. Further off lay Middle Zoy, where the Wiltshire militia
were quartered, and upon the moor, not far from Chedzoy, were encamped
several battalions of regular infantry. Among them the Duke
distinguished Dumbarton's regiment, which he himself had once commanded.

"I know those men," he said, turning to Stephen; "they will fight. If I
had but them, all would go well."

Still, formidable as the force appeared, the Duke knew Feversham's
incapacity, and even on the eve of battle his spies brought in word to
Monmouth that his troops were regaling themselves with cider, and that
no regular outposts had been established. On this the idea occurred to
him that it might be possible to surprise the king's forces, and to cut
them to pieces. Lord Grey and the other principal officers agreed to
this, and it was arranged that they should march out that very night.
Castlefield, where they were encamped, presented on that Sunday
afternoon a spectacle which for many a long year had not been seen in
England since the disbanding of Cromwell's soldiers. The greater number
of the men were Dissenters. The day was passed in religious exercises
according to the Puritan fashion. The preachers who had taken up arms
against Popery, some of whom had fought in the great Civil War, appeared
in red coats and jack boots, with swords by their sides. Stephen
Battiscombe heartily joined in the religious exercises, though he
avoided the spot where Ferguson was holding forth, and endeavouring to
prove that the war in which they were engaged was not rebellion, but a
righteous enterprise which merited the support of Heaven. Among the
soldiers were their wives and daughters, who had come into the town from
the surrounding districts to see them on that Sabbath-day; and when the
camp-meeting broke up, and the trumpet summoned the men to their ranks,
many parted who were never to meet again. Evening of that summer day
drew on, and the time to commence the march arrived. As the Duke, with
his body-guard, rode out of the castle, many remarked that his look was
sad and full of evil augury. The night was well suited for the
contemplated enterprise. Though the moon was at the full, and the
northern streamers were shining brilliantly, the marsh fog lay so
thickly on Sedgemoor that no object could be discerned fifty paces off.
The Duke himself led the infantry, while the cavalry, a thousand strong,
had been committed to Lord Grey, notwithstanding the remons