take them in flank, being still ignorant of the great ditch
which protected them. Lord Grey accordingly marched on, to execute the
orders given him, towards the upper plungeon; but he missed the passage
over the ditch, and led his men by the outside till they were opposite
Dumbarton's regiment. Being challenged, some one answered "Albemarle,"
and he accordingly, supposing them to be friends, allowed five hundred
of them to pass. Lord Grey, then coming to the first battalion of the
Guards, Captain Berkley, who commanded the right wing of the musketeers,
inquired whom they were for. The answer was, "The king."

"What king?" he asked.

"Monmouth, and God with us," was the reply.

Berkley then cried out, "Take this with you," when his own and several
battalions opened a heavy fire, and a considerable number of Grey's
horses and men fell. When unable any longer to stand the fire, they
rode off as hard as they could pelt. A smaller body of horse, to which
Stephen belonged, under the command of Captain Jones, made several
desperate charges, and were also compelled to retreat without having
crossed the ditch, when they went off towards Sutton Hill, where they
took up a position to see the issue of the fight. The flight of Lord
Grey's horse threw many of the infantry into confusion. Some refused to
advance, and others ran away; but a still greater disaster was in store,
for on coming to the end of the moor, where forty-two ammunition wagons
had been left, the drivers, alarmed at the arrival of the fugitives, and
being told that the Duke's army had been routed, took to flight, and did
not stop till they arrived at Ware and Axbridge, twelve miles off.
Shortly after the Duke's horse had dispersed themselves over the moor,
his infantry advanced at the double, guided through the gloom by the
lighted matches of Dumbarton's regiment; but on reaching the edge of the
Rhine they halted, and contrary to orders, began firing away, their fire
being returned by part of the royal infantry on the opposite side of the
bank. For three-quarters of an hour the roar of the musketry was
incessant. The guns also opened fire, which was likewise returned by
the king's cannon as soon as they could be brought up. For a
considerable time the battle raged, the sturdy Somersetshire peasants
behaving themselves as though they had been veteran soldiers, though
they levelled their pieces too high. Monmouth was seen like a brave
man, pike in hand,