urers were summoned
to dig trenches and throw up mounds. Then his mind recurred to the plan
of marching into Cheshire, a plan which he had rejected as impracticable
when he was at Keynsham, and which assuredly was not more practicable
now that he was at Bridgewater. [404]

While he was thus wavering between projects equally hopeless, the King's
forces came in sight. They consisted of about two thousand five hundred
regular troops, and of about fifteen hundred of the Wiltshire militia.
Early on the morning of Sunday, the fifth of July, they left Somerton,
and pitched their tents that day about three miles from Bridgewater, on
the plain of Sedgemoor.

Dr. Peter Mew, Bishop of Winchester, accompanied them. This prelate had
in his youth borne arms for Charles the First against the Parliament.
Neither his years nor his profession had wholly extinguished his martial
ardour; and he probably thought that the appearance of a father of the
Protestant Church in the King's camp might confirm the loyalty of some
honest men who were wavering between their horror of Popery and their
horror of rebellion.

The steeple of the parish church of Bridgewater is said to be the
loftiest of Somersetshire, and commands a wide view over the surrounding
country. Monmouth, accompanied by some of his officers, went up to
the top of the square tower from which the spire ascends, and observed
through a telescope the position of the enemy. Beneath him lay a flat
expanse, now rich with cornfields and apple trees, but then, as its name
imports, for the most part a dreary morass. When the rains were heavy,
and the Parret and its tributary streams rose above their banks, this
tract was often flooded. It was indeed anciently part of that great
swamp which is renowned in our early chronicles as having arrested the
progress of two successive races of invaders, which long protected
the Celts against the aggressions of the kings of Wessex, and which
sheltered Alfred from the pursuit of the Danes. In those remote times
this region could be traversed only in boats. It was a vast pool,
wherein were scattered many islets of shifting and treacherous soil,
overhung with rank jungle, and swarming with deer and wild swine.
Even in the days of the Tudors, the traveller whose journey lay from
Ilchester to Bridgewater was forced to make a circuit of several miles
in order to avoid the waters. When Monmouth looked upon Sedgemoor, it
had been partially reclaimed by art,