wed how stern had been the attack and
how fierce the resistance. On our left the wild miners had been broken
at the first rush, but had fought so savagely, throwing themselves upon
the ground and stabbing upwards at the stomachs of the horses, that they
had at last beaten off the dragoons. The Devonshire militiamen, however,
had been scattered, and shared the fate of the men of Frome. During the
whole of the struggle the foot upon the further bank of the Bussex Rhine
were pouring in a hail of bullets, which our musqueteers, having to
defend themselves against the horse, were unable to reply to.

It needed no great amount of soldierly experience to see that the battle
was lost, and that Monmouth's cause was doomed. It was broad daylight
now, though the sun had not yet risen. Our cavalry was gone, our
ordnance was silent, our line was pierced in many places, and more than
one of our regiments had been destroyed. On the right flank the Horse
Guards Blue, the Tangiers Horse, and two dragoon regiments were forming
up for a fresh attack. On the left the foot-guards had bridged the ditch
and were fighting hand to hand with the men from North Somerset. In
front a steady fire was being poured into us, to which our reply was
feeble and uncertain, for the powder carts had gone astray in the dark,
and many were calling hoarsely for ammunition, while others were loading
with pebbles instead of ball. Add to this that the regiments which still
held their ground had all been badly shaken by the charge, and had lost
a third of their number. Yet the brave clowns sent up cheer after cheer,
and shouted words of encouragement and homely jests to each other,
as though a battle were but some rough game which must as a matter of
course be played out while there was a player left to join in it.

'Is Captain Clarke there?' cried Decimus Saxon, riding up with his
sword-arm flecked with blood. 'Ride over to Sir Stephen Timewell and
tell him to join his men to ours. Apart we shall be broken--together we
may stand another charge.'

Setting spurs to Covenant I rode over to our companions and delivered
the message. Sir Stephen, who had been struck by a petronel bullet,
and wore a crimsoned kerchief bound round his snow-white head, saw
the wisdom of the advice, and moved his townsmen as directed. His
musqueteers being better provided with powder than ours did good service
by keeping down for a time the deadly fire from across the fosse.

'Who would