House of Commons, and scarcely any esquire of sufficient note to have ever been in the commission of the peace, had joined the invaders. Ferguson, who, ever since the death of Charles, had been Monmouth's evil angel, had a suggestion ready. The duke had put himself into a false position by declining the royal title. Had he declared himself sovereign of England, his cause would have worn a show of legality. At present it was impossible to reconcile his Declaration with the principles of the Constitution. It was clear that either Monmouth or his uncle was rightful king. Monmouth did not venture to pronounce himself the rightful king, and yet denied that his uncle was so. Those who fought for James fought for the only person who ventured to claim the throne, and were, - therefore, clearly in their duty according to the laws of the realm. Those who fought for Monmouth fought for some unknown polity, which was to be set up by a convention not yet in existence. None could wonder that men of high rank and ample fortune stood aloof from an enterprise which threatened with destruction that system in the permanence of which they were deeply interested. If the duke would assert his legitimacy and assume the crown, he would at once remove this objection. The question would cease to be a question between the old Constitution and a new constitution. It would be merely a question of hereditary right between two princes. On such grounds as these, Ferguson, almost immediately after the landing, had earnestly pressed the duke to proclaim himself king; and Grey was of the same opinion. Monmouth had been very willing to take this advice; but Wade and other Republicans had been refractory; and their chief, with his usual pliability, had yielded to their arguments. At Taunton the subject was revived. Monmouth talked in private with the dissentients, assured them that he saw no other way of obtaining the support of any portion of the aristocracy, and succeeded in extorting their reluctant consent. On the morning of the twentieth of June he was proclaimed in the market-place of Taunton. His followers repeated his new title with affectionate delight; but, as some confusion might have arisen if he had been called King James the Second, they commonly used the strange appellation of King Monmouth; and by this name their unhappy favorite was often mentioned in the western counties, within the memory of persons still living.* Within twenty-four hours after he had assumed the regal title, he put forth several proclamations headed with his sign manual. By one of these he set a price on the head of his rival. Another declared the Parliament then sitting at Westminster an unlawful assembly, and commanded the members to disperse. The third forbade the people to pay taxes to the usurper. The fourth pronounced Albemarle a traitor.t Albemarle transmitted these proclamations to London merely as specimens of folly and impertinence. They produced no effect, except wonder and contempt; nor had Monmouth any reason to think that the assumption of royalty had improved his position. Only a week had elapsed since he had solemnly bound himself not to take the crown till a free Parliament should have acknowledged his rights. By breaking that engagement he had incurred the imputation of levity, if not of perfidy. The class which he had hoped to conciliate still stood aloof. The reasons which prevented the great Whig lords and gentlemen from recognizing him as their king were at least as strong as those which had prevented them from rallying round him as their captain general. They disliked indeed the person, the religion, and the politics of James; but James was no longer young. His eldest daughter was justly popular. She was attached to the Reformed faith. She was married to a prince who was * Wade's Confession; Goodenough's Confession, Harl. MS., 1152; Oldmix on, 702. Ferguson's denial is quite undeserving of credit. A copy of the proclamation is in the Harl. MS., 7006. + Copies of the last three proclamations are in the British Museum. Harl MS., 7006. The first I have never seen; but it is mentioned by Wade. M M the hereditary chief of the Protestants of the Continent, to a prince who had been bred in a republic, and whose sentiments were supposed to be such as became a constitutional king. Was it wise to incur the horrors of civil war for the mere chance of being able to effect immediately what Nature would, without bloodshed, without any violation of law, effect, in all probability, before many years should have expired? Perhaps there might be reaBut what reason could be To exclude a prince sons for pulling down James. given for setting up Monmouth? from the throne on account of unfitness was a course agreeable to Whig principles; but on no principle could it be proper to exclude rightful heirs, who were admitted to be, not only blameless, but eminently qualified for the highest public trust. That Monmouth was legitimate, nay, that he thought himself legitimate, intelligent men I could not believe. He was therefore not merely a usurper, but a usurper of the worst sort-an impostor. If he made out any semblance of a case, he could do so only by means of forgery and perjury. All honest and sensible persons were unwilling to see a fraud which, if practiced to obtain an estate, would have been punished with the scourge and the pillory, rewarded with the English crown. To the old nobility of the realm it seemed insupportable that the bastard of Lucy Walters should be set up high above the lawful descendants of the Fitzalans and De Veres. Those who were capable of looking forward must have seen that, if Monmouth should succeed in overpowering the existing government, there would still remain a war between him and the house of Orange; a war which might last longer and produce more misery than the war of the Roses; a war which might probably break up the Protestants of Europe into hostile parties, might arm England and Holland against each other, and might make both those countries an easy prey to France. The opinion, therefore, of almost all the leading Whigs seems to have been that Monmouth's enterprise could not fail to end in some great disaster to the nation, but that, on the whole, his defeat would be a less disaster than his victory. It was not only by the inaction of the Whig aristocracy that the invaders were disappointed. The wealth and power of London had sufficed in the preceding generation, and might again suffice, to turn the scale in a civil conflict. The Londoners had formerly given many proofs of their hatred of popery and of their affection for the Protestant duke. He had too readily believed that, as soon as he landed, there would be a rising in the capital; but, though advices came down to him that many thousands of the citizens had been enrolled as volunteers for the good cause, nothing was done. The plain truth was, that the agitators who had encouraged him to invade England, who had promised to rise on the first signal, and who had perhaps imagined, while the danger was remote, that they should have the courage to keep their promise, lost heart when the critical time drew near. Wildman's fright was such that he seemed to have lost his understanding. The craven Danvers at first excused his inaction by saying that he would not take up arms till Monmouth was proclaimed king; and, when Monmouth had been proclaimed king, turned round and declared that good Republicans were absolved from all engagements to a leader who had so shamefully broken faith. In every age the vilest specimens of human nature are to be found among demagogues.* On the day following that on which Monmouth had assumed the regal title, he marched from Taunton to Bridgewater. His own spirits, it was remarked, were not high. The acclamations of the devoted thousands who surrounded him wherever he turned could not dispel the gloom which sat on his brow. Those who had seen him during his progress through Somersetshire five years before, could not now observe without pity the traces of distress and anxiety on those soft and pleasing features which had won so many hearts.† * Grey's Narrative; Ferguson's MS., Eachard, iii., 754. Ferguson was in a very different temper. With this man's knavery was strangely mingled an eccentric vanity which resembled madness. The thought that he had raised a rebellion and bestowed a crown had turned his head. He swaggered about, brandishing his naked sword, and crying to the crowd of spectators who had assembled to see the army march out of Taunton, "Look at me! You have heard of me. I am Ferguson, the famous Ferguson, the Ferguson for whose head so many hundred pounds have been offered." And this man, at once unprincipled and brain-sick, had in his keeping the understanding and the conscience of the unhappy Monmouth.* Bridgewater was one of the few towns which still had some Whig magistrates. The mayor and aldermen came in their robes to welcome the duke, walked before him in procession to the high cross, and there proclaimed him king. His troops found excellent quarters, and were furnished with necessaries at little or no cost by the people of the town and neighborhood. He took up his residence in the castle, a building which had been previously honored by royal visits. In the castle field his army was encamped. It now consisted of about six thousand men, and might easily have been increased to double the number but for the want of arms. The duke had brought with him from the Continent but a scanty supply of pikes and muskets. Many of his followers had, therefore, no other weapons than such as could be made out of the tools which they had used in husbandry or mining. Of these rude implements of war the most formidable was made by fastening the blade of a scythe erect on a strong pole. The tything-men of the country round Taunton and Bridgewater received orders to search every where for scythes, and to bring all that could be found to the camp. It was impossible, however, even with the help of these contrivances, to supply the demand, and great numbers who were desirous to enlist were sent away.† *Harl. MS., 6845. + Grey's Narrative; Paschall's Narrative in App. to Heywood's Vindication. |