Memoirs of a Cavalier by Daniel Defoe (page 4)

laws of war than to suggest it.

That it was a very unhappy thing to the king and whole nation, as it broke off the hopes of peace, and was the occasion of bringing the Scots army in upon us, I readily acknowledge, but that there was anything dishonourable in it, I cannot allow. For though the Parliament had addressed to the king for peace, and such steps were taken in it as before, yet, as I have said, there was no proposals made on either side for a cessation of arms, and all the world must allow, that in such cases the war goes on in the field, while the peace goes on in the cabinet. And if the war goes on, admit the king had designed to surprise the city or Parliament, or all of them, it had been no more than the custom of war allows, and what they would have done by him if they could. The treaty of Westphalia, or peace of Munster, which ended the bloody wars of Germany, was a precedent for this. That treaty was actually negotiating seven years, and yet the war went on with all the vigour and rancour imaginable, even to the last. Nay, the very time after the conclusion of it, but before the news could be brought to the army, did he that was afterwards King of Sweden, Carolus Gustavus, take the city of Prague by surprise, and therein an inestimable booty. Besides, all the wars of Europe are full of examples of this kind, and therefore I cannot see any reason to blame the king for this action as to the fairness of it. Indeed, as to the policy of it, I can say little; but the case was this. The king had a gallant army, flushed with success, and things hitherto had gone on very prosperously, both with his own army and elsewhere; he had above 35,000 men in his own army, including his garrison left at Banbury, Shrewsbury, Worcester, Oxford, Wallingford, Abingdon, Reading, and places adjacent. On the other hand, the Parliament army came back to London in but a very sorry condition;[1] for what with their loss in their victory, as they called it, at Edgehill, their sickness, and a hasty march to London, they were very much diminished, though at London they soon recruited them again. And this prosperity of the king’s affairs might encourage him to strike this blow, thinking to bring the Parliament to the better terms by the apprehensions of the superior strength of the king’s forces.

But, however it was, the success did not equally answer the king’s expectation. The vigorous defence the troops posted at Brentford made as above, gave the Earl of Essex opportunity, with extraordinary application, to draw his forces out to Turnham Green. And the exceeding alacrity of the enemy was such, that their whole army appeared with them, making together an army of 24,000 men, drawn up in view of our forces by eight o’clock the next morning. The city regiments were placed between the regular troops, and all together offered us battle, but we were not in a condition to accept it. The king indeed was sometimes of the mind to charge them, and once or twice ordered parties to advance to begin to skirmish, but upon better advice altered his mind, and indeed it was the wisest counsel to defer the fighting at that time. The Parliament generals were as unfixed in their resolutions, on the other side, as the king; sometimes they sent out parties, and then called them back again. One strong party of near 3000 men marched off towards Acton, with orders to amuse us on that side, but were countermanded. Indeed, I was of the opinion we might have ventured the battle, for though the Parliament’s army were more numerous, yet the city trained bands, which made up 4000 of their foot, were not much esteemed, and the king was a great deal stronger in horse than they. But the main reason that hindered the engagement, was want of ammunition, which the king having duly weighed, he caused the carriages and cannon to draw off first, and then the foot, the horse continuing to force the enemy till all was clear gone; and then we drew off too and marched to Kingston, and the next day to Reading.

Now the king saw his mistake in not continuing his march for London, instead of facing about to fight the enemy at Edgehill. And all the honour we had gained in so many successful enterprises lay buried in this shameful retreat from an army of citizens’ wives; for truly that appearance at Turnham Green was gay, but not great. There was as many lookers-on as actors. The crowds of ladies, apprentices, and mob was so great, that when the parties of our army advanced, and as they thought, to charge, the coaches, horsemen, and crowd, that cluttered away to be out of harm’s way, looked little better than a rout. And I was persuaded a good home charge from our horse would have sent their whole army after them. But so it was, that this crowd of an army was to triumph over us, and they did it, for all the kingdom was carefully informed how their dreadful looks had frightened us away.

Upon our retreat, the Parliament resent this attack, which they call treacherous, and vote no accommodation; but they considered of it afterwards, and sent six commissioners to the king with propositions. But the change of the scene of action changed the terms of peace, and now they made terms like conquerors, petition him to desert his army, and return to the Parliament, and the like. Had his Majesty, at the head of his army, with the full reputation they had before, and in the ebb of their affairs, rested at Windsor, and commenced a treaty, they had certainly made more reasonable proposals; but now the scabbard seemed to be thrown away on both sides.

The rest of the winter was spent in strengthening parties and places, also in fruitless treaties of peace, messages, remonstrances, and paper war on both sides, and no action remarkable happened anywhere that I remember. Yet the king gained ground everywhere, and his forces in the north increased under the Earl of Newcastle; also my Lord Goring, then only called Colonel Goring, arrived from Holland, bringing three ships laden with arms and ammunition, and notice that the queen was following with more. Goring brought 4000 barrels of gunpowder, and 20,000 small arms; all which came very seasonably, for the king was in great want of them, especially the powder. Upon this recruit the Earl of Newcastle draws down to York, and being above 16,000 strong, made Sir Thomas Fairfax give ground, and retreat to Hull.

Whoever lay still, Prince Rupert was always abroad, and I chose to go out with his Highness as often as I had opportunity, for hitherto he was always successful. About this time the prince being at Oxford, I gave him intelligence of a party of the enemy who lived a little at large, too much for good soldiers, about Cirencester. The prince, glad of the news, resolved to attack them, and though it was a wet season, and the ways exceeding bad, being in February, yet we marched all night in the dark, which occasioned the loss of some horses and men too, in sloughs and holes, which the darkness of the night had suffered them to fall into. We were a very strong party, being about 3000 horse and dragoons, and coming to Cirencester very early in the morning, to our great satisfaction the enemy were perfectly surprised, not having the least notice of our march, which answered our end more ways than one. However, the Earl of Stamford’s regiment made some resistance; but the town having no works to defend it, saving a slight breastwork at the entrance of the road, with a turnpike, our dragoons alighted, and forcing their way over the bellies of Stamford’s foot, they beat them from their defence, and followed them at their heels into the town. Stamford’s regiment was entirely cut in pieces, and several others, to the number of about 800 men, and the town entered without any other resistance. We took 1200 prisoners, 3000 arms, and the county magazine, which at that time was considerable; for there was about 120 barrels of powder, and all things in proportion.

I received the first hurt I got in this war at this action, for having followed the dragoons and brought my regiment within the barricado which they had gained, a musket bullet struck my horse just in the head, and that so effectually that he fell down as dead as a stone all at once. The fall plunged me into a puddle of water and daubed me; and my man having brought me another horse and cleaned me a little, I was just getting up, when another bullet struck me on my left hand, which I had just clapped on the horse’s main to lift myself into the saddle. The blow broke one of my fingers, and bruised my hand very much; and it proved a very painful hurt to me. For the present I did not much concern myself about it, but made my man tie it up close in my handkerchief, and led up my men to the market-place, where we had a very smart brush with some musketeers who were posted in the churchyard; but our dragoons soon beat them out there, and the whole town was then our own. We made no stay here, but marched back with all our booty to Oxford, for we knew the enemy were very strong at Gloucester, and that way.

Much about the same time, the Earl of Northampton, with a strong party, set upon Lichfield, and took the town, but could not take the Close; but they beat a body of 4000 men coming to the relief of the town, under Sir John Gell, of Derbyshire, and Sir William Brereton, of Cheshire, and killing 600 of them, dispersed the rest.

Our second campaign now began to open; the king marched from Oxford to relieve Reading, which was besieged by the Parliament forces; but General Fielding, Lieutenant-Governor, Sir Arthur Ashton being wounded, surrendered to Essex before the king could come up; for which he was tried by martial law, and condemned to die, but the king forbore to execute the sentence. This was the first town we had lost in the war, for still the success of the king’s affairs was very encouraging. This bad news, however, was overbalanced by an account brought the king at the same time, by an express from York, that the queen had landed in the north, and had brought over a great magazine of arms and ammunition, besides some men. Some time after this her Majesty, marching southward to meet the king, joined the army near Edgehill, where the first battle was fought. She brought the king 3000 foot, 1500 horse and dragoons, six pieces of cannon, 1500 barrels of powder, 12,000 small arms.

During this prosperity of the king’s affairs his armies increased mightily in the western counties also. Sir William Waller, indeed, commanded for the Parliament in those parts too, and particularly in Dorsetshire, Hampshire, and Berkshire, where he carried on their cause but too fast; but farther west, Sir Nicholas Slanning, Sir Ralph Hopton, and Sir Bevil Grenvile had extended the king’s quarters from Cornwall through Devonshire, and into Somersetshire, where they took Exeter, Barnstaple, and Bideford; and the first of these they fortified very well, making it a place of arms for the west, and afterwards it was the residence of the queen.

At last, the famous Sir William Waller and the king’s forces met, and came to a pitched battle, where Sir William lost all his honour again. This was at Roundway Down in Wiltshire. Waller had engaged our Cornish army at Lansdown, and in a very obstinate fight had the better of them, and made them retreat to the Devizes. Sir William Hopton, however, having a good body of foot untouched, sent expresses and messengers one in the neck of another to the king for some horse, and the king being in great concern for that army, who were composed of the flower of the Cornish men, commanded me to march with all possible secrecy, as well as expedition, with 1200 horse and dragoons from Oxford, to join them. We set out in the depth of the night, to avoid, if possible, any intelligence being given of our route, and soon joined with the Cornish army, when it was as soon resolved to give battle to Waller; and, give him his due, he was as forward to fight as we. As it is easy to meet when both sides are willing to be found, Sir William Waller met us upon Roundway Down, where we had a fair field on both sides, and room enough to draw up our horse. In a word, there was little ceremony to the work; the armies joined, and we charged his horse with so much resolution, that they quickly fled, and quitted the field; for we over-matched him in horse, and this was the entire destruction of their army. For the infantry, which outnumbered ours by 1500, were now at our mercy; some faint resistance they made, just enough to give us occasion to break into their ranks with our horse, where we gave time to our foot to defeat others that stood to their work, upon which they began to disband, and run every way they could; but our horse having surrounded them, we made a fearful havoc of them.

We lost not about 200 men in this action; Waller lost about 4000 killed and taken, and as many dispersed that never returned to their colours. Those of foot that escaped got into Bristol, and Waller, with the poor remains of his routed regiments, got to London; so that it is plain some ran east, and some ran west, that is to say, they fled every way they could.

My going with this detachment prevented my being at the siege of Bristol, which Prince Rupert attacked much about the same time, and it surrendered in three days. The Parliament questioned Colonel Nathaniel Fiennes, the governor, and had him tried as a coward by a court-martial, and condemned to die, but suspended the execution also, as the king did the governor of Reading. I have often heard Prince Rupert say, they did Colonel Fiennes wrong in that affair; and that if the colonel would have summoned him, he would have demanded a passport of the Parliament, and have come up and convinced the court that Colonel Fiennes had not misbehaved himself, and that he had not a sufficient garrison to defend a city of that extent; having not above 1200 men in the town, excepting some of Waller’s runaways, most of whom were unfit for service, and without arms; and that the citizens in general being disaffected to him, and ready on the first occasion to open the gates to the king’s forces, it was impossible for him to have kept the city. “And when I had farther informed them,” said the prince, “of the measures I had taken for a general assault the next day, I am confident I should have convinced them that I had taken the city by storm, if he had not surrendered.”

The king’s affairs were now in a very good posture, and three armies in the north, west, and in the centre, counted in the musters about 70,000 men besides small garrisons and parties abroad. Several of the lords, and more of the commons, began to fall off from the Parliament, and make their peace with the king; and the affairs of the Parliament began to look very ill. The city of London was their inexhaustible support and magazine, both for men, money, and all things necessary; and whenever their army was out of order, the clergy of their party in but one Sunday or two, would preach the young citizens out of their shops, the labourers from their masters, into the army, and recruit them on a sudden. And all this was still owing to the omission I first observed, of not marching to London, when it might have been so easily effected.

We had now another, or a fairer opportunity, than before, but as ill use was made of it. The king, as I have observed, was in a very good posture; he had three large armies roving at large over the kingdom. The Cornish army, victorious and numerous, had beaten Waller, secured and fortified Exeter, which the queen had made her residence, and was there delivered of a daughter, the Princess Henrietta Maria, afterwards Duchess of Orleans, and mother of the Duchess Dowager of Savoy, commonly known in the French style by the title of Madam Royal. They had secured Salisbury, Sherborne Castle, Weymouth, Winchester, and Basing-house, and commanded the whole country, except Bridgewater and Taunton, Plymouth and Lynn; all which places they held blocked up. The king was also entirely master of all Wales, Monmouthshire, Cheshire, Shropshire, Staffordshire, Worcestershire, Oxfordshire, Berkshire, and all the towns from Windsor up the Thames to Cirencester, except Reading and Henley; and of the whole Severn, except Gloucester.

The Earl of Newcastle had garrisons in every strong place in the north, from Berwick-upon-Tweed to Boston in Lincolnshire, and Newark-upon-Trent, Hull only excepted, whither the Lord Fairfax and his son Sir Thomas were retreated, their troops being routed and broken, Sir Thomas Fairfax his baggage, with his lady and servants taken prisoners, and himself hardly scaping.

And now a great council of war was held in the king’s quarters, what enterprise to go upon; and it happened to be the very same day when the Parliament were in a serious debate what should become of them, and whose help they should seek. And indeed they had cause for it; and had our counsels been as ready and well-grounded as theirs, we had put an end to the war in a month’s time.

In this council the king proposed the marching to London, to put an end to the Parliament and encourage his friends and loyal subjects in Kent, who were ready to rise for him; and showed us letters from the Earl of Newcastle, wherein he offered to join his Majesty with a detachment of 4000 horse, and 8000 foot, if his Majesty thought fit to march southward, and yet leave forces sufficient to guard the north from any invasion. I confess, when I saw the scheme the king had himself drawn for this attempt, I felt an unusual satisfaction in my mind, from the hopes that he might bring this war to some tolerable end; for I professed myself on all occasions heartily weary with fighting with friends, brothers, neighbours, and acquaintance, and I made no question but this motion of the king’s would effectually bring the Parliament to reason.

All men seemed to like the enterprise but the Earl of Worcester, who, on particular views for securing the country behind, as he called it, proposed the taking in the town of Gloucester and Hereford first. He made a long speech of the danger of leaving Massey, an active bold fellow, with a strong party in the heart of all the king’s quarters, ready on all occasions to sally out and surprise the neighbouring garrisons, as he had done Sudley Castle and others; and of the ease and freedom to all those western parts to have them fully cleared of the enemy. Interest presently backs this advice, and all those gentlemen whose estates lay that way, or whose friends lived about Worcester, Shrewsbury, Bridgnorth, or the borders, and who, as they said, had heard the frequent wishes of the country to have the city of Gloucester reduced, fell in with this advice, alleging the consequence it was for the commerce of the country to have the navigation of the Severn free, which was only interrupted by this one town from the sea up to Shrewsbury, &c.

I opposed this, and so did several others. Prince Rupert was vehemently against it; and we both offered, with the troops of the country, to keep Gloucester blocked up during the king’s march for London, so that Massey should not be able to stir.

This proposal made the Earl of Worcester’s party more eager for the siege than before, for they had no mind to a blockade which would leave the country to maintain the troops all the summer; and of all men the prince did not please them, for, he having no extraordinary character for discipline, his company was not much desired even by our friends. Thus, in an ill hour, ’twas resolved to sit down before Gloucester. The king had a gallant army of 28,000 men whereof 11,000 horse, the finest body of gentlemen that ever I saw together in my life; their horses without comparison, and their equipages the finest and the best in the world, and their persons Englishmen, which, I think, is enough to say of them.

According to the resolution taken in the council of war, the army marched westward, and sat down before Gloucester the beginning of August. There we spent a month to the least purpose that ever army did. Our men received frequent affronts from the desperate sallies of an inconsiderable enemy. I cannot forbear reflecting on the misfortunes of this siege. Our men were strangely dispirited in all the assaults they gave upon the place; there was something looked like disaster and mismanagement, and our men went on with an ill will and no resolution. The king despised the place, and thinking to carry it sword in hand, made no regular approaches, and the garrison, being desperate, made therefore the greater slaughter. In this work our horse, who were so numerous and so fine, had no employment. Two thousand horse had been enough for this business, and the enemy had no garrison or party within forty miles of us, so that we had nothing to do but look on with infinite regret upon the losses of our foot.

The enemy made frequent and desperate sallies, in one of which I had my share. I was posted upon a parade, or place of arms, with part of my regiment, and part of Colonel Goring’s regiment of horse, in order to support a body of foot, who were ordered to storm the point of a breastwork which the enemy had raised to defend one of the avenues to the town. The foot were beat off with loss, as they always were; and Massey, the governor, not content to have beaten them from his works, sallies out with near 400 men, and falling in upon the foot as they were rallying under the cover of our horse, we put ourselves in the best posture we could to receive them. As Massey did not expect, I suppose, to engage with any horse, he had no pikes with him, which encouraged us to treat him the more rudely; but as to desperate men danger is no danger, when he found he must clear his hands of us, before he could despatch the foot, he faces up to us, fires but one volley of his small shot, and fell to battering us with the stocks of their muskets in such a manner that one would have thought they had been madmen.

We at first despised this way of clubbing us, and charging through them, laid a great many of them upon the ground, and in repeating our charge, trampled more of them under our horses’ feet; and wheeling thus continually, beat them off from our foot, who were just upon the point of disbanding. Upon this they charged us again with their fire, and at one volley killed thirty-three or thirty-four men and horses; and had they had pikes with them, I know not what we should have done with them. But at last charging through them again, we divided them; one part of them being hemmed in between us and our own foot, were cut in pieces to a man; the rest as I understood afterwards, retreated into the town, having lost 300 of their men.

In this last charge I received a rude blow from a stout fellow on foot with the butt end of his musket which perfectly stunned me, and fetched me off from my horse; and had not some near me took care of me, I had been trod to death by our own men. But the fellow being immediately killed, and my friends finding me alive, had taken me up, and carried me off some distance, where I came to myself again after some time, but knew little of what I did or said that night. This was the reason why I say I afterwards understood the enemy retreated; for I saw no more what they did then, nor indeed was I well of this blow for all the rest of the summer, but had frequent pains in my head, dizzinesses and swimming, that gave me some fears the blow had injured the skull; but it wore off again, nor did it at all hinder my attending my charge.

This action, I think, was the only one that looked like a defeat given the enemy at this siege. We killed them near 300 men, as I have said, and lost about sixty of our troopers.

All this time, while the king was harassing and weakening the best army he ever saw together during the whole war, the Parliament generals, or rather preachers, were recruiting theirs; for the preachers were better than drummers to raise volunteers, zealously exhorting the London dames to part with their husbands, and the city to send some of their trained bands to join the army for the relief of Gloucester; and now they began to advance towards us.

The king hearing of the advance of Essex’s army, who by this time was come to Aylesbury, had summoned what forces he had within call, to join him; and accordingly he received 3000 foot from Somersetshire; and having battered the town for thirty-six hours, and made a fair breach, resolves upon an assault, if possible, to carry the town before the enemy came up. The assault was begun about seven in the evening, and the men boldly mounted the breach; but after a very obstinate and bloody dispute, were beaten out again by the besieged with great loss.

Being thus often repulsed, and the Earl of Essex’s army approaching, the king calls a council of war, and proposed to fight Essex’s army. The officers of the horse were for fighting; and without doubt we were superior to him both in number and goodness of our horse, but the foot were not in an equal condition; and the colonels of foot representing to the king the weakness of their regiments, and how their men had been balked and disheartened at this cursed siege, the graver counsel prevailed, and it was resolved to raise the siege, and retreat towards Bristol, till the army was recruited. Pursuant to this resolution, the 5th of September, the king, having before sent away his heavy cannon and baggage, raised the siege, and marched to Berkeley Castle. The Earl of Essex came the next day to Birdlip Hills; and understanding by messengers from Colonel Massey, that the siege was raised, sends a recruit of 2500 men into the city, and followed us himself with a great body of horse.

This body of horse showed themselves to us once in a large field fit to have entertained them in; and our scouts having assured us they were not above 4000, and had no foot with them, the king ordered a detachment of about the same number to face them. I desired his Majesty to let us have two regiments of dragoons with us, which was then 800 men in a regiment, lest there might be some dragoons among the enemy; which the king granted, and accordingly we marched, and drew up in view of them. They stood their ground, having, as they supposed, some advantage of the manner they were posted in, and expected we would charge them. The king, who did us the honour to command this party, finding they would not stir, calls me to him, and ordered me with the dragoons, and my own regiment, to take a circuit round by a village to a certain lane, where in their retreat they must have passed, and which opened to a small common on the flank; with orders, if they engaged, to advance and charge them in the flank. I marched immediately; but though the country about there was almost all enclosures, yet there scouts were so vigilant, that they discovered me, and gave notice to the body; upon which their whole party moved to the left, as if they intended to charge me, before the king with his body of horse could come. But the king was too vigilant to be circumvented so; and therefore his Majesty perceiving this, sends away three regiments of horse to second me, and a messenger before them, to order me to halt, and expect the enemy, for that he would follow with the whole body.

But before this order reached me, I had halted for some time; for finding myself discovered, and not judging it safe to be entirely cut off from the main body, I stopped at the village, and causing my dragoons to alight, and line a thick hedge on my left, I drew up my horse just at the entrance into the village opening to a common. The enemy came up on the trot to charge me, but were saluted with a terrible fire from the dragoons out of the hedge, which killed them near 100 men. This being a perfect surprise to them, they halted, and just at that moment they received orders from their main body to retreat; the king at the same time appearing upon some heights in their rear, which obliged them to think of retreating, or coming to a general battle, which was none of their design.

I had no occasion to follow them, not being in a condition to attack the whole body; but the dragoons coming out into the common, gave them another volley at a distance, which reached them effectually, for it killed about twenty of them, and wounded more; but they drew off, and never fired a shot at us, fearing to be enclosed between two parties, and so marched away to their general’s quarters, leaving ten or twelve more of their fellows killed, and about 180 horses. Our men, after the country fashion, gave them a shout at parting, to let them see we knew they were afraid of us.

However, this relieving of Gloucester raised the spirits as well as the reputation of the Parliament forces, and was a great defeat to us; and from this time things began to look with a melancholy aspect, for the prosperous condition of the king’s affairs began to decline. The opportunities he had let slip were never to be recovered, and the Parliament, in their former extremity, having voted an invitation to the Scots to march to their assistance, we had now new enemies to encounter; and, indeed, there began the ruin of his Majesty’s affairs, for the Earl of Newcastle, not able to defend himself against the Scots on his rear, the Earl of Manchester in his front, and Sir Thomas Fairfax on his flank, was everywhere routed and defeated, and his forces obliged to quit the field to the enemy.

About this time it was that we first began to hear of one Oliver Cromwell, who, like a little cloud, rose out of the east, and spread first into the north, till it shed down a flood that overwhelmed the three kingdoms.

He first was a private captain of horse, but now commanded a regiment whom he armed _cap-a-pie a la cuirassier_; and, joining with the Earl of Manchester, the first action we heard of him that made him anything famous was about Grantham, where, with only his own regiment, he defeated twenty-four troops of horse and dragoons of the king’s forces; then, at Gainsborough, with two regiments, his own of horse and one of dragoons, where he defeated near 3000 of the Earl of Newcastle’s men, killed Lieutenant-General Cavendish, brother to the Earl of Devonshire, who commanded them, and relieved Gainsborough; and though the whole army came in to the rescue, he made good his retreat to Lincoln with little loss; and the next week he defeated Sir John Henderson at Winceby, near Horncastle, with sixteen regiments of horse and dragoons, himself having not half that number; killed the Lord Widdrington, Sir Ingram Hopton, and several gentlemen of quality. Thus this firebrand of war began to blaze, and he soon grew a terror to the north; for victory attended him like a page of honour, and he was scarce ever known to be beaten during the whole war.

Now we began to reflect again on the misfortune of our master’s counsels. Had we marched to London, instead of besieging Gloucester, we had finished the war with a stroke. The Parliament’s army was in a most despicable condition, and had never been recruited, had we not given them a month’s time, which we lingered away at this fatal town of Gloucester. But ’twas too late to reflect; we were a disheartened army, but we were not beaten yet, nor broken. We had a large country to recruit in, and we lost no time but raised men apace. In the meantime his Majesty, after a short stay at Bristol, makes back again towards Oxford with a part of the foot and all the horse.

At Cirencester we had a brush again with Essex; that town owed us a shrewd turn for having handled them coarsely enough before, when Prince Rupert seized the county magazine. I happened to be in the town that night with Sir Nicholas Crisp, whose regiment of horse quartered there with Colonel Spencer and some foot; my own regiment was gone before to Oxford. About ten at night, a party of Essex’s men beat up our quarters by surprise, just as we had served them before. They fell in with us, just as people were going to bed, and having beaten the out-guards, were gotten into the middle of the town before our men could get on horseback. Sir Nicholas Crisp, hearing the alarm, gets up, and with some of his clothes on, and some off, comes into my chamber. “We are all undone,” says he, “the Roundheads are upon us.” We had but little time to consult, but being in one of the principal inns in the town, we presently ordered the gates of the inn to be shut, and sent to all the inns where our men were quartered to do the like, with orders, if they had any back-doors, or ways to get out, to come to us. By this means, however, we got so much time as to get on horseback, and so many of our men came to us by back ways, that we had near 300 horse in the yards and places behind the house. And now we began to think of breaking out by a lane which led from the back side of the inn, but a new accident determined us another, though a worse way.

The enemy being entered, and our men cooped up in the yards of the inns, Colonel Spencer, the other colonel, whose regiment of horse lay also in the town, had got on horseback before us, and engaged with the enemy, but being overpowered, retreated fighting, and sends to Sir Nicholas Crisp for help. Sir Nicholas, moved to see the distress of his friend, turning to me, says he, “What can we do for him?” I told him I thought ’twas time to help him, if possible; upon which, opening the inn gates, we sallied out in very good order, about 300 horse. And several of the troops from other parts of the town joining us, we recovered Colonel Spencer, and charging home, beat back the enemy to their main body. But finding their foot drawn up in the churchyard, and several detachments moving to charge us, we retreated in as good order as we could. They did not think fit to pursue us, but they took all the carriages which were under the convoy of this party, and laden with provisions and ammunition, and above 500 of our horse, the foot shifted away as well as they could. Thus we made off in a shattered condition towards Farringdon, and so to Oxford, and I was very glad my regiment was not there.

We had small rest at Oxford, or indeed anywhere else; for the king was marched from thence, and we followed him. I was something uneasy at my absence from my regiment, and did not know how the king might resent it, which caused me to ride after them with all expedition. But the armies were engaged that very day at Newbury, and I came in too late. I had not behaved myself so as to be suspected of a wilful shunning the action; but a colonel of a regiment ought to avoid absence from his regiment in time of fight, be the excuse never so just, as carefully as he would a surprise in his quarters. The truth is, ’twas an error of my own, and owing to two day’s stay I made at the Bath, where I met with some ladies who were my relations. And this is far from being an excuse; for if the king had been a Gustavus Adolphus, I had certainly received a check for it.

This fight was very obstinate, and could our horse have come to action as freely as the foot, the Parliament army had suffered much more; for we had here a much better body of horse than they, and we never failed beating them where the weight of the work lay upon the horse.

Here the city train-bands, of which there was two regiments, and whom we used to despise, fought very well. They lost one of their colonels, and several officers in the action; and I heard our men say, they behaved themselves as well as any forces the Parliament had.

The Parliament cried victory here too, as they always did; and indeed where the foot were concerned they had some advantage; but our horse defeated them evidently. The king drew up his army in battalia, in person, and faced them all the next day, inviting them to renew the fight; but they had no stomach to come on again.

It was a kind of a hedge fight, for neither army was drawn out in the field; if it had, ‘twould never have held from six in the morning to ten at night. But they fought for advantages; sometimes one side had the better, sometimes another. They fought twice through the town, in at one end, and out at the other; and in the hedges and lanes, with exceeding fury. The king lost the most men, his foot having suffered for want of the succour of their horse, who on two several occasions could not come at them. But the Parliament foot suffered also, and two regiments were entirely cut in pieces, and the king kept the field.

Essex, the Parliament general, had the pillage of the dead, and left us to bury them; for while we stood all day to our arms, having given them a fair field to fight us in, their camp rabble stripped the dead bodies, and they not daring to venture a second engagement with us, marched away towards London.

The king lost in this action the Earls of Carnarvon and Sunderland, the Lord Falkland, a French marquis and some very gallant officers, and about 1200 men. The Earl of Carnarvon was brought into an inn in Newbury, where the king came to see him. He had just life enough to speak to his Majesty, and died in his presence. The king was exceedingly concerned for him, and was observed to shed tears at the sight of it. We were indeed all of us troubled for the loss of so brave a gentleman, but the concern our royal master discovered, moved us more than ordinary. Everybody endeavoured to have the king out of the room, but he would not stir from the bedside, till he saw all hopes of life was gone.

The indefatigable industry of the king, his servants and friends, continually to supply and recruit his forces, and to harass and fatigue the enemy, was such, that we should still have given a good account of the war had the Scots stood neuter. But bad news came every day out of the north; as for other places, parties were always in action. Sir William Waller and Sir Ralph Hopton beat one another by turns; and Sir Ralph had extended the king’s quarters from Launceston in Cornwall, to Farnham in Surrey, where he gave Sir William Waller a rub, and drove him into the castle. But in the north, the storm grew thick, the Scots advanced to the borders, and entered England in confederacy with the Parliament, against their king; for which the Parliament requited them afterwards as they deserved.

Had it not been for this Scotch army, the Parliament had easily been reduced to terms of peace; but after this they never made any proposals fit for the king to receive. Want of success before had made them differ among themselves. Essex and Waller could never agree; the Earl of Manchester and the Lord Willoughby differed to the highest degree; and the king’s affairs went never the worse for it. But this storm in the north ruined us all; for the Scots prevailed in Yorkshire, and being joined with Fairfax, Manchester, and Cromwell, carried all before them; so that the king was obliged to send Prince Rupert, with a body of 4000 horse, to the assistance of the Earl of Newcastle, where that prince finished the destruction of the king’s interest, by the rashest and unaccountablest action in the world, of which I shall speak in its place.

Another action of the king’s, though in itself no greater a cause of offence than the calling the Scots into the nation, gave great offence in general, and even the king’s own friends disliked it; and was carefully improved by his enemies to the disadvantage of the king, and of his cause.

The rebels in Ireland had, ever since the bloody massacre of the Protestants, maintained a war against the English, and the Earl of Ormond was general and governor for the king. The king, finding his affairs pinch him at home, sends orders to the Earl of Ormond to consent to a cessation of arms with the rebels, and to ship over certain of his regiments hither to his Majesty’s assistance. ‘Tis true, the Irish had deserved to be very ill treated by the English; but while the Parliament pressed the king with a cruel and unnatural war at home, and called in an army out of Scotland to support their quarrel with their king, I could never be convinced, that it was such a dishonourable action for the king to suspend the correction of his Irish rebels till he was in a capacity to do it with safety to himself; or to delay any farther assistance to preserve himself at home; and the troops he recalled being his own, it was no breach of his honour to make use of them, since he now wanted them for his own security against those who fought against him at home.

But the king was persuaded to make one step farther, and that, I confess, was unpleasing to us all; and some of his best and most faithful servants took the freedom to speak plainly to him of it; and that was bringing some regiments of the Irish themselves over. This cast, as we thought, an odium upon our whole nation, being some of those very wretches who had dipped their hands in the innocent blood of the Protestants, and, with unheard-of butcheries, had massacred so many thousands of English in cool blood.

Abundance of gentlemen forsook the king upon this score; and seeing they could not brook the fighting in conjunction with this wicked generation, came into the declaration of the Parliament, and making composition for their estates, lived retired lives all the rest of war, or went abroad.

But as exigences and necessities oblige us to do things which at other times we would not do, and is, as to man, some excuse for such things; so I cannot but think the guilt and dishonour of such an action must lie, very much of it, at least, at their doors, who drove the king to these necessities and distresses, by calling in an army of his own subjects whom he had not injured, but had complied with them in everything, to make war upon him without any provocation.

As to the quarrel between the king and his Parliament, there may something be said on both sides; and the king saw cause himself to disown and dislike some things he had done, which the Parliament objected against, such as levying money without consent of Parliament, infractions on their privileges, and the like. Here, I say, was some room for an argument at least, and concessions on both sides were needful to come to a peace. But for the Scots, all their demands had been answered, all their grievances had been redressed, they had made articles with their sovereign, and he had performed those articles; their capital enemy Episcopacy was abolished; they had not one thing to demand of the king which he had not granted. And therefore they had no more cause to take up arms against their sovereign than they had against the Grand Seignior. But it must for ever lie against them as a brand of infamy, and as a reproach on their whole nation that, purchased by the Parliament’s money, they sold their honesty, and rebelled against their king for hire; and it was not many years before, as I have said already, they were fully paid the wages of their unrighteousness, and chastised for their treachery by the very same people whom they thus basely assisted. Then they would have retrieved it, if it had not been too late.

But I could not but accuse this age of injustice and partiality, who while they reproached the king for his cessation of arms with the Irish rebels, and not prosecuting them with the utmost severity, though he was constrained by the necessities of the war to do it, could yet, at the same time, justify the Scots taking up arms in a quarrel they had no concern in, and against their own king, with whom they had articled and capitulated, and who had so punctually complied with all their demands, that they had no claim upon him, no grievances to be redressed, no oppression to cry out of, nor could ask anything of him which he had not granted.

But as no action in the world is so vile, but the actors can cover with some specious pretence, so the Scots now passing into England publish a declaration to justify their assisting the Parliament. To which I shall only say, in my opinion, it was no justification at all; for admit the Parliament’s quarrel had been never so just, it could not be just in them to aid them, because ’twas against their own king too, to whom they had sworn allegiance, or at least had crowned him, and thereby had recognised his authority. For if maladministration be, according to Prynne’s doctrine, or according to their own Buchanan, a sufficient reason for subjects to take up arms against their prince, the breach of his coronation oath being supposed to dissolve the oath of allegiance, which however I cannot believe; yet this can never be extended to make it lawful, that because a king of England may, by maladministration, discharge the subjects of England from their allegiance, that therefore the subjects of Scotland may take up arms against the King of Scotland, he having not infringed the compact of government as to them, and they having nothing to complain of for themselves. Thus I thought their own arguments were against them, and Heaven seemed to concur with it; for although they did carry the cause for the English rebels, yet the most of them left their bones here in the quarrel.

But what signifies reason to the drum and the trumpet! The Parliament had the supreme argument with those men, viz., the money; and having accordingly advanced a good round sum, upon payment of this (for the Scots would not stir a foot without it) they entered England on the 15th of January 1643[-4], with an army of 12,000 men, under the command of old Leslie, now Earl of Leven, an old soldier of great experience, having been bred to arms from a youth in the service of the Prince of Orange.

The Scots were no sooner entered England but they were joined by all the friends to the Parliament party in the north; and first, Colonel Grey, brother to the Lord Grey, joined them with a regiment of horse, and several out of Westmoreland and Cumberland, and so they advanced to Newcastle, which they summon to surrender. The Earl of Newcastle, who rather saw than was able to prevent this storm, was in Newcastle, and did his best to defend it; but the Scots, increased by this time to above 20,000, lay close siege to the place, which was but meanly fortified, and having repulsed the garrison upon several sallies, and pressing the place very close, after a siege of twelve days, or thereabouts, they enter the town sword in hand. The Earl of Newcastle got away, and afterwards gathered what forces together he could, but [was] not strong enough to hinder the Scots from advancing to Durham, which he quitted to them, nor to hinder the conjunction of the Scots with the forces of Fairfax, Manchester, and Cromwell. Whereupon the earl, seeing all things thus going to wreck, he sends his horse away, and retreats with his foot into York, making all necessary preparations for a vigorous defence there, in case he should be attacked, which he was pretty sure of, as indeed afterwards happened. York was in a very good posture of defence, the fortifications very regular, and exceeding strong; well furnished with provisions, and had now a garrison of 12,000 men in it. The governor under the Earl of Newcastle was Sir Thomas Glemham, a good soldier, and a gentleman brave enough.

The Scots, as I have said, having taken Durham, Tynemouth Castle, and Sunderland, and being joined by Sir Thomas Fairfax, who had taken Selby, resolve, with their united strength, to besiege York; but when they came to view the city, and saw a plan of the works, and had intelligence of the strength of the garrison, they sent expresses to Manchester and Cromwell for help, who came on, and joined them with 9000, making together about 30,000 men, rather more than less.

Now had the Earl of Newcastle’s repeated messengers convinced the king that it was absolutely necessary to send some forces to his assistance, or else all would be lost in the north. Whereupon Prince Rupert was detached, with orders first to go into Lancashire and relieve Lathom House, defended by the brave Countess of Derby, and then, taking all the forces he could collect in Cheshire, Lancashire, and Yorkshire, to march to relieve York.

The prince marched from Oxford with but three regiments of horse and one of dragoons, making in all about 2800 men. The colonels of horse were Colonel Charles Goring, the Lord Byron, and myself; the dragoons were of Colonel Smith. In our march we were joined by a regiment of horse from Banbury, one of dragoons from Bristol, and three regiments of horse from Chester, so that when we came into Lancashire we were about 5000 horse and dragoons. These horse we received from Chester were those who, having been at the siege of Nantwich, were obliged to raise the siege by Sir Thomas Fairfax; and the foot having yielded, the horse made good their retreat to Chester, being about 2000, of whom three regiments now joined us. We received also 2000 foot from West Chester, and 2000 more out of Wales, and with this strength we entered Lancashire. We had not much time to spend, and a great deal of work to do.

Bolton and Liverpool felt the first fury of our prince; at Bolton, indeed, he had some provocation, for here we were like to be beaten off. When first the prince came to the town, he sent a summons to demand the town for the king, but received no answer but from their guns, commanding the messenger to keep off at his peril. They had raised some works about the town, and having by their intelligence learnt that we had no artillery, and were only a flying party (so they called us), they contemned the summons, and showed themselves upon their ramparts, ready for us. The prince was resolved to humble them, if possible, and takes up his quarters close to the town. In the evening he orders me to advance with one regiment of dragoons and my horse, to bring them off, if occasion was, and to post myself as near as possible I could to the lines, yet so as not to be discovered; and at the same time, having concluded what part of the works to fall upon, he draws up his men on two other sides, as if he would storm them there; and, on a signal, I was to begin the real assault on my side with my dragoons.

I had got so near the town with my dragoons, making them creep upon their bellies a great way, that we could hear the soldiers talk on the walls, when the prince, believing one regiment would be too few, sends me word that he had ordered a regiment of foot to help, and that I should not discover myself till they were come up to me. This broke our measures, for the march of this regiment was discovered by the enemy, and they took the alarm. Upon this I sent to the prince, to desire he would put off the storm for that night, and I would answer for it the next day; but the prince was impatient, and sent orders we should fall on as soon as the foot came up to us. The foot marched out of the way, missed us, and fell in with a road that leads to another part of the town; and being not able to find us, make an attack upon the town themselves; but the defendants, being ready for them, received them very warmly, and beat them off with great loss.

I was at a loss now what to do; for hearing the guns, and by the noise knowing it was an assault upon the town, I was very uneasy to have my share in it; but as I had learnt under the King of Sweden punctually to adhere to the execution of orders, and my orders being to lie still till the foot came up with me, I would not stir if I had been sure to have done never so much service; but, however, to satisfy myself, I sent to the prince to let him know that I continued in the same place expecting the foot, and none being yet come, I desired farther orders. The prince was a little amazed at this, and finding there must be some mistake, came galloping away in the dark to the place and drew off the men, which was no hard matter, for they were willing enough to give it over.

As for me, the prince ordered me to come off so privately as not to be discovered, if possible, which I effectually did; and so we were balked for that night. The next day the prince fell on upon another quarter with three regiments of foot, but was beaten off with loss, and the like a third time. At last the prince resolved to carry it, doubled his numbers, and, renewing the attack with fresh men, the foot entered the town over their works, killing in the first heat of the action all that came in their way; some of the foot at the same time letting in the horse, and so the town was entirely won. There was about 600 of the enemy killed, and we lost above 400 in all, which was owing to the foolish mistakes we made. Our men got some plunder here, which the Parliament made a great noise about; but it was their due, and they bought it dear enough.

Liverpool did not cost us so much, nor did we get so much by it, the people having sent their women and children and best goods on board the ships in the road; and as we had no boats to board them with, we could not get at them. Here, as at Bolton, the town and fort was taken by storm, and the garrison were many of them cut in pieces, which, by the way, was their own faults.

Our next step was Lathom House, which the Countess of Derby had gallantly defended above eighteen weeks against the Parliament forces; and this lady not only encouraged her men by her cheerful and noble maintenance of them, but by examples of her own undaunted spirit, exposing herself upon the walls in the midst of the enemy’s shot, would be with her men in the greatest dangers; and she well deserved our care of her person, for the enemy were prepared to use her very rudely if she fell into their hands.

Upon our approach the enemy drew off, and the prince not only effectually relieved this vigorous lady, but left her a good quantity of all sorts of ammunition, three great guns, 500 arms, and 200 men, commanded by a major, as her extraordinary guard.

Here the way being now opened, and our success answering our expectation, several bodies of foot came in to us from Westmoreland and from Cumberland; and here it was that the prince found means to surprise the town of Newcastle-upon-Tyne, which was recovered for the king by the management of the mayor of the town, and some loyal gentlemen of the county, and a garrison placed there again for the king.

But our main design being the relief of York, the prince advanced that way apace, his army still increasing; and being joined by the Lord Goring from Richmondshire with 4000 horse, which were the same the Earl of Newcastle had sent away when he threw himself into York with the infantry, we were now 18,000 effective men, whereof 10,000 horse and dragoons; so the prince, full of hopes, and his men in good heart, boldly marched directly for York.

The Scots, as much surprised at the taking of Newcastle as at the coming of their enemy, began to inquire which way they should get home, if they should be beaten; and calling a council of war, they all agreed to raise the siege. The prince, who drew with him a great train of carriages charged with provision and ammunition for the relief of the city, like a wary general, kept at a distance from the enemy, and fetching a great compass about, brings all safe into the city, and enters into York himself with all his army.

No action of this whole war had gained the prince so much honour, or the king’s affairs so much advantage, as this, had the prince but had the power to have restrained his courage after this, and checked his fatal eagerness for fighting. Here was a siege raised, the reputation of the enemy justly stirred, a city relieved, and furnished with all things necessary in the face of an army superior in a number by near 10,000 men, and commanded by a triumvirate of Generals Leven, Fairfax, and Manchester. Had the prince but remembered the proceeding of the great Duke of Parma at the relief of Paris, he would have seen the relieving the city was his business; ’twas the enemy’s business to fight if possible, ’twas his to avoid it; for, having delivered the city, and put the disgrace of raising the siege upon the enemy, he had nothing further to do but to have waited till he had seen what course the enemy would take, and taken his further measures from their motion.

But the prince, a continual friend to precipitant counsels, would hear no advice. I entreated him not to put it to the hazard; I told him that he ought to consider if he lost the day he lost the kingdom, and took the crown off from the king’s head. I put him in mind that it was impossible those three generals should continue long together; and that if they did, they would not agree long in their counsels, which would be as well for us as their separating. ‘Twas plain Manchester and Cromwell must return to the associated counties, who would not suffer them to stay, for fear the king should attempt them. That he could subsist well enough, having York city and river at his back; but the Scots would eat up the country, make themselves odious, and dwindle away to nothing, if he would but hold them at bay a little. Other general officers were of the same mind; but all I could say, or they either, to a man deaf to anything but his own courage, signified nothing. He would draw out and fight; there was no persuading him to the contrary, unless a man would run the risk of being upbraided with being a coward, and afraid of the work. The enemy’s army lay on a large common, called Marston Moor, doubtful what to do. Some were for fighting the prince, the Scots were against it, being uneasy at having the garrison of Newcastle at their backs; but the prince brought their councils of war to a result, for he let them know they must fight him, whether they would or no; for the prince being, as before, 18,000 men, and the Earl of Newcastle having joined him with 8000 foot out of the city, were marched in quest of the enemy, had entered the moor in view of their army, and began to draw up in order of battle; but the night coming on, the armies only viewed each other at a distance for that time. We lay all night upon our arms, and with the first of the day were in order of battle; the enemy was getting ready, but part of Manchester’s men were not in the field, but lay about three miles off, and made a hasty march to come up.

The prince’s army was exceedingly well managed; he himself commanded the left wing, the Earl of Newcastle the right wing; and the Lord Goring, as general of the foot, assisted by Major-General Porter and Sir Charles Lucas, led the main battle. I had prevailed with the prince, according to the method of the King of Sweden, to place some small bodies of musketeers in the intervals of his horse, in the left wing, but could not prevail upon the Earl of Newcastle to do it in the right, which he afterwards repented. In this posture we stood facing the enemy, expecting they would advance to us, which at last they did; and the prince began the day by saluting them with his artillery, which, being placed very well, galled them terribly for a quarter of an hour. They could not shift their front, so they advanced the hastier to get within our great guns, and consequently out of their danger, which brought the fight the sooner on.

The enemy’s army was thus ordered; Sir Thomas Fairfax had the right wing, in which was the Scots horse, and the horse of his own and his father’s army; Cromwell led the left wing, with his own and the Earl of Manchester’s horse, and the three generals, Leslie, old Fairfax, and Manchester, led the main battle.

The prince, with our left wing, fell on first, and, with his usual fury, broke like a clap of thunder into the right wing of the Scots horse, led by Sir Thomas Fairfax, and, as nothing could stand in his way, he broke through and through them, and entirely routed them, pursuing them quite out of the field. Sir Thomas Fairfax, with a regiment of lances, and about 500 of his own horse, made good the ground for some time; but our musketeers, which, as I said, were such an unlooked-for sort of an article in a fight among the horse, that those lances, which otherwise were brave fellows, were mowed down with their shot, and all was put into confusion. Sir Thomas Fairfax was wounded in the face, his brother killed, and a great slaughter was made of the Scots, to whom I confess we showed no favour at all.

While this was doing on our left, the Lord Goring with the main battle charged the enemy’s foot; and particularly one brigade commanded by Major-General Porter, being mostly pikemen, not regarding the fire of the enemy, charged with that fury in a close body of pikes, that they overturned all that came in their way, and breaking into the middle of the enemy’s foot, filled all with terror and confusion, insomuch that the three generals, thinking all had been lost, fled, and quitted the field.

But matters went not so well with that always unfortunate gentleman the Earl of Newcastle and our right wing of horse; for Cromwell charged the Earl of Newcastle with a powerful body of horse. And though the earl, and those about him, did what men could do, and behaved themselves with all possible gallantry, yet there was no withstanding Cromwell’s horse, but, like Prince Rupert, they bore down all before them. And now the victory was wrung out of our hands by our own gross miscarriage; for the prince, as ’twas his custom, too eager in the chase of the enemy, was gone and could not be heard of. The foot in the centre, the right wing of the horse being routed by Cromwell, was left, and without the guard of his horse; Cromwell having routed the Earl of Newcastle, and beaten him quite out of the field, and Sir Thomas Fairfax rallying his dispersed troops, they fall all together upon the foot. General Lord Goring, like himself, fought like a lion, but, forsaken of his horse, was hemmed in on all sides, and overthrown; and an hour after this, the prince returning, too late to recover his friends, was obliged with the rest to quit the field to conquerors.

This was a fatal day to the king’s affairs, and the risk too much for any man in his wits to run; we lost 4000 men on the spot, 3000 prisoners, among whom was Sir Charles Lucas, Major-General Porter, Major-General Tilyard, and about 170 gentlemen of quality. We lost all our baggage, twenty-five pieces of cannon, 3000 carriages, 150 barrels of powder, 10,000 arms. The prince got into York with the Earl of Newcastle, and a great many gentlemen; and 7000 or 8000 of the men, as well horse as foot.

I had but very coarse treatment in this fight; for returning with the prince from the pursuit of the right wing, and finding all lost, I halted with some other officers, to consider what to do. At first we were for making our retreat in a body, and might have done so well enough, if we had known what had happened, before we saw ourselves in the middle of the enemy; for Sir Thomas Fairfax, who had got together his scattered troops, and joined by some of the left wing, knowing who we were, charged us with great fury. ‘Twas not a time to think of anything but getting away, or dying upon the spot; the prince kept on in the front, and Sir Thomas Fairfax by this charge cut off about three regiments of us from our body; but bending his main strength at the prince, left us, as it were, behind him, in the middle of the field of battle. We took this for the only opportunity we could have to get off, and joining together, we made across the place of battle in as good order as we could, with our carabines presented. In this posture we passed by several bodies of the enemy’s foot, who stood with their pikes charged to keep us off; but they had no occasion, for we had no design to meddle with them, but to get from them.

Thus we made a swift march, and thought ourselves pretty secure; but our work was not done yet, for on a sudden we saw ourselves under a necessity of fighting our way through a great body of Manchester’s horse, who came galloping upon us over the moor. They had, as we suppose, been pursuing some of our broken troops which were fled before, and seeing us, they gave us a home charge. We received them as well as we could, but pushed to get through them, which at last we did with a considerable loss to them. However, we lost so many men, either killed or separated from us (for all could not follow the same way), that of our three regiments we could not be above 400 horse together when we got quite clear, and these were mixed men, some of one troop and regiment, some of another. Not that I believe many of us were killed in the last attack, for we had plainly the better of the enemy, but our design being to get off, some shifted for themselves one way and some another, in the best manner they could, and as their several fortunes guided them. Four hundred more of this body, as I afterwards understood, having broke through the enemy’s body another way, kept together, and got into Pontefract Castle, and 300 more made northward and to Skipton, where the prince afterwards fetched them off.

These few of us that were left together, with whom I was, being now pretty clear of pursuit, halted, and began to inquire who and who we were, and what we should do; and on a short debate, I proposed we should make to the first garrison of the king’s that we could recover, and that we should keep together, lest the country people should insult us upon the roads. With this resolution we pushed on westward for Lancashire, but our misfortunes were not yet at an end. We travelled very hard, and got to a village upon the river Wharfe, near Wetherby. At Wetherby there was a bridge, but we understood that a party from Leeds had secured the town and the post, in order to stop the flying Cavaliers, and that ‘twould be very hard to get through there, though, as we understood afterwards, there were no soldiers there but a guard of the townsmen. In this pickle we consulted what course to take. To stay where we were till morning, we all concluded, would not be safe. Some advised to take the stream with our horses, but the river, which is deep, and the current strong, seemed to bid us have a care what we did of that kind, especially in the night. We resolved therefore to refresh ourselves and our horses, which indeed is more than we did, and go on till we might come to a ford or bridge, where we might get over. Some guides we had, but they either were foolish or false, for after we had rode eight or nine miles, they plunged us into a river at a place they called a ford, but ’twas a very ill one, for most of our horses swam, and seven or eight were lost, but we saved the men. However, we got all over.

We made bold with our first convenience to trespass upon the country for a few horses, where we could find them, to remount our men whose horses were drowned, and continued our march. But being obliged to refresh ourselves at a small village on the edge of Bramham Moor, we found the country alarmed by our taking some horses, and we were no sooner got on horseback in the morning, and entering on the moor, but we understood we were pursued by some troops of horse. There was no remedy but we must pass this moor; and though our horses were exceedingly tired, yet we pressed on upon a round trot, and recovered an enclosed country on the other side, where we halted. And here, necessity putting us upon it, we were obliged to look out for more horses, for several of our men were dismounted, and others’ horses disabled by carrying double, those who lost their horses getting up behind them. But we were supplied by our enemies against their will.

The enemy followed us over the moor, and we having a woody enclosed country about us, where we were, I observed by their moving, they had lost sight of us; upon which I proposed concealing ourselves till we might judge of their numbers. We did so, and lying close in a wood, they passed hastily by us, without skirting or searching the wood, which was what on another occasion they would not have done. I found they were not above 150 horse, and considering, that to let them go before us, would be to alarm the country, and stop our design, I thought, since we might be able to deal with them, we should not meet with a better place for it, and told the rest of our officers my mind, which all our party presently (for we had not time for a long debate) agreed to.

Immediately upon this I caused two men to fire their pistols in the wood, at two different places, as far asunder as I could. This I did to give them an alarm, and amuse them; for being in the lane, they would otherwise have got through before we had been ready, and I resolved to engage them there, as soon as ’twas possible. After this alarm, we rushed out of the wood, with about a hundred horse, and charged them on the flank in a broad lane, the wood being on their right. Our passage into the lane being narrow, gave us some difficulty in our getting out; but the surprise of the charge did our work; for the enemy, thinking we had been a mile or two before, had not the least thoughts of this onset, till they heard us in the wood, and then they who were before could not come back. We broke into the lane just in the middle of them, and by that means divided them; and facing to the left, charged the rear. First our dismounted men, which were near fifty, lined the edge of the wood, and fired with their carabines upon those which were before, so warmly, that they put them into a great disorder. Meanwhile fifty more of our horse from the farther part of the wood showed themselves in the lane upon their front. This put them of the foremost party into a great perplexity, and they began to face about, to fall upon us who were engaged in the rear. But their facing about in a lane where there was no room to wheel, as one who understands the manner of wheeling a troop of horse must imagine, put them into a great disorder. Our party in the head of the lane taking the advantage of this mistake of the enemy, charged in upon them, and routed them entirely.

Some found means to break into the enclosures on the other side of the lane, and get away. About thirty were killed, and about twenty-five made prisoners, and forty very good horses were taken; all this while not a man of ours was lost, and not above seven or eight wounded. Those in the rear behaved themselves better, for they stood our charge with a great deal of resolution, and all we could do could not break them; but at last our men who had fired on foot through the hedges at the other party, coming to do the like here, there was no standing it any longer. The rear of them faced about and retreated out of the lane, and drew up in the open field to receive and rally their fellows. We killed about seventeen of them, and followed them to the end of the lane, but had no mind to have any more fighting than needs must, our condition at that time not making it proper, the towns round us being all in the enemy’s hands, and the country but indifferently pleased with us; however, we stood facing them till they thought fit to march away. Thus we were supplied with horses enough to remount our men, and pursued our first design of getting into Lancashire. As for our prisoners, we let them off on foot.

But the country being by this time alarmed, and the rout of our army everywhere known, we foresaw abundance of difficulties before us; we were not strong enough to venture into any great towns, and we were too many to be concealed in small ones. Upon this we resolved to halt in a great wood about three miles beyond the place where we had the last skirmish, and sent our scouts to discover the country, and learn what they could, either of the enemy or of our friends.

Anybody may suppose we had but indifferent quarters here, either for ourselves or for our horses; but, however, we made shift to lie here two days and one night. In the interim I took upon me, with two more, to go to Leeds to learn some news; we were disguised like country ploughmen; the clothes we got at a farmer’s house, which for that particular occasion we plundered; and I cannot say no blood was shed in a manner too rash, and which I could not have done at another time; but our case was desperate, and the people too surly, and shot at us out of the window, wounded one man and shot a horse, which we counted as great a loss to us as a man, for our safety depended upon our horses. Here we got clothes of all sorts, enough for both sexes, and thus dressing myself up _au paysan,_ with a white cap on my head, and a fork on my shoulder, and one of my comrades in the farmer’s wife’s russet gown and petticoat, like a woman, the other with an old crutch like a lame man, and all mounted on such horses as we had taken the day before from the country, away we go to Leeds by three several ways, and agreed to meet upon the bridge. My pretended country woman acted her part to the life, though the party was a gentleman of good quality, of the Earl of Worcester’s family; and the cripple did as well as he; but I thought myself very awkward in my dress, which made me very shy, especially among the soldiers. We passed their sentinels and guards at Leeds unobserved, and put up our horses at several houses in the town, from whence we went up and down to make our remarks. My cripple was the fittest to go among the soldiers, because there was less danger of being pressed. There he informed himself of the matters of war, particularly that the enemy sat down again to the siege of York; that flying parties were in pursuit of the Cavaliers; and there he heard that 500 horse of the Lord Manchester’s men had followed a party of Cavaliers over Bramham Moor, and that entering a lane, the Cavaliers, who were 1000 strong, fell upon them, and killed them all but about fifty. This, though it was a lie, was very pleasant to us to hear, knowing it was our party, because of the other part of the story, which was thus: That the Cavaliers had taken possession of such a wood, where they rallied all the troops of their flying army; that they had plundered the country as they came, taking all the horses they could get; that they had plundered Goodman Thomson’s house, which was the farmer I mentioned, and killed man, woman, and child; and that they were about 2000 strong.

My other friend in woman’s clothes got among the good wives at an inn, where she set up her horse, and there she heard the same sad and dreadful tidings; and that this party was so strong, none of the neighbouring garrisons durst stir out; but that they had sent expresses to York, for a party of horse to come to their assistance.

I walked up and down the town, but fancied myself so ill disguised, and so easy to be known, that I cared not to talk with anybody. We met at the bridge exactly at our time, and compared our intelligence, found it answered our end of coming, and that we had nothing to do but to get back to our men; but my cripple told me, he would not stir till he bought some victuals: so away he hops with his crutch, and buys four or five great pieces of bacon, as many of hung beef, and two or three loaves; and borrowing a sack at the inn (which I suppose he never restored), he loads his horse, and getting a large leather bottle, he filled that of aqua-vitae instead of small beer; my woman comrade did the like. I was uneasy in my mind, and took no care but to get out of the town; however, we all came off well enough; but ’twas well for me that I had no provisions with me, as you will hear presently.

We came, as I said, into the town by several ways, and so we went out; but about three miles from the town we met again exactly where we had agreed. I being about a quarter of a mile from the rest, I meets three country fellows on horseback; one had a long pole on his shoulder, another a fork, the third no weapon at all, that I saw. I gave them the road very orderly, being habited like one of their brethren; but one of them stopping short at me, and looking earnestly calls out, “Hark thee, friend,” says he, in a broad north-country tone, “whar hast thou thilk horse?” I must confess I was in the utmost confusion at the question, neither being able to answer the question, nor to speak in his tone; so I made as if I did not hear him, and went on. “Na, but ye’s not gang soa,” says the boor, and comes up to me, and takes hold of the horse’s bridle to stop me; at which, vexed at heart that I could not tell how to talk to him, I reached him a great knock on the pate with my fork, and fetched him off of his horse, and then began to mend my pace. The other clowns, though it seems they knew not what the fellow wanted, pursued me, and finding they had better heels than I, I saw there was no remedy but to make use of my hands, and faced about.

The first that came up with me was he that had no weapons, so I thought I might parley with him, and speaking as country-like as I could, I asked him what he wanted? “Thou’st knaw that soon,” says Yorkshire, “and ise but come at thee.” “Then keep awa’, man,” said I, “or ise brain thee.” By this time the third man came up, and the parley ended; for he gave me no words, but laid at me with his long pole, and that with such fury, that I began to be doubtful of him. I was loth to shoot the fellow, though I had pistols under my grey frock, as well for that the noise of a pistol might bring more people in, the village being on our rear, and also because I could not imagine what the fellow meant, or would have. But at last, finding he would be too many for me with that long weapon, and a hardy strong fellow, I threw myself off my horse, and running in with him, stabbed my fork into his horse. The horse being wounded, staggered awhile, and then fell down, and the booby had not the sense to get down in time, but fell with him. Upon which, giving him a knock or two with my fork, I secured him. The other, by this time, had furnished himself with a great stick out of a hedge, and before I was disengaged from the last fellow, gave me two such blows, that if the last had not missed my head and hit me on the shoulder, I had ended the fight and my life together. ‘Twas time to look about me now, for this was a madman. I defended myself with my fork, but ‘twould not do. At last, in short, I was forced to pistol him and get on horseback again, and with all the speed I could make, get away to the wood to our men.

If my two fellow-spies had not been behind, I had never known what was the meaning of this quarrel of the three countrymen, but my cripple had all the particulars. For he being behind us, as I have already observed, when he came up to the first fellow who began the fray, he found him beginning to come to himself. So he gets off, and pretends to help him, and sets him up upon his breech, and being a very merry fellow, talked to him: “Well, and what’s the matter now?” says he to him. “Ah, wae’s me,” says the fellow, “I is killed.” “Not quite, mon,” says the cripple. “Oh, that’s a fau thief,” says he, and thus they parleyed. My cripple got him on’s feet, and gave him a dram of his aqua-vitae bottle, and made much of him, in order to know what was the occasion of the quarrel. Our disguised woman pitied the fellow too, and together they set him up again upon his horse, and then he told him that that fellow was got upon one of his brother’s horses who lived at Wetherby. They said the Cavaliers stole him, but ’twas like such rogues. No mischief could be done in the country, but ’twas the poor Cavaliers must bear the blame, and the like, and thus they jogged on till they came to the place where the other two lay. The first fellow they assisted as they had done t’other, and gave him a dram out of the leather bottle, but the last fellow was past their care, so they came away. For when they understood that ’twas my horse they claimed, they began to be afraid that their own horses might be known too, and then they had been betrayed in a worse pickle than I, and must have been forced to have done some mischief or other to have got away.

I had sent out two troopers to fetch them off, if there was any occasion; but their stay was not long and the two troopers saw them at a distance coming towards us, so they returned.

I had enough of going for a spy, and my companions had enough of staying in the wood for other intelligences agreed with ours, and all concurred in this, that it was time to be going; however, this use we made of it, that while the country thought us so strong we were in the less danger of being attacked, though in the more of being observed; but all this while we heard nothing of our friends till the next day. We heard Prince Rupert, with about 1000 horse, was at Skipton, and from thence marched away to Westmoreland.

We concluded now we had two or three days’ time good; for, since messengers were sent to York for a party to suppress us, we must have at least two days’ march of them, and therefore all concluded we were to make the best of our way. Early in the morning, therefore, we decamped from those dull quarters; and as we marched through a village we found the people very civil to us, and the women cried out, “God bless them, ’tis pity the Roundheads should make such work with such brave men,” and the like. Finding we were among our friends, we resolved to halt a little and refresh ourselves; and, indeed, the people were very kind to us, gave us victuals and drink, and took care of our horses. It happened to be my lot to stop at a house where the good woman took a great deal of pains to provide for us; but I observed the good man walked about with a cap upon his head, and very much out of order. I took no great notice of it, being very sleepy, and having asked my landlady to let me have a bed, I lay down and slept heartily. When I waked I found my landlord on another bed groaning very heavily.

When I came downstairs, I found my cripple talking with my landlady; he was now out of his disguise, but we called him cripple still; and the other, who put on the woman’s clothes, we called Goody Thompson. As soon as he saw me, he called me out, “Do you know,” says he, “the man of the house you are quartered in?” “No, not I,” says I. “No; so I believe, nor they you,” says he; “if they did, the good wife would not have made you a posset, and fetched a white loaf for you.” “What do you mean?” says I. “Have you seen the man?” says he. “Seen him,” says I; “yes, and heard him too; the man’s sick, and groans so heavily,” says I, “that I could not he upon the bed any longer for him.” “Why, this is the poor man,” says he, “that you knocked down with your fork yesterday, and I have had all the story out yonder at the next door.” I confess it grieved me to have been forced to treat one so roughly who was one of our friends, but to make some amends, we contrived to give the poor man his brother’s horse; and my cripple told him a formal story, that he believed the horse was taken away from the fellow by some of our men, and if he knew him again, if ’twas his friend’s horse, he should have him. The man came down upon the news, and I caused six or seven horses, which were taken at the same time, to be shown him; he immediately chose the right; so I gave him the horse, and we pretended a great deal of sorrow for the man’s hurt, and that we had not knocked the fellow on the head as well as took away the horse. The man was so overjoyed at the revenge he thought was taken on the fellow, that we heard him groan no more.

We ventured to stay all day at this town and the next night, and got guides to lead us to Blackstone Edge, a ridge of mountains which part this side of Yorkshire from Lancashire. Early in the morning we marched, and kept our scouts very carefully out every way, who brought us no news for this day. We kept on all night, and made our horses do penance for that little rest they had, and the next morning we passed the hills and got into Lancashire, to a town called Littlebrough, and from thence to Rochdale, a little market town. And now we thought ourselves safe as to the pursuit of enemies from the side of York. Our design was to get to Bolton, but all the county was full of the enemy in flying parties, and how to get to Bolton we knew not. At last we resolved to send a messenger to Bolton; but he came back and told us he had with lurking and hiding tried all the ways that he thought possible, but to no purpose, for he could not get into the town. We sent another, and he never returned, and some time after we understood he was taken by the enemy. At last one got into the town, but brought us word they were tired out with constant alarms, had been strictly blocked up, and every day expected a siege, and therefore advised us either to go northward where Prince Rupert and the Lord Goring ranged at liberty, or to get over Warrington Bridge, and so secure our retreat to Chester.

This double direction divided our opinions. I was for getting into Chester, both to recruit myself with horses and with money, both which I wanted, and to get refreshment, which we all wanted; but the major part of our men were for the north. First they said there was their general, and ’twas their duty to the cause, and the king’s interest obliged us to go where we could do best service; and there was their friends, and every man might hear some news of his own regiment, for we belonged to several regiments. Besides, all the towns to the left of us were possessed by Sir William Brereton, Warrington, and Northwich, garrisoned by the enemy, and a strong party at Manchester, so that ’twas very likely we should be beaten and dispersed before we could get to Chester. These reasons, and especially the last, determined us for the north, and we had resolved to march the next morning, when other intelligence brought us to more speedy resolutions. We kept our scouts continually abroad to bring us intelligence of the enemy, whom we expected on our backs, and also to keep an eye upon the country; for, as we lived upon them something at large, they were ready enough to do us any ill turn, as it lay in their power.

The first messenger that came to us was from our friends at Bolton, to inform us that they were preparing at Manchester to attack us. One of our parties had been as far as Stockport, on the edge of Cheshire, and was pursued by a party of the enemy, but got off by the help of the night. Thus, all things looked black to the south, we had resolved to march northward in the morning, when one of our scouts from the side of Manchester, assured us Sir Thomas Middleton, with some of the Parliament forces and the country troops, making above 1200 men, were on the march to attack us, and would certainly beat up our quarters that night. Upon this advice we resolved to be gone; and, getting all things in readiness, we began to march about two hours before night. And having gotten a trusty fellow for a guide, a fellow that we found was a friend to our side, he put a project into my head which saved us all for that time; and that was, to give out in the village that we were marched to Yorkshire, resolving to get into Pontefract Castle; and accordingly he leads us out of the town the same way we came in, and, taking a boy with him, he sends the boy back just at night, and bade him say he saw us go up the hills at Blackstone Edge; and it happened very well, for this party were so sure of us, that they had placed 400 men on the road to the northward to intercept our retreat that way, and had left no way for us, as they thought, to get away but back again.

About ten o’clock at night, they assaulted our quarters, but found we were gone; and being informed which way, they followed upon the spur, and travelling all night, being moonlight, they found themselves the next day about fifteen miles east, just out of their way. For we had, by the help of our guide, turned short at the foot of the hills, and through blind, untrodden paths, and with difficulty enough, by noon the next day had reached almost twenty-five miles north, near a town called Clitheroe. Here we halted in the open field, and sent out our people to see how things were in the country. This part of the country, almost unpassable, and walled round with hills, was indifferent quiet, and we got some refreshment for ourselves, but very little horse-meat, and so went on. But we had not marched far before we found ourselves discovered, and the 400 horse sent to lie in wait for us as before, having understood which way we went, followed us hard; and by letters to some of their friends at Preston, we found we were beset again.

Our guide began now to be out of his knowledge, and our scouts brought us word, the enemy’s horse was posted before us, and we knew they were in our rear. In this exigence, we resolved to divide our small body, and so amusing them, at least one might get off, if the other miscarried. I took about eighty horse with me, among which were all that I had of our own regiment, amounting to above thirty-two, and took the hills towards Yorkshire. Here we met with such unpassable hills, vast moors, rocks, and stonyways, as lamed all our horses and tired our men; and some times I was ready to think we should never be able to get over them, till our horses failing, and jackboots being but indifferent things to travel in, we might be starved before we should find any road, or towns; for guide we had none, but a boy who knew but little, and would cry when we asked him any questions. I believe neither men nor horses ever passed in some places where we went, and for twenty hours we saw not a town nor a house, excepting sometimes from the top of the mountains, at a vast distance. I am persuaded we might have encamped here, if we had had provisions, till the war had been over, and have met with no disturbance; and I have often wondered since, how we got into such horrible places, as much as how we got out. That which was worse to us than all the rest, was, that we knew not where we were going, nor what part of the country we should come into, when we came out of those desolate crags. At last, after a terrible fatigue, we began to see the western parts of Yorkshire, some few villages, and the country at a distance looked a little like England, for I thought before it looked like old Brennus Hill, which the Grisons call “the grandfather of the Alps.” We got some relief in the villages, which indeed some of us had so much need of, that they were hardly able to sit their horses, and others were forced to help them off, they were so faint. I never felt so much of the power of hunger in my life, for having not eaten in thirty hours, I was as ravenous as a hound; and if I had had a piece of horse-flesh, I believe I should not have had patience to have staid dressing it, but have fallen upon it raw, and have eaten it as greedily as a Tartar. However I ate very cautiously, having often seen the danger of men’s eating heartily after long fasting.

Our next care was to inquire our way. Halifax, they told us, was on our right. There we durst not think of going. Skipton was before us, and there we knew not how it was, for a body of 3000 horse, sent out by the enemy in pursuit of Prince Rupert, had been there but two days before, and the country people could not tell us whether they were gone, or no. And Manchester’s horse, which were sent out after our party, were then at Halifax, in quest of us, and afterwards marched into Cheshire. In this distress we would have hired a guide, but none of the country people would go with us, for the Roundheads would hang them, they said, when they came there. Upon this I called a fellow to me, “Hark ye, friend,” says I, “dost thee know the way so as to bring us into Westmoreland, and not keep the great road from York?” “Ay, merry,” says he, “I ken the ways weel enou!” “And you would go and guide us,” said I, “but that you are afraid the Roundheads will hang you?” “Indeed would I,” says the fellow. “Why then,” says I, “thou hadst as good be hanged by a Cavalier as a Roundhead, for if thou wilt not go, I’ll hang thee just now.” “Na, and ye serve me soa,” says the fellow, “Ise ene gang with ye, for I care not for hanging; and ye’ll get me a good horse, Ise gang and be one of ye, for I’ll nere come heame more.” This pleased us still better, and we mounted the fellow, for three of our men died that night with the extreme fatigue of the last service.

Next morning, when our new trooper was mounted and clothed we hardly knew him; and this fellow led us by such ways, such wildernesses, and yet with such prudence, keeping the hills to the left, that we might have the villages to refresh ourselves, that without him, we had certainly either perished in those mountains, or fallen into the enemy’s hands. We passed the great road from York so critically as to time, that from one of the hills he showed us a party of the enemy’s horse who were then marching into Westmoreland. We lay still that day, finding we were not discovered by them; and our guide proved the best scout that we could have had; for he would go out ten miles at a time, and bring us in all the news of the country. Here he brought us word, that York was surrendered upon articles, and that Newcastle, which had been surprised by the king’s party, was besieged by another army of Scots advanced to help their brethren.

Along the edges of those vast mountains we passed with the help of our guide, till we came into the forest of Swale; and finding ourselves perfectly concealed here, for no soldier had ever been here all the war, nor perhaps would not, if it had lasted seven years, we thought we wanted a few days’ rest, at least for our horses. So we resolved to halt; and while we did so, we made some disguises, and sent out some spies into the country; but as here were no great towns, nor no post road, we got very little intelligence. We rested four days, and then marched again; and indeed having no great stock of money about us, and not very free of that we had, four days was enough for those poor places to be able to maintain us.

We thought ourselves pretty secure now; but our chief care was how to get over those terrible mountains; for having passed the great road that leads from York to Lancaster, the crags, the farther northward we looked, looked still the worse, and our business was all on the other side. Our guide told us, he would bring us out, if we would have patience, which we were obliged to, and kept on this slow march, till he brought us to Stanhope, in the country of Durham; where some of Goring’s horse, and two regiments of foot, had their quarters. This was nineteen days from the battle of Marston Moor. The prince, who was then at Kendal in Westmoreland, and who had given me over as lost, when he had news of our arrival, sent an express to me, to meet him at Appleby. I went thither accordingly, and gave him an account of our journey, and there I heard the short history of the other part of our men, whom we parted from in Lancashire. They made the best of their way north; they had two resolute gentlemen who commanded; and being so closely pursued by the enemy, that they found themselves under a necessity of fighting, they halted, and faced about, expecting the charge. The boldness of the action made the officer who led the enemy’s horse (which it seems were the county horse only) afraid of them; which they perceiving, taking the advantage of his fears, bravely advance, and charge them; and though they were above 200 horse, they routed them, killed about thirty or forty, got some horses, and some money, and pushed on their march night and day; but coming near Lancaster, they were so waylaid and pursued, that they agreed to separate, and shift every man for himself. Many of them fell into the enemy’s hands; some were killed attempting to pass through the river Lune; some went back, six or seven got to Bolton, and about eighteen got safe to Prince Rupert.

The prince was in a better condition hereabouts than I expected; he and my Lord Goring, with the help of Sir Marmaduke Langdale, and the gentlemen of Cumberland, had gotten a body of 4000 horse, and about 6000 foot; they had retaken Newcastle, Tynemouth, Durham, Stockton, and several towns of consequence from the Scots, and might have cut them out work enough still, if that base people, resolved to engage their whole interest to ruin their sovereign, had not sent a second army of 10,000 men, under the Earl of Callander, to help their first. These came and laid siege to Newcastle, but found more vigorous resistance now than they had done before.

There were in the town Sir John Morley, the Lord Crawford, Lord Reay, and Maxwell, Scots; and old soldiers, who were resolved their countrymen should buy the town very dear, if they had it; and had it not been for our disaster at Marston Moor, they had never had it; for Callander, finding he was not able to carry the town, sends to General Leven to come from the siege of York to help him.

Meantime the prince forms a very good army, and the Lord Goring, with 10,000 men, shows himself on the borders of Scotland, to try if that might not cause the Scots to recall their forces; and, I am persuaded, had he entered Scotland, the Parliament of Scotland had recalled the Earl of Callander, for they had but 5000 men left in arms to send against him; but they were loth to venture. However, this effect it had, that it called the Scots northward again, and found them work there for the rest of the summer to reduce the several towns in the bishopric of Durham.

I found with the prince the poor remains of my regiment, which, when joined with those that had been with me, could not all make up three troops, and but two captains, three lieutenants, and one cornet; the rest were dispersed, killed, or taken prisoners. However, with those, which we still called a regiment, I joined the prince, and after having done all we could on that side, the Scots being returned from York, the prince returned through Lancashire to Chester.

The enemy often appeared and alarmed us, and once fell on one of our parties, and killed us about a hundred men; but we were too many for them to pretend to fight us, so we came to Bolton, beat the troops of the enemy near Warrington, where I got a cut with a halberd in my face, and arrived at Chester the beginning of August.

The Parliament, upon their great success in the north, thinking the king’s forces quite unbroken, had sent their General Essex into the west, where the king’s army was commanded by Prince Maurice, Prince Rupert’s elder brother, but not very strong; and the king being, as they supposed, by the absence of Prince Rupert, weakened so much as that he might be checked by Sir William Waller, who, with 4500 foot, and 1500 horse, was at that time about Winchester, having lately beaten Sir Ralph Hopton;–upon all these considerations, the Earl of Essex marches westward.

The forces in the west being too weak to oppose him, everything gave way to him, and all people expected he would besiege Exeter, where the queen was newly lying-in, and sent a trumpet to desire he would forbear the city, while she could be removed, which he did, and passed on westward, took Tiverton, Bideford, Barnstaple, Launceston, relieved Plymouth, drove Sir Richard Grenvile up into Cornwall, and followed him thither, but left Prince Maurice behind him with 4000 men about Barnstaple and Exeter. The king, in the meantime, marches from Oxford into Worcester, with Waller at his heels. At Edgehill his Majesty turns upon Waller, and gave him a brush, to put him in mind of the place. The king goes on to Worcester, sends 300 horse to relieve Durley Castle, besieged by the Earl of Denby, and sending part of his forces to Bristol, returns to Oxford.

His Majesty had now firmly resolved to march into the west, not having yet any account of our misfortunes in the north. Waller and Middleton waylay the king at Cropredy Bridge. The king assaults Middleton at the bridge.

Waller’s men were posted with some cannon to guard a pass. Middleton’s men put a regiment of the king’s foot to the rout, and pursued them. Waller’s men, willing to come in for the plunder, a thing their general had often used them to, quit their post at the pass, and their great guns, to have part in the victory. The king coming in seasonably to the relief of his men, routs Middleton, and at the same time sends a party round, who clapped in between Sir William Waller’s men and their great guns, and secured the pass and the cannon too. The king took three colonels, besides other officers, and about 300 men prisoners, with eight great guns, nineteen carriages of ammunition, and killed about 200 men.

Waller lost his reputation in this fight, and was exceedingly slighted ever after, even by his own party; but especially by such as were of General Essex’s party, between whom and Waller there had been jealousies and misunderstandings for some time.

The king, about 8000 strong, marched on to Bristol, where Sir William Hopton joined him, and from thence he follows Essex into Cornwall. Essex still following Grenvile, the king comes to Exeter, and joining with Prince Maurice, resolves to pursue Essex; and now the Earl of Essex began to see his mistake, being cooped up between two seas, the king’s army in his rear, the country his enemy, and Sir Richard Grenvile in his van.

The king, who always took the best measures when he was left to his own counsel, wisely refuses to engage, though superior in number, and much stronger in horse. Essex often drew out to fight, but the king fortifies, takes the passes and bridges, plants cannon, and secures the country to keep off provisions, and continually straitens their quarters, but would not fight.

Now Essex sends away to the Parliament for help, and they write to Waller, and Middleton, and Manchester to follow, and come up with the king in his rear; but some were too far off, and could not, as Manchester and Fairfax; others made no haste, as having no mind to it, as Waller and Middleton, and if they had, it had been too late.

At last the Earl of Essex, finding nothing to be done, and unwilling to fall into the king’s hands, takes shipping, and leaves his army to shift for themselves. The horse, under Sir William Balfour, the best horse officer, and, without comparison, the bravest in all the Parliament army, advanced in small parties, as if to skirmish, but following in with the whole body, being 3500 horse, broke through, and got off. Though this was a loss to the king’s victory, yet the foot were now in a condition so much the worse. Brave old Skippon proposed to fight through with the foot and die, as he called it, like Englishmen, with sword in hand; but the rest of the officers shook their heads at it, for, being well paid, they had at present no occasion for dying.

Seeing it thus, they agreed to treat, and the king grants them conditions, upon laying down their arms, to march off free. This was too much. Had his Majesty but obliged them upon oath not to serve again for a certain time, he had done his business; but this was not thought of; so they passed free, only disarmed, the soldiers not being allowed so much as their swords.

The king gained by this treaty forty pieces of cannon, all of brass, 300 barrels of gunpowder, 9000 arms, 8000 swords, match and bullet in proportion, 200 waggons, 150 colours and standards, all the bag and baggage of the army, and about 1000 of the men listed in his army. This was a complete victory without bloodshed; and had the king but secured the men from serving but for six months, it had most effectually answered the battle of Marston Moor.

As it was, it infused new life into all his Majesty’s forces and friends, and retrieved his affairs very much; but especially it encouraged us in the north, who were more sensible of the blow received at Marston Moor, and of the destruction the Scots were bringing upon us all.

While I was at Chester, we had some small skirmishes with Sir William Brereton. One morning in particular Sir William drew up, and faced us, and one of our colonels of horse observing the enemy to be not, as he thought, above 200, desires leave of Prince Rupert to attack them with the like number, and accordingly he sallied out with 200 horse. I stood drawn up without the city with 800 more, ready to bring him off, if he should be put to the worst, which happened accordingly; for, not having discovered neither the country nor the enemy as he ought, Sir William Brereton drew him into an ambuscade; so that before he came up with Sir William’s forces, near enough to charge, he finds about 300 horse in his rear. Though he was surprised at this, yet, being a man of a ready courage, he boldly faces about with 150 of his men, leaving the other fifty to face Sir William. With this small party, he desperately charges the 300 horse in his rear, and putting them into disorder, breaks through them, and, had there been no greater force, he had cut them all in pieces. Flushed with this success, and loth to desert the fifty men he had left behind, he faces about again, and charges through them again, and with these two charges entirely routs them. Sir William Brereton finding himself a little disappointed, advances, and falls upon the fifty men just as the colonel came up to them; they fought him with a great deal of bravery, but the colonel being unfortunately killed in the first charge, the men gave way, and came flying all in confusion, with the enemy at their heels. As soon as I saw this, I advanced, according to my orders, and the enemy, as soon as I appeared, gave over the pursuit. This gentleman, as I remember, was Colonel Marrow; we fetched off his body, and retreated into Chester.

The next morning the prince drew out of the city with about 1200 horse and 2000 foot, and attacked Sir William Brereton in his quarters. The fight was very sharp for the time, and near 700 men, on both sides, were killed; but Sir William would not put it to a general engagement, so the prince drew off, contenting himself to have insulted him in his quarters.

We now had received orders from the king to join him; but I representing to the prince the condition of my regiment, which was now 100 men, and that, being within twenty-five miles of my father’s house, I might soon recruit it, my father having got some men together already, I desired leave to lie at Shrewsbury for a month, to make up my men. Accordingly, having obtained his leave, I marched to Wrexham, where in two days’ time I got twenty men, and so on to Shrewsbury. I had not been here above ten days, but I received an express to come away with what recruits I had got together, Prince Rupert having positive orders to meet the king by a certain day. I had not mounted 100 men, though I had listed above 200, when these orders came; but leaving my father to complete them for me, I marched with those I had and came to Oxford.

The king, after the rout of the Parliament forces in the west, was marched back, took Barnstaple, Plympton, Launceston, Tiverton, and several other places, and left Plymouth besieged by Sir Richard Grenvile, met with Sir William Waller at Shaftesbury, and again at Andover, and boxed him at both places, and marched for Newbury. Here the king sent for Prince Rupert to meet him, who with 3000 horse made long marches to join him; but the Parliament having joined their three armies together, Manchester from the north, Waller and Essex (the men being clothed and armed) from the west, had attacked the king and obliged him to fight the day before the prince came up.

The king had so posted himself, as that he could not be obliged to fight but with advantage, the Parliament’s forces being superior in number, and therefore, when they attacked him, he galled them with his cannon, and declining to come to a general battle, stood upon the defensive, expecting Prince Rupert with the horse.

The Parliament’s forces had some advantage over our foot, and took the Earl of Cleveland prisoner. But the king, whose foot were not above one to two, drew his men under the cannon of Donnington Castle, and having secured his artillery and baggage, made a retreat with his foot in very good order, having not lost in all the fight above 300 men, and the Parliament as many. We lost five pieces of cannon and took two, having repulsed the Earl of Manchester’s men on the north side of the town, with considerable loss.

The king having lodged his train of artillery and baggage in Donnington Castle, marched the next day for Oxford. There we joined him with 3000 horse and 2000 foot. Encouraged with this reinforcement, the king appears upon the hills on the north-west of Newbury, and faces the Parliament army. The Parliament having too many generals as well as soldiers, they could not agree whether they should fight or no. This was no great token of the victory they boasted of, for they were now twice our number in the whole, and their foot three for one. The king stood in battalia all day, and finding the Parliament forces had no stomach to engage him, he drew away his cannon and baggage out of Donnington Castle in view of their whole army, and marched away to Oxford.

This was such a false step of the Parliament’s generals, that all the people cried shame of them. The Parliament appointed a committee to inquire into it. Cromwell accused Manchester, and he Waller, and so they laid the fault upon one another. Waller would have been glad to have charged it upon Essex, but as it happened he was not in the army, having been taken ill some days before. But as it generally is when a mistake is made, the actors fall out among themselves, so it was here. No doubt it was as false a step as that of Cornwall, to let the king fetch away his baggage and cannon in the face of three armies, and never fire a shot at them.

The king had not above 8000 foot in his army, and they above 25,000. Tis true the king had 8000 horse, a fine body, and much superior to theirs; but the foot might, with the greatest ease in the world, have prevented the removing the cannon, and in three days’ time have taken the castle, with all that was in it.

Those differences produced their self-denying ordinance, and the putting by most of their old generals, as Essex, Waller, Manchester, and the like; and Sir Thomas Fairfax, a terrible man in the field, though the mildest of men out of it, was voted to have the command of all their forces, and Lambert to take the command of Sir Thomas Fairfax’s troops in the north, old Skippon being Major-General.

This winter was spent on the enemy’s side in modelling, as they called it, their army, and on our side in recruiting ours, and some petty excursions. Amongst the many addresses I observed one from Sussex or Surrey, complaining of the rudeness of their soldiers, from which I only observed that there were disorders among them as well as among us, only with this difference, that they, for reasons I mentioned before, were under circumstances to prevent it better than the king. But I must do the king’s memory that justice, that he used all possible methods, by punishment of soldiers, charging, and sometimes entreating, the gentlemen not to suffer such disorders and such violences in their men; but it was to no purpose for his Majesty to attempt it, while his officers, generals, and great men winked at it; for the licentiousness of the soldier is supposed to be approved by the officer when it is not corrected.

The rudeness of the Parliament soldiers began from the divisions among their officers; for in many places the soldiers grew so out of all discipline and so unsufferably rude, that they, in particular, refused to march when Sir William Waller went to Weymouth. This had turned to good account for us, had these cursed Scots been out of our way, but they were the staff of the party; and now they were daily solicited to march southward, which was a very great affliction to the king and all his friends.

One booty the king got at this time, which was a very seasonable assistance to his affairs, viz., a great merchant ship, richly laden at London, and bound to the East Indies, was, by the seamen, brought into Bristol, and delivered up to the king. Some merchants in Bristol offered the king L40,000 for her, which his Majesty ordered should be accepted, reserving only thirty great guns for his own use.

The treaty at Uxbridge now was begun, and we that had been well beaten in the war heartily wished the king would come to a peace; but we all foresaw the clergy would ruin it all. The Commons were for Presbytery, and would never agree the bishops should be restored. The king was willinger to comply with anything than this, and we foresaw it would be so; from whence we used to say among ourselves, “That the clergy was resolved if there should be no bishop there should be no king.”

This treaty at Uxbridge was a perfect war between the men of the gown, ours was between those of the sword; and I cannot but take notice how the lawyers, statesmen, and the clergy of every side bestirred themselves, rather to hinder than promote the peace.

There had been a treaty at Oxford some time before, where the Parliament insisting that the king should pass a bill to abolish Episcopacy, quit the militia, abandon several of his faithful servants to be exempted from pardon, and making several other most extravagant demands, nothing was done, but the treaty broke off, both parties being rather farther exasperated, than inclined to hearken to conditions.

However, soon after the success in the west, his Majesty, to let them see that victory had not puffed him up so as to make him reject the peace, sends a message to the Parliament, to put them in mind of messages of like nature which they had slighted; and to let them know, that notwithstanding he had beaten their forces, he was yet willing to hearken to a reasonable proposal for putting an end to the war.

The Parliament pretended the king, in his message, did not treat with them as a legal Parliament, and so made hesitations; but after long debates and delays they agreed to draw up propositions for peace to be sent to the king. As this message was sent to the Houses about August, I think they made it the middle of November before they brought the propositions for peace; and, when they brought them, they had no power to enter either upon a treaty, or so much as preliminaries for a treaty, only to deliver the letter, and receive an answer.

However, such were the circumstances of affairs at this time, that the king was uneasy to see himself thus treated, and take no notice of it: the king returned an answer to the propositions, and proposed a treaty by commissioners which the Parliament appointed.

Three months more were spent in naming commissioners. There was much time spent in this treaty, but little done; the commissioners debated chiefly the article of religion, and of the militia; in the latter they were very likely to agree, in the former both sides seemed too positive. The king would by no means abandon Episcopacy nor the Parliament Presbytery; for both in their opinion were _jure divino_.

The commissioners finding this point hardest to adjust, went from it to that of the militia; but the time spinning out, the king’s commissioners demanded longer time for the treaty; the other sent up for instructions, but the House refused to lengthen out the time.

This was thought an insolence upon the king, and gave all good people a detestation of such haughty behaviour; and thus the hopes of peace vanished, both sides prepared for war with as much eagerness as before.

The Parliament was employed at this time in what they called a-modelling their army; that is to say, that now the Independent party [was] beginning to prevail; and, as they outdid all the others in their resolution of carrying on the war to all extremities, so they were both the more vigorous and more politic party in carrying it on.

Indeed, the war was after this carried on with greater animosity than ever, and the generals pushed forward with a vigour that, as it had something in it unusual, so it told us plainly from this time, whatever they did before, they now pushed at the ruin even of the monarchy itself.

All this while also the war went on, and though the Parliament had no settled army, yet their regiments and troops were always in action; and the sword was at work in every part of the kingdom.

Among an infinite number of party skirmishings and fights this winter, one happened which nearly concerned me, which was the surprise of the town and castle of Shrewsbury. Colonel Mitton, with about 1200 horse and foot, having intelligence with some people in the town, on a Sunday morning early broke into the town and took it, castle and all. The loss for the quality, more than the number, was very great to the king’s affairs. They took there fifteen pieces of cannon, Prince Maurice’s magazine of arms and ammunition, Prince Rupert’s baggage, above fifty persons of quality and officers. There was not above eight or ten men killed on both sides, for the town was surprised, not stormed. I had a particular loss in this action; for all the men and horses my father had got together for the recruiting my regiment were here lost and dispersed, and, which was the worse, my father happening to be then in the town, was taken prisoner, and carried to Beeston Castle in Cheshire.

I was quartered all this winter at Banbury, and went little abroad; nor had we any action till the latter end of February, when I was ordered to march to Leicester with Sir Marmaduke Langdale, in order, as we thought, to raise a body of men in that county and Staffordshire to join the king.

We lay at Daventry one night, and continuing our march to pass the river above Northampton, that town being possessed by the enemy, we understood a party of Northampton forces were abroad, and intended to attack us. Accordingly, in the afternoon our scouts brought us word the enemy were quartered in some villages on the road to Coventry. Our commander, thinking it much better to set upon them in their quarters, than to wait for them in the field, resolves to attack them early in the morning before they were aware of it. We refreshed ourselves in the field for that day, and, getting into a great wood near the enemy, we stayed there all night, till almost break of day, without being discovered.

In the morning very early we heard the enemy’s trumpets sound to horse. This roused us to look abroad, and, sending out a scout, he brought us word a part of the enemy was at hand. We were vexed to be so disappointed, but finding their party small enough to be dealt with, Sir Marmaduke ordered me to charge them with 300 horse and 200 dragoons, while he at the same time entered the town. Accordingly I lay still till they came to the very skirt of the wood where I was posted, when I saluted them with a volley from my dragoons out of the wood, and immediately showed myself with my horse on their front ready to charge them. They appeared not to be surprised, and received our charge with great resolution; and, being above 400 men, they pushed me vigorously in their turn, putting my men into some disorder. In this extremity I sent to order my dragoons to charge them in the flank, which they did with great bravery, and the other still maintained the fight with desperate resolution. There was no want of courage in our men on both sides, but our dragoons had the advantage, and at last routed them, and drove them back to the village. Here Sir Marmaduke Langdale had his hands full too, for my firing had alarmed the towns adjacent, that when he came into the town he found them all in arms, and, contrary to his expectation, two regiments of foot, with about 500 horse more. As Sir Marmaduke had no foot, only horse and dragoons, this was a surprise to him; but he caused his dragoons to enter the town and charge the foot, while his horse secured the avenues of the town.

The dragoons bravely attacked the foot, and Sir Marmaduke falling in with his horse, the fight was obstinate and very bloody, when the horse that I had routed came flying into the street of the village, and my men at their heels. Immediately I left the pursuit, and fell in with all my force to the assistance of my friends, and, after an obstinate resistance, we routed the whole party; we killed about 700 men, took 350, 27 officers, 100 arms, all their baggage, and 200 horses, and continued our march to Harborough, where we halted to refresh ourselves.

Between Harborough and Leicester we met with a party of 800 dragoons of the Parliament forces. They, found themselves too few to attack us, and therefore to avoid us they had gotten into a small wood; but perceiving themselves discovered, they came boldly out, and placed themselves at the entrance into a lane, lining both sides of the hedges with their shot. We immediately attacked them, beat them from their hedges, beat them into the wood, and out of the wood again, and forced them at last to a downright run away, on foot, among the