The Merciful Father; or, The Penitent Son. 643

Had Tony seen this Recantation,

he had Hang'd himself without doubt, And swore that the sins of the Nation

had brought these Confusions about :

How it would have startled the Peer, ["Tony," Shaftesbury.

to see all his Projects in vain,

But he dy'd too soon by a year,

tho' Monmouth's in favour again :

How it would have startled the Peer, etc.

Now whilst gallant Monmouth is shining,
and sharing in every sport,

Old Shaftsbury's factions are whining,
and envying brave Monmouth at Court;
But let them go on with their weeping,
for my part I'le never Complain,
Since Monmouth has left his Boo-Peeping,
and got into favour again:

But let them go on with their weeping, etc.

That he may deserve this new Blessing,

good Heavens direct him the way;

And let him avoide all Addressing,

for those that did lead him astray :
And make it his chiefest endeavour,
Whilst York and his Father doth Reign,
To serve and obey them for ever,
for granting him favour again:
[To serve and obey them for ever,

for granting him favour again.]

96

108

120

Printed for P. Brooksby, at the Golden-Ball, in Pye-Corner. [Black-letter. Date, between Nov. 27 and Dec. 7, 1683. Philip Brooksby seems to have had genuine loyalty. Jonah Deacon was merely a turncoat, at heart a disaffected sectary, assuming loyalty for the sake of "the penny siller."]

On our pp. 215, 218, 220, we had mentioned Sir Roger Martin, of Suffolk (who married Tamworth Horner, a daughter of Lady Elizabeth Foljambe, née Reresby; related to Sir John Reresby). Sir Roger is probably named as "Sir Martin" in the Letter to Ferguson, quoted in our later p. 654. At James's Coronation, in April, 1685, Sir Roger held influence among the Romanists, and his satirical comments were feared by the Monmouthites. He is described in a MS., Tell 'em, Sir Martyn, that long wire-drawn Knight—

A stalking shaddow like a moonlight night—

Harsh to the ear and hideous to the sight,

With hollow jaws, no teeth, and toes turn'd in,

(A greater monster than from Nile they bring,)

With his grey mares, white wigg, and gawdy coach,

Presumes his Lady's woman to debauch; etc.-Satire; To Julian.

The Rebellion in the West.

"The presentation of but what I was,

The flattering Index of a direful pageant,

One heav'd a-high, to be hurl'd down below!...
A dream of what thou wert, a breath, a bubble,
A sign of dignity, a garish Flag,

To be the aim of every dangerous shot...
Where be the bending Peers that flatter'd thee?
Where be the thronging troops that follow'd thee?
Decline all this, and see what now thou art!..
For one being su'd to, one that humbly sues;
For one being fear'd of all, now fearing one;
For one commanding all, obey'd of none:
Thus hath the course of Justice wheel'd about,
And left thee but a very prey to Time."

-King Richard the Third, Act iv. sc. 4.

THE curious Luttrell broadside, "A Description of the Late

Rebellion in the West" (reprinted on our later p. 702), with its woodcut containing many groups of figures, forms a double panoramic view, thus illustrating the adventures of Monmouth's last days. Together with another poem (p. 709), one more piece of " Advice to the Painter," it might serve instead of a detailed account of that woful failure and defeat of hopes, for which atonement had to be made disastrously by his misguided men, in bearing the cruelties of "Kirke's Lambs" and the Bloody Assize of Lord George Jeffereys. When Monmouth landed at Lyme in Dorsetshire, June 1, 1685, men remembered that even thus had Perkin Warbeck landed at the same place, in 1497, to fail and to die. But few recalled to memory a stronger instance of the irony of Fate, viz. that Charles the Second escaped from the same port of Lyme in 1649; after having been defeated at Worcester, finding shelter in the Royal Oak, and taking flight disguised as a serving-man, with loyal Mistress Lane behind him on the pillion.

The world is full of strange coincidences, of similarities and contrasts in its anniversaries; but for the most part we are too busy to notice them, or, if noticing, to moralize upon their lessons. The better so, in general; for too much thought and foreboding deadens resolution in us, as in Hamlet; and Macbeth's stricken wife has told us that "things without all remedy should be without regard." With many good qualities, Monmouth was altogether unfitted by his vacillating weakness to be a leader in any great enterprize. Ordinary physical courage he had shown, and some military skill to plan effectively the scheme of a campaign or of a battle. But how to discipline his forces, and compel subordinates to yield obedience to his rule, he had no more learnt than how to subdue his own imprudence. From the moment of his landing at Lyme,

"Defensor Fidei:" Dutch handmaid editions. 645

nay more, from the moment when he listened to the discontented horde of outcasts and exiles, who like reptiles of the sluggish marshes had found shelter around himself in Holland, he was at the mercy of each turbulent will. Such a disorganized rabble could not possibly succeed in fight. The few really able men were either opposed to one another, or were suspected and overcrowed by the mere herd. An incongruous rabid mob, whose only bond of union was their unwillingness to remain longer in exile-how could they act in harmony? Each had his own particular aim in view, and distrusted every other man's. That wretched fallacy, "the right of private judgement," while reason itself may be lacking for the due search and for the summing up of evidence, to what ridiculous straits it leads vain-glorious triflers, when this Will-of-the-Wisp haunts poisonous morasses! Monmouth hoped to win a crown, and was anxious to proclaim his assumption of legitimacy. We have seen that he dared not confess this to William of Orange, with whose own selfish schemes such a proceeding clashed; he dared not, after mentioning it, force it on his allied conspirators, few among whom wished anything more than to use him as a stalking-horse for popularity, to serve their own ends.

Had they been content to wait a few short years, until James the Second ran his course of obstinate insensate bigotry, they might have found in England a welcome twenty-fold as hearty, when they came in answer to a nation's call. Without such treachery as afterwards characterized the encroachments of the Prince of Orange, Monmouth might have returned to England, by 1689, with renown secured in some foreign wars; and with companions of a higher station than those who filled the three small vessels from the shores of Holland in the June of 'Eighty-five.

Instead of any such success, the dreamy possibility of imaginary "Might-have-been," the actual history is clear to us, with no less suggestive lesson. All the gifts of Fortune were wasted, all the advantages that youth, position, handsome face, and courtesy of manner, could give, were found to be of no avail against the curse of an unstable mind, defective principles, and self-indulgence. As it had been in his first youthful years, with women, that he attracted many to love him, but could not retain their affection, when once they found how shallow and insincere he was; so, with the nobler objects of our life, he trifled and squandered opportunities. To many homes did he bring misery, dishonour, and horrible death; because men and women were too prompt to take him at his word, believing him to be devotedly their friend and lawfully their sovereign, "Defender of the Faith," the brave unconquerable captain that he seemed. To be so trusted, and to fall aside at the first repulse; to be so loyally followed into danger, and then to flee away, leaving his dupes to be shot down in fight, or hanged at their

646

Trifling and Pageantry at Taunton.

own doors, while loving women were exposed to basest insults and extortion, was such a crime as deserves our reprobation. Yet to this depth fell "England's Darling." This was what the poor "Protestant Hope" did, in more than momentary weakness, and never fully repented. He sorrowed only over the consequences to himself, not at the insurrection or at his own desertion of friends.

It was a theatrical pageant, unreal and delusive, from the day of his landing. Modern time once witnessed as rash and unreasonable an adventure, ridiculed by foreigner and native, which, nevertheless, after having been foiled and punished, was followed by success; the prize being supreme command, with the Second Empire in France. But the dauntless resolution of the unscrupulous leader, "who knew himself, and knew the ways before him," made his bold attempt precursor of a victory, while the inherent weakness of "King Monmouth" foredoomed him and his party to defeat. His enemies nicknamed him the "Fop-King." Silly vanity deceived him. While he had played his part amid the tinsel of the West, accepting flowers, and banners wrought by smiling damsels robed in white at Taunton, he was incapable of striding with firm step along the rocky pathway, which may sometimes lead upward unto glory, but which is certainly begirt with danger. England was not to be won so easily. As Hotspur knew, at such a time of peril, This is no world

To play with Mammets, and to tilt with lips:

We must have bloodie Noses and crack'd Crownes,
And pass them current too.

In 1680 those Western festivals had been pardonable; even then the demonstrations were suggestive of a dangerous excitement, disloyal to the reigning monarch or his lawful successor. When resumed two years later, in 1682, the seditious purpose was unconcealed, and thus many persons who had property to lose took care to hold themselves aloof. Now, in the third and decisive Progress of the same pretender, Monmouth, when adherence meant rebellion, and refusal would count as loyalty to the King, the nearly total absence of the gentry gave warning of impending ruin. As to the landing-place at Lyme, the following brief extract may find a place:

"The insignificant force of the Duke of Monmouth is said to have landed on the coast near Lyme Regis, and doubtless that statement is in the main correct; but at Topsham, in Devonshire, twenty miles farther West, is (or was, thirty years ago) a street called Monmouth Street, and in it a Public-House with the sign of The Monmouth Head. When I was a boy, an old fisherman at Topsham told me that he had heard his grandfather say that his father had seen the Duke of Monmouth land near Exmouth, with all his fighting men, and that on his way to Bristol he met with an opposing force on the site of the present Monmouth Street; and that on the success of the Duke he received a great accession to his forces. Though this story may not be wholly correct, there is probably some truth in it."—History of Hertfordshire: Hundred of Cashio, p. 127.

The first to land were old Heywood Dare, Hugh Chamberlain, and Colonel Samuel Venner. They indulged themselves in imprudent talk to fishermen, of there being a rebellion commenced in Ireland, and of another soon to come in England. The two civilians went on to George Speke's, at White-Lackington House. Speke was to spread intelligence for Monmouth. Samuel Dassett, deputy-searcher of Lyme Custom-house, gives a minute account of what happened (in Harleian MS., No. 6845). The Duke of Monmouth, drest in purple, with a star on his breast and a sword at his side, was accompanied to shore by Lord Grey, Andrew Fletcher of Saltoun, Hooke the Duke's chaplain, Robert Ferguson who acted as the army chaplain, and other persons. The iniquitous and impolitic "Declaration" prepared by Ferguson was then read in the Lyme market-place. Rebellion had begun. This was Thursday, June 1. The following extract is a sample of Monmouth's Declaration :

"The whole course and series of the Life of the present Usurper [James Duke of York] hath been but one continued conspiracy against the Reformed Religion and Rights of the Nation. For whosoever considers his contriving the burning of London; his Instigating a confederaci with France and a Warr with Holland; his fomenting the Popish Plot, and encouraging the Murther of Sir Ed. B. Godfry to stifle it; his forging Treason against Protestants, and suborning Witnesses to swear the Patriots of our Religion and Liberties out of their lives; his hiring execrable villains to assassinate the late Earle of Essex: . . . such can imagine nothing so black and horrid . . . . which we may not expect from him," etc. Again, "And whereas the said James Duke of York, in order to hinder enquiry into his Assassination of Arthur, Earle of Essex, hath poysoned the late King, and there in manifested his Ingratitude, as well as Cruelty to the world, in Murdering a Brother, who had almost ruin'd himself to preserve and protect him from punishment," etc.

...

It

[This Declaration was printed in London by William Disney, who was soon afterwards put to death on Kennington Common, for the treasonable offence. is in 4to. four-leaved, n.p.n. among Bridgeman's MSS., Lansdowne, No. 1152, A. fol. 258. In compliance with requests, we add it complete, on p. 731.]

When Monmouth permitted this infamous "Declaration" to be issued in his name, by Robert Ferguson, he well knew the falsehood of the charges thus brought against his supposed uncle. He could never once have possibly believed them to be true, nor did Ferguson himself believe them. After such calumnies had been spread, mercy could not be extended to Monmouth, when Sedgemoor fight had left him defenceless. But that Ferguson was not brought to the gibbet can only be explained on one supposition, the almost certainty of his having been a traitor to all parties; a wretch too despicable, although serviceable to the government, to be deemed worthy of a public death on the scaffold which had been trodden by a man like Algernon Sydney. The treachery of Ferguson is shown on pp. 577, 629, 653; his ridiculous boasting, on p. 650; the satirical Letter in answer to his Elegy on Sir Thomas Armstrong is quoted on pp. 653, 654. Contentious and contemned, he died in 1714.