Lynn, who had newly come in to join the insurgent army, in consequence of which he was under the necessity of leaving the camp immediately. The melancholy fate of Monmouth is generally known.
Though there cannot be a doubt that the shooting of the mayor of Lynn was the real cause of Fletcher's abandoning the enterprise so early, he himself never admitted it. He had joined, he said, the duke of Monmouth on the footing of his manifestations, which promised to provide for the permanent security of civil liberty and the protestant religion, by the calling of a general congress of delegates from the people at large, to form a free constitution of government, in which no claim to the throne was to be admitted, but with the free choice of the representatives of the people. From the proclaiming of Monmouth king, which was done at Taunton, he saw, he said, that he had been deceived, and resolved to proceed no further, every step from that moment being treason against the just rights of the nation, and deep treachery on the part of Monmouth. At any rate, finding that he could be no longer useful, he left Taunton, and embarked aboard a vessel for Spain, where he no sooner arrived, than he was thrown into prison, and on the application of the British ambassador, was ordered to be delivered up and transmitted to London in a Spanish ship fitted up for that purpose. In this hopeless situation, looking one morning through the bars of his dungeon, he was accosted by a person, who made signs that he wished to speak with him. Looking around him, Fletcher perceived an open door, at which he was met by his deliverer, with whom he passed unmolested through three different military guards, all of whom seemed to be fast asleep, and without being permitted to return thanks to his guide, made good his escape, with the assistance of one who evidently had been sent for the express purpose, but of whom he never obtained the smallest information. Travelling in disguise, he proceeded through Spain, and considering himself out of danger, made a leisurely pilgrimage through the country, amusing himself in the libraries of the convents, where he had the good fortune to find many rare and curious books, some of which he was enabled to purchase and bring along with him, to the enriching of the excellent library he had already formed at his seat of Salton, in East Lothian. In the course of his peregrinations, he made several very narrow escapes, among which the following is remarkable, as having apparently furnished the hint for a similar incident in a well-known fiction. He was proceeding to a town where he intended to have passed the night; but in the skirts of a wood, a few miles from thence, upon entering a road to the right, he was warned by a woman of respectable appearance to take the left hand road, as there would be danger in the other direction. Upon his arrival, he found the citizens alarmed by the news of a robbery and murder, which had taken place on the road against which he had been cautioned, and in which he would have certainly been implicated, through an absurd Spanish law, even although not seen to commit any crime. After leaving Spain, he proceeded into Hungary, where he entered as a volunteer into the army, and distinguished himself by his gallantry and military talents. From this distant scene of activity, however, he was soon recalled by the efforts that at length were making to break the yoke of tyranny and the staff of the oppressor that had so long lain heavy on the kingdom of Britain. Coming to the Hague, he found there his old friends, Stair, Melville, Polworth, Cardross, Stuart of Coltness, Stuart of Goodtrees, Dr Burnet, and Mr Cunningham, who still thought his principles high and extravagant, though they associated with him, and were happy to have the influence of his name and the weight of his talents to aid them on so momentous an occasion. Though not permitted to be a leader in the great work of the revolution, for
