Филиппа Карр: Daughters of England

But for those days when he called himself King, Monmouth reveled in the glory for which he must have longed ever since he had discovered that he was the King's son. Leaving Bridgwater, he had marched to Bristol, expecting as easy a victory there as he had enjoyed in Taunton and Bridgwater. Alas for him, the King's men had heard of his approach and were ready to meet him in such force that he lost heart and hastily turned back to Bridgwater. Defiantly he issued a declaration, offering five thousand pounds for King James's head.

It was ludicrous.

Meanwhile we waited at home for news. It was of the utmost importance to us now. Luke, my brother, and Kirk were there.

James was grim. He said they had been rash to go. Even Sebastian showed concern. As for me, I was thinking constantly of Kirkwell. What if I never saw him again? I wished then that I had agreed to marry him. Perhaps, had we been betrothed, I might have persuaded him not to go. I longed for his return. It was because I loved him, far more than I had thought.

Christobel was no longer blissfully happy and was clearly distressed. James was worried. It was not good for the baby. He said that Luke was a good-hearted fellow, he knew, though he had this obsession about his birth which had made him side with Monmouth; but to rush in like that was rather foolish. What he could not understand was Kirk's going with Luke. He would have thought Kirk would have had the sense to wait a while ... to see how things went before he rushed in to serve a cause which might be of short duration. And, if it were, that would not have done a great deal of good to those who had supported it.

The King's forces were gathering around Bridgwater. The army was formidable and the great generals had decided to support the King against Monmouth. They knew Monmouth for the reckless man he was. Many of them believed that the law must be obeyed. Monmouth was not the true heir. Many tunes King Charles had denied that he had married Lucy Walter. If he had, why should he not have admitted it? For then he could have produced his son and heir, which every king and ever>' man of property desired to have.

But no, the King had said it many times. "I was never married to Lucy Walter. Let them bring forth a hundred black boxes, a thousand certificates to prove that I was ... I will continue to assure you, I was never married to Jemmy's mother."

The country did not want a Catholic King, but the people insisted that the law must be adhered to. Only the true heir could ascend the throne of England.

And so came the terrible tragedy of Sedgemoor. Poor Monmouth! What chance had he and his band, untrained laborers most of them? How were they to stand against an army trained and equipped with experienced soldiers, under the command of men such as Churchill and Frensham? Monmouth himself was not the bravest of men. He had shown that during his reckless days, when he had cringed before the King, begging his pardon when he was suspected of complicity in the Rye House Plot.

Monmouth would quickly see how the battle was going and he, so the story went, slipped away before the end. That might have been slander from his enemies, but we did know that he was found cowering in a ditch, covered in ferns when he was captured, and that he was taken to London where he begged his uncle to see him that he might crave his forgiveness.

He found his uncle less lenient than his father had always been.

Monmouth's dreams were over. Fourteen days after he had arrived in England to claim the throne, he lost his head on Tower Hill.

We were living in a nightmare. I was filled with dread. The Battle of Sedgemoor was lost and men who had escaped from the battlefield were wandering around the country, seeking shelter—the fugitives from the defeated army. They were not to be allowed to shrug off their misdeeds, their treason, as the victorious side were calling it. Men could not behave so and then act as though it were of no moment. The country had to be shown that treasonable acts were given the treatment they deserved.

Kirk and Luke were in my thoughts all the time. I dreamed of them. Where were they? If they had escaped, they would come to us, surely. But where were they?

A whole day and night had passed since the battle and there was no sign of them. I greatly feared that I should never see them again. My dear brother, who had had such ambitious dreams ... wild dreams that could never come true without a miracle. And Kirk ... Kirk. I had not known how much I loved him until now.

I tried to imagine life without him. I thought of his tender looks for me, his kindness, his tolerance. Why had he gone into this wild adventure? I knew why Luke had. I could follow his way of thinking completely. But Kirk? He was no ardent fanatic, no fervent supporter of the Protestant Faith or hater of Catholics. He believed in freedom of worship for all. But he had believed that England would never support a Catholic King, and that there would be trouble for the country—and that meant for us all—if Catholic James remained on the throne. He was right: James's reign would be an unhappy one. But Monmouth! He was nothing but a boy playing at being a great warrior throughout his entire career, who had shown his weakness.

It was dusk. I went to my room. I sat down and my thoughts were on the battlefield.

Kirk ... Luke ... where are you? I was thinking over and over again.

There was a knocking at my door.

It v,^s Amy, wild-eyed and tearful.

"What is it?" I cried.

"Oh, Mistress Kate, he be down below. He's hiding out. Scared out of his wits, he be. Wants to see ye. He's out there by the shrubbery."

"W^ho? Who?"

"Tom Ricks, Mistress."

I was speeding across the grass to the shrubbery.

"Tom!" I cried.

" Tis I, Mistress. I have to see you. I was with him. Mistress. He said to tell you and give this to you ... if I got away."

He put a ring into my hand. I knew it well. It was gold and Luke had treasured it. He had told me it was the ring our father had given his mother. He had always worn it.

"He was hurt bad. Mistress. In the chest, it was. He couldn't speak much, but he weren't in pain. Well, not much anyway. He knew he was going, and he spoke of you. He wanted me to bring this ring to you if I were able ... so you'd know it was certain, like."

I heard myself murmuring: "Luke ... brother Luke. Oh no, not like this!"

" 'Twere so. Mistress. I were right beside him. Might have had it myself. A miracle I didn't. When he gave me the ring, he just closed his eyes. I stayed with him for a bit ... then I had to go. They say they're looking for us. I've got to hide myself. Mistress."

"Oh, Tom," I said. "Take care."

"Right sure I will, Mistress. They say terrible things will happen to them who fought on Sedgemoor for him that lost."

"Oh, Tom. Get away, then."

"This'll be the first place they'll come looking. There was more than one from these parts as was there. Fm going to my uncle's over Taunton way."

"Oh, Tom. Good luck ... and thank you."

I watched him disappear in the darkness. I was too shocked and bewildered to do anything but go to my room. Heavy-hearted and desperately afraid, I sat through the night.

In the morning I heard that the supporters of Monmouth who had not been captured on the battlefield were being rounded up. Tom Ricks had been caught on the way to Taunton and was now lying in Bridgwater jail.

Luke was dead. My brother, so full of life one day and then no more. All his dreams of one day being Lord of Rosslyn Manor, gone forever. And all for the ambitions of a King's bastard son! How our lives were governed by the acts of others. But for Monmouth's ambitions, we all would have been congregating in Christobel's sitting room, talking, talking ...

And Kirk ... where was Kirk? I greatly feared that he was one of the thousand slaughtered on that fatal battlefield. I would never go near Sedgemoor again. Never, I told myself.