By William Welsh
The Duke of Monmouth’s rebel army marched briskly out of Bridgwater into the dark of night on July 6, 1685. Earlier that day, rebel scouts reported seeing troops of King James II’s army, camped a short distance away at Westonzoyland, stumbling about drunkenly with little regard for military demeanor or security. Feeling cornered by the king’s troops, Monmouth believed that the last chance for his Protestant rebellion to succeed lay in launching an audacious night attack on the poorly guarded royal encampment.
Led by a local guide, the rebels planned to march five miles in a wide-ranging arc and fall on the rear of the royalist army. A seasoned commander, Monmouth sent word through the ranks that any man who made a sound alerting the enemy to their approach would be struck down immediately by his comrades. Cloaked in darkness and enshrouded by a thick mist that clung to the moors like moss to a rock, the rebels tramped off to meet their destiny.
Inheriting the Throne
James II had inherited the throne upon the death of his brother, Charles II, who had died exactly five months earlier, on February 6, 1685. Because Charles’s wife, Catherine of Braganza, had been barren, Charles left behind no legitimate heirs. Both his brother, James, Duke of York, and his son James Scott, Duke of Monmouth, the eldest of Charles’s illegitimate children, had jockeyed for the throne in the years immediately preceding the king’s death. Although Charles bestowed numerous titles and honors on his eldest son, he supported his Catholic brother as his rightful successor. The opposition to James, which consisted of religious nonconformists who recognized neither the Roman Catholic Church nor the Church of England, saw in Monmouth a Protestant alternative to James and championed him as the true successor to the throne.
James Scott, who took his surname from his wife Anna Scott, Countess of Buccleuch, was living at the time of Charles’s death in the United Provinces (Holland) with his mistress, Henrietta Wentworth. He held a number of titles as a result of his marriage and his father’s generosity, the highest of which was Duke of Monmouth. His popularity in England had reached such a point in the years preceding his father’s death that Charles had requested that he leave the country temporarily—if not for good.
The Duke of Monmouth’s Military Qualifications
Monmouth’s military qualifications were impressive. In earlier days when he enjoyed his father’s favor, he had served as an apprentice to his Uncle James, who then held the position of Lord Admiral. Not long after Charles and France’s King Louis XIV entered into a secret pact in June 1670, Monmouth moved to the Continent, where he was given command of the 6,000-man English expeditionary force. When Charles later joined an alliance with the Dutch against the French, Monmouth was given command of the Anglo-Dutch brigade and subsequently distinguished himself at the Battle of St. Denis, in the waning days of the Franco-Dutch War. He later helped quash the so-called Covenanter Rebellion in 1679.

After his uncle ascended the throne in 1685, Monmouth seemed content to pursue a leisurely life in exile. Not sharing his contentment, however, was a vocal band of exiled Protestant Englishmen and Scotsmen who hungered to see the new Catholic king overthrown. The malcontents held a meeting in Rotterdam in April 1685 to decide what course of action to take. A leading proponent of forceful overthrow was Archibald Campbell, Earl of Argyle. King James, when he was still the Duke of York, had driven Argyle into exile on rather weak grounds in the wake of the Covenanter Rebellion. Other conspirators fell into several categories, including former Cromwellian officers, dissident English officers serving with the Dutch, and religious noncomformists from the West Country. All assured Monmouth that he would receive immediate support from London, the West Country, and Cheshire. His supporters told him that 10,000 troops could be expected in London alone. Letting his pride and ambition outrun his common sense, Monmouth fell in with the plotters.
Planning the Rebel Landings
The Dutch monarch, William, Prince of Orange, turned a blind eye to the rebels plotting in Rotterdam. He was married to Mary, James’s eldest daughter, and therefore was James II’s son-in-law as well as his cousin. By plotting in William’s backyard, Monmouth and his band were placing the Dutch ruler in an awkward position. When James made a strong request that his son-in-law halt the purchase of arms and stores for the expedition, William pretended to issue orders to prevent such sales, but in fact did little or nothing to interfere with the plot.
The rebels planned two separate landings. Argyle would sail to the western highlands of Scotland, where he would raise troops to support the rebellion, while Monmouth would land in Dorset, in southwestern England. Once he landed, Monmouth planned to march to Bristol and recruit supporters from towns and villages along the way. As the second wealthiest city in England, Bristol would provide a solid base from which Monmouth could receive arms and supplies from the Continent and transfer recruits by sea from Scotland and Cheshire.
Hardships Raising the War Chest
Argyle raised £9,000 from estates he owned in Friesland and purchased three ships to carry him and a small group of men to Scotland. He sailed on May 2, but financial difficulties and bad weather conspired to keep Monmouth stranded in the United Provinces for most of the month. When Monmouth sent a request to his supporters in London asking them to forward him £6,000 for his expedition, they replied that they could not raise such a sum without risking the king’s wrath. They warned Monmouth that the timing was not right for a rebellion.
Failing to heed their advice, Monmouth implored his Dutch supporters to provide funds to finance his expedition. They provided him with £3,000—less than half of what he needed to purchase the necessary transport and arms. Undeterred, Monmouth and his mistress pawned their jewels to raise an additional £4,000. With the money they had raised, Monmouth leased the Helderenberg, a fifth-rate Dutch frigate with 32 guns, to oppose any of the king’s warships that might contest his cross-Channel passage. He also purchased two fishing vessels to haul equipment and gunpowder, including four light guns and 1,500 cavalry breastplates. A detachment of Dutch gunners signed on with the expedition to work the four-gun field battery. The duke’s tiny invasion force, which numbered fewer than 100 men, boarded the vessels on May 24, but it would be another week before the weather permitted them to leave the sanctuary of the Texel River for the open seas.

Dorset Chosen for the Main Landing
Bevil Skelton, the English envoy in Holland, tracked the progress of the rebel preparations for James II. He advised the king that the main landing would occur in Dorset and that a diversionary landing would take place in either Ireland or Scotland. The king immediately issued orders to crush any seditious actions and prepared to repel the invaders. He sent a terse message to the far corners of the realm, ordering local officials to round up all suspected rebel leaders.
On June 1, Helderenberg sailed into open waters bound for the Dorset coast, 400 miles away. Heavy winds buffeted the ships as they sailed across the English Channel toward their destination. Because of the blustery weather, it took Monmouth’s ships 10 days to make the crossing. By some miracle, the rebel fleet failed to encounter one of at least a dozen heavily armed English warships patrolling in the area. A few hours after sunrise on June 11, a messenger informed Gregory Alford, the mayor of Lyme Regis, that three suspicious vessels showing no flags had been spotted heading toward the town. The mayor, who had been in the midst of a summer game of bowls atop the cliffs, hurried off dispatches to the Duke of Albermarle in Exeter and James II in London.
“Fear Nothing but God”
Helderenberg’s crew launched seven small boats at sunset that carried the first wave of invaders onto the beach. The duke knelt and prayed on the beach and then marched into town under a green-and-gold standard that bore the words “Fear Nothing but God.” Monmouth spent the following day putting the finishing touches on a proclamation in which he declared himself to be the legitimate son of Charles II and branded James a usurper to the throne. While the duke labored over the legally questionable document, his men unloaded the artillery, gunpowder, and supplies to make the declaration a fait accompli.
Although England as a whole was not ready to revolt against James, the West Country was a wise choice for the landing. At the time of the invasion, the region served as England’s major industrial area. It was populated by a large number of miners, textile workers, and tradesmen who were suffering from the adverse effects of an economic recession. These men, together with struggling freehold farmers, would swell the ranks of Monmouth’s army in the days following his landing. The rebel duke raised 800 men on the first day alone and nearly doubled that number on the second day of the invasion. The first rebel recruits from the counties of Dorset and Devon were mustered into Red and Green Regiments led by Colonels Samuel Venner and Abraham Holmes, respectively. During his advance inland, the duke would add three more regiments—White, Yellow, and Blue—to his invasion force.
Dawn on the second day brought no word from either Cheshire or Scotland. What it did bring was news that the militias of Dorset and Somerset were remaining loyal to the crown and mustering to oppose the duke. The next day, Monmouth instructed Venner to take 400 foot soldiers and 40 horsemen and launch a preemptive attack on the 1,300-strong Dorset militia in Bridgport. The attack failed. Venner was wounded in the encounter, and Lord Grey, the Earl of Warke, could not control the untrained rebel cavalry, which fled as soon as the firing began. Disaster seemed in the making, but Colonel Nathaniel Wade, the son of a Cromwellian officer, took command of the situation and conducted a disciplined withdrawal back to Lyme Regis. On the basis of his performance, Monmouth put Wade in command of the Red Regiment.
To suppress the rebellion, James II had at his disposal a small, well-trained army of 3,000 professional soldiers that he had inherited from his brother. When awakened from a deep slumber at 4 am on June 13 and informed that the rebels had landed in Dorset, the king immediately began issuing orders to mobilize his forces to suppress the rebellion and capture Monmouth. One such order went to Maj. Gen. John Churchill, later to become the Duke of Marlborough, to take four troops from the Earl of Oxford’s Regiment of Horse (nicknamed the Blues), two companies of Royal Dragoons, and five companies of Colonel Piercy Kirke’s Regiment of Foot and march to Dorset. Altogether, Churchill’s force totaled about 400 cavalry and dragoons and 300 infantry. He was instructed to shadow the rebel army as it marched but not to bring on a general engagement until he was reinforced.

Monmouth’s Army Moving North
Another order was sent to ordnance specialists at the Tower of London, instructing them to prepare a 16-gun artillery train with heavy guns for duty in the West Country. Similarly, the king ordered a smaller, 10-gun artillery train assembled at Portsmouth and sent to the royal army in the field. When James appealed to his supporters in Parliament to condemn Monmouth, they dutifully charged the duke with being a criminal and approved substantial funds to stamp out the rebellion.
Monmouth marched his army, which now numbered about 3,000 untrained recruits, north toward Taunton on June 15. Churchill, at the head of his horse troopers, arrived in Bridgport two days later. Before he left London, the general issued orders for Kirke’s regiment to catch up as fast as it could. Churchill shifted north to Chard on June 19 and waited for Kirke’s regiment, which arrived two days later. Word also came to the royal vanguard that the artillery train had departed London and that additional cavalry forces were on the way.
The first blow to Churchill came not from the rebels but rather in the form of news from London. Instead of entrusting overall command to Churchill, James chose instead to make Louis Duras, Earl of Feversham, the commander in chief of all royal forces. Feversham, a French Huguenot who had become a naturalized citizen and peer of the realm, was a long-trusted comrade of the king. The appointment was a bitter pill for Churchill to swallow. “My Lord Feversham has sole command here,” he complained. “I see plainly that the trouble is mine, and the honor will be another’s.” Nevertheless, when Monmouth’s army turned west toward Taunton on June 18, Churchill broke off his close pursuit and marched the royal vanguard north to join forces with Feversham.
Meanwhile, to accommodate a large number of additional recruits in Taunton, Monmouth created a new unit, the Blue Regiment, under the command of Colonel Richard Bovet. The landed gentry, however, remained conspicuously aloof and noncommittal. Despite their lack of support, Monmouth resolved to advance on Bristol.
The rebel army, some 5,000 strong by this point, struck out for Bristol on June 21. The day before, Feversham had left London for the West Country, escorted by 300 cavalry. The rebels marched by way of Bridgwater and Glastonbury, arriving at the small town of Keynsham, on the south bank of the Avon River, three days later. Monmouth and his staff rode forward to scout the approaches to Bristol, but heavy downpours forced the rebel army to retire to Keynsham, where an increasingly worried Monmouth pondered his next move.
Without warning, Feversham’s cavalry struck the rebels in Keynsham from two sides. Although casualties on both sides were light, it became painfully clear to Monmouth and his officers that the lack of experienced cavalry left the rebels vulnerable to harassment from the well-trained royal horse. With the cavalry blocking his advance on Bristol, Monmouth turned east toward Bath. After the townspeople of Bath declined to allow the rebels to enter their town, Monmouth continued south, arriving at Norton St. Philip on June 26.
With the royal army hot on his heels, Monmouth ordered a barricade erected on the north end of town. The following morning, Feversham probed the position held by the rebel rear guard. Monmouth, who had continued his march south, turned back to extract the rear guard from the skirmish. Sending one regiment to the right and another to the left, Monmouth managed to outflank the enemy. The 550 foot soldiers who constituted the royal force soon found themselves assailed on three sides. The rebels chased the small force through the fields, but halted their pursuit when they bumped into Feversham’s main line. The king’s army lost 80 men, while the rebels lost only 18.
Before he could celebrate his small triumph, word reached Monmouth that Argyle’s Scottish uprising had been crushed, and thus no reinforcements could be expected from Scotland or Cheshire. At a dispirited council of war, Monmouth suggested that the rebel army disperse and that he escape from England by boat. Grey argued that such an act would place his followers in extreme danger, and Monmouth agreed reluctantly to continue the rebellion. When the rebels learned that the king’s army had blocked the roads east, they returned to Bridgwater on July 3.

The king’s army pursued the rebels as they retreated. By that time, Feversham had assembled some 1,900 foot soldiers, 700 horsemen and dragoons, and 24 guns. The backbone of his army was the five foot regiments. The horse troopers were spread among the 1st Horse Guards, Oxford’s Blues, and the King’s Royal Dragoons. The royal horse and foot were likely to stand firm in a close fight unless the enemy should chance upon some significant advantage.
As the campaign dragged on with the chance of a rebel success diminishing with each passing day, Monmouth tried to think of a way out of the affair, either by departing England or by gathering more strength from adjacent regions. The beleaguered duke had intended to leave Bridgwater the following day, but the royal army was too close for him to steal a march. Willing to consider anything by that point, Monmouth hoped to slip across the Avon with his most zealous followers and find safe haven in Wales or Cheshire. When the king’s army took up positions three miles outside of Bridgwater at Westonzoyland on July 5, Monmouth had no choice but to fight or endure a siege.
Feversham ordered his men to pitch their tents on the northwest side of Westonzoyland, 100 yards behind a shallow drainage canal known locally as the Bussex Rhine, which lay on the southern fringe of a low-lying, marshy area called Sedgemoor. In selecting the position, Feversham judged that the canal, which ran alongside the west side of town, would provide a handy protective barrier if the rebels sallied forth to strike the king’s army. The royal camp, which was set 100 yards away from the ditch, was laid out in clearly marked regimental and company areas so that the infantry could form quickly in the open space between the ditch and the canal in the event of an attack.
The royal cavalry boarded their horses in several stables around town and billeted with the townspeople. In further preparation for a possible rebel attack, Feversham placed the majority of his guns on the southwestern edge of town to cover the Bridgwater road. The royal line stretched from the road for half a mile to a ford north of town called the Upper Plungeon. To provide early warning of an attack or to prevent the rebels from slipping away undetected, Feversham sent a force of about 50 cavalry and dragoons under Captain Sir Francis Compton to Chedzoy, a village midway between the two armies. At the same time, he instructed Colonel Theophilus Oglethorpe to lead 200 Blues on a long-range patrol to ensure that rebels did not march again for Bristol.
Monmouth’s troops were already formed into columns to march north toward the Avon when the duke received word that the king’s troops were close at hand and that cavalry patrols were blocking the roads leading out of Bridgwater. A local supporter named William Sparke sent his servant, called Godfrey, to assist Monmouth in navigating the local roads and fields.
After a quick council of war, Monmouth made a bold decision. He would risk everything in a night attack on the royalist encampment. Under cover of darkness, he hoped to slip past the enemy horse patrols, get around Feversham’s right flank, and attack him from behind. But first, he needed information on the enemy troop dispositions. He sent Godfrey with an escort to reconnoiter the enemy positions before dusk. Godfrey reported back that the royal troops had not begun strengthening their position by entrenching, but instead were stumbling about drunkenly. It was true, but only to a point. Most of the royal troops were well in hand, waiting grimly for the coming day of battle.
Monmouth was fully aware that it was extremely difficult for any troops—much less raw recruits—to carry out a successful night attack, but with his numbers dwindling daily due to desertions, he felt that he had no other choice. If he should win, he would have an open road to London and a notable victory that might draw the gentry to his cause. Rather than attacking directly east into the teeth of the enemy’s guns on the south end of Westonzoyland, Monmouth would rely on Godfrey to lead his men north on a circuitous five-mile march.
The route over which Godfrey intended to take the rebels around the enemy’s right flank would start on solid road for about two miles, then thread its way between the villages of Bawdrip and Chedzoy alongside a drainage canal known as the Black Ditch. As the rebels drew closer to Westonzoyland, they would have to cross yet another ditch, the Langmoor Rhine, before their final advance on Westonzoyland. At that point, Grey and his horsemen were to seize the Upper Plungeon and charge into Westonzoyland, creating havoc in the enemy rear. Fifteen minutes after Grey left for the ford, Monmouth would lead his men across Sedgemoor, through the dry bed of the Bussex Rhine and straight into the enemy camp.

That evening, the rebels prepared for their march, sharpening edged weapons, measuring powder for their muskets, and double-checking their guns. At 11 pm, Wade led the vanguard through the northern gate of Bridgwater and away into the night. With 5,000 infantry and 600 horsemen, Monmouth’s army outnumbered their better-trained opponents. As they tramped north along the Old Bristol Road, a thick mist rose from the surrounding moors, restricting their ability to see for more than a few yards. Monmouth rode behind the army to prevent straggling.
Leaving nearly all of their wagons on the main road, the rebels turned right onto Bradney Lane and then immediately left onto Marsh Lane to reach the Black Ditch. As the path grew narrower, Monmouth left two ammunition carts near the Peasy Farm to keep them from slowing the advance. As the rebels were preparing to march south along the Black Ditch, they suddenly heard a long, low rumble much like that of an approaching thunderstorm, indicating that a column of enemy horsemen was approaching. The rebels halted and sought cover as best they could. Oglethorpe’s 200-man-strong column pounded past them on the opposite side of the Black Ditch without detecting their presence.
Once the enemy cavalry had safely passed, Godfrey led his men southward along the Black Ditch in the direction of the Langmoor Rhine, which they would have to cross before they could march the last mile to the Bussex Rhine. The army was marching in one long column sandwiched between the ditch to the east and the cornfields south of Chedzoy to the west. Another mile of marching brought them to the Langmoor Rhine, an eight-foot-deep ditch filled with enough water to require using a ford, which Godfrey had told the duke was marked by a group of rocks known as the Langmoor Stone.
The heavy mist made scouting difficult, and even Godfrey was stumped by his surroundings. The scout strode back and forth along the canal, searching in desperation for the crossing. The column’s sudden halt created great confusion as the poorly trained horsemen collided with each other in the darkness, causing equipment to rattle like pots and pans in a country kitchen. The clumsiness and bungling gave rise to muffled curses as the horsemen began to lose their patience during the tense moments that followed the column’s halt.
About 2 am, a pistol shot rang through the misty night in the vicinity of the Langmoor Rhine. A captain in the Blues stationed in the cornfields south of Chedzoy had heard the commotion and fired a warning shot to alert his fellow troopers to the danger. Dashing as fast as possible to where Compton was stationed, the trooper reined his horse and informed his superior of what he had heard. Compton hastily assembled his command and instructed the alert trooper to ride to the Bussex Rhine and sound the alarm among the royal foot.
Reaching the north bank of the Bussex in a matter of minutes, the unnamed trooper shouted: “Beat your drums, the enemy is come! For the Lord’s sake, beat your drums!” He kept repeating the warning until he heard the sound of drumbeats in the distance calling the foot soldiers to arms. While the royal horse north of the Bussex were falling back, Godfrey at last found the Langmoor Stone, and the rebel cavalry splashed through the ford and onto the moors south of Langmoor. Monmouth, who had heard the warning shot and knew that the presence of his army had been detected, had no choice but to press his attack with the greatest speed possible.
As planned, the rebel horsemen under Grey rode hard for the Upper Plungeon over the Bussex Rhine. That crossing would prove no easier to find than the previous one. In the darkness, the rebel horsemen ran headlong into Compton’s troops, who were racing to reach the Upper Plungeon before the rebels. Shouts and pistol shots rang out as each side sought to distinguish friend from foe in the darkness. Compton was struck in the belly by a rebel bullet, and Captain Edwin Sandys took over his command.
Desperate to get across before the royal troops had time to fortify the crossing, Grey divided his force, taking 400 horsemen and riding west along the Bussex to find the Upper Plungeon, while Captain John Jones led the remaining 200 horsemen east. Jones eventually found the crossing, but Sandys’s men had managed to reach it first. Riding around in the darkness, Grey led his 400 horsemen along the Bussex opposite the royal encampment. When a few of the Royal Scots asked the horsemen to identify themselves, Grey responded that he was leading militia sent to reinforce Feversham. Proceeding west along the canal, he was similarly challenged by an officer of the First Foot, who demanded, “Who are you for?” “For the King!” replied Grey. “What King?” “King Monmouth and God with us!” replied Grey, who had finally decided to give up his ruse. “Then take this with you!” cried the royalist officer, whose men poured a deadly volley into the rebel horse. The weight of fire proved too much for the untrained rebel cavalrymen, whose horses bolted for the rear.

Realizing that the element of surprise had been lost, Monmouth urged his colonels to lead their regiments forward as quickly as possible. Although the Blue and White regiments had not yet crossed the Langmoor Rhine, the Red, Yellow, and Green Regiments were already across and preparing to advance. These three regiments raced at the double-quick across the moor toward a sea of glowing matchlocks that marked the battle line of the royal foot. Their orderly advance was disrupted when Grey’s horsemen chose to retreat directly through the ranks of their own infantry. The chaos was considerable as Grey’s horsemen knocked down foot soldiers and opened large gaps in the rebel foot formations. Meanwhile, the demoralized rebel horse fled the field, encouraging the crews of the ammunition wagons to abandon the field when they incorrectly informed them that the attack had been rebuffed.
Upon reaching the Bussex, Wade’s Red Regiment stopped and formed itself into a line of battle on the rebel right flank. Taking its cue from the vanguard, the Yellow Regiment also halted short of the ditch and moved into position next to Wade’s regiment. Holmes’s Green Regiment aligned itself with the other two regiments on the left. In the darkness, the regimental commanders were unaware that they were literally astride the royal right flank and, as a result, could bring to bear far greater firepower than the king’s force, since many of the royal regiments were deployed farther west where there was no rebel threat. The Blue and White Regiments lagged considerably behind the first three regiments.
A steady roll of drums had brought the five regiments of royal infantry quickly out of their tents and onto the south side of the Bussex. Many were only partially dressed, but each had his musket and substantial powder for the fight that was unfolding in the predawn darkness. The British line ran in a southwest-to-northeast line before turning sharply east above Westonzoyland. The three rebel regiments greatly outnumbered the Royal Scots, who occupied the royal right opposite them.
The musketeers of the Red and Yellow Regiments were able to bring their muskets to bear on Dumbarton’s regiment at close range. As if a hail of musket balls were not enough, the Scots also stood well within range of the rebel battery manned by experienced Dutch gunners. The Scots’ line wavered but held.
Churchill, who appeared on the front lines around 3 am to take control of the situation, immediately sought to secure the flanks of the royal army. Since the reserve horsemen billeted in the town were not immediately at hand, Churchill dispatched the dragoons from his own command to support the foot. He sent one troop of dragoons to take up position on the left flank and two troops of dragoons to shore up the right flank. The 100 dragoons dispatched to the royal right flank were soon hotly engaged with the musketeers of Holmes’s Green Regiment occupying the rebel left flank, which outnumbered them nearly 6-to-1.
The fighting between Holmes’s musketeers and the dragoons was a confused affair. A lieutenant with the dragoons rode forward at one point and, in a clever ruse, shouted to the rebel artillerymen to stop firing on their fellow soldiers. The Dutch gunners, unsure of their target, held their fire until they could confirm that they were not shelling friendly troops. Holmes, annoyed by the temporary cease-fire, rode forward to straighten things out. “Who are you for?” shouted the lieutenant of the dragoons. “For who but Monmouth?” replied Holmes. No sooner had he spoken than a musket ball toppled him from his horse. Pinned beneath his horse in agony, Holmes eventually was captured and led away by the king’s men.
With the royal right flank in danger of collapse, Churchill ordered two regiments of foot—Kirke’s and Trelawney’s—to march from the left flank through the royal camp and deploy in a manner that would extend the royal right flank. By redeploying the two regiments of foot, Churchill was able to even the odds and relieve the pressure on the Scots and dragoons. The near collapse of the royal right flank would later turn out to be the high-water mark of the battle for the rebels, the only time that Monmouth’s ragged army of volunteers came close to doing any serious damage.

Meanwhile, the royal artillerymen were trying to locate horses to haul guns to where they could be brought into action on the right flank. The civilian drivers had removed the horses to stalls in Westonzoyland, and the only horses available belonged to Peter Mews, the bishop of Winchester, who had arrived earlier that day to share his knowledge of the local terrain and population with Feversham. As the fighting raged on the royal right flank, the artillerymen used brute force and the bishop’s team of horses to drag half a dozen guns from one side of the battle line to the other. They positioned three behind the Guards to shell the Red Regiment, and a similar number behind the Scots Regiment to bombard the Yellow Regiment.
With the royal right flank reinforced with additional foot and a full battery of guns, the tide shifted rapidly to the king’s army. When the royal guns went into action, they blasted large gaps in the rebel ranks that produced panic among the unsteady recruits. The guns not only punished the rebels already in line of battle, but also disrupted the men of the White Regiment who were advancing from the Langmoor Rhine to reinforce their comrades already in action.
Feversham’s absence for the first hour of battle was due to a sleep disorder that made it difficult to rouse him from a deep slumber. After a protracted effort, aides managed to wake the royal commander in chief about 3 am, and Feversham arrived at the front about an hour later, issuing an immediate order forbidding the infantry to cross the Bussex until daylight for fear the royal musketeers might fire into each other. He also ordered the deployment of the remaining 450 horsemen still dispersed at billets inside Westonzoyland. By the time Feversham arrived, most of the additional cavalrymen had assembled in formation and were anxiously awaiting orders. The commander in chief dispatched 200 horsemen to the left flank and another 250 to the right.
About that time, Oglethorpe’s 200-man command thundered back to the royal camp via the Bridgwater Road, having ridden in a complete circuit around the rebel army without ever discovering its true location. When Oglethorpe reported to Feversham, the commander ordered his men to continue riding until they reached
the Upper Plungeon. Once at that location, Oglethorpe’s Blues were to force a crossing and disperse any rebels guarding the ford on the opposite bank. The Blues brushed aside the rebel cavalry and continued advancing until they ran headlong into enemy foot soldiers, a number of whom wielded nasty-looking scythes that intimidated Oglethorpe’s troopers. Losing their way in the darkness, many of the Blues failed to return to the Upper Plungeon and were forced to ride west across the battlefront while being fired upon by both friend and foe.
Throughout the fighting, Monmouth strode back and forth behind his infantry holding aloft a half pike and encouraging the men to stand fast. As the fighting grew more intense, the duke sought out his regimental commanders to consult with them on the battle’s progress. Without cavalry support and lacking ammunition, the rebel foot had nothing with which to sustain its attack. As the initiative shifted to the king’s army, Monmouth turned to Grey, who had remained at his side, and said of his own infantry: “All the world cannot stop those fellows. They will run presently.”
The rebel commander was not the only one who realized that the battle was lost. By dawn, the men in the ranks realized that they would not triumph on the field that day and began preparing to retreat. In addition to the Blues harassing their left flank, some royal dragoons had crossed the Bussex and were probing the rebel right flank as well. With the royal cavalry nipping at their unprotected flanks, the rebels broke off their attack and began streaming toward the rear.
The withdrawal of the rebel pike blocks—whose men were responsible for protecting the musketeers in their regiment from enemy cavalry—served as a signal to Feversham to switch to the offensive. With trumpets sounding a general advance, the royal cavalry crossed the Bussex and reformed on the north bank. The cavalry troops began to advance in closely packed ranks. The Blues on the rebel left rallied and were heavily reinforced. Rather than riding after the retreating battle line, they circled into the enemy rear, where they disrupted the ranks of the Blue and White Regiments. The Dutch gunners made a heroic effort to try to withdraw their guns, but they were butchered by royal sabers.

Once his cavalry advanced, Feversham gave the signal for the foot soldiers to cross the Bussex and join the pursuit. The red-coated soldiers marched through the nearly dry Bussex and, like the horsemen before them, reformed on the opposite bank. The musketeers inserted plug bayonets into their muskets, while the pikes lowered their staffs. With a shout, the infantry began its advance toward the Langmoor. A few brave rebels tried to make a stand in the face of the overwhelming assault, but they were swept away by the advancing royal tide.
Rather than surrender to his fate, Monmouth resolved to escape, with the forlorn hope of continuing the Protestant cause from outside the country. As his army crumbled around him, he quickly shed his armor to make himself less conspicuous and rode north with Grey and a small group of supporters who also hoped to escape with their lives.
Meanwhile, Monmouth’s leaderless men fled for their lives across Sedgemoor, pursued by companies of crack grenadiers dispatched from the various foot regiments. The desperate rebels sought shelter individually or in small groups, but the pursuit by the grenadiers, supported by the royal horse, was relentless, and the majority of the rebel infantrymen were either killed or captured. The Scots, who had suffered the most among the royal foot engaged that day, exacted revenge by rounding up a large number of rebel prisoners on their own, taking two guns and seizing five flags.
The king’s army lost about 300 men that morning, while the rebels lost upward of 1,000 killed or wounded. Feversham’s men and local militia combed through the prisoners and scoured the countryside in a quest to apprehend Monmouth and bring him before the king. Monmouth, Grey, and the others first made their way to the Mendip Hills, south of Bristol, before turning south through Dorset in the hopes of reaching the port of Poole on the English Channel where they hoped to get a boat back to Holland.
To increase their chances of escaping, the band split up into individuals or pairs. Grey, who was captured first, eventually secured a pardon by providing information on his fellow conspirators. Monmouth exchanged clothes with a shepherd at Woodyates, but his luck ran out not far from Poole. On the morning of July 8, the disheveled duke was found hiding in a ditch on the outskirts of town. He was transported to London and dragged before his uncle on July 14. Monmouth begged for mercy, but the king turned a deaf ear to his pleas. The following morning, Monmouth was led to a scaffold erected next to the Tower of London. It took the incompetent executioner five blows of the axe before the rebellious duke’s head was completely severed from his body.
The retribution did not end with Monmouth’s beheading. James was determined to exact revenge from the West Country as a safeguard against future Protestant rebellions. The crown ordered local officials in the counties of Somerset, Dorset, and Devon to draw up lists of all men absent from their homes during the uprising. As many as 1,500 rebels soon awaited trial in local jails. To lead the special court that would put Monmouth’s rebels and their supporters on trial, James dispatched Lord Chief Justice George Jeffreys.
The Bloody Assizes, as the ensuing circuit trials would later be known, began in earnest with Jeffreys’s arrival in Winchester on August 25. Over the course of the next four weeks, the circuit court traveled to six towns in the region where trials were held. Altogether, 333 were convicted of high treason and sentenced to death by beheading or hanging, while another 814 were sent into exile in the West Indies to serve as indentured servants—little better than slaves—for a period of 10 years.
The blood-drenched Assizes was so effective that when William of Orange landed in the West Country three years later at the head of a new Protestant army of 15,000 to seize the throne of England from James, the tradesmen and commoners sat out the rebellion. Instead, they left it to the West Country gentry—the very men who had shunned Monmouth in his hour of need—to support the prince in his successful quest to become king of England. Monmouth, meanwhile, lay forgotten in a tiny chapel inside the Tower of London.
It is ironic that question of English royal succession was not finally firmly established and put to order until the importation of of the German Elector Of Hanover in 1714. This was a choice that filled the requirement for a Protestant but little more as he spoke almost no English and remained firmly continental in his habits.