dwellings, had retained the same free and bold spirit which had made
them in past days the last resource of the good King Alfred and the
protectors of the Western shires from the inroads of the Danes, who
were never able to force their way into their watery strongholds. Two
companies of them, towsy-headed and bare-legged, but loud in hymn and
prayer, had come out from their fastnesses to help the Protestant cause.
At their heels came the woodmen and lumberers of Bishop's Lidiard, big,
sturdy men in green jerkins, and the white-smocked villagers of Huish
Champflower. The rear of the regiment was formed by four hundred men in
scarlet coats, with white cross-belts and well-burnished muskets.
These were deserters from the Devonshire Militia, who had marched with
Albemarle from Exeter, and who had come over to Monmouth on the field
at Axminster. These kept together in a body, but there were many other
militiamen, both in red and in yellow coats, amongst the various bodies
which I have set forth. This regiment may have numbered seven hundred
men.

The sixth and last column of foot was headed by a body of peasants
bearing 'Minehead' upon their banner, and the ensign of the three
wool-bales and the sailing ship, which is the sign of that ancient
borough. They had come for the most part from the wild country which
lies to the north of Dunster Castle and skirts the shores of the Bristol
Channel. Behind them were the poachers and huntsmen of Porlock Quay, who
had left the red deer of Exmoor to graze in peace whilst they followed
a nobler quarry. They were followed by men from Dulverton, men from
Milverton, men from Wiveliscombe and the sunny slopes of the Quantocks,
swart, fierce men from the bleak moors of Dunkerry Beacon, and tall,
stalwart pony rearers and graziers from Bampton. The banners of
Bridgewater, of Shepton Mallet, and of Nether Stowey swept past us, with
that of the fishers of Clovelly and the quarrymen of the Blackdowns. In
the rear were three companies of strange men, giants in stature, though
somewhat bowed with labour, with long tangled beards, and unkempt hair
hanging over their eyes. These were the miners from the Mendip hills and
from the Oare and Bagworthy valleys, rough, half-savage men, whose eyes
rolled up at the velvets and brocades of the shouting citizens, or fixed
themselves upon their smiling dames with a fierce intensity which scared
the peaceful burghers. So the long line rolled in until three squad