the authorities at Amsterdam to prevent the ship sailing; but, though the States-General gave orders that she should be stopped, the Admiralty of Amsterdam professed that they had not a force at their disposal strong enough to take her. One of the tenders was seized; but the Helderenberg, with the other two, sailed with Monmouth and his followers, who now numbered eighty-two—of whom Lord Grey and Fletcher were the highest in rank. The bad weather continued after they left the Texel; but at last the little company found themselves off the shores of Dorsetshire.

Their intention was to land at Lyme; but Dare was put ashore at Seaton, which lies a short distance to the west of Lyme, with orders to make his way to Taunton, and inform the friends of the Protestant cause that Monmouth was at hand.

Between seven and eight o’clock on the evening of Thursday, the 11th of June, the frigate anchored off Lyme, and Monmouth, accompanied by Fletcher, Grey, and the rest of his followers, landed.

What happened next is well known. The town was seized; the blue flag was hoisted in the market-place; the manifesto which Ferguson had prepared was read; and the people assembled with cries of ‘Monmouth, and the Protestant Religion.’

The leaders of the expedition lodged in the George Inn; and during the following day Fletcher and Monmouth were constantly together, while recruits arrived in such numbers that the Duke’s hopes rose high. All that day they were arriving, and the lists filled rapidly—one of those who joined being Daniel Defoe, the future author of Robinson Crusoe, then a young man of twenty-four. The only bad news which reached Lyme was that the Dorsetshire Militia were assembling at Bridport.

Early next morning, Saturday the 13th of June, Dare returned from his mission to Taunton at the head of forty horsemen. He was mounted on a fine charger, which he was said to have obtained at Fort Abbey, the seat of Mr. Prideaux.

On that day Fletcher dined with Monmouth, and a council of war, at which Lord Grey was doubtless present, was held. It was resolved to attack the Dorset Militia at Bridport, and the command of the horse was intrusted to Grey and Fletcher. Orders were given that the attack on Bridport, which is only a few miles from Lyme, should take place that afternoon.

And now occurred that unhappy incident which not only sent Fletcher once more into exile, but probably had a fatal influence on the fortunes of Monmouth. The horse on which Dare had ridden into Lyme that morning had attracted the attention of Fletcher, and, without asking leave of Dare, he went and took it, thinking, as Dalrymple puts it, that times of danger were not times of ceremony. Dare objected, assailing Fletcher with a volley of insults and bad language, which he bore patiently, perhaps because the other was not his equal in rank, or because he was unwilling to engage in a private quarrel when on duty. But the rough Englishman was at last foolish enough to think, from the calm demeanour of Fletcher, that he could bully him into giving up the horse, and had the insolence to shake a stick in his face. On this Fletcher, in a passion, pulled out a pistol, and in another moment Dare was a dead man.

There can be little doubt that this is what actually took place. Ferguson, indeed, represents it as a mere accident for which Fletcher was not to blame. ‘The death of Dare was caused,’ he says, ‘by his own intemperate and unruly passion, and beyond the intention of the gentleman whose misfortune it was to do it; who, having snatched his pistol into his hand for no other end but to preserve himself from the other’s rude assault with a cane, had the unhappiness, unawares, to shoot him, contrary to his thoughts and inclinations, and to his inconceivable grief.’ But Burnet, who probably heard the story from Fletcher himself, says nothing about any accident, and his account is corroborated by the evidence which Buyse afterwards gave at Edinburgh, which will be found in the eleventh volume of the State Trials. Fletcher went and told Monmouth what had happened; and, while they were speaking, the country people, headed by Dare’s son, appeared, demanding that justice should be done. Monmouth instantly saw that it would be impossible to retain Fletcher in his service, and advised him to make haste on board the frigate, and at the same time he sent orders to the master to sail.

Ferguson says that Monmouth advised Fletcher to withdraw for a time, ‘to prevent murmuring among some of ourselves, as well as to remove occasion of resentment in the inhabitants of Taunton.’ But he says that he only told Fletcher to go ‘under a desire and command to return and meet him at a place which he named, but where, alas! we never had the happiness to arrive.’

But Monmouth knew that he had lost the services of Fletcher, and he was distressed beyond measure at the double blow. The loss of Dare, who knew the country well, was serious; and when Fletcher rushed to the shore and made his way to the Helderenberg, Monmouth felt that he was losing the only competent officer in his little army, and one of the few men of any rank who were with him. ‘Though,’ says Ferguson, ‘the damage that befell us by the dismissing of that gentleman cannot easily be imagined or expressed, yet this I may say towards giving an idea of it—that as he was a person who, by his courage, military skill, civil prudence, application to business, and the interest he had in the Duke, would have contributed much to the conduct of our whole affairs, and have promoted the embracing all opportunities for action attended with any probable success; so he would have done everything that could have been expected from a person of character and worth in a decisive engagement.’ Though prudence was not one of Fletcher’s virtues, this is scarcely an over-estimate of the loss which Monmouth’s army had sustained in the loss of Fletcher; and when, next morning, the attack on Bridport took place, in which the horse made such a poor display under the command of Grey, not only the Scotsman Ferguson, but the whole army, must have regretted the absence of the brave Scottish gentleman. ‘With Fletcher,’ says Dalrymple, ‘all Monmouth’s chances of success in war left him.’

Lord Buchan’s account of the reasons which led Fletcher to leave Monmouth may be at once rejected. ‘The account,’ he says, ‘given by Fletcher himself of his general conduct at this time to the late Earl Marshal of Scotland was, that he had been induced to join the Duke of Monmouth on the principles of the Duke’s manifestoes in England and Scotland, particularly by the laws promised for the permanent security of civil and political liberty and of the Protestant religion, and the calling of a general congress of delegates from the people at large, to form a free constitution of government, and not to pretend to the throne upon any claim, except the free choice of the representatives of the people. That, when Monmouth was proclaimed King at Taunton, he saw his deception, and resolved to proceed no further in his engagement, which he considered from that moment as treason against the just rights of the nation, and treachery on the part of Monmouth. That, finding himself therefore no longer capable of being useful, he left Taunton and embarked on board a vessel for Spain.’

It is difficult to explain this statement. That it is not in accordance with fact is undeniable; for the very simple reason that nothing can be more certain than that Fletcher killed Dare and left England on the 13th of June, and that Monmouth was not proclaimed King until the 20th. In fact,