ld be set up high above the lawful
descendants of the Fitzalans and De Veres. Those who were capable of
looking forward must have seen that, if Monmouth should succeed in
overpowering the existing government, there would still remain a war
between him and the House of Orange, a war which might last longer
and produce more misery than the war of the Roses, a war which might
probably break up the Protestants of Europe into hostile parties, might
arm England and Holland against each other, and might make both those
countries an easy prey to France. The opinion, therefore, of almost all
the leading Whigs seems to have been that Monmouth's enterprise could
not fail to end in some great disaster to the nation, but that, on the
whole, his defeat would be a less disaster than his victory.

It was not only by the inaction of the Whig aristocracy that the
invaders were disappointed. The wealth and power of London had sufficed
in the preceding generation, and might again suffice, to turn the scale
in a civil conflict. The Londoners had formerly given many proofs of
their hatred of Popery and of their affection for the Protestant Duke.
He had too readily believed that, as soon as he landed, there would be
a rising in the capital. But, though advices came down to him that many
thousands of the citizens had been enrolled as volunteers for the good
cause, nothing was done. The plain truth was that the agitators who
had urged him to invade England, who had promised to rise on the first
signal, and who had perhaps imagined, while the danger was remote, that
they should have the courage to keep their promise, lost heart when the
critical time drew near. Wildman's fright was such that he seemed to
have lost his understanding. The craven Danvers at first excused his
inaction by saying that he would not take up arms till Monmouth was
proclaimed King, and when Monmouth had been proclaimed King, turned
round and declared that good republicans were absolved from all
engagements to a leader who had so shamefully broken faith. In every age
the vilest specimens of human nature are to be found among demagogues.
[381]

On the day following that on which Monmouth had assumed the regal
title he marched from Taunton to Bridgewater. His own spirits, it was
remarked, were not high. The acclamations of the devoted thousands who
surrounded him wherever he turned could not dispel the gloom which
sate on his brow. Those who had seen him during his progress