Roger Willoughby: A Story of the Times of Benbow

by William Henry Giles Kingston

“She seems to me to be standing more to the southward than her due course for the Start,” he said to one of the boatmen.

“May be the Captain does not know how the wind will come, which is to give the Start a wide berth,” was the answer.

As far, however, as Stephen could watch, he observed that she held a south-westerly course. On his arrival on shore he found that notwithstanding the untoward event of the afternoon, the expedition to Bridport was still to be carried out. He found a party of three hundred men under Colonel Wade, with a hundred men under Captain Goodenough, while the cavalry was commanded by Lord Grey, who had charge of the whole expedition. They were to march all night in great secrecy, hoping to fall on the militia early in the morning. They waited till sunset, when, all being prepared, they marched out of Lyme, the infantry leading, the cavalry bringing up the rear. The men were ordered to keep silence, and to make as little noise in any way as possible. It was no easy matter to induce raw recruits, however, to do this. Stephen of course, knew every inch of the way. They were still some three or four miles from Bridport, when the advanced guard met two men coming from the direction of the town. Instead of running away they advanced boldly, declared that they had escaped from the town, and that their wish was to join the Duke of Monmouth.

“You have found them sooner than you expected,” said Lieutenant Mitchell, the officer commanding the vanguard.

The men willingly agreed to return with the party, although they said that there were no less than one thousand two hundred foot, and a hundred horse already holding the town. Still, as they had come thus far and were positively ordered to attack, the leaders were unwilling to go back without attempting something, although they were far outnumbered. A thick fog came on towards morning, which completely concealed their approach towards the end of the town, which consists of one long broad street with a stone bridge at either end, and a cross street running north and south. The bridge was quickly won, the outposts retiring with expedition to the main guard, who speedily retreated, standing only to receive one volley from Monmouth’s vanguard. The king’s horse, with a small body of infantry, alone occupied the town, and as the troopers ran away, they let their horses go, which were at once captured by the successful assailants. Colonel Venner now led on his men to attack the eastern bridge, leaving parties of musketeers and pikes to command the entrances to the other streets, and fighting took place in front of the inn, when two of the king’s officers and others lost their lives, and several prisoners were made by Monmouth’s men. Colonel Venner, however, was wounded. When Lord Grey was advancing on the bridge, the loyal militia fired a heavy volley, which induced him and his troop to turn their horses’ heads and gallop off. On Colonel Venner being wounded, Colonel Wade took command, and led to the western part of the town, where for half-an-hour his men and those of the king’s forces were shouting to each other. He then, finding that the rest of the force had retreated, considered it his duty to retire, which he did in pretty good order, with thirty horses and about fourteen prisoners. The whole transaction must have shown the Duke how little reliance he could place upon his new levies, or even upon some of his principal officers. The Duke complimented Stephen on his good conduct in bringing off his men. The party were pretty well knocked up by their march to Bridport and back, and there was little drilling that evening, except among the new levies; but early the next morning the drum beat to arms, the regiments were formed under their respective leaders, and the Duke, putting himself at the head, passed them all in review. As Stephen rode near the Duke, he observed that his countenance wore a melancholy expression, the animation which had at first appeared having quite faded from it. He evidently had taken greatly to heart the death of Dare; still, as he had commenced the enterprise, he seemed resolved to carry it out. His troops were in a very different mood; they saw not the dangers ahead, and were mostly under the belief that the king’s forces would melt away before them should they be encountered. Stephen, as he rode among the ranks, observed the awkward movements of some of the men, the jaunty air of others, and the ragged appearance of the cavalry, many of the horses being large untrained colts, and began to feel less confident of success till he recollected that probably the militia regiments on the king’s side were much in the same condition, and, moreover, that they were well-affected towards the Duke. The army marched slowly and leisurely along till they reached Axminster, where news was brought to the Duke that Albemarle was advancing with a large body of militia to attack them. Monmouth skilfully drew up his forces; the four field-pieces were planted so as to command the road along which the Royal troops were approaching, while the thick hedges which on each side overhung the narrow lanes were lined with musketeers; the cavalry were held in reserve.

“Here they come, my lads,” cried Stephen Battiscombe, as Albemarle’s men were seen in the distance. “Steady, now; if they venture to attack us, we shall soon send them to the right-about.”

At first the enemy came on boldly and rapidly. While still beyond musket range they were seen to halt, then suddenly to retreat. The insurgents on this dashed forward. As they heard the cheers and shouts of Monmouth’s men, throwing down their arms they took to flight, and scampered off in all directions across the country. They were pursued for some distance, and coats, muskets, and pikes were picked up by the victorious insurgents.

“Now, surely the Duke of Monmouth will follow up the pursuit, and we shall probably capture Exeter without a blow,” observed Stephen.

“No chance of that, I fear,” answered his brother Andrew, who was riding by his side. “Hark! there is the recall, and it is a signal our raw fellows will be glad enough to obey.”

This last remark was too true. The Duke of Monmouth, probably unwilling to employ his recruits in any hazardous service till they were better trained, thought it wise to be satisfied with the advantage he had already gained, and continued his march towards Taunton, and that evening reached the neighbourhood of Chard, where the troops encamped in a meadow outside the town. The Duke was now near the estates of those friends who had entertained him so sumptuously a few years before, and he naturally looked forward to being joined by a number of those gentlemen and their retainers; but only one, John Speke, the son of Mr George Speke of White Lackington Hall, arrived at the camp, with forty horsemen of no very imposing appearance from Chard. The next morning the Duke’s forces marched to Ilminster, about four miles off, and encamped in a field about half a mile beyond the town; still he was looking forward to the arrival of fresh levies headed by men of consequence. None, however, arrived, though labouring men in vast numbers would have joined his standard if arms could have been found for them. Bad news also arrived from Lyme; the king’s frigate had sailed into the harbour and had captured the Pink and another vessel which had on board numerous barrels of gunpowder, and several thousand breast and head pieces for cavalry, though, considering that there were no horses or men to wear the defensive armour, it was not of much consequence. Thus far there had been no success. The Duke now resolved to march to Taunton, that celebrated and beautiful little town which had endured so heroic a siege under Blake. It was here that during his progress he had been received with such remarkable honours, and he fully expected now to receive a similar treatment. Taunton was densely populated, and was the seat of the trade in serges, and as most of the manufacturers were Dissenters, they were universally in favour of the Duke of Monmouth. As Monmouth approached Taunton several persons came out from the town, who informed him that it had been occupied till the day before by Royal troops, but they, hearing of the disorder into which the militia had been thrown between Axminster and Chard, about midnight, a drum sounding both officers and men, had marched out, having received orders to appear at Bridgewater. Messengers also promised a cordial reception to the Duke should he come. The Duke, having encamped his forces outside the town, prepared to enter it. He was met by a large body of men on horseback, every person who possessed a steed going out to meet him, while the rest of the inhabitants on foot rent the air with applause and acclamations. The streets through which he passed were strewed with flowers; the windows were thronged with spectators, all eager to gaze on the hero they had been taught to admire. The Duke’s spirits rose higher than they had been since he landed. The Duke had taken up his residence at the house of Captain Hucker. The following morning it was announced to him that a procession was approaching to do him honour. He descended the steps in front of the house, when he saw coming towards him a band of young maidens, each carrying banners of different colours, which they had worked with their own hands. At their head appeared a lady of more mature age, carrying a naked sword in one hand and in the other a small curious Bible, which she presented with a short acceptable speech. The Duke, looking greatly pleased, assured her that he had undertaken with a resolution to defend the truth contained in the book, to seal it, should it be required, with his blood. He then saluted each of the young ladies, as did Lord Grey. His Grace then mounted his horse, and the twenty-seven young maidens followed, each bearing a banner, and led by a young man. Among the flags was a golden banner worked with the initials J.R. and a crown. Having paraded through the streets, the Duke returned to his abode, and the young maidens retired to their own homes. The day after, some of his principal advisers recommended the Duke to assume the title of King. The Duke was willing to do this, and there were many reasons in favour of the step, though many also against it. It was argued that a large number of the nobility were unwilling to take up arms in his cause, fearing that unless a king was at the head of the movement, it might result in the establishment of a Commonwealth, to which they were strongly opposed. Several of his Republican officers, on hearing of the proposal, expressed themselves greatly averse to it; and it was not without much difficulty that they were won over to give their consent, in the hopes that they should be immediately joined by the nobility and gentry, who were now hanging back. Stephen Battiscombe and his brothers, knowing their father’s principles, felt sure that he would disapprove of this step; at the same time, they had become so attached to the Duke that they were ready to agree to anything which it was supposed would forward his interests. The subject was anxiously discussed by many of the best friends of the Duke. The flag carried by Miss Mary Mead, the work of the maids of Taunton, on which were emblazoned the initials J.R. and the crown, had been seen by thousands, and that emblem could not have been mistaken. No one had complained. The fatal step was quickly decided on,—fatal, because should the Duke fail and be captured, it would cut off all hope of pardon from James the Second. On Saturday, 20th June, some of the chief magistrates were compelled to attend in their gowns at the market crossing, where a large concourse of people were assembled. Mr Tyler then read the following proclamation:—“Whereas, upon the decease of our Sovereign, Charles the Second, late King of England, the succession to the Crown of England, Scotland, France, and Ireland, with the dominions and territories thereunto belonging, did legally descend and devolve upon the most illustrious and high-born Prince, James, Duke of Monmouth, son and heir-apparent to the said King Charles the Second; but James, Duke of York, taking advantage of the absence of the said James, Duke of Monmouth, beyond the seas, did first cause the said late King to be poisoned, and immediately thereupon did usurp and invade the Crown, and doth continue so to do. We, therefore, the noblemen, gentlemen, and commons at present assembled, in the names of ourselves and all the loyal and Protestant noblemen, gentlemen, and commons of England, in pursuance of our duty and allegiance, and of the delivering of the kingdom from Popery, tyranny, and oppression, do recognise, publish, and proclaim the said high and mighty Prince, James, Duke of Monmouth, our lawful and rightful Sovereign and King, by the name of James the Second, by the grace of God, King of England, Scotland, France, and Ireland, defender of the Faith,” etcetera.