verer from Heaven, and the poor rent the air with acclamations and
shouts. His path was strewed with flowers, and the windows were
crowded with ladies, who waved their handkerchiefs, and even waited
upon him with a large deputation. Twenty-six lovely maidens presented
the handsome son of Charles II. with standards and a Bible, which he
kissed, and promised to defend.

[Sidenote: Battle of Sedgemoor.]

[Sidenote: Death of Monmouth.]

But all this enthusiasm was soon to end. The Duke of Albemarle--the
son of General Monk, who restored Charles II.--advanced against him
with the militia of the country, and Monmouth was supported only by
the vulgar, the weak, and the credulous. Not a single nobleman joined
his standard, and but few of the gentry. He made innumerable blunders.
He lost time by vain attempts to drill the peasants and farmers who
followed his fortunes. He slowly advanced to the west of England,
where he hoped to be joined by the body of the people. But all men of
station and influence stood aloof. Discouraged and dismayed, he
reached Wells, and pushed forward to capture Bristol, then the second
city in the kingdom. He was again disappointed. He was forced, from
unexpected calamities, to abandon the enterprise. He then turned his
eye to Wilts; but when he arrived at the borders of the county, he
found that none of the bodies on which he had calculated had made
their appearance. At Phillips Norton was a slight skirmish, which
ended favorably to Monmouth, in which the young Duke of Grafton,
natural son of Charles II., distinguished himself against his half
brother; but Monmouth was discouraged, and fell back to Bridgewater.
Meanwhile the royal army approached, and encamped at Sedgemoor. Here
was fought a decisive battle, which was fatal to the rebels, "the last
deserving the name of _battle_, that has been fought on English
ground." Monmouth, when all was lost, fled from the field, and
hastened to the British Channel, hoping to gain the Continent. He was
found near the New Forest, hidden in a ditch, exhausted by hunger and
fatigue. He was sent, under a strong guard, to Ringwood; and all that
was left him was, to prepare to meet the death of a rebel. But he
clung to life, so justly forfeited, with singular tenacity. He
abjectly and meanly sued for pardon from that inexorable tyrant who
never forgot or forgave the slightest resistance from a friend, when
even that resistance was lawful, much less rebellion from a