Axminster, not a mile away, was in Leland's day 'a pratie quik Market Town.' It was the scene of one very interesting event, for here the Duke of Monmouth's followers first met the royal troops under the renowned General Monk, then Duke of Albemarle, and caused them to fly before their inferior undisciplined numbers. Albemarle dared not risk a battle, as he became alarmed by the temper of his troops, and feared lest they might go over to Monmouth if they did but catch sight of their beloved hero; for the General's troops belonged to the Devonshire militia, and Monmouth was adored by all the country-people in the West. The General ordered a hurried retreat, without attempting any engagement, and Monmouth marched triumphantly to Taunton. The callous brutality of Sedgmoor, and the atrocious barbarities of the Bloody Assizes following it, are too intolerable to think of. A ballad has been written called 'The Sorrowful Lamentation of the Widdows of the West', and one wonders whether its obsequious tone is due to the author being a partisan of James II, who expressed what he thought they ought to feel, or whether the verse-maker was one in their midst, who saw that there was indeed no spirit left in them. I quote a few of the verses: 'Alas! we Widdowes of the West, whose Husbands did rebell, Of Comfort we are dispossest, our sorrows did excell. Here for their Crimes they lost their lives, Rebellion was the cause, And we confess, that was their wives, they did oppose the Laws. When _Monmouth_ came ashore at _Lime_, it was a Fatal Day; To carry on that base design, which did their lives betray; And many daily did presume to come unto his aid, _Bridge-water_, _Taunton_, _Dean_, and _Frome_, the Nation to invade. We said it was a horrid thing, and pray'd them to forbear To take up arms against their king, who was the Lawful Heir, Yet like distracted men they run to cast their lives away, And we their Widdowes are undone; this is a dismal day. Alas! we had no cause at all, our Laws was still the same, That we should to confusion fall, and hundreds thus be slain. They knew not what they went about; confusion did attend, The Heavens would not bear them out, since they did thus offend.' CHAPTER IV Dartmoor 'Dartmoor! thou wert to me, in childhood's hour, A wild and wond'rous region. Day by day Arose upon my youthful eye thy belt Of hills mysterious, shadowy.... I feel The influence of that impressive calm Which rests upon them. Nothing that has life Is visible:--no solitary flock At will wide ranging through the silent Moor Breaks the deep-felt monotony; and all Is motionless save where the giant shades, Flung by the passing cloud, glide slowly o'er The grey and gloomy wild.' CARRINGTON: _Dartmoor_.