with Lord Grey's desertion. We dragged our
way back to Lyme very slowly, losing a good fifty of our number by
desertion. They slipped away home, after falling out of the ranks to
rest. They had had enough of fighting for the Duke; they were off home.
The officers were strict at first, trying to stop these desertions; but
the temper of the men was so bad that at last they gave it up, hoping
that some at least would stay. That was another evil consequence of
fighting for the crown with an undisciplined mob; they could sustain
defeat as ill as they could use victory. We did not trail into Lyme
until after noon; for we marched like snails, fearing that the militia
would follow us. When we got into camp, the men flung their arms from
them, careless of the officer's orders. All that they wanted was sleep
(we had eaten a late breakfast at Charmouth), they were not going to
do any more soldier's foolery of drill, or sentry-go. As for Lord Grey,
whom everybody called a coward, the Duke could not cashier him, because
he was the best officer remaining to us. Poor Fletcher, who might have
made something of our cavalry, was by this time far away at sea. The
other officers had shown their incapacity that morning. For my own part,
I chose out a snug billet on a hearthrug in the George Inn, where I
slept very soundly for several hours. While I slept, the Duke held a
melancholy council to debate what could be done.

They say that he ought to have marched that morning to Exeter, where
Lord Albemarle's militia (all of them ripe for rebellion) would have
joined him.

Exeter or Bristol, one or the other, would have been a fine plume in
his cap, a strong, fortified town, full of arms, where he could have
established himself firmly. I do not know why he decided against
marching to Exeter. He may have had bad reports of troops being on the
road waiting for him; or he may have thought that his friends (who
were plentiful on the Bristol road) would rally to him as soon as he
appeared. He was deceived by those protesting gentry, his friends, who
had welcomed him so warmly only a few months before. He thought that all
the countryside was ready to join him. He had been deceived, as perhaps
a cleverer man would have been deceived, by the warmth of his welcome
on his earlier visit. An Englishman is always polite to a Duke when he
meets him in a friendly gathering. But when the Duke says, "Lend me all
your ready money, together with your horses, or r