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Title: Memoirs of a Cavalier - A Military Journal of the Wars in Germany, and the Wars in England. - From the Year 1632 to the Year 1648.
Author: Defoe, Daniel, 1661-1731
Language: English
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MEMOIRS OF A CAVALIER

or

A Military Journal of the Wars in Germany, and the Wars in England.
From the Year 1632 to the Year 1648.

By Daniel Defoe

Edited with Introduction and Notes by Elizabeth O'Neill

1922



INTRODUCTION.


Daniel Defoe is, perhaps, best known to us as the author of _Robinson
Crusoe_, a book which has been the delight of generations of boys and
girls ever since the beginning of the eighteenth century. For it was
then that Defoe lived and wrote, being one of the new school of prose
writers which grew up at that time and which gave England new forms
of literature almost unknown to an earlier age. Defoe was a vigorous
pamphleteer, writing first on the Whig side and later for the Tories
in the reigns of William III and Anne. He did much to foster the
growth of the newspaper, a form of literature which henceforth became
popular. He also did much towards the development of the modern novel,
though he did not write novels in our sense of the word. His books
were more simple than is the modern novel. What he really wrote were
long stories told, as is _Robinson Crusoe_, in the first person and
with so much detail that it is hard to believe that they are works of
imagination and not true stories. "The little art he is truly master
of, is of forging a story and imposing it upon the world as truth." So
wrote one of his contemporaries. Charles Lamb, in criticizing Defoe,
notices this minuteness of detail and remarks that he is, therefore,
an author suited only for "servants" (meaning that this method can
appeal only to comparatively uneducated minds). Really as every boy
and girl knows, a good story ought to have this quality of seeming
true, and the fact that Defoe can so deceive us makes his work the
more excellent reading.

The _Memoirs of a Cavalier_ resembles _Robinson Crusoe_ in so far as
it is a tale told by a man of his own experiences and adventures. It
has just the same air of truth and for a long time after its first
publication in 1720 people were divided in opinion as to whether it
was a book of real memoirs or not. A critical examination has shown
that it is Defoe's own work and not, as he declares, the contents of
a manuscript which he found "by great accident, among other valuable
papers" belonging to one of King William's secretaries of state.
Although his gifts of imagination enabled him to throw himself into
the position of the Cavalier he lapses occasionally into his own
characteristic prose and the style is often that of the eighteenth
rather than the seventeenth century, more eloquent than quaint. Again,
he is not careful to hide inconsistencies between his preface and the
text. Thus, he says in his preface that he discovered the manuscript
in 1651; yet we find in the _Memoirs_ a reference to the Restoration,
which shows that it must have been written after 1660 at least. There
is abundant proof that the book is really a work of fiction and that
the Cavalier is an imaginary character; but, in one sense, it is a
true history, inasmuch as the author has studied the events and spirit
of the time in which his scene is laid and, though he makes many
mistakes of detail, he gives us a very true picture of one of the most
interesting periods in English and European history. The _Memoirs_
thus represent the English historical novel in its beginnings, a much
simpler thing than it was to become in the hands of Scott and later
writers.

The period in which the scene is laid is that of the English Civil
War, in which the Cavalier fought on the side of King Charles I
against the Puritans. But his adventures in this war belong to the
second part of the book. In the first part, he tells of his birth and
parentage, the foreign travel which was the fashionable completion
of the education of a gentleman in the seventeenth century, and his
adventures as a volunteer officer in the Swedish army, where he gained
the experience which was to serve him well in the Civil War at home.
Many a real Cavalier must have had just such a career as Defoe's hero
describes as his own. After a short time at Oxford, "long enough for
a gentleman," he embarked on a period of travel, going to Italy by
way of France. The Cavalier, however, devotes but little space to
description, vivid enough as far as it goes, of his adventures in
these two countries for a space of over two years. Italy, especially,
attracted the attention of gentlemen and scholars in those days,
but the Cavalier was more bent on soldiering than sightseeing and he
hurries on to tell of his adventures in Germany, where he first really
took part in warfare, becoming a volunteer officer in the army of
Gustavus Adolphus, the hero King of Sweden, and where he met with
those adventures the story of which forms the bulk of the first part
of the _Memoirs_.

To appreciate the tale, it will be necessary to have a clear idea
of the state of affairs in Europe at the time. The war which was
convulsing Germany, and in which almost every other European power
interfered at some time, was the Thirty Years' War (1618--1648), a
struggle having a special character of its own as the last of the
religious wars which had torn Europe asunder for a century and the
first of a long series of wars in which the new and purely political
principle of the Balance of Power can be seen at work. The struggle
was, nominally, between Protestant and Catholic Germany for, during
the Reformation period, Germany, which consisted of numerous states
under the headship of the Emperor, had split into two great camps. The
Northern states had become Protestant under their Protestant princes.
The Southern states had remained, for the most part, Catholic or had
been won back to Catholicism in the religious reaction known as the
Counter-Reformation. As the Catholic movement spread, under a Catholic
Emperor like Ferdinand of Styria, who was elected in 1619, it was
inevitable that the privileges granted to Protestants should be
curtailed. They determined to resist and, as the Emperor had the
support of Spain, the Protestant Union found it necessary to call in
help from outside. Thus it was that the other European powers came to
interfere in German affairs. Some helped the Protestants from motives
of religion, more still from considerations of policy, and the long
struggle of thirty years may be divided into marked periods in which
one power after another, Denmark, Sweden, France, allied themselves
with the Protestants against the Emperor. The _Memoirs_ are
concerned with the first two years of the Swedish period of the war
(1630--1634), during which Gustavus Adolphus almost won victory
for the Protestants who were, however, to lose the advantage of his
brilliant generalship through his death at the battle of Lützen in
1632. Through the death of "this conquering king," the Swedes lost the
fruits of their victory and the battle of Lützen marks the end of what
may be termed the heroic period of the war. Gustavus Adolphus stands
out among the men of his day for the loftiness of his character as
well as for the genius of his generalship. It is, therefore, fitting
enough that Defoe should make his Cavalier withdraw from the Swedish
service after the death of the "glorious king" whom he "could never
mention without some remark of his extraordinary merit." For two years
longer, he wanders through Germany still watching the course of the
war and then returns to England, soon to take part in another war at
home, namely the Civil War, in which the English people were divided
into two great parties according as they supported King Charles I or
the members of the Long Parliament who opposed him. According to the
_Memoirs_, the Cavalier "went into arms" without troubling himself "to
examine sides." Defoe probably considered this attitude as typical
of many of the Cavalier party, and, of course, loyalty to the king's
person was one of their strongest motives. The Cavalier does not enter
largely into the causes of the war. What he gives us is a picture of
army life in that troubled period. It will be well, however, to bear
in mind the chief facts in the history of the times.

From the beginning of his reign, Charles had had trouble with his
parliaments, which had already become very restless under James I.
Charles's parliaments disapproved of his foreign policy and their
unwillingness to grant subsidies led him to fall back on questionable
methods of raising money, especially during the eleven years
(1629--1640) in which he ruled without a parliament. Charles had no
great scheme of tyranny, but avoided parliaments because of their
criticism of his policy. At first the opposition had been purely
political, but the parliament of 1629 had attacked also Charles's
religious policy. He favoured the schemes of Laud (archbishop of
Canterbury 1633--1649) and the Arminian school among the clergy, who
wished to revive many of the old Catholic practices and some of the
beliefs which had been swept away by the Reformation. Many people
in England objected not only to these but even to the wearing of the
surplice, the simplest of the old vestments, on the use of which Laud
tried to insist. This party came to be known as Puritans and they
formed the chief strength of the opposition to the King in the Long
Parliament which met in 1640. For their attack on the Church led many
who had at first opposed the King's arbitrary methods to go over to
his side. Thus, the moderate men as well as the loyalists formed a
king's party and the opposition was almost confined to men who hated
the Church as much as the King. The Puritans who loved simplicity
of dress and severity of manners and despised the flowing locks and
worldly vanities which the Cavaliers loved were, by these, nicknamed
Roundheads on account of their short hair. Defoe, in the _Memoirs_,
gives us less of this side of the history of the times than might have
been expected. The war actually began in August, 1642, and what
Defoe gives us is military history, correct in essentials and full
of detail, which is, however, far from accurate. For instance, in his
account of the battle of Marston Moor, he makes prince Rupert command
the left wing, whereas he really commanded the right wing, the left
being led by Lord Goring who, according to Defoe's account, commanded
the main battle. He conveys to us, however, the true spirit of the
war, emphasizing the ability and the mistakes on both sides, showing
how the king's miscalculations or Rupert's rashness deprived the
Royalist party of the advantages of the superior generalship and
fighting power which were theirs in the first part of the war and how
gradually the Roundheads got the better of the Cavaliers. The detailed
narrative comes to an end with the delivery of the King to the
Parliament by the Scots, to whom he had given himself up in his
extremity. A few lines tell of his trial and execution and the
_Memoirs_ end with some pages of "remarks and observations" on the
war and a list of coincidences which had been noted in its course.
The latter, savouring somewhat of superstition, appear natural in
what purports to be a seventeenth century text, but the summing up of
conclusions about the war is rather such as might be made by a more or
less impartial observer at a later date than by one who had taken an
active part in the struggle. In reading the _Memoirs_ this mixture of
what belongs to the seventeenth century with the reflections of Defoe,
in many ways a typical eighteenth century figure, must be borne in
mind. The inaccuracies are pointed out in the notes, but these need
not prevent us from entering with zest into the spirit of the story.

E. O'NEILL.

4 _March_ 1908.



CONTENTS

  INTRODUCTION.
  PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION.
  TEXT: Part I.
        Part II.
  NOTES.



PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION.


As an evidence that 'tis very probable these Memorials were written
many years ago, the persons now concerned in the publication assure
the reader that they have had them in their possession finished, as
they now appear, above twenty years; that they were so long ago found
by great accident, among other valuable papers, in the closet of an
eminent public minister, of no less figure than one of King William's
secretaries of state.

As it is not proper to trace them any farther, so neither is there any
need to trace them at all, to give reputation to the story related,
seeing the actions here mentioned have a sufficient sanction from all
the histories of the times to which they relate, with this addition,
that the admirable manner of relating them and the wonderful variety
of incidents with which they are beautified in the course of a private
gentleman's story, add such delight in the reading, and give such a
lustre, as well to the accounts themselves as to the person who was
the actor, that no story, we believe, extant in the world ever came
abroad with such advantage.

It must naturally give some concern in the reading that the name of a
person of so much gallantry and honour, and so many ways valuable
to the world, should be lost to the readers. We assure them no small
labour has been thrown away upon the inquiry, and all we have been
able to arrive to of discovery in this affair is, that a memorandum
was found with this manuscript, in these words, but not signed by any
name, only the two letters of a name, which gives us no light into the
matter, which memoir was as follows:--

_Memorandum_.

"I found this manuscript among my father's writings, and I understand
that he got them as plunder, at, or after, the fight at Worcester,
where he served as major of ----'s regiment of horse on the side of
the Parliament. I.K."

As this has been of no use but to terminate the inquiry after the
person, so, however, it seems most naturally to give an authority to
the original of the work, viz., that it was born of a soldier; and
indeed it is through every part related with so soldierly a style, and
in the very language of the field, that it seems impossible anything
but the very person who was present in every action here related,
could be the relater of them.

The accounts of battles, the sieges, and the several actions of which
this work is so full, are all recorded in the histories of those
times; such as the great battle of Leipsic, the sacking of Magdeburg,
the siege of Nuremburg, the passing the river Lech in Bavaria; such
also as the battle of Kineton, or Edgehill, the battles of Newbury,
Marston Moor, and Naseby, and the like: they are all, we say, recorded
in other histories, and written by those who lived in those times, and
perhaps had good authority for what they wrote. But do those relations
give any of the beautiful ideas of things formed in this account?
Have they one half of the circumstances and incidents of the actions
themselves that this man's eyes were witness to, and which his memory
has thus preserved? He that has read the best accounts of those
battles will be surprised to see the particulars of the story so
preserved, so nicely and so agreeably described, and will confess
what we allege, that the story is inimitably told; and even the great
actions of the glorious King GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS receive a lustre
from this man's relations which the world was never made sensible of
before, and which the present age has much wanted of late, in order to
give their affections a turn in favour of his late glorious successor.

In the story of our own country's unnatural wars, he carries on the
same spirit. How effectually does he record the virtues and glorious
actions of King Charles the First, at the same time that he frequently
enters upon the mistakes of his Majesty's conduct, and of his friends,
which gave his enemies all those fatal advantages against him, which
ended in the overthrow of his armies, the loss of his crown and life,
and the ruin of the constitution!

In all his accounts he does justice to his enemies, and honours
the merit of those whose cause he fought against; and many accounts
recorded in his story, are not to be found even in the best histories
of those times.

What applause does he give to gallantry of Sir Thomas Fairfax, to his
modesty, to his conduct, under which he himself was subdued, and to
the justice he did the king's troops when they laid down their arms!

His description of the Scots troops in the beginning of the war, and
the behaviour of the party under the Earl of Holland, who went over
against them, are admirable; and his censure of their conduct, who
pushed the king upon the quarrel, and then would not let him fight, is
no more than what many of the king's friends (though less knowing as
soldiers) have often complained of.

In a word, this work is a confutation of many errors in all the
writers upon the subject of our wars in England, and even in that
extraordinary history written by the Earl of Clarendon; but the
editors were so just that when, near twenty years ago, a person
who had written a whole volume in folio, by way of answer to and
confutation of Clarendon's "History of the Rebellion," would have
borrowed the clauses in this account, which clash with that history,
and confront it,--we say the editors were so just as to refuse them.

There can be nothing objected against the general credit of this work,
seeing its truth is established upon universal history; and almost all
the facts, especially those of moment, are confirmed for their general
part by all the writers of those times. If they are here embellished
with particulars, which are nowhere else to be found, that is the
beauty we boast of; and that it is that much recommend this work to
all the men of sense and judgment that read it.

The only objection we find possible to make against this work is, that
it is not carried on farther, or, as we may say finished, with the
finishing the war of the time; and this we complain of also. But then
we complain of it as a misfortune to the world, not as a fault in the
author; for how do we know but that this author might carry it on, and
have another part finished which might not fall into the same hands,
or may still remain with some of his family, and which they cannot
indeed publish, to make it seem anything perfect, for want of the
other parts which we have, and which we have now made public? Nor is
it very improbable but that if any such farther part is in being, the
publishing these two parts may occasion the proprietors of the third
to let the world see it, and that by such a discovery the name of the
person may also come to be known, which would, no doubt, be a great
satisfaction to the reader as well as us.

This, however, must be said, that if the same author should have
written another part of this work, and carried it on to the end of
those times, yet as the residue of those melancholy days, to the
Restoration, were filled with the intrigues of government, the
political management of illegal power, and the dissensions and
factions of a people who were then even in themselves but a faction,
and that there was very little action in the field, it is more than
probable that our author, who was a man of arms, had little share in
those things, and might not care to trouble himself with looking at
them.

But besides all this, it might happen that he might go abroad again
at that time, as most of the gentlemen of quality, and who had an
abhorrence for the power that then governed here, did. Nor are we
certain that he might live to the end of that time, so we can give
no account whether he had any share in the subsequent actions of that
time.

'Tis enough that we have the authorities above to recommend this part
to us that is now published. The relation, we are persuaded, will
recommend itself, and nothing more can be needful, because nothing
more can invite than the story itself, which, when the reader enters
into, he will find it very hard to get out of till he has gone through
it.



MEMOIRS OF A CAVALIER.

PART I.


It may suffice the reader, without being very inquisitive after my
name, that I was born in the county of Salop, in the year 1608, under
the government of what star I was never astrologer enough to
examine; but the consequences of my life may allow me to suppose some
extraordinary influence affected my birth.

My father was a gentleman of a very plentiful fortune, having an
estate of above £5000 per annum, of a family nearly allied to several
of the principal nobility, and lived about six miles from the town;
and my mother being at ---- on some particular occasion, was surprised
there at a friend's house, and brought me very safe into the world.

I was my father's second son, and therefore was not altogether so much
slighted as younger sons of good families generally are. But my father
saw something in my genius also which particularly pleased him, and so
made him take extraordinary care of my education.

I was taught, therefore, by the best masters that could be had,
everything that was needful to accomplish a young gentleman for the
world; and at seventeen years old my tutor told my father an academic
education was very proper for a person of quality, and he thought me
very fit for it: so my father entered me of ---- College in Oxford,
where I continued three years.

A collegiate life did not suit me at all, though I loved books well
enough. It was never designed that I should be either a lawyer,
physician, or divine; and I wrote to my father that I thought I had
stayed there long enough for a gentleman, and with his leave I desired
to give him a visit.

During my stay at Oxford, though I passed through the proper exercises
of the house, yet my chief reading was upon history and geography,
as that which pleased my mind best, and supplied me with ideas most
suitable to my genius; by one I understood what great actions had been
done in the world, and by the other I understood where they had been
done.

My father readily complied with my desire of coming home; for besides
that he thought, as I did, that three years' time at the university
was enough, he also most passionately loved me, and began to think of
my settling near him.

At my arrival I found myself extraordinarily caressed by my father,
and he seemed to take a particular delight in my conversation. My
mother, who lived in perfect union with him both in desires and
affection, received me very passionately. Apartments were provided for
me by myself, and horses and servants allowed me in particular.

My father never went a-hunting, an exercise he was exceeding fond of,
but he would have me with him; and it pleased him when he found me
like the sport. I lived thus, in all the pleasures 'twas possible for
me to enjoy, for about a year more, when going out one morning with my
father to hunt a stag, and having had a very hard chase, and gotten
a great way off from home, we had leisure enough to ride gently back;
and as we returned my father took occasion to enter into a serious
discourse with me concerning the manner of my settling in the world.

He told me, with a great deal of passion, that he loved me above all
the rest of his children, and that therefore he intended to do very
well for me; and that my eldest brother being already married
and settled, he had designed the same for me, and proposed a very
advantageous match for me, with a young lady of very extraordinary
fortune and merit, and offered to make a settlement of £2000 per annum
on me, which he said he would purchase for me without diminishing his
paternal estate.

There was too much tenderness in this discourse not to affect me
exceedingly. I told him I would perfectly resign myself unto his
disposal. But as my father had, together with his love for me, a very
nice judgment in his discourse, he fixed his eyes very attentively on
me, and though my answer was without the least reserve, yet he
thought he saw some uneasiness in me at the proposal, and from thence
concluded that my compliance was rather an act of discretion than
inclination; and that, however I seemed so absolutely given up to what
he had proposed, yet my answer was really an effect of my obedience
rather than my choice.

So he returned very quick upon me: "Look you, son, though I give you
my own thoughts in the matter, yet I would have you be very plain with
me; for if your own choice does not agree with mine, I will be your
adviser, but will never impose upon you, and therefore let me know
your mind freely." "I don't reckon myself capable, sir," said I, with
a great deal of respect, "to make so good a choice for myself as you
can for me; and though my opinion differed from yours, its being your
opinion would reform mine, and my judgment would as readily comply as
my duty." "I gather at least from thence," said my father, "that your
designs lay another way before, however they may comply with mine; and
therefore I would know what it was you would have asked of me if I had
not offered this to you; and you must not deny me your obedience in
this, if you expect I should believe your readiness in the other."

"Sir," said I, "'twas impossible I should lay out for myself just
what you have proposed; but if my inclinations were never so contrary,
though at your command you shall know them, yet I declare them to be
wholly subjected to your order. I confess my thoughts did not tend
towards marriage or a settlement; for, though I had no reason to
question your care of me, yet I thought a gentleman ought always to
see something of the world before he confined himself to any part of
it. And if I had been to ask your consent to anything, it should have
been to give me leave to travel for a short time, in order to qualify
myself to appear at home like a son to so good a father."

"In what capacity would you travel?" replied my father. "You must go
abroad either as a private gentleman, as a scholar, or as a soldier."
"If it were in the latter capacity, sir," said I, returning pretty
quick, "I hope I should not misbehave myself; but I am not so
determined as not to be ruled by your judgment." "Truly," replied my
father, "I see no war abroad at this time worth while for a man to
appear in, whether we talk of the cause or the encouragement; and
indeed, son, I am afraid you need not go far for adventures of that
nature, for times seem to look as if this part of Europe would find us
work enough." My father spake then relating to the quarrel likely
to happen between the King of England and the Spaniard,' [1] for I
believe he had no notions of a civil war in his head.

In short, my father, perceiving my inclinations very forward to go
abroad, gave me leave to travel, upon condition I would promise to
return in two years at farthest, or sooner, if he sent for me.

While I was at Oxford I happened into the society of a young
gentleman, of a good family, but of a low fortune, being a younger
brother, and who had indeed instilled into me the first desires of
going abroad, and who, I knew, passionately longed to travel, but had
not sufficient allowance to defray his expenses as a gentleman. We
had contracted a very close friendship, and our humours being very
agreeable to one another, we daily enjoyed the conversation of
letters. He was of a generous free temper, without the least
affectation or deceit, a handsome proper person, a strong body, very
good mien, and brave to the last degree. His name was Fielding and we
called him Captain, though it be a very unusual title in a college;
but fate had some hand in the title, for he had certainly the lines of
a soldier drawn in his countenance. I imparted to him the resolutions
I had taken, and how I had my father's consent to go abroad, and would
know his mind whether he would go with me. He sent me word he would go
with all his heart.

My father, when he saw him, for I sent for him immediately to come
to me, mightily approved my choice; so we got our equipage ready, and
came away for London.

'Twas on the 22nd of April 1630, when we embarked at Dover, landed in
a few hours at Calais, and immediately took post for Paris. I shall
not trouble the reader with a journal of my travels, nor with the
description of places, which every geographer can do better than I;
but these Memoirs being only a relation of what happened either to
ourselves, or in our own knowledge, I shall confine myself to that
part of it.

We had indeed some diverting passages in our journey to Paris, as
first, the horse my comrade was upon fell so very lame with a slip
that he could not go, and hardly stand, and the fellow that rid with
us express, pretended to ride away to a town five miles off to get a
fresh horse, and so left us on the road with one horse between two of
us. We followed as well as we could, but being strangers, missed the
way, and wandered a great way out the road. Whether the man performed
in reasonable time or not we could not be sure, but if it had not been
for an old priest, we had never found him. We met this man, by a very
good accident, near a little village whereof he was curate. We spoke
Latin enough just to make him understand us, and he did not speak it
much better himself; but he carried us into the village to his house,
gave us wine and bread, and entertained us with wonderful courtesy.
After this he sent into the village, hired a peasant, and a horse for
my captain, and sent him to guide us into the road. At parting he
made a great many compliments to us in French, which we could just
understand; but the sum was, to excuse him for a question he had
a mind to ask us. After leave to ask what he pleased, it was if we
wanted any money for our journey, and pulled out two pistoles, which
he offered either to give or lend us.

I mention this exceeding courtesy of the curate because, though
civility is very much in use in France, and especially to strangers,
yet 'tis a very unusual thing to have them part with their money.

We let the priest know, first, that we did not want money, and next
that we were very sensible of the obligation he had put upon us; and
I told him in particular, if I lived to see him again, I would
acknowledge it.

This accident of our horse was, as we afterwards found, of some use
to us. We had left our two servants behind us at Calais to bring our
baggage after us, by reason of some dispute between the captain of the
packet and the custom-house officer, which could not be adjusted, and
we were willing to be at Paris. The fellows followed as fast as they
could, and, as near as we could learn, in the time we lost our way,
were robbed, and our portmanteaus opened. They took what they pleased;
but as there was no money there, but linen and necessaries, the loss
was not great.

Our guide carried us to Amiens, where we found the express and our two
servants, who the express meeting on the road with a spare horse, had
brought back with him thither.

We took this for a good omen of our successful journey, having escaped
a danger which might have been greater to us than it was to our
servants; for the highwaymen in France do not always give a traveller
the civility of bidding him stand and deliver his money, but
frequently fire on him first, and then take his money.

We stayed one day at Amiens, to adjust this little disorder, and
walked about the town, and into the great church, but saw nothing
very remarkable there; but going across a broad street near the great
church, we saw a crowd of people gazing at a mountebank doctor, who
made a long harangue to them with a thousand antic postures, and gave
out bills this way, and boxes of physic that way, and had a great
trade, when on a sudden the people raised a cry, "_Larron, Larron_!"
(in English, "Thief, thief"), on the other side the street, and all
the auditors ran away, from Mr Doctor to see what the matter was.
Among the rest we went to see, and the case was plain and short
enough. Two English gentlemen and a Scotchman, travellers as we were,
were standing gazing at this prating doctor, and one of them catched
a fellow picking his pocket. The fellow had got some of his money, for
he dropped two or three pieces just by him, and had got hold of
his watch, but being surprised let it slip again. But the reason of
telling this story is for the management of it. This thief had his
seconds so ready, that as soon as the Englishman had seized him they
fell in, pretended to be mighty zealous for the stranger, takes the
fellow by the throat, and makes a great bustle; the gentleman not
doubting but the man was secured let go his own hold of him, and left
him to them. The hubbub was great, and 'twas these fellows cried,
"_Larron, larron_!" but with a dexterity peculiar to themselves had
let the right fellow go, and pretended to be all upon one of their own
gang. At last they bring the man to the gentleman to ask him what the
fellow had done, who, when he saw the person they seized on, presently
told them that was not the man. Then they seemed to be in more
consternation than before, and spread themselves all over the street,
crying, "_Larron, larron_!" pretending to search for the fellow; and
so one one way, one another, they were all gone, the noise went over,
the gentlemen stood looking one at another, and the bawling doctor
began to have the crowd about him again. This was the first French
trick I had the opportunity of seeing, but I was told they have a
great many more as dexterous as this.

We soon got acquaintance with these gentlemen, who were going to
Paris, as well as we; so the next day we made up our company with
them, and were a pretty troop of five gentlemen and four servants.

As we had really no design to stay long at Paris, so indeed, excepting
the city itself, there was not much to be seen there. Cardinal
Richelieu, who was not only a supreme minister in the Church, but
Prime Minister in the State, was now made also General of the King's
Forces, with a title never known in France before nor since, viz.,
Lieutenant-General "au place du Roi," in the king's stead, or, as some
have since translated it, representing the person of the king.

Under this character he pretended to execute all the royal powers in
the army without appeal to the king, or without waiting for orders;
and having parted from Paris the winter before had now actually begun
the war against the Duke of Savoy, in the process of which he restored
the Duke of Mantua, and having taken Pignerol from the duke, put it
into such a state of defence as the duke could never force it out of
his hands, and reduced the duke, rather by manage and conduct than
by force, to make peace without it; so as annexing it to the crown of
France it has ever since been a thorn in his foot that has always
made the peace of Savoy lame and precarious, and France has since made
Pignerol one of the strongest fortresses in the world.

As the cardinal, with all the military part of the court, was in the
field, so the king, to be near him, was gone with the queen and all
the court, just before I reached Paris, to reside at Lyons. All these
considered, there was nothing to do at Paris; the court looked like a
citizen's house when the family was all gone into the country, and
I thought the whole city looked very melancholy, compared to all the
fine things I had heard of it.

The queen-mother and her party were chagrined at the cardinal, who,
though he owed his grandeur to her immediate favour, was now grown too
great any longer to be at the command of her Majesty, or indeed in her
interest; and therefore the queen was under dissatisfaction and her
party looked very much down.

The Protestants were everywhere disconsolate, for the losses they had
received at Rochelle, Nimes, and Montpelier had reduced them to an
absolute dependence on the king's will, without all possible hopes of
ever recovering themselves, or being so much as in a condition to
take arms for their religion, and therefore the wisest of them plainly
foresaw their own entire reduction, as it since came to pass. And I
remember very well that a Protestant gentleman told me once, as we
were passing from Orleans to Lyons, that the English had ruined them;
and therefore, says he, "I think the next occasion the king takes to
use us ill, as I know 'twill not be long before he does, we must all
fly over to England, where you are bound to maintain us for having
helped to turn us out of our own country." I asked him what he meant
by saying the English had done it? He returned short upon me: "I do
not mean," says he, "by not relieving Rochelle, but by helping to ruin
Rochelle, when you and the Dutch lent ships to beat our fleet, which
all the ships in France could not have done without you."

I was too young in the world to be very sensible of this before, and
therefore was something startled at the charge; but when I came to
discourse with this gentleman, I soon saw the truth of what he said
was undeniable, and have since reflected on it with regret, that the
naval power of the Protestants, which was then superior to the royal,
would certainly have been the recovery of all their fortunes, had it
not been unhappily broke by their brethren of England and Holland,
the former lending seven men-of-war, and the latter twenty, for the
destruction of the Rochellers' fleet; and by these very ships the
Rochellers' fleet were actually beaten and destroyed, and they never
afterwards recovered their force at sea, and by consequence sunk under
the siege, which the English afterwards in vain attempted to prevent.

These things made the Protestants look very dull, and expected the
ruin of all their party, which had certainly happened had the cardinal
lived a few years longer.

We stayed in Paris, about three weeks, as well to see the court and
what rarities the place afforded, as by an occasion which had like to
have put a short period to our ramble.

Walking one morning before the gate of the Louvre, with a design to
see the Swiss drawn up, which they always did, and exercised just
before they relieved the guards, a page came up to me, and speaking
English to me, "Sir," says he, "the captain must needs have your
immediate assistance." I, that had not the knowledge of any person
in Paris but my own companion, whom I called captain, had no room to
question, but it was he that sent for me; and crying out hastily to
him, "Where?" followed the fellow as fast as 'twas possible. He led
me through several passages which I knew not, and at last through a
tennis-court and into a large room, where three men, like gentlemen,
were engaged very briskly two against one. The room was very dark, so
that I could not easily know them asunder, but being fully possessed
with an opinion before of my captain's danger, I ran into the room
with my sword in my hand. I had not particularly engaged any of them,
nor so much as made a pass at any, when I received a very dangerous
thrust in my thigh, rather occasioned by my too hasty running in,
than a real design of the person; but enraged at the hurt, without
examining who it was hurt me, I threw myself upon him, and run my
sword quite through his body.

The novelty of the adventure, and the unexpected fall of the man by
a stranger come in nobody knew how, had becalmed the other two, that
they really stood gazing at me. By this time I had discovered that my
captain was not there, and that 'twas some strange accident brought
me thither. I could speak but little French, and supposed they could
speak no English, so I stepped to the door to see for the page that
brought me thither, but seeing nobody there and the passage clear,
I made off as fast as I could, without speaking a word; nor did the
other two gentlemen offer to stop me.

But I was in a strange confusion when, coming into those entries and
passages which the page led me through, I could by no means find my
way out. At last seeing a door open that looked through a house into
the street, I went in, and out at the other door; but then I was at
as great a loss to know where I was, and which was the way to my
lodgings. The wound in my thigh bled apace, and I could feel the blood
in my breeches. In this interval came by a chair; I called, and went
into it, and bid them, as well as I could, go to the Louvre; for
though I knew not the name of the street where I lodged, I knew I
could find the way to it when I was at the Bastille. The chairmen went
on their own way, and being stopped by a company of the guards as they
went, set me down till the soldiers were marched by; when looking out
I found I was just at my own lodging, and the captain was standing at
the door looking for me. I beckoned him to me, and, whispering, told
him I was very much hurt, but bid him pay the chairmen, and ask no
questions but come to me.

I made the best of my way upstairs, but had lost so much blood, that I
had hardly spirits enough to keep me from swooning till he came in.
He was equally concerned with me to see me in such a bloody condition,
and presently called up our landlord, and he as quickly called in his
neighbours, that I had a room full of people about me in a quarter
of an hour. But this had like to have been of worse consequence to me
than the other, for by this time there was great inquiring after the
person who killed a man at the tennis-court. My landlord was then
sensible of his mistake, and came to me and told me the danger I was
in, and very honestly offered to convey me to a friend's of his, where
I should be very secure; I thanked him, and suffered myself to be
carried at midnight whither he pleased. He visited me very often, till
I was well enough to walk about, which was not in less than ten days,
and then we thought fit to be gone, so we took post for Orleans. But
when I came upon the road I found myself in a new error, for my wound
opened again with riding, and I was in a worse condition than before,
being forced to take up at a little village on the road, called ----,
about ---- miles from Orleans, where there was no surgeon to be had,
but a sorry country barber, who nevertheless dressed me as well as he
could, and in about a week more I was able to walk to Orleans at three
times. Here I stayed till I was quite well, and took coach for Lyons
and so through Savoy into Italy.

I spent nearly two years' time after this bad beginning in travelling
through Italy, and to the several courts of Rome, Naples, Venice, and
Vienna.

When I came to Lyons the king was gone from thence to Grenoble to meet
the cardinal, but the queens were both at Lyons.

The French affairs seemed at this time to have but an indifferent
aspect. There was no life in anything but where the cardinal was: he
pushed on everything with extraordinary conduct, and generally with
success; he had taken Susa and Pignerol from the Duke of Savoy, and
was preparing to push the duke even out of all his dominions.

But in the meantime everywhere else things looked ill; the troops
were ill-paid, the magazines empty, the people mutinous, and a general
disorder seized the minds of the court; and the cardinal, who was the
soul of everything, desired this interview at Grenoble, in order to
put things into some better method.

This politic minister always ordered matters so, that if there was
success in anything the glory was his, but if things miscarried it was
all laid upon the king. This conduct was so much the more nice, as it
is the direct contrary to the custom in like cases, where kings assume
the glory of all the success in an action, and when a thing miscarries
make themselves easy by sacrificing their ministers and favourites
to the complaints and resentments of the people; but this accurate
refined statesman got over this point.

While we were at Lyons, and as I remember, the third day after our
coming thither, we had like to have been involved in a state broil,
without knowing where we were. It was of a Sunday in the evening, the
people of Lyons, who had been sorely oppressed in taxes, and the war
in Italy pinching their trade, began to be very tumultuous. We found
the day before the mob got together in great crowds, and talked oddly;
the king was everywhere reviled, and spoken disrespectfully of, and
the magistrates of the city either winked at, or durst not attempt to
meddle, lest they should provoke the people.

But on Sunday night, about midnight, we were waked by a prodigious
noise in the street. I jumped out of bed, and running to the window,
I saw the street as full of mob as it could hold, some armed with
muskets and halberds, matched in very good order; others in disorderly
crowds, all shouting and crying out, "Du paix le roi," and the like.
One that led a great party of this rabble carried a loaf of bread upon
the top of a pike, and other lesser loaves, signifying the smallness
of their bread, occasioned by dearness.

By morning this crowd was gathered to a great height; they ran roving
over the whole city, shut up all the shops, and forced all the
people to join with them from thence. They went up to the castle, and
renewing the clamour, a strange consternation seized all the princes.

They broke open the doors of the officers, collectors of the new
taxes, and plundered their houses, and had not the persons themselves
fled in time they had been very ill-treated.

The queen-mother, as she was very much displeased to see such
consequences of the government, in whose management she had no share,
so I suppose she had the less concern upon her. However, she came into
the court of the castle and showed herself to the people, gave money
amongst them, and spoke gently to them; and by a way peculiar to
herself, and which obliged all she talked with, she pacified the mob
gradually, sent them home with promises of redress and the like; and
so appeased this tumult in two days by her prudence, which the guards
in the castle had small mind to meddle with, and if they had, would in
all probability have made the better side the worse.

There had been several seditions of the like nature in sundry other
parts of France, and the very army began to murmur, though not to
mutiny, for want of provisions.

This sedition at Lyons was not quite over when we left the place,
for, finding the city all in a broil, we considered we had no business
there, and what the consequence of a popular tumult might be we did
not see, so we prepared to be gone. We had not rid above three miles
out of the city but we were brought as prisoners of war, by a party of
mutineers, who had been abroad upon the scout, and were charged
with being messengers sent to the cardinal for forces to reduce the
citizens. With these pretences they brought us back in triumph, and
the queen-mother, being by this time grown something familiar to them,
they carried us before her.

When they inquired of us who we were, we called ourselves Scots; for
as the English were very much out of favour in France at this time,
the peace having been made not many months, and not supposed to
be very durable, because particularly displeasing to the people of
England, so the Scots were on the other extreme with the French.
Nothing was so much caressed as the Scots, and a man had no more to
do in France, if he would be well received there, than to say he was a
Scotchman.

When we came before the queen-mother she seemed to receive us with
some stiffness at first, and caused her guards to take us into
custody; but as she was a lady of most exquisite politics, she did
this to amuse the mob, and we were immediately after dismissed; and
the queen herself made a handsome excuse to us for the rudeness we had
suffered, alleging the troubles of the times; and the next morning we
had three dragoons of the guards to convoy us out of the jurisdiction
of Lyons.

I confess this little adventure gave me an aversion to popular tumults
all my life after, and if nothing else had been in the cause, would
have biassed me to espouse the king's party in England when our
popular heats carried all before it at home.

But I must say, that when I called to mind since, the address, the
management, the compliance in show, and in general the whole conduct
of the queen-mother with the mutinous people of Lyons, and compared it
with the conduct of my unhappy master the King of England, I could not
but see that the queen understood much better than King Charles the
management of politics and the clamours of the people.

Had this princess been at the helm in England, she would have
prevented all the calamities of the Civil War here, and yet not have
parted with what that good prince yielded in order to peace neither.
She would have yielded gradually, and then gained upon them gradually;
she would have managed them to the point she had designed them, as she
did all parties in France; and none could effectually subject her but
the very man she had raised to be her principal support--I mean the
cardinal.

We went from hence to Grenoble, and arrived there the same day that
the king and the cardinal with the whole court went out to view a body
of 6000 Swiss foot, which the cardinal had wheedled the cantons to
grant to the king to help to ruin their neighbour the Duke of Savoy.

The troops were exceeding fine, well-accoutred, brave, clean-limbed,
stout fellows indeed. Here I saw the cardinal; there was an air of
church gravity in his habit, but all the vigour of a general, and
the sprightliness of a vast genius in his face. He affected a little
stiffness in his behaviour, but managed all his affairs with such
clearness, such steadiness, and such application, that it was no
wonder he had such success in every undertaking.

Here I saw the king, whose figure was mean, his countenance hollow,
and always seemed dejected, and every way discovering that weakness in
his countenance that appeared in his actions.

If he was ever sprightly and vigorous it was when the cardinal was
with him, for he depended so much on everything he did, he that was at
the utmost dilemma when he was absent, always timorous, jealous, and
irresolute.

After the review the cardinal was absent some days, having been to
wait on the queen-mother at Lyons, where, as it was discoursed, they
were at least seemingly reconciled.

I observed while the cardinal was gone there was no court, the king
was seldom to be seen, very small attendance given, and no bustle at
the castle; but as soon as the cardinal returned, the great councils
were assembled, the coaches of the ambassadors went every day to the
castle, and a face of business appeared upon the whole court.

Here the measures of the Duke of Savoy's ruin were concerted, and in
order to it the king and the cardinal put themselves at the head
of the army, with which they immediately reduced all Savoy, took
Chamberri and the whole duchy except Montmelian.

The army that did this was not above 22,000 men, including the Swiss,
and but indifferent troops neither, especially the French foot, who,
compared to the infantry I have since seen in the German and Swedish
armies, were not fit to be called soldiers. On the other hand,
considering the Savoyards and Italian troops, they were good troops;
but the cardinal's conduct made amends for all these deficiencies.

From hence I went to Pignerol, which was then little more than a
single fortification on the hill near the town called St Bride's, but
the situation of that was very strong. I mention this because of the
prodigious works since added to it, by which it has since obtained the
name of "the right hand of France." They had begun a new line below
the hill, and some works were marked out on the side of the town next
the fort; but the cardinal afterwards drew the plan of the works with
his own hand, by which it was made one of the strongest fortresses in
Europe.

While I was at Pignerol, the governor of Milan, for the Spaniards,
came with an army and sat down before Casale. The grand quarrel,
and for which the war in this part of Italy was begun, was this: The
Spaniards and Germans pretended to the duchy of Mantua; the Duke
of Nevers, a Frenchman, had not only a title to it, but had got
possession of it; but being ill-supported by the French, was beaten
out by the Imperialists, and after a long siege the Germans took
Mantua itself, and drove the poor duke quite out of the country.

The taking of Mantua elevated the spirits of the Duke of Savoy, and
the Germans and Spaniards being now at more leisure, with a complete
army came to his assistance, and formed the siege of Montferrat.

For as the Spaniards pushed the Duke of Mantua, so the French by
way of diversion lay hard upon the Duke of Savoy. They had seized
Montferrat, and held it for the Duke of Mantua, and had a strong
French garrison under Thoiras, a brave and experienced commander; and
thus affairs stood when we came into the French army.

I had no business there as a soldier, but having passed as a Scotch
gentleman with the mob at Lyons, and after with her Majesty the
queen-mother, when we obtained the guard of her dragoons, we had also
her Majesty's pass, with which we came and went where we pleased. And
the cardinal, who was then not on very good terms with the queen, but
willing to keep smooth water there, when two or three times our passes
came to be examined, showed a more than ordinary respect to us on that
very account, our passes being from the queen.

Casale being besieged, as I have observed, began to be in danger, for
the cardinal, who 'twas thought had formed a design to ruin Savoy, was
more intent upon that than upon the succour of the Duke of Mantua; but
necessity calling upon him to deliver so great a captain as Thoiras,
and not to let such a place as Casale fall into the hands of the
enemy, the king, or cardinal rather, ordered the Duke of Montmorency,
and the Maréchal D'Effiat, with 10,000 foot and 2000 horse, to march
and join the Maréchals De La Force and Schomberg, who lay already with
an army on the frontiers of Genoa, but too weak to attempt the raising
the siege of Casale.

As all men thought there would be a battle between the French and the
Spaniards, I could not prevail with myself to lose the opportunity,
and therefore by the help of the passes above mentioned, I came to
the French army under the Duke of Montmorency. We marched through the
enemy's country with great boldness and no small hazard, for the Duke
of Savoy appeared frequently with great bodies of horse on the rear of
the army, and frequently skirmished with our troops, in one of which
I had the folly--I can call it no better, for I had no business
there--to go out and see the sport, as the French gentlemen called it.
I was but a raw soldier, and did not like the sport at all, for this
party was surrounded by the Duke of Savoy, and almost all killed, for
as to quarter they neither asked nor gave. I ran away very fairly,
one of the first, and my companion with me, and by the goodness of our
horses got out of the fray, and being not much known in the army, we
came into the camp an hour or two after, as if we had been only riding
abroad for the air.

This little rout made the general very cautious, for the Savoyards
were stronger in horse by three or four thousand, and the army always
marched in a body, and kept their parties in or very near hand.

I escaped another rub in this French army about five days after, which
had like to have made me pay dear for my curiosity.

The Duke de Montmorency and the Maréchal Schomberg joined their army
about four or five days after, and immediately, according to the
cardinal's instructions, put themselves on the march for the relief of
Casale.

The army had marched over a great plain, with some marshy grounds
on the right and the Po on the left, and as the country was so well
discovered that 'twas thought impossible any mischief should happen,
the generals observed the less caution. At the end of this plain was a
long wood and a lane or narrow defile through the middle of it.

Through this pass the army was to march, and the van began to file
through it about four o'clock. By three hours' time all the army was
got through, or into the pass, and the artillery was just entered
when the Duke of Savoy with 4000 horse and 1500 dragoons with every
horseman a footman behind him, whether he had swam the Po or passed it
above at a bridge, and made a long march after, was not examined, but
he came boldly up the plain and charged our rear with a great deal of
fury.

Our artillery was in the lane, and as it was impossible to turn them
about and make way for the army, so the rear was obliged to support
themselves and maintain the fight for above an hour and a half.

In this time we lost abundance of men, and if it had not been for two
accidents all that line had been cut off. One was, that the wood was
so near that those regiments which were disordered presently sheltered
themselves in the wood; the other was, that by this time the Maréchal
Schomberg, with the horse of the van, began to get back through the
lane, and to make good the ground from whence the other had been
beaten, till at last by this means it came to almost a pitched battle.

There were two regiments of French dragoons who did excellent service
in this action, and maintained their ground till they were almost all
killed.

Had the Duke of Savoy contented himself with the defeat of five
regiments on the right, which he quite broke and drove into the wood,
and with the slaughter and havoc which he had made among the rest,
he had come off with honour, and might have called it a victory; but
endeavouring to break the whole party and carry off some cannon, the
obstinate resistance of these few dragoons lost him his advantages,
and held him in play till so many fresh troops got through the pass
again as made us too strong for him, and had not night parted them he
had been entirely defeated.

At last, finding our troops increase and spread themselves on his
flank, he retired and gave over. We had no great stomach to pursue him
neither, though some horse were ordered to follow a little way.

The duke lost about a thousand men, and we almost twice as many, and
but for those dragoons had lost the whole rear-guard and half our
cannon. I was in a very sorry case in this action too. I was with the
rear in the regiment of horse of Perigoort, with a captain of which
regiment I had contracted some acquaintance. I would have rid off at
first, as the captain desired me, but there was no doing it, for the
cannon was in the lane, and the horse and dragoons of the van eagerly
pressing back through the lane must have run me down or carried me
with them. As for the wood, it was a good shelter to save one's life,
but was so thick there was no passing it on horseback.

Our regiment was one of the first that was broke, and being all in
confusion, with the Duke of Savoy's men at our heels, away we ran into
the wood. Never was there so much disorder among a parcel of runaways
as when we came to this wood; it was so exceeding bushy and thick at
the bottom there was no entering it, and a volley of small shot from
a regiment of Savoy's dragoons poured in upon us at our breaking into
the wood made terrible work among our horses.

For my part I was got into the wood, but was forced to quit my horse,
and by that means, with a great deal of difficulty, got a little
farther in, where there was a little open place, and being quite spent
with labouring among the bushes I sat down resolving to take my fate
there, let it be what it would, for I was not able to go any farther.
I had twenty or thirty more in the same condition come to me in less
than half-an-hour, and here we waited very securely the success of the
battle, which was as before.

It was no small relief to those with me to hear the Savoyards were
beaten, for otherwise they had all been lost; as for me, I confess,
I was glad as it was because of the danger, but otherwise I cared not
much which had the better, for I designed no service among them.

One kindness it did me, that I began to consider what I had to do
here, and as I could give but a very slender account of myself for
what it was I run all these risks, so I resolved they should fight it
among themselves, for I would come among them no more.

The captain with whom, as I noted above, I had contracted some
acquaintance in this regiment, was killed in this action, and the
French had really a great blow here, though they took care to conceal
it all they could; and I cannot, without smiling, read some of the
histories and memoirs of this action, which they are not ashamed to
call a victory.

We marched on to Saluzzo, and the next day the Duke of Savoy presented
himself in battalia on the other side of a small river, giving us a
fair challenge to pass and engage him. We always said in our camp that
the orders were to fight the Duke of Savoy wherever we met him; but
though he braved us in our view we did not care to engage him, but we
brought Saluzzo to surrender upon articles, which the duke could not
relieve without attacking our camp, which he did not care to do.

The next morning we had news of the surrender of Mantua to the
Imperial army. We heard of it first from the Duke of Savoy's cannon,
which he fired by way of rejoicing, and which seemed to make him
amends for the loss of Saluzzo.

As this was a mortification to the French, so it quite damped the
success of the campaign, for the Duke de Montmorency imagining that
the Imperial general would send immediate assistance to the Marquis
Spinola, who besieged Casale, they called frequent councils of war
what course to take, and at last resolved to halt in Piedmont. A few
days after their resolutions were changed again by the news of the
death of the Duke of Savoy, Charles Emanuel, who died, as some say,
agitated with the extremes of joy and grief.

This put our generals upon considering again whether they should march
to the relief of Casale, but the chimera of the Germans put them by,
and so they took up quarters in Piedmont. They took several small
places from the Duke of Savoy, making advantage of the consternation
the duke's subjects were in on the death of their prince, and spread
themselves from the seaside to the banks of the Po. But here an enemy
did that for them which the Savoyards could not, for the plague got
into their quarters and destroyed abundance of people, both of the
army and of the country.

I thought then it was time for me to be gone, for I had no manner of
courage for that risk; and I think verily I was more afraid of being
taken sick in a strange country than ever I was of being killed in
battle. Upon this resolution I procured a pass to go for Genoa, and
accordingly began my journey, but was arrested at Villa Franca by a
slow lingering fever, which held me about five days, and then turned
to a burning malignancy, and at last to the plague. My friend, the
captain, never left me night nor day; and though for four days more I
knew nobody, nor was capable of so much as thinking of myself, yet it
pleased God that the distemper gathered in my neck, swelled and broke.
During the swelling I was raging mad with the violence of pain, which
being so near my head swelled that also in proportion, that my eyes
were swelled up, and for the twenty-four hours my tongue and mouth;
then, as my servant told me, all the physicians gave me over, as past
all remedy, but by the good providence of God the swelling broke.

The prodigious collection of matter which this swelling discharged
gave me immediate relief, and I became sensible in less than an hour's
time; and in two hours or thereabouts fell into a little slumber which
recovered my spirits and sensibly revived me. Here I lay by it till
the middle of September. My captain fell sick after me, but recovered
quickly. His man had the plague, and died in two days; my man held it
out well.

About the middle of September we heard of a truce concluded between
all parties, and being unwilling to winter at Villa Franca, I got
passes, and though we were both but weak, we began to travel in
litters for Milan.

And here I experienced the truth of an old English proverb, that
standers-by see more than the gamesters.

The French, Savoyards, and Spaniards made this peace or truce all for
separate and several grounds, and every one were mistaken.

The French yielded to it because they had given over the relief of
Casale, and were very much afraid it would fall into the hands of the
Marquis Spinola. The Savoyards yielded to it because they were afraid
the French would winter in Piedmont; the Spaniards yielded to it
because the Duke of Savoy being dead, and the Count de Colalto, the
Imperial general, giving no assistance, and his army weakened by
sickness and the fatigues of the siege, he foresaw he should never
take the town, and wanted but to come off with honour.

The French were mistaken, because really Spinola was so weak that had
they marched on into Montferrat the Spaniards must have raised the
siege; the Duke of Savoy was mistaken, because the plague had so
weakened the French that they durst not have stayed to winter in
Piedmont; and Spinola was mistaken, for though he was very slow, if he
had stayed before the town one fortnight longer, Thoiras the governor
must have surrendered, being brought to the last extremity.

Of all these mistakes the French had the advantage, for Casale, was
relieved, the army had time to be recruited, and the French had the
best of it by an early campaign.

I passed through Montferrat in my way to Milan just as the truce was
declared, and saw the miserable remains of the Spanish army, who by
sickness, fatigue, hard duty, the sallies of the garrison and such
like consequences, were reduced to less than 2000 men, and of them
above 1000 lay wounded and sick in the camp.

Here were several regiments which I saw drawn out to their arms that
could not make up above seventy or eighty men, officers and all, and
those half starved with hunger, almost naked, and in a lamentable
condition. From thence I went into the town, and there things were
still in a worse condition, the houses beaten down, the walls and
works ruined, the garrison, by continual duty, reduced from 4500 men
to less than 800, without clothes, money, or provisions, the brave
governor weak with continual fatigue, and the whole face of things in
a miserable case.

The French generals had just sent them 30,000 crowns for present
supply, which heartened them a little, but had not the truce been made
as it was, they must have surrendered upon what terms the Spaniards
had pleased to make them.

Never were two armies in such fear of one another with so little
cause; the Spaniards afraid of the French whom the plague had
devoured, and the French afraid of the Spaniards whom the siege had
almost ruined.

The grief of this mistake, together with the sense of his master,
the Spaniards, leaving him without supplies to complete the siege of
Casale, so affected the Marquis Spinola, that he died for grief, and
in him fell the last of that rare breed of Low Country soldiers, who
gave the world so great and just a character of the Spanish infantry,
as the best soldiers of the world; a character which we see them so
very much degenerated from since, that they hardly deserve the name of
soldiers.

I tarried at Milan the rest of the winter, both for the recovery of my
health, and also for supplies from England.

Here it was I first heard the name of Gustavus Adolphus, the king of
Sweden, who now began his war with the emperor; and while the king
of France was at Lyons, the league with Sweden was made, in which the
French contributed 1,200,000 crowns in money, and 600,000 per annum
to the attempt of Gustavus Adolphus. About this time he landed in
Pomerania, took the towns of Stettin and Stralsund, and from thence
proceeded in that prodigious manner of which I shall have occasion to
be very particular in the prosecution of these Memoirs.

I had indeed no thoughts of seeing that king or his armies. I had
been so roughly handled already, that I had given over the thoughts
of appearing among the fighting people, and resolved in the spring
to pursue my journey to Venice, and so for the rest of Italy. Yet
I cannot deny that as every Gazette gave us some accounts of the
conquests and victories of this glorious prince, it prepossessed my
thoughts with secret wishes of seeing him, but these were so young
and unsettled, that I drew no resolutions from them for a long while
after.

About the middle of January I left Milan and came to Genoa, from
thence by sea to Leghorn, then to Naples, Rome, and Venice, but saw
nothing in Italy that gave me any diversion.

As for what is modern, I saw nothing but lewdness, private murders,
stabbing men at the corner of a street, or in the dark, hiring of
bravos, and the like. These were to me the modern excellencies of
Italy; and I had no gust to antiquities.

'Twas pleasant indeed when I was at Rome to say here stood the
Capitol, there the Colossus of Nero, here was the Amphitheatre of
Titus, there the Aqueduct of----, here the Forum, there the Catacombs,
here the Temple of Venus, there of Jupiter, here the Pantheon, and the
like; but I never designed to write a book. As much as was useful I
kept in my head, and for the rest, I left it to others.

I observed the people degenerated from the ancient glorious
inhabitants, who were generous, brave, and the most valiant of all
nations, to a vicious baseness of soul, barbarous, treacherous,
jealous and revengeful, lewd and cowardly, intolerably proud and
haughty, bigoted to blind, incoherent devotion, and the grossest of
idolatry.

Indeed, I think the unsuitableness of the people made the place
unpleasant to me, for there is so little in a country to recommend it
when the people disgrace it, that no beauties of the creation can make
up for the want of those excellencies which suitable society procure
the defect of. This made Italy a very unpleasant country to me;
the people were the foil to the place, all manner of hateful vices
reigning in their general way of living.

I confess I was not very religious myself, and being come abroad into
the world young enough, might easily have been drawn into evils that
had recommended themselves with any tolerable agreeableness to nature
and common manners; but when wickedness presented itself full-grown in
its grossest freedoms and liberties, it quite took away all the gust
to vice that the devil had furnished me with.

The prodigious stupid bigotry of the people also was irksome to me; I
thought there was something in it very sordid. The entire empire the
priests have over both the souls and bodies of the people, gave me a
specimen of that meanness of spirit, which is nowhere else to be seen
but in Italy, especially in the city of Rome.

At Venice I perceived it quite different, the civil authority having
a visible superiority over the ecclesiastic, and the Church being more
subject there to the State than in any other part of Italy.

For these reasons I took no pleasure in filling my memoirs of Italy
with remarks of places or things. All the antiquities and valuable
remains of the Roman nation are done better than I can pretend to by
such people who made it more their business; as for me, I went to see,
and not to write, and as little thought then of these Memoirs as I ill
furnished myself to write them.

I left Italy in April, and taking the tour of Bavaria, though very
much out of the way, I passed through Munich, Passau, Lintz, and at
last to Vienna.

I came to Vienna the 10th of April 1631, intending to have gone from
thence down the Danube into Hungary, and by means of a pass, which I
had obtained from the English ambassador at Constantinople, I designed
to have seen all the great towns on the Danube, which were then in the
hands of the Turks, and which I had read much of in the history of
the war between the Turks and the Germans; but I was diverted from my
design by the following occasion.

There had been a long bloody war in the empire of Germany for twelve
years, between the emperor, the Duke of Bavaria, the King of
Spain, and the Popish princes and electors on the one side, and the
Protestant princes on the other; and both sides having been exhausted
by the war, and even the Catholics themselves beginning to dislike the
growing power of the house of Austria, 'twas thought all parties were
willing to make peace. Nay, things were brought to that pass that some
of the Popish princes and electors began to talk of making alliances
with the King of Sweden.

Here it is necessary to observe, that the two Dukes of Mecklenburg
having been dispossessed of most of their dominions by the tyranny
of the Emperor Ferdinand, and being in danger of losing the rest,
earnestly solicited the King of Sweden to come to their assistance;
and that prince, as he was related to the house of Mecklenburg, and
especially as he was willing to lay hold of any opportunity to break
with the emperor, against whom he had laid up an implacable prejudice,
was very ready and forward to come to their assistance.

The reasons of his quarrel with the emperor were grounded upon the
Imperialists concerning themselves in the war of Poland, where the
emperor had sent 8000 foot and 2000 horse to join the Polish army
against the king, and had thereby given some check to his arms in that
war.

In pursuance, therefore, of his resolution to quarrel with the
emperor, but more particularly at the instances of the princes
above-named, his Swedish Majesty had landed the year before at
Stralsund with about 12,000 men, and having joined with some forces
which he had left in Polish Prussia, all which did not make 30,000
men, he began a war with the emperor, the greatest in event, filled
with the most famous battles, sieges, and extraordinary actions,
including its wonderful success and happy conclusion, of any war ever
maintained in the world.

The King of Sweden had already taken Stettin, Stralsund, Rostock,
Wismar, and all the strong places on the Baltic, and began to spread
himself in Germany. He had made a league with the French, as I
observed in my story of Saxony; he had now made a treaty with the Duke
of Brandenburg, and, in short, began to be terrible to the empire.

In this conjuncture the emperor called the General Diet of the empire
to be held at Ratisbon, where, as was pretended, all sides were
to treat of peace and to join forces to beat the Swedes out of the
empire. Here the emperor, by a most exquisite management, brought the
affairs of the Diet to a conclusion, exceedingly to his own advantage,
and to the farther oppression of the Protestants; and, in particular,
in that the war against the King of Sweden was to be carried on in
such manner as that the whole burden and charge would lie on the
Protestants themselves, and they be made the instruments to oppose
their best friends. Other matters also ended equally to their
disadvantage, as the methods resolved on to recover the Church lands,
and to prevent the education of the Protestant clergy; and what
remained was referred to another General Diet to be held at
Frankfort-au-Main in August 1631.

I won't pretend to say the other Protestant princes of Germany had
never made any overtures to the King of Sweden to come to their
assistance, but 'tis plain they had entered into no league with him;
that appears from the difficulties which retarded the fixing of the
treaties afterward, both with the Dukes of Brandenburg and Saxony,
which unhappily occasioned the ruin of Magdeburg.

But 'tis plain the Swede was resolved on a war with the emperor. His
Swedish majesty might, and indeed could not but foresee that if he
once showed himself with a sufficient force on the frontiers of the
empire, all the Protestant princes would be obliged by their interest
or by his arms to fall in with him, and this the consequence made
appear to be a just conclusion, for the Electors of Brandenburg and
Saxony were both forced to join with him.

First, they were willing to join with him--at least they could not
find in their hearts to join with the emperor, of whose power they
had such just apprehensions. They wished the Swedes success, and would
have been very glad to have had the work done at another man's charge,
but, like true Germans, they were more willing to be saved than to
save themselves, and therefore hung back and stood upon terms.

Secondly, they were at last forced to it. The first was forced to join
by the King of Sweden himself, who being come so far was not to be
dallied with, and had not the Duke of Brandenburg complied as he did,
he had been ruined by the Swede. The Saxon was driven into the arms
of the Swede by force, for Count Tilly, ravaging his country, made him
comply with any terms to be saved from destruction.

Thus matters stood at the end of the Diet at Ratisbon. The King
of Sweden began to see himself leagued against at the Diet both by
Protestant and Papist; and, as I have often heard his Majesty say
since, he had resolved to try to force them off from the emperor, and
to treat them as enemies equally with the rest if they did not.

But the Protestants convinced him soon after, that though they
were tricked into the outward appearance of a league against him at
Ratisbon, they had no such intentions; and by their ambassadors to him
let him know that they only wanted his powerful assistance to defend
their councils, when they would soon convince him that they had a due
sense of the emperor's designs, and would do their utmost for their
liberty. And these I take to be the first invitations the King of
Sweden had to undertake the Protestant cause as such, and which
entitled him to say he fought for the liberty and religion of the
German nation.

I have had some particular opportunities to hear these things form the
mouths of some of the very princes themselves, and therefore am the
forwarder to relate them; and I place them here because, previous
to the part I acted on this bloody scene, 'tis necessary to let the
reader into some part of that story, and to show him in what manner
and on what occasions this terrible war began.

The Protestants, alarmed at the usage they had met with at the former
Diet, had secretly proposed among themselves to form a general union
or confederacy, for preventing that ruin which they saw, unless some
speedy remedies were applied, would be inevitable. The Elector of
Saxony, the head of the Protestants, a vigorous and politic prince,
was the first that moved it; and the Landgrave of Hesse, a zealous and
gallant prince, being consulted with, it rested a great while between
those two, no method being found practicable to bring it to pass, the
emperor being so powerful in all parts, that they foresaw the petty
princes would not dare to negotiate an affair of such a nature,
being surrounded with the Imperial forces, who by their two generals,
Wallenstein and Tilly, kept them in continual subjection and terror.

This dilemma had like to have stifled the thoughts of the union as
a thing impracticable, when one Seigensius, a Lutheran minister, a
person of great abilities, and one whom the Elector of Saxony made
great use of in matters of policy as well as religion, contrived for
them this excellent expedient.

I had the honour to be acquainted with this gentleman while I was at
Leipsic. It pleased him exceedingly to have been the contriver of so
fine a structure as the Conclusions of Leipsic, and he was glad to be
entertained on that subject. I had the relation from his own mouth,
when, but very modestly, he told me he thought 'twas an inspiration
darted on a sudden into his thoughts, when the Duke of Saxony calling
him into his closet one morning, with a face full of concern, shaking
his head, and looking very earnestly, "What will become of us,
doctor?" said the duke; "we shall all be undone at Frankfort-au-Main."
"Why so, please your highness?" says the doctor. "Why, they will fight
with the King of Sweden with our armies and our money," says the duke,
"and devour our friends and ourselves by the help of our friends and
ourselves." "But what is become of the confederacy, then," said the
doctor, "which your highness had so happily framed in your thoughts,
and which the Landgrave of Hesse was so pleased with?" "Become of it?"
says the duke, "'tis a good thought enough, but 'tis impossible to
bring it to pass among so many members of the Protestant princes as
are to be consulted with, for we neither have time to treat, nor will
half of them dare to negotiate the matter, the Imperialists being
quartered in their very bowels." "But may not some expedient be found
out," says the doctor, "to bring them all together to treat of it in
a general meeting?" "'Tis well proposed," says the duke, "but in what
town or city shall they assemble where the very deputies shall not
be besieged by Tilly or Wallenstein in fourteen days' time, and
sacrificed to the cruelty and fury of the Emperor Ferdinand?" "Will
your highness be the easier in it," replies the doctor, "if a way may
be found out to call such an assembly upon other causes, at which the
emperor may have no umbrage, and perhaps give his assent? You know the
Diet at Frankfort is at hand; 'tis necessary the Protestants should
have an assembly of their own to prepare matters for the General Diet,
and it may be no difficult matter to obtain it." The duke, surprised
with joy at the motion, embraced the doctor with an extraordinary
transport. "Thou hast done it, doctor," said he, and immediately
caused him to draw a form of a letter to the emperor, which he did
with the utmost dexterity of style, in which he was a great master,
representing to his Imperial Majesty that, in order to put an end to
the troubles of Germany, his Majesty would be pleased to permit the
Protestant princes of the empire to hold a Diet to themselves, to
consider of such matters as they were to treat of at the General
Diet, in order to conform themselves to the will and pleasure of his
Imperial Majesty, to drive out foreigners, and settle a lasting peace
in the empire. He also insinuated something of their resolutions
unanimously to give their suffrages in favour of the King of Hungary
at the election of a king of the Romans, a thing which he knew the
emperor had in his thought, and would push at with all his might at
the Diet. This letter was sent, and the bait so neatly concealed, that
the Electors of Bavaria and Mentz, the King of Hungary, and several
of the Popish princes, not foreseeing that the ruin of them all lay in
the bottom of it, foolishly advised the emperor to consent to it.

In consenting to this the emperor signed his own destruction, for here
began the conjunction of the German Protestants with the Swede, which
was the fatalest blow to Ferdinand, and which he could never recover.

Accordingly the Diet was held at Leipsic, February 8, 1630, where the
Protestants agreed on several heads for their mutual defence,
which were the grounds of the following war. These were the famous
Conclusions of Leipsic, which so alarmed the emperor and the whole
empire, that to crush it in the beginning, the emperor commanded Count
Tilly immediately to fall upon the Landgrave of Hesse and the Duke of
Saxony as the principal heads of the union; but it was too late.

The Conclusions were digested into ten heads:--

1. That since their sins had brought God's judgments upon the whole
Protestant Church, they should command public prayers to be made to
Almighty God for the diverting the calamities that attended them.

2. That a treaty of peace might be set on foot, in order to come to a
right understanding with the Catholic princes.

3. That a time for such a treaty being obtained, they should appoint
an assembly of delegates to meet preparatory to the treaty.

4. That all their complaints should be humbly represented to his
Imperial Majesty and the Catholic Electors, in order to a peaceable
accommodation.

5. That they claim the protection of the emperor, according to the
laws of the empire, and the present emperor's solemn oath and promise.

6. That they would appoint deputies who should meet at certain
times to consult of their common interest, and who should be always
empowered to conclude of what should be thought needful for their
safety.

7. That they will raise a competent force to maintain and defend their
liberties, rights, and religion.

8. That it is agreeable to the Constitution of the empire, concluded
in the Diet at Augsburg, to do so.

9. That the arming for their necessary defence shall by no means
hinder their obedience to his Imperial Majesty, but that they will
still continue their loyalty to him.

10. They agree to proportion their forces, which in all amounted to
70,000 men.

The emperor, exceedingly startled at the Conclusions, issued out a
severe proclamation or ban against them, which imported much the
same thing as a declaration of war, and commanded Tilly to begin,
and immediately to fall on the Duke of Saxony with all the fury
imaginable, as I have already observed.

Here began the flame to break out; for upon the emperor's ban, the
Protestants send away to the King of Sweden for succour.

His Swedish Majesty had already conquered Mecklenburg, and part of
Pomerania, and was advancing with his victorious troops, increased
by the addition of some regiments raised in those parts, in order to
carry on the war against the emperor, having designed to follow up
the Oder into Silesia, and so to push the war home to the emperor's
hereditary countries of Austria and Bohemia, when the first messengers
came to him in this case; but this changed his measures, and brought
him to the frontiers of Brandenburg resolved to answer the desires
of the Protestants. But here the Duke of Brandenburg began to halt,
making some difficulties and demanding terms, which drove the king to
use some extremities with him, and stopped the Swedes for a while,
who had otherwise been on the banks of the Elbe as soon as Tilly,
the Imperial general, had entered Saxony, which if they had done, the
miserable destruction of Magdeburg had been prevented, as I observed
before. The king had been invited into the union, and when he first
came back from the banks of the Oder he had accepted it, and was
preparing to back it with all his power.

The Duke of Saxony had already a good army which he had with infinite
diligence recruited, and mustered them under the cannon of Leipsic.
The King of Sweden having, by his ambassador at Leipsic, entered into
the union of the Protestants, was advancing victoriously to their aid,
just as Count Tilly had entered the Duke of Saxony's dominions. The
fame of the Swedish conquests, and of the hero who commanded them,
shook my resolution of travelling into Turkey, being resolved to see
the conjunction of the Protestant armies, and before the fire was
broke out too far to take the advantage of seeing both sides.

While I remained at Vienna, uncertain which way I should proceed, I
remember I observed they talked of the King of Sweden as a prince of
no consideration, one that they might let go on and tire himself in
Mecklenburg and thereabout, till they could find leisure to deal with
him, and then might be crushed as they pleased; but 'tis never safe
to despise an enemy, so this was not an enemy to be despised, as they
afterwards found.

As to the Conclusions of Leipsic, indeed, at first they gave the
Imperial court some uneasiness, but when they found the Imperial
armies, began to fright the members out of the union, and that the
several branches had no considerable forces on foot, it was the
general discourse at Vienna, that the union at Leipsic only gave
the emperor an opportunity to crush absolutely the Dukes of Saxony,
Brandenburg, and the Landgrave of Hesse, and they looked upon it as a
thing certain.

I never saw any real concern in their faces at Vienna till news came
to court that the King of Sweden had entered into the union; but as
this made them very uneasy, they began to move the powerfulest methods
possible to divert this storm; and upon this news Tilly was hastened
to fall into Saxony before this union could proceed to a conjunction
of forces. This was certainly a very good resolution, and no measure
could have been more exactly concerted, had not the diligence of the
Saxons prevented it.

The gathering of this storm, which from a cloud began to spread over
the empire, and from the little duchy of Mecklenburg began to threaten
all Germany, absolutely determined me, as I noted before, as to
travelling, and laying aside the thoughts of Hungary, I resolved, if
possible, to see the King of Sweden's army.

I parted from Vienna the middle of May, and took post for Great Glogau
in Silesia, as if I had purposed to pass into Poland, but designing
indeed to go down the Oder to Custrim in the marquisate of
Brandenburg, and so to Berlin. But when I came to the frontiers of
Silesia, though I had passes, I could go no farther, the guards on
all the frontiers were so strict, so I was obliged to come back into
Bohemia, and went to Prague. From hence I found I could easily pass
through the Imperial provinces to the lower Saxony, and accordingly
took passes for Hamburg, designing, however, to use them no farther
than I found occasion.

By virtue of these passes I got into the Imperial army, under Count
Tilly, then at the siege of Magdeburg, May the 2nd.

I confess I did not foresee the fate of this city, neither, I believe,
did Count Tilly himself expect to glut his fury with so entire a
desolation, much less did the people expect it. I did believe they
must capitulate, and I perceived by discourse in the army that Tilly
would give them but very indifferent conditions; but it fell out
otherwise. The treaty of surrender was, as it were, begun, nay, some
say concluded, when some of the out-guards of the Imperialists finding
the citizens had abandoned the guards of the works, and looked to
themselves with less diligence than usual, they broke in, carried an
half-moon, sword in hand, with little resistance; and though it was
a surprise on both sides, the citizens neither fearing, nor the army
expecting the occasion, the garrison, with as much resolution as could
be expected under such a fright, flew to the walls, twice beat the
Imperialists off, but fresh men coming up, and the administrator of
Magdeburg himself being wounded and taken, the enemy broke in, took
the city by storm, and entered with such terrible fury, that,
without respect to age or condition, they put all the garrison and
inhabitants, man, woman, and child, to the sword, plundered the city,
and when they had done this set it on fire.

This calamity sure was the dreadfulest sight that ever I saw; the
rage of the Imperial soldiers was most intolerable, and not to be
expressed. Of 25,000, some said 30,000 people, there was not a soul to
be seen alive, till the flames drove those that were hid in vaults and
secret places to seek death in the streets rather than perish in the
fire. Of these miserable creatures some were killed too by the furious
soldiers, but at last they saved the lives of such as came out of
their cellars and holes, and so about two thousand poor desperate
creatures were left. The exact number of those that perished in
this city could never be known, because those the soldiers had first
butchered the flames afterwards devoured.

I was on the outer side of the Elbe when this dreadful piece of
butchery was done. The city of Magdeburg had a sconce or fort over
against it called the toll-house, which joined to the city by a very
fine bridge of boats. This fort was taken by the Imperialists a few
days before, and having a mind to see it, and the rather because from
thence I could have a very good view of the city, I was going over
Tilley's bridge of boats to view this fort. About ten o'clock in the
morning I perceived they were storming by the firing, and immediately
all ran to the works; I little thought of the taking the city, but
imagined it might be some outwork attacked, for we all expected
the city would surrender that day, or next, and they might have
capitulated upon very good terms.

Being upon the works of the fort, on a sudden I heard the dreadfulest
cry raised in the city that can be imagined; 'tis not possible to
express the manner of it, and I could see the women and children
running about the streets in a most lamentable condition.

The city wall did not run along the side where the river was with
so great a height, but we could plainly see the market-place and the
several streets which run down to the river. In about an hour's time
after this first cry all was in confusion; there was little shooting,
the execution was all cutting of throats and mere house murders. The
resolute garrison, with the brave Baron Falkenberg, fought it out
to the last, and were cut in pieces, and by this time the Imperial
soldiers having broke open the gates and entered on all sides, the
slaughter was very dreadful. We could see the poor people in crowds
driven down the streets, flying from the fury of the soldiers, who
followed butchering them as fast as they could, and refused mercy to
anybody, till driving them to the river's edge, the desperate wretches
would throw themselves into the river, where thousands of them
perished, especially women and children. Several men that could swim
got over to our side, where the soldiers not heated with fight gave
them quarter, and took them up, and I cannot but do this justice to
the German officers in the fort: they had five small flat boats, and
they gave leave to the soldiers to go off in them, and get what booty
they could, but charged them not to kill anybody, but take them all
prisoners.

Nor was their humanity ill rewarded, for the soldiers, wisely avoiding
those places where their fellows were employed in butchering the
miserable people, rowed to other places, where crowds of people stood
crying out for help, and expecting to be every minute either drowned
or murdered; of these at sundry times they fetched over near six
hundred, but took care to take in none but such as offered them good
pay.

Never was money or jewels of greater service than now, for those that
had anything of that sort to offer were soonest helped.

There was a burgher of the town who, seeing a boat coming near him,
but out of his call, by the help of a speaking trumpet, told the
soldiers in it he would give them 20,000 dollars to fetch him off.
They rowed close to the shore, and got him with his wife and six
children into the boat, but such throngs of people got about the boat
that had like to have sunk her, so that the soldiers were fain to
drive a great many out again by main force, and while they were doing
this some of the enemies coming down the street desperately drove them
all into the water.

The boat, however, brought the burgher and his wife and children safe,
and though they had not all that wealth about them, yet in jewels and
money he gave them so much as made all the fellows very rich.

I cannot pretend to describe the cruelty of this day: the town by
five in the afternoon was all in a flame; the wealth consumed was
inestimable, and a loss to the very conqueror. I think there was
little or nothing left but the great church and about a hundred
houses.

This was a sad welcome into the army for me, and gave me a horror and
aversion to the emperor's people, as well as to his cause. I quitted
the camp the third day after this execution, while the fire was hardly
out in the city; and from thence getting safe-conduct to pass into the
Palatinate, I turned out of the road at a small village on the Elbe,
called Emerfield, and by ways and towns I can give but small account
of, having a boor for our guide, whom we could hardly understand, I
arrived at Leipsic on the 17th of May.

We found the elector intense upon the strengthening of his army, but
the people in the greatest terror imaginable, every day expecting
Tilly with the German army, who by his cruelty at Magdeburg was become
so dreadful to the Protestants that they expected no mercy wherever he
came.

The emperor's power was made so formidable to all the Protestants,
particularly since the Diet at Ratisbon left them in a worse case
than it found them, that they had not only formed the Conclusions of
Leipsic, which all men looked on as the effect of desperation rather
than any probable means of their deliverance, but had privately
implored the protection and assistance of foreign powers, and
particularly the King of Sweden, from whom they had promises of a
speedy and powerful assistance. And truly if the Swede had not with
a very strong hand rescued them, all their Conclusions at Leipsic had
served but to hasten their ruin. I remember very well when I was in
the Imperial army they discoursed with such contempt of the forces
of the Protestant, that not only the Imperialists but the Protestants
themselves gave them up as lost. The emperor had not less than 200,000
men in several armies on foot, who most of them were on the back of
the Protestants in every corner. If Tilly did but write a threatening
letter to any city or prince of the union, they presently submitted,
renounced the Conclusions of Leipsic, and received Imperial garrisons,
as the cities of Ulm and Memmingen, the duchy of Wirtemberg, and
several others, and almost all Suaben.

Only the Duke of Saxony and the Landgrave of Hesse upheld the drooping
courage of the Protestants, and refused all terms of peace, slighted
all the threatenings of the Imperial generals, and the Duke of
Brandenburg was brought in afterward almost by force.

The Duke of Saxony mustered his forces under the walls of Leipsic,
and I having returned to Leipsic, two days before, saw them pass the
review. The duke, gallantly mounted, rode through the ranks, attended
by his field-marshal Arnheim, and seemed mighty well pleased with
them, and indeed the troops made a very fine appearance; but I that
had seen Tilly's army and his old weather-beaten soldiers, whose
discipline and exercises were so exact, and their courage so often
tried, could not look on the Saxon army without some concern for them
when I considered who they had to deal with. Tilly's men were rugged
surly fellows, their faces had an air of hardy courage, mangled with
wounds and scars, their armour showed the bruises of musket bullets,
and the rust of the winter storms. I observed of them their clothes
were always dirty, but their arms were clean and bright; they were
used to camp in the open fields, and sleep in the frosts and rain;
their horses were strong and hardy like themselves, and well taught
their exercises; the soldiers knew their business so exactly that
general orders were enough; every private man was fit to command, and
their wheelings, marchings, counter-marchings and exercise were done
with such order and readiness, that the distinct words of command
were hardly of any use among them; they were flushed with victory, and
hardly knew what it was to fly.

There had passed some messages between Tilly and the duke, and he gave
always such ambiguous answers as he thought might serve to gain time;
but Tilly was not to be put off with words, and drawing his army
towards Saxony, sends four propositions to him to sign, and demands an
immediate reply. The propositions were positive.

1. To cause his troops to enter into the emperor's service, and to
march in person with them against the King of Sweden.

2. To give the Imperial army quarters in his country, and supply them
with necessary provisions.

3. To relinquish the union of Leipsic, and disown the ten Conclusions.

4. To make restitution of the goods and lands of the Church.

The duke being pressed by Tilly's trumpeter for an immediate answer
sat all night, and part of the next day, in council with his privy
councillors, debating what reply to give him, which at last was
concluded, in short, that he would live and die in defence of the
Protestant religion, and the Conclusions of Leipsic, and bade Tilly
defiance.

The die being thus cast, he immediately decamped with his whole army
for Torgau, fearing that Tilly should get there before him, and so
prevent his conjunction with the Swede. The duke had not yet concluded
any positive treaty with the King of Swedeland, and the Duke of
Brandenburg having made some difficulty of joining, they both stood
on some niceties till they had like to have ruined themselves all at
once.

Brandenburg had given up the town of Spandau to the king by a former
treaty to secure a retreat for his army, and the king was advanced
as far as Frankfort-upon-the-Oder, when on a sudden some small
difficulties arising, Brandenburg seems cold in the matter, and with
a sort of indifference demands to have his town of Spandau restored to
him again. Gustavus Adolphus, who began presently to imagine the duke
had made his peace with the emperor, and so would either be his enemy
or pretend a neutrality, generously delivered him his town of Spandau,
but immediately turns about, and with his whole army besieges him in
his capital city of Berlin. This brought the duke to know his error,
and by the interpositions of the ladies, the Queen of Sweden being the
duke's sister, the matter was accommodated, and the duke joined his
forces with the king.

But the duke of Saxony had like to have been undone by this delay,
for the Imperialists, under Count de Furstenberg, were entered his
country, and had possessed themselves of Halle, and Tilly was on
his march to join him, as he afterwards did, and ravaging the
whole country laid siege to Leipsic itself. The duke driven to this
extremity rather flies to the Swede than treats with him, and on the
2nd of September the duke's army joined with the King of Sweden.

I had not come to Leipsic but to see the Duke of Saxony's army, and
that being marched, as I have said, for Torgau, I had no business
there, but if I had, the approach of Tilly and the Imperial army was
enough to hasten me away, for I had no occasion to be besieged there;
so on the 27th of August I left the town, as several of the principal
inhabitants had done before, and more would have done had not the
governor published a proclamation against it, and besides they knew
not whither to fly, for all places were alike exposed. The poor people
were under dreadful apprehensions of a siege, and of the merciless
usage of the Imperial soldiers, the example of Magdeburg being fresh
before them, the duke and his army gone from them, and the town,
though well furnished, but indifferently fortified.

In this condition I left them, buying up stores of provisions,
working hard to scour their moats, set up palisadoes, repair their
fortifications, and preparing all things for a siege; and following
the Saxon army to Torgau, I continued in the camp till a few days
before they joined the King of Sweden.

I had much ado to persuade my companion from entering into the
service of the Duke of Saxony, one of whose colonels, with whom we had
contracted a particular acquaintance, offering him a commission to be
cornet in one of the old regiments of horse; but the difference I had
observed between this new army and Tilly's old troops had made such
an impression on me, that I confess I had yet no manner of inclination
for the service, and therefore persuaded him to wait a while till we
had seen a little further into affairs, and particularly till we had
seen the Swedish army which we had heard so much of.

The difficulties which the Elector-Duke of Saxony made of joining with
the king were made up by a treaty concluded with the king on the 2nd
of September at Coswig, a small town on the Elbe, whither the king's
army was arrived the night before; for General Tilly being now entered
into the duke's country, had plundered and ruined all the lower part
of it, and was now actually besieging the capital city of Leipsic.
These necessities made almost any conditions easy to him; the greatest
difficulty was that the King of Sweden demanded the absolute command
of the army, which the duke submitted to with less goodwill than he
had reason to do, the king's experience and conduct considered.

I had not patience to attend the conclusions of their particular
treaties, but as soon as ever the passage was clear I quitted the
Saxon camp and went to see the Swedish army. I fell in with the
out-guards of the Swedes at a little town called Beltsig, on the river
Wersa, just as they were relieving the guards and going to march, and
having a pass from the English ambassador was very well received by
the officer who changed the guards, and with him I went back into
the army. By nine in the morning the army was in full march, the king
himself at the head of them on a grey pad, and riding from one brigade
to another, ordered the march of every line himself.

When I saw the Swedish troops, their exact discipline, their order,
the modesty and familiarity of their officers, and the regular living
of the soldiers, their camp seemed a well-ordered city; the meanest
country woman with her market ware was as safe from violence as in the
streets of Vienna. There were no women in the camp but such as being
known to the provosts to be the wives of the soldiers, who were
necessary for washing linen, taking care of the soldiers' clothes, and
dressing their victuals.

The soldiers were well clad, not gay, furnished with excellent arms,
and exceedingly careful of them; and though they did not seem so
terrible as I thought Tilly's men did when I first saw them, yet the
figure they made, together with what we had heard of them, made them
seem to me invincible: the discipline and order of their marchings,
camping, and exercise was excellent and singular, and, which was to
be seen in no armies but the king's, his own skill, judgment, and
vigilance having added much to the general conduct of armies then in
use.

As I met the Swedes on their march I had no opportunity to acquaint
myself with anybody till after the conjunction of the Saxon army,
and then it being but four days to the great battle of Leipsic, our
acquaintance was but small, saving what fell out accidentally by
conversation.

I met with several gentlemen in the king's army who spoke English very
well; besides that there were three regiments of Scots in the army,
the colonels whereof I found were extraordinarily esteemed by the
king, as the Lord Reay, Colonel Lumsdell, and Sir John Hepburn. The
latter of these, after I had by an accident become acquainted with, I
found had been for many years acquainted with my father, and on that
account I received a great deal of civility from him, which afterwards
grew into a kind of intimate friendship. He was a complete soldier
indeed, and for that reason so well beloved by that gallant king, that
he hardly knew how to go about any great action without him.

It was impossible for me now to restrain my young comrade from
entering into the Swedish service, and indeed everything was so
inviting that I could not blame him. A captain in Sir John Hepburn's
regiment had picked acquaintance with him, and he having as much
gallantry in his face as real courage in his heart, the captain had
persuaded him to take service, and promised to use his interest to get
him a company in the Scotch brigade. I had made him promise me not
to part from me in my travels without my consent, which was the only
obstacle to his desires of entering into the Swedish pay; and being
one evening in the captain's tent with him and discoursing very freely
together, the captain asked him very short but friendly, and looking
earnestly at me, "Is this the gentleman, Mr Fielding, that has done
so much prejudice to the King of Sweden's service?" I was doubly
surprised at the expression, and at the colonel, Sir John Hepburn,
coming at that very moment into the tent. The colonel hearing
something of the question, but knowing nothing of the reason of it,
any more than as I seemed a little to concern myself at it, yet after
the ceremony due to his character was over, would needs know what I
had done to hinder his Majesty's service. "So much truly," says the
captain, "that if his Majesty knew it he would think himself very
little beholden to him." "I am sorry, sir," said I, "that I should
offend in anything, who am but a stranger; but if you would please to
inform me, I would endeavour to alter anything in my behaviour that is
prejudicial to any one, much less to his Majesty's service." "I shall
take you at your word, sir," says the captain; "the King of Sweden,
sir, has a particular request to you." "I should be glad to know two
things, sir," said I; "first, how that can be possible, since I am
not yet known to any man in the army, much less to his Majesty? and
secondly, what the request can be?" "Why, sir, his Majesty desires you
would not hinder this gentleman from entering into his service, who
it seems desires nothing more, if he may have your consent to it." "I
have too much honour for his Majesty," returned I, "to deny anything
which he pleases to command me; but methinks 'tis some hardship you
should make that the king's order, which 'tis very probable he knows
nothing of." Sir John Hepburn took the case up something gravely, and
drinking a glass of Leipsic beer to the captain, said, "Come, captain,
don't press these gentlemen; the king desires no man's service but
what is purely volunteer." So we entered into other discourse, and the
colonel perceiving by my talk that I had seen Tilly's army, was mighty
curious in his questions, and seeming very well satisfied with the
account I gave him.

The next day the army having passed the Elbe at Wittenberg, and joined
the Saxon army near Torgau, his Majesty caused both armies to draw
up in battalia, giving every brigade the same post in the lines as he
purposed to fight in. I must do the memory of that glorious general
this honour, that I never saw an army drawn up with so much variety,
order, and exact regularity since, though I have seen many armies
drawn up by some of the greatest captains of the age. The order by
which his men were directed to flank and relieve one another, the
methods of receiving one body of men if disordered into another, and
rallying one squadron without disordering another was so admirable;
the horse everywhere flanked lined and defended by the foot, and the
foot by the horse, and both by the cannon, was such that if those
orders were but as punctually obeyed, 'twere impossible to put an army
so modelled into any confusion.

The view being over, and the troops returned to their camps, the
captain with whom we drank the day before meeting me told me I must
come and sup with him in his tent, where he would ask my pardon for
the affront he gave me before. I told him he needed not put himself
to the trouble, I was not affronted at all; that I would do myself the
honour to wait on him, provided he would give me his word not to speak
any more of it as an affront.

We had not been a quarter of an hour in his tent but Sir John Hepburn
came in again, and addressing to me, told me he was glad to find me
there; that he came to the captain's tent to inquire how to send to
me; and that I must do him the honour to go with him to wait on the
king, who had a mind to hear the account I could give him of the
Imperial army from my own mouth. I must confess I was at some loss in
my mind how to make my address to his Majesty, but I had heard so much
of the conversable temper of the king, and his particular sweetness of
humour with the meanest soldier, that I made no more difficulty, but
having paid my respects to Colonel Hepburn, thanked him for the honour
he had done me, and offered to rise and wait upon him. "Nay," says
the Colonel, "we will eat first, for I find Gourdon," which was the
captain's name, "has got something for supper, and the king's order is
at seven o'clock." So we went to supper, and Sir John, becoming very
friendly, must know my name; which, when I had told him, and of what
place and family, he rose from his seat, and embracing me, told me he
knew my father very well, and had been intimately acquainted with
him, and told me several passages wherein my father had particularly
obliged him. After this we went to supper, and the king's health being
drank round, the colonel moved the sooner because he had a mind to
talk with me.

When we were going to the king he inquired of me where I had been, and
what occasion brought me to the army. I told him the short history of
my travels, and that I came hither from Vienna on purpose to see the
King of Sweden and his army. He asked me if there was any service he
could do me, by which he meant, whether I desired an employment.
I pretended not to take him so, but told him the protection his
acquaintance would afford me was more than I could have asked, since I
might thereby have opportunity to satisfy my curiosity, which was the
chief end of my coming abroad. He perceiving by this that I had no
mind to be a soldier, told me very kindly I should command him in
anything; that his tent and equipage, horses and servants should
always have orders to be at my service; but that as a piece of
friendship, he would advise me to retire to some place distant from
the army, for that the army would march to-morrow, and the king was
resolved to fight General Tilly, and he would not have me hazard
myself; that if I thought fit to take his advice, he would have me
take that interval to see the court at Berlin, whither he would send
one of his servants to wait on me.

His discourse was too kind not to extort the tenderest acknowledgment
from me that I was capable of. I told him his care of me was so
obliging, that I knew not what return to make him, but if he pleased
to leave me to my choice I desired no greater favour than to trail a
pike under his command in the ensuing battle. "I can never answer it
to your father," says he, "to suffer you to expose yourself so far."
I told him my father would certainly acknowledge his friendship in the
proposal made me; but I believed he knew him better than to think he
would be well pleased with me if I should accept of it; that I was
sure my father would have rode post five hundred miles to have been
at such a battle under such a general, and it should never be told
him that his son had rode fifty miles to be out of it. He seemed to
be something concerned at the resolution I had taken, and replied very
quickly upon me, that he approved very well of my courage; "but," says
he, "no man gets any credit by running upon needless adventures, nor
loses any by shunning hazards which he has no order for. 'Tis enough,"
says he, "for a gentleman to behave well when he is commanded upon any
service; I have had fighting enough," says he, "upon these points
of honour, and I never got anything but reproof for it from the king
himself."

"Well, sir," said I, "however if a man expects to rise by his valour,
he must show it somewhere; and if I were to have any command in an
army, I would first try whether I could deserve it. I have never yet
seen any service, and must have my induction some time or other. I
shall never have a better schoolmaster than yourself, nor a better
school than such an army." "Well," says Sir John, "but you may have
the same school and the same teaching after this battle is over; for
I must tell you beforehand, this will be a bloody touch. Tilly has
a great army of old lads that are used to boxing, fellows with
iron faces, and 'tis a little too much to engage so hotly the first
entrance into the wars. You may see our discipline this winter, and
make your campaign with us next summer, when you need not fear but
we shall have fighting enough, and you will be better acquainted with
things. We do never put our common soldiers upon pitched battles the
first campaign, but place our new men in garrisons and try them in
parties first." "Sir," said I, with a little more freedom, "I believe
I shall not make a trade of the war, and therefore need not serve an
apprenticeship to it; 'tis a hard battle where none escapes. If I
come off, I hope I shall not disgrace you, and if not, 'twill be some
satisfaction to my father to hear his son died fighting under the
command of Sir John Hepburn, in the army of the King of Sweden, and I
desire no better epitaph upon my tomb."

"Well," says Sir John, and by this time we were just come to the
king's quarters, and the guards calling to us interrupted his reply;
so we went into the courtyard where the king was lodged, which was in
an indifferent house of one of the burghers of Dieben, and Sir John
stepping up, met the king coming down some steps into a large room
which looked over the town wall into a field where part of the
artillery was drawn up. Sir John Hepburn sent his man presently to me
to come up, which I did; and Sir John without any ceremony carries me
directly up to the king, who was leaning on his elbow in the window.
The king turning about, "This is the English gentleman," says Sir
John, "who I told your Majesty had been in the Imperial army." "How
then did he get hither," says the king, "without being taken by the
scouts?" At which question, Sir John saying nothing, "By a pass,
and please your Majesty, from the English ambassador's secretary at
Vienna," said I, making a profound reverence. "Have you then been at
Vienna?" says the king. "Yes, and please your Majesty," said I; upon
which the king, folding up a letter he had in his hand, seemed much
more earnest to talk about Vienna than about Tilly. "And, pray, what
news had you at Vienna?" "Nothing, sir," said I, "but daily accounts
one in the neck of another of their own misfortunes, and your
Majesty's conquests, which makes a very melancholy court there." "But,
pray," said the king, "what is the common opinion there about these
affairs?" "The common people are terrified to the last degree," said
I, "and when your Majesty took Frankfort-upon-Oder, if your army had
marched but twenty miles into Silesia, half the people would have run
out of Vienna, and I left them fortifying the city." "They need not,"
replied the king, smiling; "I have no design to trouble them, it is
the Protestant countries I must be for."

Upon this the Duke of Saxony entered the room, and finding the king
engaged, offered to retire; but the king, beckoning with his hand,
called to him in French; "Cousin," says the king, "this gentleman has
been travelling and comes from Vienna," and so made me repeat what
I had said before; at which the king went on with me, and Sir John
Hepburn informing his Majesty that I spoke High Dutch, he changed
his language, and asked me in Dutch where it was that I saw General
Tilly's army. I told his Majesty at the siege of Magdeburg. "At
Magdeburg!" said the king, shaking his head; "Tilly must answer to me
some day for that city, and if not to me, to a greater King than I.
Can you guess what army he had with him?" said the king. "He had two
armies with him," said I, "but one I suppose will do your Majesty
no harm." "Two armies!" said the king. "Yes, sir, he has one army
of about 26,000 men," said I, "and another of about 15,000 women and
their attendants," at which the king laughed heartily. "Ay, ay," says
the king, "those 15,000 do us as much harm as the 26,000, for they
eat up the country, and devour the poor Protestants more than the men.
Well," says the king, "do they talk of fighting us?" "They talk big
enough, sir," said I, "but your Majesty has not been so often fought
with as beaten in their discourse." "I know not for the men," says the
king, "but the old man is as likely to do it as talk of it, and I hope
to try them in a day or two."

The king inquired after that several matters of me about the Low
Countries, the Prince of Orange, and of the court and affairs in
England; and Sir John Hepburn informing his Majesty that I was the son
of an English gentleman of his acquaintance, the king had the goodness
to ask him what care he had taken of me against the day of battle.
Upon which Sir John repeated to him the discourse we had together by
the way; the king seeming particularly pleased with it, began to take
me to task himself. "You English gentlemen," says he, "are too
forward in the wars, which makes you leave them too soon again." "Your
Majesty," replied I, "makes war in so pleasant a manner as makes
all the world fond of fighting under your conduct." "Not so pleasant
neither," says the king, "here's a man can tell you that sometimes it
is not very pleasant." "I know not much of the warrior, sir," said
I, "nor of the world, but if always to conquer be the pleasure of the
war, your Majesty's soldiers have all that can be desired." "Well,"
says the king, "but however, considering all things, I think you would
do well to take the advice Sir John Hepburn has given you." "Your
Majesty may command me to anything, but where your Majesty and so many
gallant gentlemen hazard their lives, mine is not worth mentioning;
and I should not dare to tell my father at my return into England
that I was in your Majesty's army, and made so mean a figure that
your Majesty would not permit me to fight under that royal standard."
"Nay," replied the king, "I lay no commands upon you, but you are
young." "I can never die, sir," said I, "with more honour than in your
Majesty's service." I spake this with so much freedom, and his Majesty
was so pleased with it, that he asked me how I would choose to serve,
on horseback or on foot. I told his Majesty I should be glad to
receive any of his Majesty's commands, but if I had not that honour I
had purposed to trail a pike under Sir John Hepburn, who had done me
so much honour as to introduce me into his Majesty's presence. "Do so,
then," replied the king, and turning to Sir John Hepburn, said, "and
pray, do you take care of him." At which, overcome with the goodness
of his discourse, I could not answer a word, but made him a profound
reverence and retired.

The next day but one, being the 7th of September, before day the army
marched from Dieben to a large field about a mile from Leipsic, where
we found Tilly's army in full battalia in admirable order, which made
a show both glorious and terrible. Tilly, like a fair gamester, had
taken up but one side of the plain, and left the other free, and all
the avenues open for the king's army; nor did he stir to the charge
till the king's army was completely drawn up and advanced toward him.
He had in his army 44,000 old soldiers, every way answerable to what
I have said of them before; and I shall only add, a better army, I
believe, never was so soundly beaten.

The king was not much inferior in force, being joined with the Saxons,
who were reckoned 22,000 men, and who drew up on the left, making a
main battle and two wings, as the king did on the right.

The king placed himself at the right wing of his own horse, Gustavus
Horn had the main battle of the Swedes, the Duke of Saxony had the
main battle of his own troops, and General Arnheim the right wing of
his horse. The second line of the Swedes consisted of the two Scotch
brigades, and three Swedish, with the Finland horse in the wings.

In the beginning of the fight, Tilly's right wing charged with such
irresistible fury upon the left of the king's army where the Saxons
were posted, that nothing could withstand them. The Saxons fled amain,
and some of them carried the news over the country that all was lost,
and the king's army overthrown; and indeed it passed for an oversight
with some that the king did not place some of his old troops among the
Saxons, who were new-raised men. The Saxons lost here near 2000 men,
and hardly ever showed their faces again all the battle, except some
few of their horse.

I was posted with my comrade, the captain, at the head of three
Scottish regiments of foot, commanded by Sir John Hepburn, with
express directions from the colonel to keep by him. Our post was in
the second line, as a reserve to the King of Sweden's main battle,
and, which was strange, the main battle, which consisted of four great
brigades of foot, were never charged during the whole fight; and yet
we, who had the reserve, were obliged to endure the whole weight
of the Imperial army. The occasion was, the right wing of the
Imperialists having defeated the Saxons, and being eager in the chase,
Tilly, who was an old soldier, and ready to prevent all mistakes,
forbids any pursuit. "Let them go," says he, "but let us beat the
Swedes, or we do nothing." Upon this the victorious troops fell in
upon the flank of the king's army, which, the Saxons being fled, lay
open to them. Gustavus Horn commanded the left wing of the Swedes, and
having first defeated some regiments which charged him, falls in upon
the rear of the Imperial right wing, and separates them from the van,
who were advanced a great way forward in pursuit of the Saxons, and
having routed the said rear or reserve, falls on upon Tilly's main
battle, and defeated part of them; the other part was gone in chase of
the Saxons, and now also returned, fell in upon the rear of the left
wing of the Swedes, charging them in the flank, for they drew up upon
the very ground which the Saxons had quitted. This changed the whole
front, and made the Swedes face about to the left, and made a great
front on their flank to make this good. Our brigades, who were placed
as a reserve for the main battle, were, by special order from the
king, wheeled about to the left, and placed for the right of this new
front to charge the Imperialists; they were about 12,000 of their best
foot, besides horse, and flushed with the execution of the Saxons,
fell on like furies. The king by this time had almost defeated the
Imperialists' left wing; their horse, with more haste than good speed,
had charged faster than their foot could follow, and having broke into
the king's first line, he let them go, where, while the second line
bears the shock, and bravely resisted them, the king follows them on
the crupper with thirteen troops of horse, and some musketeers, by
which being hemmed in, they were all cut down in a moment as it were,
and the army never disordered with them. This fatal blow to the left
wing gave the king more leisure to defeat the foot which followed, and
to send some assistance to Gustavus Horn in his left wing, who had his
hands full with the main battle of the Imperialists.

But those troops who, as I said, had routed the Saxons, being called
off from the pursuit, had charged our flank, and were now grown very
strong, renewed the battle in a terrible manner. Here it was I saw our
men go to wreck. Colonel Hall, a brave soldier, commanded the rear of
the Swede's left wing; he fought like a lion, but was slain, and most
of his regiment cut off, though not unrevenged, for they entirely
ruined Furstenberg's regiment of foot. Colonel Cullembach, with his
regiment of horse, was extremely overlaid also, and the colonel and
many brave officers killed, and in short all that wing was shattered,
and in an ill condition.

In this juncture came the king, and having seen what havoc the enemy
made of Cullembach's troops, he comes riding along the front of our
three brigades, and himself led us on to the charge; the colonel of
his guards, the Baron Dyvel, was shot dead just as the king had given
him some orders. When the Scots advanced, seconded by some regiments
of horse which the king also sent to the charge, the bloodiest fight
began that ever men beheld, for the Scottish brigades, giving fire
three ranks at a time over one another's heads, poured in their shot
so thick, that the enemy were cut down like grass before a scythe;
and following into the thickest of their foot with the clubs of their
muskets made a most dreadful slaughter, and yet was there no flying.
Tilly's men might be killed and knocked down, but no man turned his
back, nor would give an inch of ground, but as they were wheeled, or
marched, or retreated by their officers.

There was a regiment of cuirassiers which stood whole to the last,
and fought like lions; they went ranging over the field when all
their army was broken, and nobody cared for charging them; they were
commanded by Baron Kronenburg, and at last went off from the battle
whole. These were armed in black armour from head to foot, and they
carried off their general. About six o'clock the field was cleared of
the enemy, except at one place on the king's side, where some of them
rallied, and though they knew all was lost would take no quarter, but
fought it out to the last man, being found dead the next day in rank
and file as they were drawn up.

I had the good fortune to receive no hurt in this battle, excepting
a small scratch on the side of my neck by the push of a pike; but my
friend received a very dangerous wound when the battle was as good as
over. He had engaged with a German colonel, whose name we could never
learn, and having killed his man, and pressed very close upon him,
so that he had shot his horse, the horse in the fall kept the colonel
down, lying on one of his legs; upon which he demanded quarter, which
Captain Fielding granting, helped him to quit his horse, and having
disarmed him, was bringing him into the line, when the regiment of
cuirassiers, which I mentioned, commanded by Baron Kronenburg, came
roving over the field, and with a flying charge saluted our front with
a salvo of carabine shot, which wounded us a great many men, and among
the rest the captain received a shot in his thigh, which laid him on
the ground, and being separated from the line, his prisoner got away
with them.

This was the first service I was in, and indeed I never saw any fight
since maintained with such gallantry, such desperate valour, together
with such dexterity of management, both sides being composed of
soldiers fully tried, bred to the wars, expert in everything, exact in
their order, and incapable of fear, which made the battle be much more
bloody than usual. Sir John Hepburn, at my request, took particular
care of my comrade, and sent his own surgeon to look after him;
and afterwards, when the city of Leipsic was retaken, provided him
lodgings there, and came very often to see him; and indeed I was in
great care for him too, the surgeons being very doubtful of him a
great while; for having lain in the field all night among the dead,
his wound, for want of dressing, and with the extremity of cold, was
in a very ill condition, and the pain of it had thrown him into a
fever. 'Twas quite dusk before the fight ended, especially where the
last rallied troops fought so long, and therefore we durst not break
our order to seek out our friends, so that 'twas near seven o'clock
the next morning before we found the captain, who, though very weak by
the loss of blood, had raised himself up, and placed his back against
the buttock of a dead horse. I was the first that knew him, and
running to him, embraced him with a great deal of joy; he was not able
to speak, but made signs to let me see he knew me, so we brought him
into the camp, and Sir John Hepburn, as I noted before, sent his own
surgeons to look after him.

The darkness of the night prevented any pursuit, and was the only
refuge the enemy had left: for had there been three hours more
daylight ten thousand more lives had been lost, for the Swedes (and
Saxons especially) enraged by the obstinacy of the enemy, were so
thoroughly heated that they would have given quarter but to few. The
retreat was not sounded till seven o'clock, when the king drew up the
whole army upon the field of battle, and gave strict command that none
should stir from their order; so the army lay under their arms all
night, which was another reason why the wounded soldiers suffered very
much by the cold; for the king, who had a bold enemy to deal with, was
not ignorant what a small body of desperate men rallied together might
have done in the darkness of the night, and therefore he lay in his
coach all night at the head of the line, though it froze very hard.

As soon as the day began to peep the trumpets sounded to horse, and
all the dragoons and light-horse in the army were commanded to the
pursuit. The cuirassiers and some commanded musketeers advanced some
miles, if need were, to make good their retreat, and all the foot
stood to their arms for a reverse; but in half-an-hour word was
brought to the king that the enemy were quite dispersed, upon which
detachments were made out of every regiment to search among the dead
for any of our friends that were wounded; and the king himself gave a
strict order, that if any were found wounded and alive among the enemy
none should kill them, but take care to bring them into the camp--a
piece of humanity which saved the lives of near a thousand of the
enemies.

This piece of service being over, the enemy's camp was seized upon,
and the soldiers were permitted to plunder it; all the cannon, arms,
and ammunition was secured for the king's use, the rest was given up
to the soldiers, who found so much plunder that they had no reason to
quarrel for shares.

For my share, I was so busy with my wounded captain that I got nothing
but a sword, which I found just by him when I first saw him; but my
man brought me a very good horse with a furniture on him, and one
pistol of extraordinary workmanship.

I bade him get upon his back and make the best of the day for himself,
which he did, and I saw him no more till three days after, when he
found me out at Leipsic, so richly dressed that I hardly knew him; and
after making his excuse for his long absence, gave me a very pleasant
account where he had been. He told me that, according to my order,
being mounted on the horse he had brought me, he first rid into the
field among the dead to get some clothes suitable to the equipage of
his horse, and having seized on a laced coat, a helmet, a sword, and
an extraordinary good cane, was resolved to see what was become of the
enemy; and following the track of the dragoons, which he could
easily do by the bodies on the road, he fell in with a small party
of twenty-five dragoons, under no command but a corporal, making to
a village where some of the enemies' horse had been quartered. The
dragoons, taking him for an officer by his horse, desired him to
command them, told him the enemy was very rich, and they doubted not
a good booty. He was a bold, brisk fellow, and told them, with all
his heart, but said he had but one pistol, the other being broken with
firing; so they lent him a pair of pistols, and a small piece they had
taken, and he led them on. There had been a regiment of horse and
some troops of Crabats in the village, but they were fled on the first
notice of the pursuit, excepting three troops, and these, on sight
of this small party, supposing them to be only the first of a greater
number, fled in the greatest confusion imaginable. They took the
village, and about fifty horses, with all the plunder of the enemy,
and with the heat of the service he had spoiled my horse, he said, for
which he had brought me two more; for he, passing for the commander of
the party, had all the advantage the custom of war gives an officer in
like cases.

I was very well pleased with the relation the fellow gave me, and,
laughing at him, "Well, captain," said I, "and what plunder have ye
got?" "Enough to make me a captain, sir," says he, "if you please, and
a troop ready raised too; for the party of dragoons are posted in the
village by my command, till they have farther orders." In short,
he pulled out sixty or seventy pieces of gold, five or six watches,
thirteen or fourteen rings, whereof two were diamond rings, one of
which was worth fifty dollars, silver as much as his pockets would
hold; besides that he had brought three horses, two of which were
laden with baggage, and a boor he had hired to stay with them at
Leipsic till he had found me out. "But I am afraid, captain," says I,
"you have plundered the village instead of plundering the enemy." "No
indeed, not we," says he, "but the Crabats had done it for us and we
light of them just as they were carrying it off." "Well," said I, "but
what will you do with your men, for when you come to give them orders
they will know you well enough?" "No, no," says he, "I took care of
that, for just now I gave a soldier five dollars to carry them news
that the army was marched to Merseburg, and that they should follow
thither to the regiment."

Having secured his money in my lodgings, he asked me if I pleased to
see his horses, and to have one for myself? I told him I would go and
see them in the afternoon; but the fellow being impatient goes and
fetches them. There were three horses, one whereof was a very good
one, and by the furniture was an officer's horse of the Crabats, and
that my man would have me accept, for the other he had spoiled, as
he said. I was but indifferently horsed before, so I accepted of the
horse, and went down with him to see the rest of his plunder there.
He had got three or four pair of pistols, two or three bundles of
officers' linen, and lace, a field-bed, and a tent, and several other
things of value; but at last, coming to a small fardel, "And this,"
says he, "I took whole from a Crabat running away with it under his
arm," so he brought it up into my chamber. He had not looked into it,
he said, but he understood 'twas some plunder the soldiers had made,
and finding it heavy took it by consent. We opened it and found it was
a bundle of some linen, thirteen or fourteen pieces of plate, and in a
small cup, three rings, a fine necklace of pearl and the value of 100
rix-dollars in money.

The fellow was amazed at his own good fortune, and hardly knew what
to do with himself; I bid him go take care of his other things, and
of his horses, and come again. So he went and discharged the boor that
waited and packed up all his plunder, and came up to me in his old
clothes again. "How now, captain," says I, "what, have you altered
your equipage already?" "I am no more ashamed, sir, of your livery,"
answered he, "than of your service, and nevertheless your servant for
what I have got by it." "Well," says I to him, "but what will you do
now with all your money?" "I wish my poor father had some of it," says
he, "and for the rest I got it for you, sir, and desire you would take
it." He spoke it with so much honesty and freedom that I could not
but take it very kindly; but, however, I told him I would not take a
farthing from him as his master, but I would have him play the good
husband with it, now he had such good fortune to get it. He told me
he would take my directions in everything. "Why, then," said I, "I'll
tell you what I would advise you to do, turn it all into ready money,
and convey it by return home into England, and follow yourself the
first opportunity, and with good management you may put yourself in a
good posture of living with it." The fellow, with a sort of dejection
in his looks, asked me if he had disobliged me in anything? "Why?"
says I. "That I was willing to turn him out of his service." "No,
George" (that was his name), says I, "but you may live on this money
without being a servant." "I'd throw it all into the Elbe," says he,
"over Torgau bridge, rather than leave your service; and besides,"
says he, "can't I save my money without going from you? I got it in
your service, and I'll never spend it out of your service, unless you
put me away. I hope my money won't make me the worse servant; if I
thought it would, I'd soon have little enough." "Nay, George," says
I, "I shall not oblige you to it, for I am not willing to lose you
neither: come, then," says I, "let us put it all together, and see
what it will come to." So he laid it all together on the table, and by
our computation he had gotten as much plunder as was worth about 1400
rix-dollars, besides three horses with their furniture, a tent, a bed,
and some wearing linen. Then he takes the necklace of pearl, a very
good watch, a diamond ring, and 100 pieces of gold, and lays them by
themselves, and having, according to our best calculation, valued the
things, he put up all the rest, and as I was going to ask him what
they were left out for, he takes them up in his hand, and coming round
the table, told me, that if I did not think him unworthy of my service
and favour, he begged I would give him leave to make that present to
me; that it was my first thought his going out, that he had got it
all in my service, and he should think I had no kindness for him if I
should refuse it.

I was resolved in my mind not to take it from him, and yet I could
find no means to resist his importunity. At last I told him, I would
accept of part of his present, and that I esteemed his respect in
that as much as the whole, and that I would not have him importune me
farther; so I took the ring and watch, with the horse and furniture as
before, and made him turn all the rest into money at Leipsic, and
not suffering him to wear his livery, made him put himself into a
tolerable equipage, and taking a young Leipsicer into my service, he
attended me as a gentleman from that time forward.

The king's army never entered Leipsic, but proceeded to Merseberg, and
from thence to Halle, and so marched on into Franconia, while the Duke
of Saxony employed his forces in recovering Leipsic and driving the
Imperialists out of his country. I continued at Leipsic twelve days,
being not willing to leave my comrade till he was recovered; but Sir
John Hepburn so often importuned me to come into the army, and sent
me word that the king had very often inquired for me, that at last I
consented to go without him; so having made our appointment where to
meet, and how to correspond by letters, I went to wait on Sir John
Hepburn, who then lay with the king's army at the city of Erfurt in
Saxony. As I was riding between Leipsic and Halle, I observed my
horse went very awkwardly and uneasy, and sweat very much, though the
weather was cold, and we had rid but very softly; I fancied therefore
that the saddle might hurt the horse, and calls my new captain up.
"George," says I, "I believe this saddle hurts the horse." So we
alighted, and looking under the saddle found the back of the horse
extremely galled; so I bid him take off the saddle, which he did, and
giving the horse to my young Leipsicer to lead, we sat down to see if
we could mend it, for there was no town near us. Says George, pointing
with his finger, "If you please to cut open the pannel there, I'll get
something to stuff into it which will bear it from the horse's back."
So while he looked for something to thrust in, I cut a hole in
the pannel of the saddle, and, following it with my finger, I felt
something hard, which seemed to move up and down. Again, as I thrust
it with my finger, "Here's something that should not be here," says I,
not yet imagining what afterwards fell out, and calling, "Run back,"
bade him put up his finger. "Whatever 'tis," says he, "'tis this hurts
the horse, for it bears just on his back when the saddle is set on."
So we strove to take hold on it, but could not reach it; at last we
took the upper part of the saddle quite from the pannel, and there
lay a small silk purse wrapped in a piece of leather, and full of gold
ducats. "Thou art born to be rich, George," says I to him, "here's
more money." We opened the purse and found in it four hundred and
thirty-eight small pieces of gold.

There I had a new skirmish with him whose the money should be. I
told him 'twas his, he told me no; I had accepted of the horse and
furniture, and all that was about him was mine, and solemnly vowed he
would not have a penny of it. I saw no remedy, but put up the money
for the present, mended our saddle, and went on. We lay that night at
Halle, and having had such a booty in the saddle, I made him search
the saddles of the other two horses, in one of which we found three
French crowns, but nothing in the other.

We arrived at Erfurt the 28th of September, but the army was removed,
and entered into Franconia, and at the siege of Koningshoven we came
up with them. The first thing I did was to pay my civilities to Sir
John Hepburn, who received me very kindly, but told me withal that
I had not done well to be so long from him, and the king had
particularly inquired for me, had commanded him to bring me to him at
my return. I told him the reason of my stay at Leipsic, and how I had
left that place and my comrade, before he was cured of his wounds, to
wait on him according to his letters. He told me the king had spoken
some things very obliging about me, and he believed would offer me
some command in the army, if I thought well to accept of it. I told
him I had promised my father not to take service in an army without
his leave, and yet if his Majesty should offer it, I neither knew
how to resist it, nor had I an inclination to anything more than the
service, and such a leader, though I had much rather have served as a
volunteer at my own charge (which, as he knew, was the custom of our
English gentlemen) than in any command. He replied, "Do as you think
fit; but some gentlemen would give 20,000 crowns to stand so fair for
advancement as you do."

The town of Koningshoven capitulated that day, and Sir John was
ordered to treat with the citizens, so I had no further discourse with
him then; and the town being taken, the army immediately advanced down
the river Maine, for the king had his eye upon Frankfort and Mentz,
two great cities, both which he soon became master of, chiefly by
the prodigious expedition of his march; for within a month after the
battle, he was in the lower parts of the empire, and had passed from
the Elbe to the Rhine, an incredible conquest, had taken all the
strong cities, the bishoprics of Bamberg, of Wurtzburg, and almost all
the circle of Franconia, with part of Schawberland--a conquest large
enough to be seven years a-making by the common course of arms.

Business going on thus, the king had not leisure to think of small
matters, and I being not thoroughly resolved in my mind, did not press
Sir John to introduce me. I had wrote to my father with an account
of my reception in the army, the civilities of Sir John Hepburn, the
particulars of the battle, and had indeed pressed him to give me
leave to serve the King of Sweden, to which particular I waited for
an answer, but the following occasion determined me before an answer
could possibly reach me.

The king was before the strong castle of Marienburg, which commands
the city of Wurtzburg. He had taken the city, but the garrison and
richer part of the burghers were retired into the castle, and trusting
to the strength of the place, which was thought impregnable, they bade
the Swedes do their worst; 'twas well provided with all things, and a
strong garrison in it, so that the army indeed expected 'twould be a
long piece of work. The castle stood on a high rock, and on the steep
of the rock was a bastion which defended the only passage up the hill
into the castle; the Scots were chose out to make this attack, and the
king was an eye-witness of their gallantry. In the action Sir John was
not commanded out, but Sir James Ramsey led them on; but I observed
that most of the Scotch officers in the other regiments prepared to
serve as volunteers for the honour of their countrymen, and Sir John
Hepburn led them on. I was resolved to see this piece of service,
and therefore joined myself to the volunteers. We were armed with
partisans, and each man two pistols at our belt. It was a piece of
service that seemed perfectly desperate, the advantage of the hill,
the precipice we were to mount, the height of the bastion, the
resolute courage and number of the garrison, who from a complete
covert made a terrible fire upon us, all joined to make the action
hopeless. But the fury of the Scots musketeers was not to be abated by
any difficulties; they mounted the hill, scaled the works like madmen,
running upon the enemies' pikes, and after two hours' desperate fight
in the midst of fire and smoke, took it by storm, and put all the
garrison to the sword. The volunteers did their part, and had their
share of the loss too, for thirteen or fourteen were killed out of
thirty-seven, besides the wounded, among whom I received a hurt more
troublesome than dangerous by a thrust of a halberd into my arm, which
proved a very painful wound, and I was a great while before it was
thoroughly recovered.

The king received us as we drew off at the foot of the hill, calling
the soldiers his brave Scots, and commending the officers by name.
The next morning the castle was also taken by storm, and the greatest
booty that ever was found in any one conquest in the whole war; the
soldiers got here so much money that they knew not what to do with it,
and the plunder they got here and at the battle of Leipsic made them
so unruly, that had not the king been the best master of discipline in
the world, they had never been kept in any reasonable bounds.

The king had taken notice of our small party of volunteers, and though
I thought he had not seen me, yet he sent the next morning for Sir
John Hepburn, and asked him if I were not come to the army? "Yes,"
says Sir John, "he has been here two or three days." And as he was
forming an excuse for not having brought me to wait on his Majesty,
says the king, interrupting him, "I wonder you would let him thrust
himself into a hot piece of service as storming the Port Graft.
Pray let him know I saw him, and have a very good account of his
behaviour." Sir John returned with this account to me, and pressed
me to pay my duty to his Majesty the next morning; and accordingly,
though I had but an ill night with the pain of my wound, I was with
him at the levee in the castle.

I cannot but give some short account of the glory of the morning; the
castle had been cleared of the dead bodies of the enemies, and what
was not pillaged by the soldiers was placed under a guard. There was
first a magazine of very good arms for about 18,000 or 20,000 foot,
and 4000 horse, a very good train of artillery of about eighteen
pieces of battery, thirty-two brass field-pieces, and four mortars.
The bishop's treasure, and other public monies not plundered by the
soldiers, was telling out by the officers, and amounted to 400,000
florins in money; and the burghers of the town in solemn procession,
bareheaded, brought the king three tons of gold as a composition to
exempt the city from plunder. Here was also a stable of gallant horses
which the king had the curiosity to go and see.

When the ceremony of the burghers was over, the king came down into
the castle court, walked on the parade (where the great train of
artillery was placed on their carriages) and round the walls, and gave
order for repairing the bastion that was stormed by the Scots; and
as at the entrance of the parade Sir John Hepburn and I made our
reverence to the king, "Ho, cavalier!" said the king to me, "I am glad
to see you," and so passed forward. I made my bow very low, but his
Majesty said no more at that time.

When the view was over the king went up into the lodgings, and Sir
John and I walked in an antechamber for about a quarter of an hour,
when one of the gentlemen of the bedchamber came out to Sir John, and
told him the king asked for him; he stayed but a little with the king,
and come out to me and told me the king had ordered him to bring me to
him.

His Majesty, with a countenance full of honour and goodness,
interrupted my compliment, and asked me how I did; at which answering
only with a bow, says the king, "I am sorry to see you are hurt; I
would have laid my commands on you not to have shown yourself in so
sharp a piece of service, if I had known you had been in the camp."
"Your Majesty does me too much honour," said I, "in your care of a
life that has yet done nothing to deserve your favour." His Majesty
was pleased to say something very kind to me relating to my behaviour
in the battle of Leipsic, which I have not vanity enough to write;
at the conclusion whereof, when I replied very humbly that I was not
sensible that any service I had done, or could do, could possibly
merit so much goodness, he told me he had ordered me a small testimony
of his esteem, and withal gave me his hand to kiss. I was now
conquered, and with a sort of surprise told his Majesty I found myself
so much engaged by his goodness, as well as my own inclination, that
if his Majesty would please to accept of my devoir, I was resolved to
serve in his army, or wherever he pleased to command me. "Serve
me," says the king, "why, so you do, but I must not have you be a
musketeer; a poor soldier at a dollar a week will do that." "Pray,
Sir John," says the king, "give him what commission he desires." "No
commission, sir," says I, "would please me better than leave to fight
near your Majesty's person, and to serve you at my own charge till I
am qualified by more experience to receive your commands." "Why, then,
it shall be so," said the king, "and I charge you, Hepburn," says he,
"when anything offers that is either fit for him, or he desires, that
you tell me of it;" and giving me his hand again to kiss, I withdrew.

I was followed before I had passed the castle gate by one of the
king's pages, who brought me a warrant, directed to Sir John Hepburn,
to go to the master of the horse for an immediate delivery of things
ordered by the king himself for my account, where being come, the
equerry produced me a very good coach with four horses, harness, and
equipage, and two very fine saddle-horses, out of the stable of the
bishop's horses afore-mentioned; with these there was a list for three
servants, and a warrant to the steward of the king's baggage to defray
me, my horses, and servants at the king's charge till farther order.
I was very much at a loss how to manage myself in this so strange
freedom of so great a prince, and consulting with Sir John Hepburn, I
was proposing to him whether it was not proper to go immediately back
to pay my duty to his Majesty, and acknowledge his bounty in the best
terms I could; but while we were resolving to do so, the guards stood
to their arms, and we saw the king go out at the gate in his coach
to pass into the city, so we were diverted from it for that time. I
acknowledge the bounty of the king was very surprising, but I must say
it was not so very strange to me when I afterwards saw the course of
his management. Bounty in him was his natural talent, but he never
distributed his favours but where he thought himself both loved and
faithfully served, and when he was so, even the single actions of
his private soldiers he would take particular notice of himself, and
publicly own, acknowledge, and reward them, of which I am obliged to
give some instances.

A private musketeer at the storming the castle of Wurtzburg, when
all the detachment was beaten off, stood in the face of the enemy and
fired his piece, and though he had a thousand shot made at him, stood
unconcerned, and charged his piece again, and let fly at the enemy,
continuing to do so three times, at the same time beckoning with his
hand to his fellows to come on again, which they did, animated by his
example, and carried the place for the king.

When the town was taken the king ordered the regiment to be drawn out,
and calling for that soldier, thanked him before them all for
taking the town for him, gave him a thousand dollars in money, and a
commission with his own hand for a foot company, or leave to go home,
which he would. The soldier took the commission on his knees, kissed
it, and put it into his bosom, and told the king, he would never leave
his service as long as he lived.

This bounty of the king's, timed and suited by his judgment, was
the reason that he was very well served, entirely beloved, and most
punctually obeyed by his soldiers, who were sure to be cherished and
encouraged if they did well, having the king generally an eye-witness
of their behaviour.

My indiscretion rather than valour had engaged me so far at the battle
of Leipsic, that being in the van of Sir John Hepburn's brigade,
almost three whole companies of us were separated from our line, and
surrounded by the enemies' pikes. I cannot but say also that we were
disengaged rather by a desperate charge Sir John made with the whole
regiment to fetch us off, than by our own valour, though we were not
wanting to ourselves neither, but this part of the action being talked
of very much to the advantage of the young English volunteer, and
possibly more than I deserved, was the occasion of all the distinction
the king used me with ever after.

I had by this time letters from my father, in which, though with some
reluctance, he left me at liberty to enter into arms if I thought fit,
always obliging me to be directed, and, as he said, commanded by
Sir John Hepburn. At the same time he wrote to Sir John Hepburn,
commending his son's fortunes, as he called it, to his care, which
letters Sir John showed the king unknown to me.

I took care always to acquaint my father of every circumstance, and
forgot not to mention his Majesty's extraordinary favour, which so
affected my father, that he obtained a very honourable mention of it
in a letter from King Charles to the King of Sweden, written by his
own hand.

I had waited on his Majesty, with Sir John Hepburn, to give him thanks
for his magnificent present, and was received with his usual goodness,
and after that I was every day among the gentlemen of his ordinary
attendance. And if his Majesty went out on a party, as he would
often do, or to view the country, I always attended him among the
volunteers, of whom a great many always followed him; and he would
often call me out, talk with me, send me upon messages to towns, to
princes, free cities, and the like, upon extraordinary occasions.

The first piece of service he put me upon had like to have embroiled
me with one of his favourite colonels. The king was marching through
the Bergstraet, a low country on the edge of the Rhine, and, as all
men thought, was going to besiege Heidelberg, but on a sudden orders
a party of his guards, with five companies of Scots, to be drawn out;
while they were drawing out this detachment the king calls me to him,
"Ho, cavalier," says he, that was his usual word, "you shall command
this party;" and thereupon gives me orders to march back all night,
and in the morning, by break of day, to take post under the walls of
the fort of Oppenheim, and immediately to entrench myself as well as I
could. Grave Neels, the colonel of his guards, thought himself injured
by this command, but the king took the matter upon himself, and Grave
Neels told me very familiarly afterwards, "We have such a master,"
says he, "that no man can be affronted by. I thought myself wronged,"
says he, "when you commanded my men over my head; and for my life,"
says he, "I knew not which way to be angry."

I executed my commission so punctually that by break of day I was set
down within musket-shot of the fort, under covert of a little mount,
on which stood a windmill, and had indifferently fortified myself, and
at the same time had posted some of my men on two other passes, but
at farther distance from the fort, so that the fort was effectually
blocked up on the land side. In the afternoon the enemy sallied on my
first entrenchment, but being covered from their cannon, and defended
by a ditch which I had drawn across the road, they were so well
received by my musketeers that they retired with the loss of six or
seven men.

The next day Sir John Hepburn was sent with two brigades of foot to
carry on the work, and so my commission ended. The king expressed
himself very well pleased with what I had done, and when he was so
was never sparing of telling of it, for he used to say that public
commendations were a great encouragement to valour.

While Sir John Hepburn lay before the fort and was preparing to storm
it, the king's design was to get over the Rhine, but the Spaniards
which were in Oppenheim had sunk all the boats they could find. At
last the king, being informed where some lay that were sunk, caused
them to be weighed with all the expedition possible, and in the night
of the 7th of December, in three boats, passed over his regiment of
guards, about three miles above the town, and, as the king thought,
secure from danger; but they were no sooner landed, and not drawn into
order, but they were charged by a body of Spanish horse, and had not
the darkness given them opportunity to draw up in the enclosures
in several little parties, they had been in great danger of being
disordered; but by this means they lined the hedges and lanes so with
musketeers, that the remainder had time to draw up in battalia, and
saluted the horse with their muskets, so that they drew farther off.

The king was very impatient, hearing his men engaged, having no boats
nor possible means to get over to help them. At last, about eleven
o'clock at night, the boats came back, and the king thrust another
regiment into them, and though his officers dissuaded him, would go
over himself with them on foot, and did so. This was three months that
very day when the battle of Leipsic was fought, and winter time too,
that the progress of his arms had spread from the Elbe, where it parts
Saxony and Brandenburg, to the Lower Palatine and the Rhine.

I went over in the boat with the king. I never saw him in so much
concern in my life, for he was in pain for his men; but before we got
on shore the Spaniards retired. However, the king landed, ordered his
men, and prepared to entrench, but he had not time, for by that time
the boats were put off again, the Spaniards, not knowing more troops
were landed, and being reinforced from Oppenheim, came on again, and
charged with great fury; but all things were now in order, and they
were readily received and beaten back again. They came on again the
third time, and with repeated charges attacked us; but at last
finding us too strong for them they gave it over. By this time another
regiment of foot was come over, and as soon as day appeared the king
with the three regiments marched to the town, which surrendered at the
first summons, and the next day the fort yielded to Sir John Hepburn.

The castle at Oppenheim held out still with a garrison of 800
Spaniards, and the king, leaving 200 Scots of Sir James Ramsey's men
in the town, drew out to attack the castle. Sir James Ramsey being
left wounded at Wurtzburg, the king gave me the command of those 200
men, which were a regiment, that is to say, all that were left of a
gallant regiment of 2000 Scots, which the king brought out of Sweden
with him, under that brave colonel. There was about thirty officers,
who, having no soldiers, were yet in pay, and served as reformadoes
with the regiment, and were over and above the 200 men.

The king designed to storm the castle on the lower side by the way
that leads to Mentz, and Sir John Hepburn landed from the other side
and marched up to storm on the Rhine port.

My reformado Scots, having observed that the town port of the castle
was not so well guarded as the rest, all the eyes of the garrison
being bent towards the king and Sir John Hepburn, came running to me,
and told me they believed they could enter the castle, sword in hand,
if I would give them leave. I told them I durst not give them orders,
my commission being only to keep and defend the town; but they being
very importunate, I told them they were volunteers, and might do what
they pleased, that I would lend them fifty men, and draw up the rest
to second them, or bring them off, as I saw occasion, so as I might
not hazard the town. This was as much as they desired; they sallied
immediately, and in a trice the volunteers scaled the port, cut in
pieces the guard, and burst open the gate, at which the fifty entered.
Finding the gate won, I advanced immediately with 100 musketeers more,
having locked up all the gates of the town but the castle port, and
leaving fifty still for a reserve just at that gate; the townsmen,
too, seeing the castle, as it were, taken, ran to arms, and followed
me with above 200 men. The Spaniards were knocked down by the Scots
before they knew what the matter was, and the king and Sir John
Hepburn, advancing to storm, were surprised when, instead of
resistance, they saw the Spaniards throwing themselves over the walls
to avoid the fury of the Scots. Few of the garrison got away, but were
either killed or taken, and having cleared the castle, I set open the
port on the king's side, and sent his Majesty word the castle was his
own. The king came on, and entered on foot. I received him at the head
of the Scots reformadoes; who all saluted him with their pikes. The
king gave them his hat, and turning about, "Brave Scots, brave Scots,"
says he smiling, "you were too quick for me;" then beckoning to me,
made me tell him how and in what manner we had managed the storm,
which he was exceeding well pleased with, but especially at the
caution I had used to bring them off if they had miscarried, and
secured the town.

From hence the army marched to Mentz, which in four days' time
capitulated, with the fort and citadel, and the city paid his Majesty
300,000 dollars to be exempted from the fury of the soldiers. Here the
king himself drew the plan of those invincible fortifications which to
this day makes it one of the strongest cities in Germany.

Friburg, Koningstien, Neustadt, Kaiserslautern, and almost all the
Lower Palatinate, surrendered at the very terror of the King of
Sweden's approach, and never suffered the danger of a siege.

The king held a most magnificent court at Mentz, attended by the
Landgrave of Hesse, with an incredible number of princes and lords
of the empire, with ambassadors and residents of foreign princes;
and here his Majesty stayed till March, when the queen, with a great
retinue of Swedish nobility, came from Erfurt to see him. The king,
attended by a gallant train of German nobility, went to Frankfort, and
from thence on to Hoest, to meet the queen, where her Majesty arrived
February 8.

During the king's stay in these parts, his armies were not idle, his
troops, on one side under the Rhinegrave, a brave and ever-fortunate
commander, and under the Landgrave of Hesse, on the other, ranged the
country from Lorraine to Luxemburg, and past the Moselle on the west,
and the Weser on the north. Nothing could stand before them: the
Spanish army which came to the relief of the Catholic Electors was
everywhere defeated and beaten quite out of the country, and the
Lorraine army quite ruined. 'Twas a most pleasant court sure as ever
was seen, where every day expresses arrived of armies defeated, towns
surrendered, contributions agreed upon, parties routed, prisoners
taken, and princes sending ambassadors to sue for truces and
neutralities, to make submissions and compositions, and to pay arrears
and contributions.

Here arrived, February 10, the King of Bohemia from England, and with
him my Lord Craven, with a body of Dutch horse, and a very fine train
of English volunteers, who immediately, without any stay, marched on
to Hoest to wait upon his Majesty of Sweden, who received him with a
great deal of civility, and was treated at a noble collation by the
king and queen at Frankfort. Never had the unfortunate king so fair a
prospect of being restored to his inheritance of the Palatinate as
at that time, and had King James, his father-in-law, had a soul
answerable to the occasion, it had been effected before, but it was a
strange thing to see him equipped from the English court with one lord
and about forty or fifty English gentlemen in his attendance, whereas
had the King of England now, as 'tis well known he might have done,
furnished him with 10,000 or 12,000 English foot, nothing could have
hindered him taking a full possession of his country; and yet even
without that help did the King of Sweden clear almost his whole
country of Imperialists, and after his death reinstal his son in the
Electorate; but no thanks to us.

The Lord Craven did me the honour to inquire for me by name, and his
Majesty of Sweden did me yet more by presenting me to the King of
Bohemia, and my Lord Craven gave me a letter from my father. And
speaking something of my father having served under the Prince of
Orange in the famous battle of Nieuport, the king, smiling, returned,
"And pray tell him from me his son has served as well in the warm
battle of Leipsic."

My father being very much pleased with the honour I had received from
so great a king, had ordered me to acquaint his Majesty that, if he
pleased to accept of their service, he would raise him a regiment of
English horse at his own charge to be under my command, and to be
sent over into Holland; and my Lord Craven had orders from the King of
England to signify his consent to the said levy. I acquainted my old
friend Sir John Hepburn with the contents of the letter in order to
have his advice, who being pleased with the proposal, would have me
go to the king immediately with the letter, but present service put it
off for some days.

The taking of Creutznach was the next service of any moment. The king
drew out in person to the siege of this town. The town soon came to
parley, but the castle seemed a work of difficulty, for its situation
was so strong and so surrounded with works behind and above one and
another, that most people thought the king would receive a check
from it; but it was not easy to resist the resolution of the King of
Sweden.

He never battered it but with two small pieces, but having viewed the
works himself, ordered a mine under the first ravelin, which being
sprung with success, he commands a storm. I think there was not
more commanded men than volunteers, both English, Scots, French, and
Germans. My old comrade was by this time recovered of his wound at
Leipsic, and made one. The first body of volunteers, of about forty,
were led on by my Lord Craven, and I led the second, among whom were
most of the reformado Scots officers who took the castle of Oppenheim.
The first party was not able to make anything of it; the garrison
fought with so much fury that many of the volunteer gentlemen being
wounded, and some killed, the rest were beaten off with loss. The king
was in some passion at his men, and rated them for running away, as he
called it, though they really retreated in good order, and commanded
the assault to be renewed. 'Twas our turn to fall on next. Our Scots
officers, not being used to be beaten, advanced immediately, and my
Lord Craven with his volunteers pierced in with us, fighting gallantly
in the breach with a pike in his hand; and, to give him the honour due
to his bravery, he was with the first on the top of the rampart, and
gave his hand to my comrade, and lifted him up after him. We helped
one another up, till at last almost all the volunteers had gained
the height of the ravelin, and maintained it with a great deal of
resolution, expecting when the commanded men had gained the same
height to advance upon the enemy; when one of the enemy's captains
called to my Lord Craven, and told him if they might have honourable
terms they would capitulate, which my lord telling him he would engage
for, the garrison fired no more, and the captain, leaping down from
the next rampart, came with my Lord Craven into the camp, where the
conditions were agreed on, and the castle surrendered.

After the taking of this town, the king, hearing of Tilly's approach,
and how he had beaten Gustavus Horn, the king's field-marshal, out of
Bamberg, began to draw his forces together, and leaving the care of
his conquests in these parts to his chancellor Oxenstiern, prepares to
advance towards Bavaria.

I had taken an opportunity to wait upon his Majesty with Sir John
Hepburn and being about to introduce the discourse of my father's
letter, the king told me he had received a compliment on my account
in a letter from King Charles. I told him his Majesty had by his
exceeding generosity bound me and all my friends to pay their
acknowledgments to him, and that I supposed my father had obtained
such a mention of it from the King of England, as gratitude moved him
to that his Majesty's favour had been shown in me to a family both
willing and ready to serve him, that I had received some commands from
my father, which, if his Majesty pleased to do me the honour to accept
of, might put me in a condition to acknowledge his Majesty's goodness
in a manner more proportioned to the sense I had of his favour; and
with that I produced my father's letter, and read that clause in it
which related to the regiment of horse, which was as follows:--

"I read with a great deal of satisfaction the account you give of the
great and extraordinary conquests of the King of Sweden, and with more
his Majesty's singular favour to you; I hope you will be careful to
value and deserve so much honour. I am glad you rather chose to serve
as a volunteer at your own charge, than to take any command, which,
for want of experience, you might misbehave in.

"I have obtained of the king that he will particularly thank his
Majesty of Sweden for the honour he has done you, and if his Majesty
gives you so much freedom, I could be glad you should in the humblest
manner thank his Majesty in the name of an old broken soldier.

"If you think yourself officer enough to command them, and his Majesty
pleased to accept them, I would have you offer to raise his Majesty
a regiment of horse, which, I think, I may near complete in our
neighbourhood with some of your old acquaintance, who are very willing
to see the world. If his Majesty gives you the word, they shall
receive his commands in the Maes, the king having promised me to give
them arms, and transport them for that service into Holland; and I
hope they may do his Majesty such service as may be for your honour
and the advantage of his Majesty's interest and glory."

"YOUR LOVING FATHER."

"'Tis an offer like a gentleman and like a soldier," says the king,"
and I'll accept of it on two conditions: first," says the king, "that
I will pay your father the advance money for the raising the regiment;
and next, that they shall be landed in the Weser or the Elbe; for
which, if the King of England will not, I will pay the passage; for
if they land in Holland, it may prove very difficult to get them to us
when the army shall be marched out of this part of the country."

I returned this answer to my father, and sent my man George into
England to order that regiment, and made him quartermaster. I sent
blank commissions for the officers, signed by the king, to be filled
up as my father should think fit; and when I had the king's order for
the commissions, the secretary told me I must go back to the king with
them. Accordingly I went back to the king, who, opening the packet,
laid all the commissions but one upon a table before him, and bade
me take them, and keeping that one still in his hand, "Now," says he,
"you are one of my soldiers," and therewith gave me his commission, as
colonel of horse in present pay. I took the commission kneeling,
and humbly thanked his Majesty. "But," says the king, "there is one
article-of-war I expect of you more than of others." "Your Majesty can
expect nothing of me which I shall not willingly comply with," said I,
"as soon as I have the honour to understand what it is." "Why, it is,"
says the king, "that you shall never fight but when you have orders,
for I shall not be willing to lose my colonel before I have the
regiment." "I shall be ready at all times, sir," returned I, "to obey
your Majesty's orders."

I sent my man express with the king's answer and the commission to my
father, who had the regiment completed in less than two months' time,
and six of the officers, with a list of the rest, came away to me,
whom I presented to his Majesty when he lay before Nuremberg, where
they kissed his hand.

One of the captains offered to bring the whole regiment travelling as
private men into the army in six weeks' time, and either to transport
their equipage, or buy it in Germany, but 'twas thought impracticable.
However, I had so many come in that manner that I had a complete troop
always about me, and obtained the king's order to muster them as a
troop.

On the 8th of March the king decamped, and, marching up the river
Maine, bent his course directly for Bavaria, taking several small
places by the way, and expecting to engage with Tilly, who he thought
would dispute his entrance into Bavaria, kept his army together; but
Tilly, finding himself too weak to encounter him, turned away, and
leaving Bavaria open to the king, marched into the Upper Palatinate.
The king finding the country clear of the Imperialists comes to
Nuremberg, made his entrance into that city the 21st of March, and
being nobly treated by the citizens, he continued his march into
Bavaria, and on the 26th sat down before Donauwerth. The town was
taken the next day by storm, so swift were the conquests of this
invincible captain. Sir John Hepburn, with the Scots and the English
volunteers at the head of them, entered the town first, and cut all
the garrison to pieces, except such as escaped over the bridge.

I had no share in the business of Donauwerth, being now among the
horse, but I was posted on the roads with five troops of horse, where
we picked up a great many stragglers of the garrison, whom we made
prisoners of war.

'Tis observable that this town of Donauwerth is a very strong place
and well fortified, and yet such expedition did the king make, and
such resolution did he use in his first attacks, that he carried the
town without putting himself to the trouble of formal approaches.
'Twas generally his way when he came before any town with a design to
besiege it; he never would encamp at a distance and begin his trenches
a great way off, but bring his men immediately within half musket-shot
of the place; there getting under the best cover he could, he would
immediately begin his batteries and trenches before their faces;
and if there was any place possibly to be attacked, he would fall to
storming immediately. By this resolute way of coming on he carried
many a town in the first heat of his men, which would have held out
many days against a more regular siege.

This march of the king broke all Tilly's measures, for now he was
obliged to face about, and leaving the Upper Palatinate, to come
to the assistance of the Duke of Bavaria; for the king being 20,000
strong, besides 10,000 foot and 4000 horse and dragoons which joined
him from the Duringer Wald, was resolved to ruin the duke, who lay
now open to him, and was the most powerful and inveterate enemy of the
Protestants in the empire.

Tilly was now joined with the Duke of Bavaria, and might together make
about 22,000 men, and in order to keep the Swedes out of the country
of Bavaria, had planted themselves along the banks of the river Lech,
which runs on the edge of the duke's territories; and having fortified
the other side of the river, and planted his cannon for several miles
at all the convenient places on the river, resolved to dispute the
king's passage.

I shall be the longer in relating this account of the Lech, being
esteemed in those days as great an action as any battle or siege of
that age, and particularly famous for the disaster of the gallant old
General Tilly; and for that I can be more particular in it than other
accounts, having been an eye-witness to every part of it.

The king being truly informed of the disposition of the Bavarian army,
was once of the mind to have left the banks of the Lech, have repassed
the Danube, and so setting down before Ingolstadt, the duke's capital
city, by the taking that strong town to have made his entrance into
Bavaria, and the conquest of such a fortress, one entire action;
but the strength of the place and the difficulty of maintaining his
leaguer in an enemy's country while Tilly was so strong in the field,
diverted him from that design; he therefore concluded that Tilly
was first to be beaten out of the country, and then the siege of
Ingolstadt would be the easier.

Whereupon the king resolved to go and view the situation of the enemy.
His Majesty went out the 2nd of April with a strong party of horse,
which I had the honour to command. We marched as near as we could
to the banks of the river, not to be too much exposed to the enemy's
cannon, and having gained a little height, where the whole course of
the river might be seen, the king halted, and commanded to draw up.
The king alighted, and calling me to him, examined every reach and
turning of the river by his glass, but finding the river run a long
and almost a straight course he could find no place which he liked;
but at last turning himself north, and looking down the stream, he
found the river, stretching a long reach, doubles short upon itself,
making a round and very narrow point. "There's a point will do our
business," says the king, "and if the ground be good I'll pass there,
let Tilly do his worst."

He immediately ordered a small party of horse to view the ground, and
to bring him word particularly how high the bank was on each side and
at the point. "And he shall have fifty dollars," says the king, "that
will bring me word how deep the water is." I asked his Majesty leave
to let me go, which he would by no means allow of; but as the party
was drawing out, a sergeant of dragoons told the king, if he pleased
to let him go disguised as a boor, he would bring him an account of
everything he desired. The king liked the notion well enough, and
the fellow being very well acquainted with the country, puts on a
ploughman's habit, and went away immediately with a long pole upon
his shoulder. The horse lay all this while in the woods, and the
king stood undiscerned by the enemy on the little hill aforesaid. The
dragoon with his long pole comes down boldly to the bank of the river,
and calling to the sentinels which Tilly had placed on the other
bank, talked with them, asked them if they could not help him over the
river, and pretended he wanted to come to them. At last being come to
the point where, as I said, the river makes a short turn, he stands
parleying with them a great while, and sometimes, pretending to wade
over, he puts his long pole into the water, then finding it pretty
shallow he pulls off his hose and goes in, still thrusting his pole in
before him, till being gotten up to his middle, he could reach beyond
him, where it was too deep, and so shaking his head, comes back again.
The soldiers on the other side, laughing at him, asked him if he could
swim? He said, "No," "Why, you fool you," says one of the sentinels,
"the channel of the river is twenty feet deep." "How do you know
that?" says the dragoon. "Why, our engineer," says he, "measured it
yesterday." This was what he wanted, but not yet fully satisfied,
"Ay, but," says he, "maybe it may not be very broad, and if one of you
would wade in to meet me till I could reach you with my pole, I'd give
him half a ducat to pull me over." The innocent way of his discourse
so deluded the soldiers, that one of them immediately strips and goes
in up to the shoulders, and our dragoon goes in on this side to meet
him; but the stream took t' other soldier away, and he being a good
swimmer, came swimming over to this side. The dragoon was then in a
great deal of pain for fear of being discovered, and was once going
to kill the fellow, and make off; but at last resolved to carry on the
humour, and having entertained the fellow with a tale of a tub, about
the Swedes stealing his oats, the fellow being a-cold wanted to be
gone, and he as willing to be rid of him, pretended to be very sorry
he could not get over the river, and so makes off.

By this, however, he learned both the depth and breadth of the
channel, the bottom and nature of both shores, and everything the king
wanted to know. We could see him from the hill by our glasses very
plain, and could see the soldier naked with him. Says the king, "He
will certainly be discovered and knocked on the head from the other
side: he is a fool," says the king, "he does not kill the fellow and
run off." But when the dragoon told his tale, the king was extremely
well satisfied with him, gave him a hundred dollars, and made him a
quartermaster to a troop of cuirassiers.

The king having farther examined the dragoon, he gave him a very
distinct account of the shore and the ground on this side, which he
found to be higher than the enemy's by ten or twelve foot, and a hard
gravel.

Hereupon the king resolves to pass there, and in order to it gives,
himself, particular directions for such a bridge as I believe never
army passed a river on before nor since.

His bridge was only loose planks laid upon large tressels in the same
homely manner as I have seen bricklayers raise a low scaffold to build
a brick wall; the tressels were made higher than one another to answer
to the river as it became deeper or shallower, and was all framed and
fitted before any appearance was made of attempting to pass.

When all was ready the king brings his army down to the bank of the
river, and plants his cannon as the enemy had done, some here and some
there, to amuse them.

At night, April 4th, the king commanded about 2000 men to march to
the point, and to throw up a trench on either side, and quite round
it with a battery of six pieces of cannon at each end, besides three
small mounts, one at the point and one of each side, which had each of
them two pieces upon them. This work was begun so briskly and so well
carried on, the king firing all the night from the other parts of
the river, that by daylight all the batteries at the new work were
mounted, the trench lined with 2000 musketeers, and all the utensils
of the bridge lay ready to be put together.

Now the Imperialists discovered the design, but it was too late
to hinder it; the musketeers in the great trench, and the five new
batteries, made such continual fire that the other bank, which, as
before, lay twelve feet below them, was too hot for the Imperialists;
whereupon Tilly, to be provided for the king at his coming over, falls
to work in a wood right against the point, and raises a great battery
for twenty pieces of cannon, with a breastwork or line, as near the
river as he could, to cover his men, thinking that when the king had
built his bridge he might easily beat it down with his cannon.

But the king had doubly prevented him, first by laying his bridge so
low that none of Tilly's shot could hurt it; for the bridge lay not
above half a foot above the water's edge, by which means the king, who
in that showed himself an excellent engineer, had secured it from
any batteries to be made within the land, and the angle of the bank
secured it from the remoter batteries on the other side, and the
continual fire of the cannon and small shot beat the Imperialists from
their station just against it, they having no works to cover them.

And in the second place, to secure his passage he sent over about
200 men, and after that 200 more, who had orders to cast up a large
ravelin on the other bank, just where he designed to land his bridge.
This was done with such expedition too, that it was finished before
night, and in condition to receive all the shot of Tilly's great
battery, and effectually covered his bridge. While this was doing the
king on his side lays over his bridge. Both sides wrought hard all
day and night, as if the spade, not the sword, had been to decide
the controversy, and that he had got the victory whose trenches and
batteries were first ready. In the meanwhile the cannon and musket
bullets flew like hail, and made the service so hot that both sides
had enough to do to make their men stand to their work. The king, in
the hottest of it, animated his men by his presence, and Tilly, to
give him his due, did the same; for the execution was so great, and
so many officers killed, General Altringer wounded, and two
sergeant-majors killed, that at last Tilly himself was obliged
to expose himself, and to come up to the very face of our line to
encourage his men, and give his necessary orders.

And here about one o'clock, much about the time that the king's
brigade and works were finished, and just as they said he had ordered
to fall on upon our ravelin with 3000 foot, was the brave old
Tilly slain with a musket ball in the thigh. He was carried off to
Ingolstadt, and lived some days after, but died of that wound the
same day as the king had his horse shot under him at the siege of that
town.

We made no question of passing the river here, having brought
everything so forward, and with such extraordinary success; but we
should have found it a very hot piece of work if Tilly had lived one
day more, and, if I may give my opinion of it, having seen Tilly's
battery and breastwork, in the face of which we must have passed the
river, I must say that, whenever we had marched, if Tilly had fallen
in with his horse and foot, placed in that trench, the whole army
would have passed as much danger as in the face of a strong town in
the storming a counterscarp. The king himself, when he saw with what
judgment Tilly had prepared his works, and what danger he must have
run, would often say that day's success was every way equal to the
victory of Leipsic.

Tilly being hurt and carried off, as if the soul of the army had been
lost, they began to draw off. The Duke of Bavaria took horse and rid
away as if he had fled out of battle for his life.

The other generals, with a little more caution, as well as courage,
drew off by degrees, sending their cannon and baggage away first, and
leaving some to continue firing on the bank of the river, to conceal
their retreat. The river preventing any intelligence, we knew nothing
of the disaster befallen them; and the king, who looked for blows,
having finished his bridge and ravelin, ordered to run a line with
palisadoes to take in more ground on the bank of the river, to cover
the first troops he should send over. This being finished the same
night, the king sends over a party of his guards to relieve the men
who were in the ravelin, and commanded 600 musketeers to man the new
line out of the Scots brigade.

Early in the morning a small party of Scots, commanded by one Captain
Forbes, of my Lord Reay's regiment, were sent out to learn something
of the enemy, the king observing they had not fired all night; and
while this party were abroad, the army stood in battalia; and my old
friend Sir John Hepburn, whom of all men the king most depended upon
for any desperate service, was ordered to pass the bridge with his
brigade, and to draw up without the line, with command to advance as
he found the horse, who were to second him, come over.

Sir John being passed without the trench, meets Captain Forbes with
some prisoners, and the good news of the enemy's retreat. He sends him
directly to the king, who was by this time at the head of his army,
in full battalia, ready to follow his vanguard, expecting a hot day's
work of it. Sir John sends messenger after messenger to the king,
entreating him to give him orders to advance; but the king would not
suffer him, for he was ever upon his guard, and would not venture a
surprise; so the army continued on this side the Lech all day and the
next night. In the morning the king sent for me, and ordered me to
draw out 300 horse, and a colonel with 600 horse, and a colonel with
800 dragoons, and ordered us to enter the wood by three ways, but
so as to be able to relieve one another; and then ordered Sir John
Hepburn with his brigade to advance to the edge of the wood to secure
our retreat, and at the same time commanded another brigade of foot to
pass the bridge, if need were, to second Sir John Hepburn, so warily
did this prudent general proceed.

We advanced with our horse into the Bavarian camp, which we found
forsaken. The plunder of it was inconsiderable, for the exceeding
caution the king had used gave them time to carry off all their
baggage. We followed them three or four miles, and returned to our
camp.

I confess I was most diverted that day with viewing the works which
Tilly had cast up, and must own again that had he not been taken off
we had met with as desperate a piece of work as ever was attempted.
The next day the rest of the cavalry came up to us, commanded by
Gustavus Horn, and the king and the whole army followed. We advanced
through the heart of Bavaria, took Rain at the first summons, and
several other small towns, and sat down before Augsburg.

Augsburg, though a Protestant city, had a Popish Bavarian garrison
in it of above 5000 men, commanded by a Fugger, a great family in
Bavaria. The governor had posted several little parties as out-scouts
at the distance of two miles and a half or three miles from the town.
The king, at his coming up to this town, sends me with my little troop
and three companies of dragoons to beat in these out-scouts. The first
party I lighted on was not above sixteen men, who had made a small
barricado across the road, and stood resolutely upon their guard. I
commanded the dragoons to alight and open the barricado, which, while
they resolutely performed, the sixteen men gave them two volleys of
their muskets, and through the enclosures made their retreat to a
turnpike about a quarter of a mile farther. We passed their first
traverse, and coming up to the turnpike, I found it defended by 200
musketeers. I prepared to attack them, sending word to the king how
strong the enemy was, and desired some foot to be sent me. My dragoons
fell on, and though the enemy made a very hot fire, had beat them from
this post before 200 foot, which the king had sent me, had come
up. Being joined with the foot, I followed the enemy, who retreated
fighting, till they came under the cannon of a strong redoubt, where
they drew up, and I could see another body of foot of about 300 join
them out of the works; upon which I halted, and considering I was in
view of the town, and a great way from the army, I faced about and
began to march off. As we marched I found the enemy followed, but
kept at a distance, as if they only designed to observe me. I had not
marched far, but I heard a volley of small shot, answered by two or
three more, which I presently apprehended to be at the turnpike,
where I had left a small guard of twenty-six men with a lieutenant.
Immediately I detached 100 dragoons to relieve my men and secure
my retreat, following myself as fast as the foot could march. The
lieutenant sent me back word the post was taken by the enemy, and my
men cut off. Upon this I doubled my pace, and when I came up I found
it as the lieutenant said; for the post was taken and manned with 300
musketeers and three troops of horse. By this time, also, I found the
party in my rear made up towards me, so that I was like to be charged
in a narrow place both in front and rear.

I saw there was no remedy but with all my force to fall upon that
party before me, and so to break through before those from the town
could come up with me; wherefore, commanding my dragoons to alight, I
ordered them to fall on upon the foot. Their horse were drawn up in
an enclosed field on one side of the road, a great ditch securing the
other side, so that they thought if I charged the foot in front they
would fall upon my flank, while those behind would charge my rear;
and, indeed, had the other come in time, they had cut me off. My
dragoons made three fair charges on their foot, but were received with
so much resolution and so brisk a fire, that they were beaten off, and
sixteen men killed. Seeing them so rudely handled, and the horse ready
to fall in, I relieved them with 100 musketeers, and they renewed
the attack; at the same time, with my troop of horse, flanked on both
wings with fifty musketeers, I faced their horse, but did not offer
to charge them. The case grew now desperate, and the enemy behind
were just at my heels with near 600 men. The captain who commanded the
musketeers who flanked my horse came up to me; says he, "If we do not
force this pass all will be lost; if you will draw out your troop and
twenty of my foot, and fall in, I'll engage to keep off the horse with
the rest." "With all my heart," says I.

Immediately I wheeled off my troop, and a small party of the
musketeers followed me, and fell in with the dragoons and foot, who,
seeing the danger too as well as I, fought like madmen. The foot at
the turnpike were not able to hinder our breaking through, so we
made our way out, killing about 150 of them, and put the rest into
confusion.

But now was I in as great a difficulty as before how to fetch off my
brave captain of foot, for they charged home upon him. He defended
himself with extraordinary gallantry, having the benefit of a piece of
a hedge to cover him, but he lost half his men, and was just upon
the point of being defeated when the king, informed by a soldier that
escaped from the turnpike, one of twenty-six, had sent a party of 600
dragoons to bring me off; these came upon the spur, and joined with
me just as I had broke through the turnpike. The enemy's foot rallied
behind their horse, and by this time their other party was come in;
but seeing our relief they drew off together.

I lost above 100 men in these skirmishes, and killed them about 180.
We secured the turnpike, and placed a company of foot there with 100
dragoons, and came back well beaten to the army. The king, to prevent
such uncertain skirmishes, advanced the next day in view of the town,
and, according to his custom, sits down with his whole army within
cannon-shot of their walls.

The King won this great city by force of words, for by two or three
messages and letters to and from the citizens, the town was gained,
the garrison not daring to defend them against their wills. His
Majesty made his public entrance into the city on the 14th of April,
and receiving the compliments of the citizens, advanced immediately to
Ingolstadt, which is accounted, and really is, the strongest town in
all these parts.

The town had a very strong garrison in it, and the Duke of Bavaria lay
entrenched with his army under the walls of it, on the other side of
the river. The king, who never loved long sieges, having viewed the
town, and brought his army within musket-shot of it, called a council
of war, where it was the king's opinion, in short, that the town would
lose him more than 'twas worth, and therefore he resolved to raise his
siege.

Here the king going to view the town had his horse shot with a
cannon-bullet from the works, which tumbled the king and his horse
over one another, that everybody thought he had been killed; but he
received no hurt at all. That very minute, as near as could be learnt,
General Tilly died in the town of the shot he received on the bank of
the Lech, as aforesaid.

I was not in the camp when the king was hurt, for the king had sent
almost all the horse and dragoons, under Gustavus Horn, to face the
Duke of Bavaria's camp, and after that to plunder the country; which
truly was a work the soldiers were very glad of, for it was very
seldom they had that liberty given them, and they made very good use
of it when it was, for the country of Bavaria was rich and plentiful,
having seen no enemy before during the whole war.

The army having left the siege of Ingolstadt, proceeds to take in the
rest of Bavaria. Sir John Hepburn, with three brigades of foot, and
Gustavus Horn, with 3000 horse and dragoons, went to the Landshut, and
took it the same day. The garrison was all horse, and gave us several
camisadoes at our approach, in one of which I lost two of my
troops, but when we had beat them into close quarters they presently
capitulated. The general got a great sum of money of the town, besides
a great many presents to the officers. And from thence the king
went on to Munich, the Duke of Bavaria's court. Some of the general
officers would fain have had the plundering of the duke's palace, but
the king was too generous. The city paid him 400,000 dollars; and the
duke's magazine was there seized, in which was 140 pieces of cannon,
and small arms for above 20,000 men. The great chamber of the duke's
rarities was preserved, by the king's special order, with a great deal
of care. I expected to have stayed here some time, and to have taken
a very exact account of this curious laboratory; but being commanded
away, I had no time, and the fate of the war never gave me opportunity
to see it again.

The Imperialists, under the command of Commissary Osta, had
besieged Biberach, an Imperial city not very well fortified; and the
inhabitants being under the Swedes' protection, defended themselves
as well as they could, but were in great danger, and sent several
expresses to the king for help.

The king immediately detaches a strong body of horse and foot to
relieve Biberach, and would be the commander himself. I marched among
the horse, but the Imperialists saved us the labour; for the news
of the king's coming frighted away Osta, that he left Biberach,
and hardly looked behind him till he got up to the Bodensee, on the
confines of Switzerland.

At our return from this expedition the king had the first news of
Wallenstein's approach, who, on the death of Count Tilly, being
declared generalissimo of the emperor's forces, had played the tyrant
in Bohemia, and was now advancing with 60,000 men, as they reported,
to relieve the Duke of Bavaria.

The king, therefore, in order to be in a posture to receive this great
general, resolves to quit Bavaria, and to expect him on the frontiers
of Franconia. And because he knew the Nurembergers for their kindness
to him would be the first sacrifice, he resolved to defend that city
against him whatever it cost.

Nevertheless he did not leave Bavaria without a defence; but, on the
one hand, he left Sir John Baner with 10,000 men about Augsburg, and
the Duke of Saxe-Weimar with another like army about Ulm and Meningen,
with orders so to direct their march as that they might join him upon
any occasion in a few days.

We encamped about Nuremberg the middle of June. The army, after so
many detachments, was not above 19,000 men. The Imperial army, joined
with the Bavarian, were not so numerous as was reported, but were
really 60,000 men. The king, not strong enough to fight, yet, as he
used to say, was strong enough not to be forced to fight, formed his
camp so under the cannon of Nuremberg that there was no besieging the
town but they must besiege him too; and he fortified his camp in so
formidable a manner that Wallenstein never durst attack him. On the
30th of June Wallenstein's troops appeared, and on the 5th of July
encamped close by the king, and posted themselves not on the Bavarian
side, but between the king and his own friends of Schwaben and
Frankenland, in order to intercept his provisions, and, as they
thought, to starve him out of his camp.

Here they lay to see, as it were, who could subsist longest. The king
was strong in horse, for we had full 8000 horse and dragoons in the
army, and this gave us great advantage in the several skirmishes we
had with the enemy. The enemy had possession of the whole country, and
had taken effectual care to furnish their army with provisions; they
placed their guards in such excellent order, to secure their convoys,
that their waggons went from stage to stage as quiet as in a time of
peace, and were relieved every five miles by parties constantly
posted on the road. And thus the Imperial general sat down by us, not
doubting but he should force the king either to fight his way through
on very disadvantageous terms, or to rise for want of provisions, and
leave the city of Nuremberg a prey to his army; for he had vowed the
destruction of the city, and to make it a second Magdeburg.

But the king, who was not to be easily deceived, had countermined all
Wallenstein's designs. He had passed his honour to the Nurembergers
that he would not leave them, and they had undertaken to victual his
army, and secure him from want, which they did so effectually, that
he had no occasion to expose his troops to any hazard or fatigues for
convoys or forage on any account whatever.

The city of Nuremberg is a very rich and populous city, and the king
being very sensible of their danger, had given his word for their
defence. And when they, being terrified at the threats of the
Imperialists, sent their deputies to beseech the king to take care of
them, he sent them word he would, and be besieged with them. They, on
the other hand, laid in such stores of all sorts of provision, both
for men and horse, that had Wallenstein lain before it six months
longer, there would have been no scarcity. Every private house was
a magazine, the camp was plentifully supplied with all manner of
provisions, and the market always full, and as cheap as in times of
peace. The magistrates were so careful, and preserved so excellent an
order in the disposal of all sorts of provision, that no engrossing of
corn could be practised, for the prices were every day directed at the
town-house; and if any man offered to demand more money for corn than
the stated price, he could not sell, because at the town store-house
you might buy cheaper. Here are two instances of good and bad conduct:
the city of Magdeburg had been entreated by the king to settle funds,
and raise money for their provision and security, and to have a
sufficient garrison to defend them, but they made difficulties, either
to raise men for themselves, or to admit the king's troops to assist
them, for fear of the charge of maintaining them; and this was the
cause of the city's ruin.

The city of Nuremberg opened their arms to receive the assistance
proffered by the Swedes, and their purses to defend their town
and common cause; and this was the saving them absolutely from
destruction. The rich burghers and magistrates kept open houses, where
the officers of the army were always welcome; and the council of the
city took such care of the poor that there was no complaining nor
disorders in the whole city. There is no doubt but it cost the city
a great deal of money; but I never saw a public charge borne with so
much cheerfulness, nor managed with so much prudence and conduct in my
life. The city fed above 50,000 mouths every day, including their own
poor, besides themselves; and yet when the king had lain thus three
months, and finding his armies longer in coming up than he expected,
asked the burgrave how their magazines held out, he answered, they
desired his Majesty not to hasten things for them, for they could
maintain themselves and him twelve months longer if there was
occasion. This plenty kept both the army and city in good health, as
well as in good heart; whereas nothing was to be had of us but blows,
for we fetched nothing from without our works, nor had no business
without the line but to interrupt the enemy.

The manner of the king's encampment deserves a particular chapter.
He was a complete surveyor and a master in fortification, not to be
outdone by anybody. He had posted his army in the suburbs of the town,
and drawn lines round the whole circumference, so that he begirt
the whole city with his army. His works were large, the ditch deep,
flanked with innumerable bastions, ravelins, horn-works, forts,
redoubts, batteries, and palisadoes, the incessant work of 8000 men
for about fourteen days; besides that, the king was adding something
or other to it every day, and the very posture of his camp was
enough to tell a bigger army than Wallenstein's that he was not to be
assaulted in his trenches.

The king's design appeared chiefly to be the preservation of the
city; but that was not all. He had three armies acting abroad in
three several places. Gustavus Horn was on the Moselle, the chancellor
Oxenstiern about Mentz, Cologne, and the Rhine, Duke William and
Duke Bernhard, together with General Baner, in Bavaria. And though he
designed they should all join him, and had wrote to them all to that
purpose, yet he did not hasten them, knowing that while he kept the
main army at bay about Nuremberg, they would, without opposition,
reduce those several countries they were acting in to his power. This
occasioned his lying longer in the camp at Nuremberg than he would
have done, and this occasioned his giving the Imperialists so many
alarms by his strong parties of horse, of which he was well provided,
that they might not be able to make any considerable detachments for
the relief of their friends. And here he showed his mastership in the
war, for by this means his conquests went on as effectually as if he
had been abroad himself.

In the meantime it was not to be expected two such armies should lie
long so near without some action. The Imperial army, being masters
of the field, laid the country for twenty miles round Nuremberg in a
manner desolate. What the inhabitants could carry away had been before
secured in such strong towns as had garrisons to protect them,
and what was left the hungry Crabats devoured or set on fire; but
sometimes they were met with by our men, who often paid them home for
it. There had passed several small rencounters between our parties
and theirs; and as it falls out in such cases, sometimes one side,
sometimes the other, got the better. But I have observed there never
was any party sent out by the king's special appointment but always
came home with victory.

The first considerable attempt, as I remember, was made on a convoy of
ammunition. The party sent out was commanded by a Saxon colonel, and
consisted of 1000 horse and 500 dragoons, who burnt above 600 waggons
loaded with ammunition and stores for the army, besides taking about
2000 muskets, which they brought back to the army.

The latter end of July the king received advice that the Imperialists
had formed a magazine for provision at a town called Freynstat, twenty
miles from Nuremberg. Hither all the booty and contributions raised in
the Upper Palatinate, and parts adjacent, was brought and laid up as
in a place of security, a garrison of 600 men being placed to defend
it; and when a quantity of provisions was got together, convoys were
appointed to fetch it off.

The king was resolved, if possible, to take or destroy this magazine;
and sending for Colonel Dubalt, a Swede, and a man of extraordinary
conduct, he tells him his design, and withal that he must be the man
to put it in execution, and ordered him to take what forces he thought
convenient. The colonel, who knew the town very well, and the country
about it, told his Majesty he would attempt it with all his heart; but
he was afraid 'twould require some foot to make the attack. "But we
can't stay for that," says the king; "you must then take some dragoons
with you;" and immediately the king called for me. I was just coming
up the stairs as the king's page was come out to inquire for me, so
I went immediately in to the king. "Here is a piece of hot work
for you," says the king, "Dubalt will tell it you; go together and
contrive it."

We immediately withdrew, and the colonel told me the design, and what
the king and he had discoursed; that, in his opinion, foot would be
wanted: but the king had declared there was no time for the foot to
march, and had proposed dragoons. I told him, I thought dragoons might
do as well; so we agreed to take 1600 horse and 400 dragoons. The
king, impatient in his design, came into the room to us to know what
we had resolved on, approved our measures, gave us orders immediately;
and, turning to me, "You shall command the dragoons," says the king,
"but Dubalt must be general in this case, for he knows the country."
"Your Majesty," said I, "shall be always served by me in any figure
you please." The king wished us good speed, and hurried us away the
same afternoon, in order to come to the place in time. We marched
slowly on because of the carriages we had with us, and came to
Freynstat about one o'clock in the night perfectly undiscovered. The
guards were so negligent, that we came to the very port before they
had notice of us, and a sergeant with twelve dragoons thrust in upon
the out-sentinels, and killed them without noise.

Immediately ladders were placed to the half-moon which defended
the gate, which the dragoons mounted and carried in a trice, about
twenty-eight men being cut in pieces within. As soon as the ravelin
was taken, they burst open the gate, at which I entered at the head of
200 dragoons, and seized the drawbridge. By this time the town was
in alarm, and the drums beat to arms, but it was too late, for by the
help of a petard we broke open the gate, and entered the town. The
garrison made an obstinate fight for about half-an-hour, but our
men being all in, and three troops of horse dismounted coming to our
assistance with their carabines, the town was entirely mastered by
three of the clock, and guards set to prevent anybody running to give
notice to the enemy. There were about 200 of the garrison killed, and
the rest taken prisoners. The town being thus secured, the gates were
opened, and Colonel Dubalt came in with the horse.

The guards being set, we entered the magazine, where we found an
incredible quantity of all sorts of provision. There was 150 tons of
bread, 8000 sacks of meal, 4000 sacks of oats, and of other provisions
in proportion. We caused as much of it as could be loaded to be
brought away in such waggons and carriages as we found, and set the
rest on fire, town and all. We stayed by it till we saw it past a
possibility of being saved, and then drew off with 800 waggons, which
we found in the place, most of which we loaded with bread, meal, and
oats. While we were doing this we sent a party of dragoons into the
fields, who met us again as we came out, with above 1000 head of black
cattle, besides sheep.

Our next care was to bring this booty home without meeting with the
enemy, to secure which, the colonel immediately despatched an
express to the king, to let him know of our success, and to desire a
detachment might be made to secure our retreat, being charged with so
much plunder.

And it was no more than need; for though we had used all the diligence
possible to prevent any notice, yet somebody, more forward than
ordinary, had escaped away, and carried news of it to the Imperial
army. The general, upon this bad news, detaches Major-General Sparr
with a body of 6000 men to cut off our retreat. The king, who had
notice of this detachment, marches out in person with 3000 men to wait
upon General Sparr. All this was the account of one day. The king met
General Sparr at the moment when his troops were divided, fell upon
them, routed one part of them, and the rest in a few hours after,
killed them 1000 men, and took the general prisoner.

In the interval of this action we came safe to the camp with our
booty, which was very considerable, and would have supplied our whole
army for a month. Thus we feasted at the enemy's cost, and beat them
into the bargain.

The king gave all the live cattle to the Nurembergers, who, though
they had really no want of provisions, yet fresh meat was not so
plentiful as such provisions which were stored up in vessels and laid
by.

After this skirmish we had the country more at command than before,
and daily fetched in fresh provisions and forage in the fields.

The two armies had now lain a long time in sight of one another,
and daily skirmishes had considerably weakened them; and the king,
beginning to be impatient, hastened the advancement of his friends
to join him, in which also they were not backward; but having
drawn together their forces from several parts, and all joined the
chancellor Oxenstiern, news came, the 15th of August, that they were
in full march to join us; and being come to a small town called Brock,
the king went out of the camp with about 1000 horse to view them. I
went along with the horse, and the 21st of August saw the review
of all the armies together, which were 30,000 men, in extraordinary
equipage, old soldiers, and commanded by officers of the greatest
conduct and experience in the world. There was the rich chancellor of
Sweden, who commanded as general; Gustavus Horn and John Baner, both
Swedes and old generals; Duke William and Duke Bernhard of Weimar; the
Landgrave of Hesse-Cassel, the Palatine of Birkenfelt, and abundance
of princes and lords of the empire.

The armies being joined, the king, who was now a match for
Wallenstein, quits his camp and draws up in battalia before the
Imperial trenches: but the scene was changed. Wallenstein was no more
able to fight now than the king was before; but, keeping within his
trenches, stood upon his guard. The king coming up close to his
works, plants batteries, and cannonaded him in his very camp. The
Imperialists, finding the king press upon them, retreat into a woody
country about three leagues, and, taking possession of an old ruined
castle, posted their army behind it.

This old castle they fortified, and placed a very strong guard there.
The king, having viewed the place, though it was a very strong post,
resolved to attack it with the whole right wing. The attack was made
with a great deal of order and resolution, the king leading the first
party on with sword in hand, and the fight was maintained on both
sides with the utmost gallantry and obstinacy all the day and the next
night too, for the cannon and musket never gave over till the morning;
but the Imperialists having the advantage of the hill, of their works
and batteries, and being continually relieved, and the Swedes naked,
without cannon or works, the post was maintained, and the king,
finding it would cost him too much blood, drew off in the morning.

This was the famous fight at Altemberg, where the Imperialists boasted
to have shown the world the King of Sweden was not invincible. They
call it the victory at Altemberg; 'tis true the king failed in his
attempt of carrying their works, but there was so little of a victory
in it, that the Imperial general thought fit not to venture a second
brush, but to draw off their army as soon as they could to a safer
quarter.

I had no share in this attack, very few of the horse being in the
action, but my comrade, who was always among the Scots volunteers, was
wounded and taken prisoner by the enemy. They used him very civilly,
and the king and Wallenstein straining courtesies with one another,
the king released Major-General Sparr without ransom, and the Imperial
general sent home Colonel Tortenson, a Swede, and sixteen volunteer
gentlemen, who were taken in the heat of the action, among whom my
captain was one.

The king lay fourteen days facing the Imperial army, and using all
the stratagems possible to bring them to a battle, but to no purpose,
during which time we had parties continually out, and very often
skirmishes with the enemy.

I had a command of one of these parties in an adventure, wherein I got
no booty, nor much honour. The King had received advice of a convoy
of provisions which was to come to the enemy's camp from the Upper
Palatinate, and having a great mind to surprise them, he commanded
us to waylay them with 1200 horse, and 800 dragoons. I had exact
directions given me of the way they were to come, and posting my horse
in a village a little out of the road, I lay with my dragoons in a
wood, by which they were to pass by break of day. The enemy appeared
with their convoy, and being very wary, their out-scouts discovered us
in the wood, and fired upon the sentinel I had posted in a tree at
the entrance of the wood. Finding myself discovered, I would have
retreated to the village where my horse were posted, but in a moment
the wood was skirted with the enemy's horse, and 1000 commanded
musketeers advanced to beat me out. In this pickle I sent away three
messengers one after another for the horse, who were within two miles
of me, to advance to my relief; but all my messengers fell into the
enemy's hands. Four hundred of my dragoons on foot, whom I had placed
at a little distance before me, stood to their work, and beat off two
charges of the enemy's foot with some loss on both sides. Meantime 200
of my men faced about, and rushing out of the wood, broke through
a party of the enemy's horse, who stood to watch our coming out. I
confess I was exceedingly surprised at it, thinking those fellows had
done it to make their escape, or else were gone over to the enemy; and
my men were so discouraged at it, that they began to look about
which way to run to save themselves, and were just upon the point of
disbanding to shift for themselves, when one of the captains called
to me aloud to beat a parley and treat. I made no answer, but, as if
I had not heard him, immediately gave the word for all the captains to
come together. The consultation was but short, for the musketeers were
advancing to a third charge, with numbers which we were not likely to
deal with. In short, we resolved to beat a parley, and demand quarter,
for that was all we could expect, when on a sudden the body of horse
I had posted in the village, being directed by the noise, had advanced
to relieve me, if they saw occasion, and had met the 200 dragoons,
who guided them directly to the spot where they had broke through, and
altogether fell upon the horse of the enemy, who were posted on that
side, and, mastering them before they could be relieved, cut them all
to pieces and brought me off. Under the shelter of this party, we made
good our retreat to the village, but we lost above 300 men, and were
glad to make off from the village too, for the enemy were very much
too strong for us.

Returning thence towards the camp, we fell foul with 200 Crabats, who
had been upon the plundering account. We made ourselves some amends
upon them for our former loss, for we showed them no mercy; but our
misfortunes were not ended, for we had but just despatched those
Crabats when we fell in with 3000 Imperial horse, who, on the
expectation of the aforesaid convoy, were sent out to secure them.
All I could do could not persuade my men to stand their ground against
this party; so that finding they would run away in confusion, I agreed
to make off, and facing to the right, we went over a large common
a full trot, till at last fear, which always increases in a flight,
brought us to a plain flight, the enemy at our heels. I must confess
I was never so mortified in my life; 'twas to no purpose to turn head,
no man would stand by us; we run for life, and a great many we left by
the way who were either wounded by the enemy's shot, or else could not
keep race with us.

At last, having got over the common, which was near two miles, we came
to a lane; one of our captains, a Saxon by country, and a gentleman of
a good fortune, alighted at the entrance of the lane, and with a bold
heart faced about, shot his own horse, and called his men to stand by
him and defend the lane. Some of his men halted, and we rallied about
600 men, which we posted as well as we could, to defend the pass;
but the enemy charged us with great fury. The Saxon gentleman, after
defending himself with exceeding gallantry, and refusing quarter, was
killed upon the spot. A German dragoon, as I thought him, gave me a
rude blow with the stock of his piece on the side of my head, and was
just going to repeat it, when one of my men shot him dead. I was so
stunned with the blow, that I knew nothing; but recovering, I found
myself in the hands of two of the enemy's officers, who offered me
quarter, which I accepted; and indeed, to give them their due, they
used me very civilly. Thus this whole party was defeated, and not
above 500 men got safe to the army; nor had half the number escaped,
had not the Saxon captain made so bold a stand at the head of the
lane.

Several other parties of the king's army revenged our quarrel, and
paid them home for it; but I had a particular loss in this defeat,
that I never saw the king after; for though his Majesty sent a trumpet
to reclaim us as prisoners the very next day, yet I was not delivered,
some scruple happening about exchanging, till after the battle of
Lützen, where that gallant prince lost his life.

The Imperial army rose from their camp about eight or ten days after
the king had removed, and I was carried prisoner in the army till they
sat down to the siege of Coburg Castle, and then was left with other
prisoners of war, in the custody of Colonel Spezuter, in a small
castle near the camp called Neustadt. Here we continued indifferent
well treated, but could learn nothing of what action the armies were
upon, till the Duke of Friedland, having been beaten off from the
castle of Coburg, marched into Saxony, and the prisoners were sent for
into the camp, as was said, in order to be exchanged.

I came into the Imperial leaguer at the siege of Leipsic, and within
three days after my coming, the city was surrendered, and I got
liberty to lodge at my old quarters in the town upon my parole.

The King of Sweden was at the heels of the Imperialists, for finding
Wallenstein resolved to ruin the Elector of Saxony, the king had
re-collected as much of his divided army as he could, and came upon
him just as he was going to besiege Torgau.

As it is not my design to write a history of any more of these wars
than I was actually concerned in, so I shall only note that, upon
the king's approach, Wallenstein halted, and likewise called all his
troops together, for he apprehended the king would fall on him, and
we that were prisoners fancied the Imperial soldiers went unwillingly
out, for the very name of the King of Sweden was become terrible to
them. In short, they drew all the soldiers of the garrison they could
spare out of Leipsic; sent for Pappenheim again, who was gone but
three days before with 6000 men on a private expedition. On the 16th
of November, the armies met on the plains of Lützen; a long and bloody
battle was fought, the Imperialists were entirely routed and beaten,
12,000 slain upon the spot, their cannon, baggage, and 2000 prisoners
taken, but the King of Sweden lost his life, being killed at the head
of his troops in the beginning of the fight.

It is impossible to describe the consternation the death of this
conquering king struck into all the princes of Germany; the grief
for him exceeded all manner of human sorrow. All people looked upon
themselves as ruined and swallowed up; the inhabitants of two-thirds
of all Germany put themselves into mourning for him; when the
ministers mentioned him in their sermons or prayers, whole
congregations would burst out into tears. The Elector of Saxony was
utterly inconsolable, and would for several days walk about his palace
like a distracted man, crying the saviour of Germany was lost, the
refuge of abused princes was gone, the soul of the war was dead; and
from that hour was so hopeless of out-living the war, that he sought
to make peace with the emperor.

Three days after this mournful victory, the Saxons recovered the town
of Leipsic by stratagem. The Duke of Saxony's forces lay at Torgau,
and perceiving the confusion the Imperialists were in at the news of
the overthrow of their army, they resolved to attempt the recovery of
the town. They sent about twenty scattering troopers, who, pretending
themselves to be Imperialists fled from the battle, were let in one by
one, and still as they came in, they stayed at the court of guard in
the port, entertaining the soldiers with discourse about the fight,
and how they escaped, and the like, till the whole number being got
in, at a watchword they fell on the guard, and cut them all in pieces;
and immediately opening the gate to three troops of Saxon horse, the
town was taken in a moment.

It was a welcome surprise to me, for I was at liberty of course; and
the war being now on another foot, as I thought, and the king dead, I
resolved to quit the service.

I had sent my man, as I have already noted, into England, in order to
bring over the troops my father had raised for the King of Sweden. He
executed his commission so well, that he landed with five troops at
Embden in very good condition; and orders were sent them by the king,
to join the Duke of Lunenberg's army, which they did at the siege of
Boxtude, in the Lower Saxony. Here by long and very sharp service
they were most of them cut off, and though they were several times
recruited, yet I understood there were not three full troops left.

The Duke of Saxe-Weimar, a gentleman of great courage, had the command
of the army after the king's death, and managed it with so much
prudence, that all things were in as much order as could be expected,
after so great a loss; for the Imperialists were everywhere beaten,
and Wallenstein never made any advantage of the king's death.

I waited on him at Heilbronn, whither he was gone to meet the great
chancellor of Sweden, where I paid him my respects, and desired he
would bestow the remainder of my regiment on my comrade the captain,
which he did with all the civility and readiness imaginable. So I took
my leave of him, and prepared to come for England.

I shall only note this, that at this Diet, the Protestant princes of
the empire renewed their league with one another, and with the crown
of Sweden, and came to several regulations and conclusions for the
carrying on the war, which they afterwards prosecuted, under the
direction of the said chancellor of Sweden. But it was not the work of
a small difficulty nor of a short time. And having been persuaded
to continue almost two years afterwards at Frankfort, Heilbronn, and
there-about, by the particular friendship of that noble wise man, and
extraordinary statesman, Axeli Oxenstiern, chancellor of Sweden, I had
opportunity to be concerned in, and present at, several treaties of
extraordinary consequence, sufficient for a history, if that were my
design.

Particularly I had the happiness to be present at, and have some
concern in, the treaty for the restoring the posterity of the truly
noble Palsgrave, King of Bohemia. King James of England had indeed too
much neglected the whole family; and I may say with authority enough,
from my own knowledge of affairs, had nothing been done for them but
what was from England, that family had remained desolate and forsaken
to this day.

But that glorious king, whom I can never mention without some remark
of his extraordinary merit, had left particular instructions with his
chancellor to rescue the Palatinate to its rightful lord, as a proof
of his design to restore the liberty of Germany, and reinstate the
oppressed princes who were subjected to the tyranny of the house of
Austria.

Pursuant to this resolution, the chancellor proceeded very much like
a man of honour; and though the King of Bohemia was dead a little
before, yet he carefully managed the treaty, answered the objections
of several princes, who, in the general ruin of the family, had
reaped private advantages, settled the capitulations for the quota of
contributions very much for their advantage, and fully reinstalled
the Prince Charles in the possession of all his dominions in the Lower
Palatinate, which afterwards was confirmed to him and his posterity by
the peace of Westphalia, where all these bloody wars were finished
in a peace, which has since been the foundation of the Protestants'
liberty, and the best security of the whole empire.

I spent two years rather in wandering up and down than travelling;
for though I had no mind to serve, yet I could not find in my heart to
leave Germany; and I had obtained some so very close intimacies with
the general officers that I was often in the army, and sometimes they
did me the honour to bring me into their councils of war.

Particularly, at that eminent council before the battle of Nördlingen,
I was invited to the council of war, both by Duke Bernhard of Weimar
and by Gustavus Horn. They were generals of equal worth, and their
courage and experience had been so well, and so often tried, that more
than ordinary regard was always given to what they said. Duke Bernhard
was indeed the younger man, and Gustavus had served longer under our
great schoolmaster the king; but it was hard to judge which was the
better general, since both had experience enough, and shown undeniable
proofs both of their bravery and conduct.

I am obliged, in the course of my relation, so often to mention the
great respect I often received from these great men, that it makes me
sometimes jealous, lest the reader may think I affect it as a vanity.
The truth is, that I am ready to confess, the honours I received, upon
all occasions, from persons of such worth, and who had such an eminent
share in the greatest action of that age, very much pleased me, and
particularly, as they gave me occasions to see everything that was
doing on the whole stage of the war. For being under no command,
but at liberty to rove about, I could come to no Swedish garrison or
party, but, sending my name to the commanding officer, I could have
the word sent me; and if I came into the army, I was often treated as
I was now at this famous battle of Nördlingen.

But I cannot but say, that I always looked upon this particular
respect to be the effect of more than ordinary regard the great king
of Sweden always showed me, rather than any merit of my own; and the
veneration they all had for his memory, made them continue to show me
all the marks of a suitable esteem.

But to return to the council of war, the great and, indeed, the only
question before us was, Shall we give battle to the Imperialists, or
not? Gustavus Horn was against it, and gave, as I thought, the most
invincible arguments against a battle that reason could imagine.

First, they were weaker than the enemy by above 5000 men.

Secondly, the Cardinal-Infant of Spain, who was in the Imperial army
with 8000 men, was but there _en passant_, being going from Italy to
Flanders, to take upon him the government of the Low Countries; and if
he saw no prospect of immediate action, would be gone in a few days.

Thirdly, they had two reinforcements, one of 5000 men, under the
command of Colonel Cratz, and one of 7000 men, under the Rhinegrave,
who were just at hand--the last within three days' march of them: and,

Lastly, they had already saved their honour; in that they had put 600
foot into the town of Nördlingen, in the face of the enemy's army, and
consequently the town might hold out some days the longer.

Fate, rather than reason, certainly blinded the rest of the generals
against such arguments as these. Duke Bernhard and almost all the
generals were for fighting, alleging the affront it would be to the
Swedish reputation to see their friends in the town lost before their
faces.

Gustavus Horn stood stiff to his cautious advice, and was against it,
and I thought the Baron D'Offkirk treated him a little indecently;
for, being very warm in the matter, he told them, that if Gustavus
Adolphus had been governed by such cowardly counsel, he had never
been conqueror of half Germany in two years. "No," replied old General
Horn, very smartly, "but he had been now alive to have testified for
me, that I was never taken by him for a coward: and yet," says he,
"the king was never for a victory with a hazard, when he could have it
without."

I was asked my opinion, which I would have declined, being in no
commission; but they pressed me to speak. I told them I was for
staying at least till the Rhinegrave came up, who, at least, might, if
expresses were sent to hasten him, be up with us in twenty-four hours.
But Offkirk could not hold his passion, and had not he been overruled
he would have almost quarrelled with Marshal Horn. Upon which the old
general, not to foment him, with a great deal of mildness stood up,
and spoke thus--

"Come, Offkirk," says he, "I'll submit my opinion to you, and the
majority of our fellow-soldiers. We will fight, but, upon my word, we
shall have our hands full."

The resolution thus taken, they attacked the Imperial army. I must
confess the counsels of this day seemed as confused as the resolutions
of the night.

Duke Bernhard was to lead the van of the left wing, and to post
himself upon a hill which was on the enemy's right without their
entrenchments, so that, having secured that post, they might level
their cannon upon the foot, who stood behind the lines, and relieved
the town at pleasure. He marched accordingly by break of day, and
falling with great fury upon eight regiments of foot, which were
posted at the foot of the hill, he presently routed them, and made
himself master of the post. Flushed with this success, he never
regards his own concerted measures of stopping there and possessing
what he had got, but pushes on and falls in with the main body of the
enemy's army.

While this was doing, Gustavus Horn attacks another post on the hill,
where the Spaniards had posted and lodged themselves behind some
works they had cast up on the side of the hill. Here they defended
themselves with extreme obstinacy for five hours, and at last obliged
the Swedes to give it over with loss. This extraordinary gallantry of
the Spaniards was the saving of the Imperial army; for Duke
Bernhard having all this while resisted the frequent charges of the
Imperialists, and borne the weight of two-thirds of their army, was
not able to stand any longer, but sending one messenger on the neck of
another to Gustavus Horn for more foot, he, finding he could not carry
his point, had given it over, and was in full march to second the
duke. But now it was too late, for the King of Hungary seeing the
duke's men, as it were, wavering, and having notice of Horn's wheeling
about to second him, falls in with all his force upon his flank,
and with his Hungarian hussars, made such a furious charge, that the
Swedes could stand no longer.

The rout of the left wing was so much the more unhappy, as it happened
just upon Gustavus Horn's coming up; for, being pushed on with the
enemies at their heels, they were driven upon their own friends, who,
having no ground to open and give them way, were trodden down by their
own runaway brethren. This brought all into the utmost confusion.
The Imperialists cried "Victoria!" and fell into the middle of the
infantry with a terrible slaughter.

I have always observed, 'tis fatal to upbraid an old experienced
officer with want of courage. If Gustavus Horn had not been whetted
with the reproaches of the Baron D'Offkirk, and some of the other
general officers, I believe it had saved the lives of a thousand men;
for when all was thus lost, several officers advised him to make a
retreat with such regiments as he had yet unbroken; but nothing could
persuade him to stir a foot. But turning his flank into a front, he
saluted the enemy, as they passed by him in pursuit of the rest,
with such terrible volleys of small shot, as cost them the lives of
abundance of their men.

The Imperialists, eager in the pursuit, left him unbroken, till the
Spanish brigade came up and charged him. These he bravely repulsed
with a great slaughter, and after them a body of dragoons; till being
laid at on every side, and most of his men killed, the brave old
general, with all the rest who were left, were made prisoners.

The Swedes had a terrible loss here, for almost all their infantry
were killed or taken prisoners. Gustavus Horn refused quarter several
times; and still those that attacked him were cut down by his men,
who fought like furies, and by the example of their general, behaved
themselves like lions. But at last, these poor remains of a body of
the bravest men in the world were forced to submit. I have heard him
say, he had much rather have died than been taken, but that he yielded
in compassion to so many brave men as were about him; for none of them
would take quarter till he gave his consent.

I had the worst share in this battle that ever I had in any action of
my life; and that was to be posted among as brave a body of horse as
any in Germany, and yet not be able to succour our own men; but
our foot were cut in pieces (as it were) before our faces, and the
situation of the ground was such as we could not fall in. All that we
were able to do, was to carry off about 2000 of the foot, who, running
away in the rout of the left wing, rallied among our squadrons, and
got away with us. Thus we stood till we saw all was lost, and then
made the best retreat we could to save ourselves, several regiments
having never charged, nor fired a shot; for the foot had so
embarrassed themselves among the lines and works of the enemy, and in
the vineyards and mountains, that the horse were rendered absolutely
unserviceable.

The Rhinegrave had made such expedition to join us, that he reached
within three miles of the place of action that night, and he was a
great safeguard for us in rallying our dispersed men, who else had
fallen into the enemy's hands, and in checking the pursuit of the
enemy.

And indeed, had but any considerable body of the foot made an orderly
retreat, it had been very probable they had given the enemy a brush
that would have turned the scale of victory; for our horse being
whole, and in a manner untouched, the enemy found such a check in the
pursuit, that 1600 of their forwardest men following too eagerly, fell
in with the Rhinegrave's advanced troops the next day, and were cut in
pieces without mercy.

This gave us some satisfaction for the loss, but it was but small
compared to the ruin of that day. We lost near 8000 men upon the spot,
and above 3000 prisoners, all our cannon and baggage, and 120 colours.
I thought I never made so indifferent a figure in my life, and so we
thought all; to come away, lose our infantry, our general, and our
honour, and never fight for it. Duke Bernhard was utterly disconsolate
for old Gustavus Horn, for he concluded him killed; he tore the hair
from his head like a madman, and telling the Rhinegrave the story of
the council of war, would reproach himself with not taking his advice,
often repeating it in his passion. "Tis I," said he, "have been the
death of the bravest general in Germany;" would call himself fool
and boy, and such names, for not listening to the reasons of an old
experienced soldier. But when he heard he was alive in the enemy's
hands he was the easier, and applied himself to the recruiting his
troops, and the like business of the war; and it was not long before
he paid the Imperialists with interest.

I returned to Frankfort-au-Main after this action, which happened the
17th of August 1634; but the progress of the Imperialists was so great
that there was no staying at Frankfort. The chancellor Oxenstiern
removed to Magdeburg, Duke Bernhard and the Landgrave marched into
Alsatia, and the Imperialists carried all before them for all the rest
of the campaign. They took Philipsburg by surprise; they took Augsburg
by famine, Spire and Treves by sieges, taking the Elector prisoner.
But this success did one piece of service to the Swedes, that it
brought the French into the war on their side, for the Elector of
Treves was their confederate. The French gave the conduct of the war
to Duke Bernhard. This, though the Duke of Saxony fell off, and fought
against them, turned the scale so much in their favour, that they
recovered their losses, and proved a terror to all Germany. The
farther accounts of the war I refer to the histories of those times,
which I have since read with a great deal of delight.

I confess when I saw the progress of the Imperial army, after the
battle of Nördlingen, and the Duke of Saxony turning his arms against
them, I thought their affairs declining; and, giving them over for
lost, I left Frankfort, and came down the Rhine to Cologne, and from
thence into Holland.

I came to the Hague the 8th of March 1635, having spent three years
and a half in Germany, and the greatest part of it in the Swedish
army.

I spent some time in Holland viewing the wonderful power of art,
which I observed in the fortifications of their towns, where the very
bastions stand on bottomless morasses, and yet are as firm as any in
the world. There I had the opportunity of seeing the Dutch army,
and their famous general, Prince Maurice. 'Tis true, the men behaved
themselves well enough in action, when they were put to it, but the
prince's way of beating his enemies without fighting, was so unlike
the gallantry of my royal instructor, that it had no manner of relish
with me. Our way in Germany was always to seek out the enemy and fight
him; and, give the Imperialists their due, they were seldom hard to
be found, but were as free of their flesh as we were. Whereas Prince
Maurice would lie in a camp till he starved half his men, if by lying
there he could but starve two-thirds of his enemies; so that indeed
the war in Holland had more of fatigues and hardships in it, and ours
had more of fighting and blows. Hasty marches, long and unwholesome
encampments, winter parties, counter-marching, dodging and
entrenching, were the exercises of his men, and oftentimes killed
him more men with hunger, cold and diseases, than he could do with
fighting. Not that it required less courage, but rather more, for
a soldier had at any time rather die in the field _a la coup de
mousquet_, than be starved with hunger, or frozen to death in the
trenches.

Nor do I think I lessen the reputation of that great general; for 'tis
most certain he ruined the Spaniard more by spinning the war thus out
in length, than he could possibly have done by a swift conquest.
For had he, Gustavus-like, with a torrent of victory dislodged the
Spaniard of all the twelve provinces in five years, whereas he was
forty years a-beating them out of seven, he had left them rich and
strong at home, and able to keep them in constant apprehensions of a
return of his power. Whereas, by the long continuance of the war, he
so broke the very heart of the Spanish monarchy, so absolutely and
irrecoverably impoverished them, that they have ever since languished
of the disease, till they are fallen from the most powerful, to be the
most despicable nation in the world.

The prodigious charge the King of Spain was at in losing the seven
provinces, broke the very spirit of the nation; and that so much,
that all the wealth of their Peruvian mountains have not been able to
retrieve it; King Philip having often declared that war, besides his
Armada for invading England, had cost him 370,000,000 of ducats, and
4,000,000 of the best soldiers in Europe; whereof, by an unreasonable
Spanish obstinacy, above 60,000 lost their lives before Ostend, a town
not worth a sixth part either of the blood or money it cost in a siege
of three years; and which at last he had never taken, but that Prince
Maurice thought it not worth the charge of defending it any longer.

However, I say, their way of fighting in Holland did not relish with
me at all. The prince lay a long time before a little fort called
Schenkenschanz, which the Spaniard took by surprise, and I thought he
might have taken it much sooner. Perhaps it might be my mistake, but
I fancied my hero, the King of Sweden, would have carried it sword in
hand, in half the time.

However it was, I did not like it; so in the latter end of the year I
came to the Hague, and took shipping for England, where I arrived, to
the great satisfaction of my father and all my friends.

My father was then in London, and carried me to kiss the king's hand.
His Majesty was pleased to receive me very well, and to say a great
many very obliging things to my father upon my account.

I spent my time very retired from court, for I was almost wholly in
the country; and it being so much different from my genius, which
hankered after a warmer sport than hunting among our Welsh mountains,
I could not but be peeping in all the foreign accounts from Germany,
to see who and who was together. There I could never hear of a battle,
and the Germans being beaten, but I began to wish myself there.
But when an account came of the progress of John Baner, the Swedish
general in Saxony, and of the constant victories he had there over the
Saxons, I could no longer contain myself, but told my father this life
was very disagreeable to me; that I lost my time here, and might to
much more advantage go into Germany, where I was sure I might make my
fortune upon my own terms; that, as young as I was, I might have been
a general officer by this time, if I had not laid down my commission;
that General Baner, or the Marshal Horn, had either of them so much
respect for me, that I was sure I might have anything of them; and
that if he pleased to give me leave, I would go for Germany again. My
father was very unwilling to let me go, but seeing me uneasy, told
me that, if I was resolved, he would oblige me to stay no longer in
England than the next spring, and I should have his consent.

The winter following began to look very unpleasant upon us in England,
and my father used often to sigh at it; and would tell me sometimes
he was afraid we should have no need to send Englishmen to fight in
Germany.

The cloud that seemed to threaten most was from Scotland. My father,
who had made himself master of the arguments on both sides, used to be
often saying he feared there was some about the king who exasperated
him too much against the Scots, and drove things too high. For my
part, I confess I did not much trouble my head with the cause; but all
my fear was they would not fall out, and we should have no fighting.
I have often reflected since, that I ought to have known better, that
had seen how the most flourishing provinces of Germany were reduced to
the most miserable condition that ever any country in the world was,
by the ravagings of soldiers, and the calamities of war.

How much soever I was to blame, yet so it was, I had a secret joy
at the news of the king's raising an army, and nothing could have
withheld me from appearing in it; but my eagerness was anticipated
by an express the king sent to my father, to know if his son was in
England; and my father having ordered me to carry the answer myself, I
waited upon his Majesty with the messenger. The king received me with
his usual kindness, and asked me if I was willing to serve him against
the Scots?

I answered, I was ready to serve him against any that his Majesty
thought fit to account his enemies, and should count it an honour to
receive his commands. Hereupon his Majesty offered me a commission. I
told him, I supposed there would not be much time for raising of men;
that if his Majesty pleased I would be at the rendezvous with as many
gentlemen as I could get together, to serve his Majesty as volunteers.

The truth is, I found all the regiments of horse the king designed to
raise were but two as regiments; the rest of the horse were such as
the nobility raised in their several countries, and commanded them
themselves; and, as I had commanded a regiment of horse abroad, it
looked a little odd to serve with a single troop at home; and the king
took the thing presently. "Indeed 'twill be a volunteer war," said the
king, "for the Northern gentry have sent me an account of above 4000
horse they have already." I bowed, and told his Majesty I was glad to
hear his subjects were forward to serve him. So taking his Majesty's
orders to be at York by the end of March, I returned to my father.

My father was very glad I had not taken a commission, for I know not
from what kind of emulation between the western and northern gentry.
The gentlemen of our side were not very forward in the service; their
loyalty to the king in the succeeding times made it appear it was not
for any disaffection to his Majesty's interest or person, or to the
cause; but this, however, made it difficult for me when I came home
to get any gentlemen of quality to serve with me, so that I presented
myself to his Majesty only as a volunteer, with eight gentlemen and
about thirty-six countrymen well mounted and armed.

And as it proved, these were enough, for this expedition ended in an
accommodation with the Scots; and they not advancing so much as to
their own borders, we never came to any action. But the armies lay
in the counties of Northumberland and Durham, ate up the country,
and spent the king a vast sum of money; and so this war ended, a
pacification was made, and both sides returned.

The truth is, I never saw such a despicable appearance of men in arms
to begin a war in my life; whether it was that I had seen so many
braver armies abroad that prejudiced me against them, or that it
really was so; for to me they seemed little better than a rabble met
together to devour, rather than fight for their king and country.
There was indeed a great appearance of gentlemen, and those of
extraordinary quality; but their garb, their equipages, and their
mien, did not look like war; their troops were filled with footmen
and servants, and wretchedly armed, God wot. I believe I might say,
without vanity, one regiment of Finland horse would have made sport
at beating them all. There were such crowds of parsons (for this was
a Church war in particular) that the camp and court was full of them;
and the king was so eternally besieged with clergymen of one sort or
another, that it gave offence to the chief of the nobility.

As was the appearance, so was the service. The army marched to the
borders, and the headquarter was at Berwick-upon-Tweed; but the Scots
never appeared, no, not so much as their scouts; whereupon the king
called a council of war, and there it was resolved to send the Earl of
Holland with a party of horse into Scotland, to learn some news of the
enemy. And truly the first news he brought us was, that finding their
army encamped about Coldingham, fifteen miles from Berwick, as soon as
he appeared, the Scots drew out a party to charge him, upon which
most of his men halted--I don't say run away, but 'twas next door to
it--for they could not be persuaded to fire their pistols, and wheel
of like soldiers, but retreated in such a disorderly and shameful
manner, that had the enemy but had either the courage or conduct to
have followed them, it must have certainly ended in the ruin of the
whole party.


[Footnote 1: Upon the breach of the match between the King of England
and the Infanta of Spain; and particularly upon the old quarrel of the
King of Bohemia and the Palatinate.]



THE SECOND PART


I confess, when I went into arms at the beginning of this war, I never
troubled myself to examine sides: I was glad to hear the drums beat
for soldiers, as if I had been a mere Swiss, that had not cared which
side went up or down, so I had my pay. I went as eagerly and blindly
about my business, as the meanest wretch that 'listed in the army; nor
had I the least compassionate thought for the miseries of my native
country, till after the fight at Edgehill. I had known as much, and
perhaps more than most in the army, what it was to have an enemy
ranging in the bowels of a kingdom; I had seen the most flourishing
provinces of Germany reduced to perfect deserts, and the voracious
Crabats, with inhuman barbarity, quenching the fires of the plundered
villages with the blood of the inhabitants. Whether this had hardened
me against the natural tenderness which I afterwards found return upon
me, or not, I cannot tell; but I reflected upon myself afterwards with
a great deal of trouble, for the unconcernedness of my temper at the
approaching ruin of my native country.

I was in the first army at York, as I have already noted, and, I must
confess, had the least diversion there that ever I found in an army in
my life. For when I was in Germany with the King of Sweden, we used
to see the king with the general officers every morning on horseback
viewing his men, his artillery, his horses, and always something going
forward. Here we saw nothing but courtiers and clergymen, bishops and
parsons, as busy as if the direction of the war had been in them. The
king was seldom seen among us, and never without some of them always
about him.

Those few of us that had seen the wars, and would have made a short
end of this for him, began to be very uneasy; and particularly a
certain nobleman took the freedom to tell the king that the clergy
would certainly ruin the expedition. The case was this: he would
have had the king have immediately marched into Scotland, and put the
matter to the trial of a battle; and he urged it every day. And the
king finding his reasons very good, would often be of his opinion; but
next morning he would be of another mind.

This gentleman was a man of conduct enough, and of unquestioned
courage, and afterwards lost his life for the king. He saw we had an
army of young stout fellows numerous enough; and though they had not
yet seen much service, he was for bringing them to action, that the
Scots might not have time to strengthen themselves, nor they have
time by idleness and sotting, the bane of soldiers, to make themselves
unfit for anything.

I was one morning in company with this gentleman; and as he was a warm
man, and eager in his discourse, "A pox of these priests," says he,
"'tis for them the king has raised this army, and put his friends to a
vast charge; and now we are come, they won't let us fight."

But I was afterwards convinced the clergy saw further into the matter
than we did. They saw the Scots had a better army than we had--bold
and ready, commanded by brave officers--and they foresaw that if we
fought we should be beaten, and if beaten, they were undone. And 'twas
very true, we had all been ruined if we had engaged.

It is true when we came to the pacification which followed, I confess
I was of the same mind the gentleman had been of; for we had better
have fought and been beaten than have made so dishonourable a treaty
without striking a stroke. This pacification seems to me to have laid
the scheme of all the blood and confusion which followed in the Civil
War. For whatever the king and his friends might pretend to do by
talking big, the Scots saw he was to be bullied into anything, and
that when it came to the push the courtiers never cared to bring it to
blows.

I have little or nothing to say as to action in this mock expedition.
The king was persuaded at last to march to Berwick; and, as I have
said already, a party of horse went out to learn news of the Scots,
and as soon as they saw them, ran away from them bravely.

This made the Scots so insolent that, whereas before they lay encamped
behind a river, and never showed themselves, in a sort of modest
deference to their king, which was the pretence of not being
aggressors or invaders, only arming in their own defence, now, having
been invaded by the English troops entering Scotland, they had what
they wanted. And to show it was not fear that retained them before,
but policy, now they came up in parties to our very gates, braving and
facing us every day.

I had, with more curiosity than discretion, put myself as a volunteer
at the head of one of our parties of horse, under my Lord Holland,
when they went out to discover the enemy; they went, they said, to see
what the Scots were a-doing.

We had not marched far, but our scouts brought word they had
discovered some horse, but could not come up to them, because a river
parted them. At the heels of these came another party of our men upon
the spur to us, and said the enemy was behind, which might be true for
aught we knew; but it was so far behind that nobody could see them,
and yet the country was plain and open for above a mile before us.
Hereupon we made a halt, and, indeed, I was afraid it would have been
an odd sort of a halt, for our men began to look one upon another,
as they do in like cases, when they are going to break; and when the
scouts came galloping in the men were in such disorder, that had but
one man broke away, I am satisfied they had all run for it.

I found my Lord Holland did not perceive it; but after the first
surprise was a little over I told my lord what I had observed, and
that unless some course was immediately taken they would all run at
the first sight of the enemy. I found he was much concerned at it, and
began to consult what course to take to prevent it. I confess 'tis a
hard question how to make men stand and face an enemy, when fear has
possessed their minds with an inclination to run away. But I'll give
that honour to the memory of that noble gentleman, who, though his
experience in matters of war was small, having never been in much
service, yet his courage made amends for it; for I daresay he would
not have turned his horse from an army of enemies, nor have saved his
life at the price of running away for it.

My lord soon saw, as well as I, the fright the men were in, after I
had given him a hint of it; and to encourage them, rode through their
ranks and spoke cheerfully to them, and used what arguments he thought
proper to settle their minds. I remembered a saying which I heard old
Marshal Gustavus Horn speak in Germany, "If you find your men falter,
or in doubt, never suffer them to halt, but keep them advancing; for
while they are going forward, it keeps up their courage."

As soon as I could get opportunity to speak to him, I gave him this
as my opinion. "That's very well," says my lord, "but I am studying,"
says he, "to post them so as that they can't run if they would; and if
they stand but once to face the enemy, I don't fear them afterwards."

While we were discoursing thus, word was brought that several parties
of the enemies were seen on the farther side of the river, upon which
my lord gave the word to march; and as we were marching on, my lord
calls out a lieutenant who had been an old soldier, with only five
troopers whom he had most confidence in, and having given him his
lesson, he sends him away. In a quarter of an hour one of the
five troopers comes back galloping and hallooing, and tells us his
lieutenant had, with his small party, beaten a party of twenty of the
enemy's horse over the river, and had secured the pass, and desired my
lord would march up to him immediately.

Tis a strange thing that men's spirits should be subjected to such
sudden changes, and capable of so much alteration from shadows of
things. They were for running before they saw the enemy, now they are
in haste to be led on, and but that in raw men we are obliged to bear
with anything, the disorder in both was intolerable.

The story was a premeditated sham, and not a word of truth in it,
invented to raise their spirits, and cheat them out of their cowardly
phlegmatic apprehensions, and my lord had his end in it; for they
were all on fire to fall on. And I am persuaded, had they been led
immediately into a battle begun to their hands, they would have laid
about them like furies; for there is nothing like victory to flush a
young soldier. Thus, while the humour was high, and the fermentation
lasted, away we marched, and, passing one of their great commons,
which they call moors, we came to the river, as he called it, where
our lieutenant was posted with his four men; 'twas a little brook
fordable with ease, and, leaving a guard at the pass, we advanced to
the top of a small ascent, from whence we had a fair view of the Scots
army, as they lay behind another river larger than the former.

Our men were posted well enough, behind a small enclosure, with a
narrow lane in their front. And my lord had caused his dragoons to be
placed in the front to line the hedges; and in this posture he stood
viewing the enemy at a distance. The Scots, who had some intelligence
of our coming, drew out three small parties, and sent them by
different ways to observe our number; and, forming a fourth party,
which I guessed to be about 600 horse, advanced to the top of the
plain, and drew up to face us, but never offered to attack us.

One of the small parties, making about 100 men, one third foot,
passes upon our flank in view, but out of reach; and, as they marched,
shouted at us, which our men, better pleased with that work than with
fighting, readily enough answered, and would fain have fired at them
for the pleasure of making a noise, for they were too far off to hit
them.

I observed that these parties had always some foot with them; and yet
if the horse galloped, or pushed on ever so forward, the foot were as
forward as they, which was an extraordinary advantage.

Gustavus Adolphus, that king of soldiers, was the first that I have
ever observed found the advantage of mixing small bodies of musketeers
among his horse; and, had he had such nimble strong fellows as these,
he would have prized them above all the rest of his men. These were
those they call Highlanders. They would run on foot with their arms
and all their accoutrements, and keep very good order too, and yet
keep pace with the horse, let them go at what rate they would. When I
saw the foot thus interlined among the horse, together with the way of
ordering their flying parties, it presently occurred to my mind that
here was some of our old Scots come home out of Germany that had the
ordering of matters, and if so, I knew we were not a match for them.

Thus we stood facing the enemy till our scouts brought us word the
whole Scots army was in motion, and in full march to attack us; and,
though it was not true, and the fear of our men doubled every object,
yet 'twas thought convenient to make our retreat. The whole matter was
that the scouts having informed them what they could of our strength,
the 600 were ordered to march towards us, and three regiments of foot
were drawn out to support the horse.

I know not whether they would have ventured to attack us, at least
before their foot had come up; but whether they would have put it to
the hazard or no, we were resolved not to hazard the trial, so we
drew down to the pass. And, as retreating looks something like running
away, especially when an enemy is at hand, our men had much ado to
make their retreat pass for a march, and not a flight; and, by their
often looking behind them, anybody might know what they would have
done if they had been pressed.

I confess, I was heartily ashamed when the Scots, coming up to the
place where we had been posted, stood and shouted at us. I would have
persuaded my lord to have charged them, and he would have done it with
all his heart, but he saw it was not practicable; so we stood at gaze
with them above two hours, by which time their foot were come up to
them, and yet they did not offer to attack us. I never was so ashamed
of myself in my life; we were all dispirited. The Scots gentlemen
would come out single, within shot of our post, which in a time of war
is always accounted a challenge to any single gentleman, to come out
and exchange a pistol with them, and nobody would stir; at last our
old lieutenant rides out to meet a Scotchman that came pickeering on
his quarter. This lieutenant was a brave and a strong fellow, had been
a soldier in the Low Countries; and though he was not of any quality,
only a mere soldier, had his preferment for his conduct. He gallops
bravely up to his adversary, and exchanging their pistols, the
lieutenant's horse happened to be killed. The Scotchman very
generously dismounts, and engages him with his sword, and fairly
masters him, and carries him away prisoner; and I think this horse was
all the blood was shed in that war.

The lieutenant's name thus conquered was English, and as he was a very
stout old soldier, the disgrace of it broke his heart. The Scotchman,
indeed, used him very generously; for he treated him in the camp very
courteously, gave him another horse, and set him at liberty, gratis.
But the man laid it so to heart, that he never would appear in the
army, but went home to his own country and died.

I had enough of party-making, and was quite sick with indignation at
the cowardice of the men; and my lord was in as great a fret as I, but
there was no remedy. We durst not go about to retreat, for we should
have been in such confusion that the enemy must have discovered it; so
my lord resolved to keep the post, if possible, and send to the king
for some foot. Then were our men ready to fight with one another who
should be the messenger; and at last when a lieutenant with twenty
dragoons was despatched, he told us afterwards he found himself an
hundred strong before he was gotten a mile from the place.

In short, as soon as ever the day declined, and the dusk of the
evening began to shelter the designs of the men, they dropped away
from us one by one; and at last in such numbers, that if we had stayed
till the morning, we had not had fifty men left; out of 1200 horse and
dragoons.

When I saw how it was, consulting with some of the officers, we all
went to my Lord Holland, and pressed him to retreat, before the enemy
should discern the flight of our men; so he drew us off, and we came
to the camp the next morning, in the shamefullest condition that ever
poor men could do. And this was the end of the worst expedition ever I
made in my life.

To fight and be beaten is a casualty common to a soldier, and I have
since had enough of it; but to run away at the sight of an enemy,
and neither strike or be stricken, this is the very shame of the
profession, and no man that has done it ought to show his face
again in the field, unless disadvantages of place or number make it
tolerable, neither of which was our case.

My Lord Holland made another march a few days after, in hopes to
retrieve this miscarriage; but I had enough of it, so I kept in my
quarters. And though his men did not desert him as before, yet upon
the appearance of the enemy they did not think fit to fight, and came
off with but little more honour than they did before.

There was no need to go out to seek the enemy after this, for they
came, as I have noted, and pitched in sight of us, and their parties
came up every day to the very out-works of Berwick, but nobody
cared to meddle with them. And in this posture things stood when the
pacification was agreed on by both parties, which, like a short truce,
only gave both sides breath to prepare for a new war more ridiculously
managed than the former. When the treaty was so near a conclusion
as that conversation was admitted on both sides, I went over to the
Scotch camp to satisfy my curiosity, as many of our English officers
did also.

I confess the soldiers made a very uncouth figure, especially the
Highlanders. The oddness and barbarity of their garb and arms seemed
to have something in it remarkable.

They were generally tall swinging fellows; their swords were
extravagantly, and, I think, insignificantly broad, and they carried
great wooden targets, large enough to cover the upper part of their
bodies. Their dress was as antique as the rest; a cap on their heads,
called by them a bonnet, long hanging sleeves behind, and their
doublet, breeches, and stockings of a stuff they called plaid, striped
across red and yellow, with short cloaks of the same. These fellows
looked, when drawn out, like a regiment of merry-andrews, ready for
Bartholomew Fair. They are in companies all of a name, and therefore
call one another only by their Christian names, as Jemmy, Jocky, that
is, John, and Sawny, that is, Alexander, and the like. And they scorn
to be commanded but by one of their own clan or family. They are all
gentlemen, and proud enough to be kings. The meanest fellow among them
is as tenacious of his honour as the best nobleman in the country,
and they will fight and cut one another's throats for every trifling
affront.

But to their own clans or lairds, they are the willingest and most
obedient fellows in nature. Give them their due, were their skill in
exercises and discipline proportioned to their courage, they would
make the bravest soldiers in the world. They are large bodies, and
prodigiously strong; and two qualities they have above other nations,
viz., hardy to endure hunger, cold, and hardships, and wonderfully
swift of foot. The latter is such an advantage in the field that I
know none like it; for if they conquer, no enemy can escape them, and
if they run, even the horse can hardly overtake them. These were some
of them, who, as I observed before, went out in parties with their
horse.

There were three or four thousand of these in the Scots army, armed
only with swords and targets; and in their belts some of them had a
pistol, but no muskets at that time among them.

But there were also a great many regiments of disciplined men, who,
by their carrying their arms, looked as if they understood their
business, and by their faces, that they durst see an enemy.

I had not been half-an-hour in their camp after the ceremony of giving
our names, and passing their out-guards and main-guard was over, but
I was saluted by several of my acquaintance; and in particular, by one
who led the Scotch volunteers at the taking the castle of Oppenheim,
of which I have given an account. They used me with all the respect
they thought due to me, on account of old affairs, gave me the word,
and a sergeant waited upon me whenever I pleased to go abroad.

I continued twelve or fourteen days among them, till the pacification
was concluded; and they were ordered to march home. They spoke very
respectfully of the king, but I found were exasperated to the last
degree at Archbishop Laud and the English bishops, for endeavouring to
impose the Common Prayer Book upon them; and they always talked with
the utmost contempt of our soldiers and army. I always waived the
discourse about the clergy, and the occasion of the war, but I could
not but be too sensible what they said of our men was true; and by
this I perceived they had an universal intelligence from among us,
both of what we were doing, and what sort of people we were that were
doing it; and they were mighty desirous of coming to blows with us. I
had an invitation from their general, but I declined it, lest I should
give offence. I found they accepted the pacification as a thing not
likely to hold, or that they did not design should hold; and that
they were resolved to keep their forces on foot, notwithstanding the
agreement. Their whole army was full of brave officers, men of as
much experience and conduct as any in the world; and all men who know
anything of the war, know good officers presently make a good army.

Things being thus huddled up, the English came back to York, where
the army separated, and the Scots went home to increase theirs; for I
easily foresaw that peace was the farthest thing from their thoughts.

The next year the flame broke out again. The king draws his forces
down into the north, as before, and expresses were sent to all the
gentlemen that had commands to be at the place by the 15th of July. As
I had accepted of no command in the army, so I had no inclination at
all to go, for I foresaw there would be nothing but disgrace attend
it. My father, observing such an alteration in my usual forwardness,
asked me one day what was the matter, that I who used to be so forward
to go into the army, and so eager to run abroad to fight, now showed
no inclination to appear when the service of the king and country
called me to it? I told him I had as much zeal as ever for the king's
service, and for the country too: but he knew a soldier could not
abide to be beaten; and being from thence a little more inquisitive, I
told him the observations I had made in the Scots army, and the people
I had conversed with there. "And, sir," says I, "assure yourself, if
the king offers to fight them, he will be beaten; and I don't love to
engage when my judgment tells me beforehand I shall be worsted."
And as I had foreseen, it came to pass; for the Scots resolving to
proceed, never stood upon the ceremony of aggression, as before, but
on the 20th of August they entered England with their army.

However, as my father desired, I went to the king's army, which was
then at York, but not gotten all together. The king himself was at
London, but upon this news takes post for the army, and advancing a
part of his forces, he posted the Lord Conway and Sir Jacob Astley,
with a brigade of foot and some horse, at Newburn, upon the river
Tyne, to keep the Scots from passing that river.

The Scots could have passed the Tyne without fighting; but to let us
see that they were able to force their passage, they fall upon his
body of men and notwithstanding all the advantages of the place, they
beat them from the post, took their baggage and two pieces of cannon,
with some prisoners. Sir Jacob Astley made what resistance he could,
but the Scots charged with so much fury, and being also overpowered,
he was soon put into confusion. Immediately the Scots made themselves
masters of Newcastle, and the next day of Durham, and laid those two
counties under intolerable contributions.

Now was the king absolutely ruined; for among his own people the
discontents before were so plain, that had the clergy had any
forecast, they would never have embroiled him with the Scots, till he
had fully brought matters to an understanding at home. But the
case was thus: the king, by the good husbandry of Bishop Juxon, his
treasurer, had a million of ready money in his treasury, and upon that
account, having no need of a Parliament, had not called one in twelve
years; and perhaps had never called another, if he had not by this
unhappy circumstance been reduced to a necessity of it; for now
this ready money was spent in two foolish expeditions, and his army
appeared in a condition not fit to engage the Scots. The detachment
under Sir Jacob Astley, which were of the flower of his men, had
been routed at Newburn, and the enemy had possession of two entire
counties.

All men blamed Laud for prompting the king to provoke the Scots, a
headstrong nation, and zealous for their own way of worship; and Laud
himself found too late the consequences of it, both to the whole cause
and to himself; for the Scots, whose native temper is not easily to
forgive an injury, pursued him by their party in England, and never
gave it over till they laid his head on the block.

The ruined country now clamoured in his Majesty's ears with daily
petitions, and the gentry of other neighbouring counties cry out for
peace and Parliament. The king, embarrassed with these difficulties,
and quite empty of money, calls a great council of the nobility at
York, and demands their advice, which any one could have told him
before would be to call a Parliament.

I cannot, without regret, look back upon the misfortune of the king,
who, as he was one of the best princes in his personal conduct that
ever reigned in England, had yet some of the greatest unhappinesses in
his conduct as a king, that ever prince had, and the whole course of
his life demonstrated it.

1. An impolitic honesty. His enemies called it obstinacy; but as I was
perfectly acquainted with his temper, I cannot but think it was his
judgment, when he thought he was in the right, to adhere to it as a
duty though against his interest.

2. Too much compliance when he was complying. No man but himself would
have denied what at some times he denied, and have granted what at
other times he granted; and this uncertainty of counsel proceeded from
two things.

1. The heat of the clergy, to whom he was exceedingly devoted, and for
whom, indeed, he ruined himself.

2. The wisdom of his nobility.

Thus when the counsel of his priests prevailed, all was fire and
fury; the Scots were rebels, and must be subdued, and the Parliament's
demands were to be rejected as exorbitant. But whenever the king's
judgment was led by the grave and steady advice of his nobility and
counsellors, he was always inclined by them to temperate his measures
between the two extremes. And had he gone on in such a temper, he had
never met with the misfortunes which afterward attended him, or had
so many thousands of his friends lost their lives and fortunes in his
service.

I am sure we that knew what it was to fight for him, and that loved
him better than any of the clergy could pretend to, have had many
a consultation how to bring over our master from so espousing their
interest, as to ruin himself for it; but 'twas in vain.

I took this interval when I sat still and only looked on, to make
these remarks, because I remember the best friends the king had were
at this time of that opinion, that 'twas an unaccountable piece
of indiscretion, to commence a quarrel with the Scots, a poor and
obstinate people, for a ceremony and book of Church discipline, at a
time when the king stood but upon indifferent terms with his people at
home.

The consequence was, it put arms into the hands of his subjects to
rebel against him; it embroiled him with his Parliament in England, to
whom he was fain to stoop in a fatal and unusual manner to get money,
all his own being spent, and so to buy off the Scots whom he could not
beat off.

I cannot but give one instance of the unaccountable politics of his
ministers. If they overruled this unhappy king to it, with design to
exhaust and impoverish him, they were the worst of traitors; if not,
the grossest of fools. They prompted the king to equip a fleet against
the Scots, and to put on board it 5000 land men. Had this been all,
the design had been good, that while the king had faced the army upon
the borders, these 5000, landing in the Firth of Edinburgh, might
have put that whole nation into disorder. But in order to this, they
advised the king to lay out his money in fitting out the biggest ships
he had, and the "Royal Sovereign," the biggest ship the world had ever
seen, which cost him no less than £100,000, was now built, and fitted
out for this voyage.

This was the most incongruous and ridiculous advice that could be
given, and made us all believe we were betrayed, though we knew not by
whom.

To fit out ships of 100 guns to invade Scotland, which had not one
man-of-war in the world, nor any open confederacy with any prince or
state that had any fleet, 'twas a most ridiculous thing. An hundred
sail of Newcastle colliers, to carry the men with their stores and
provisions, and ten frigates of 40 guns each, had been as good a fleet
as reason and the nature of the thing could have made tolerable.

Thus things were carried on, till the king, beggared by the
mismanagement of his counsels, and beaten by the Scots, was driven to
the necessity of calling a Parliament in England.

It is not my design to enter into the feuds and brangles of this
Parliament. I have noted, by observations of their mistakes, who
brought the king to this happy necessity of calling them.

His Majesty had tried Parliaments upon several occasions before, but
never found himself so much embroiled with them but he could send them
home, and there was an end of it; but as he could not avoid calling
these, so they took care to put him out of a condition to dismiss
them.

The Scots army was now quartered upon the English. The counties,
the gentry, and the assembly of lords at York, petitioned for a
Parliament.

The Scots presented their demands to the king, in which it was
observed that matters were concerted between them and a party in
England; and I confess when I saw that, I began to think the king in
an ill case; for as the Scots pretended grievances, we thought,
the king redressing those grievances, they could ask no more; and
therefore all men advised the king to grant their full demands. And
whereas the king had not money to supply the Scots in their march
home, I know there were several meetings of gentlemen with a design to
advance considerable sums of money to the king to set him free, and
in order to reinstate his Majesty, as before. Not that we ever advised
the king to rule without a Parliament, but we were very desirous of
putting him out of the necessity of calling them, at least just then.

But the eighth article of the Scots' demands expressly required, that
an English Parliament might be called to remove all obstructions of
commerce, and to settle peace, religion, and liberty; and in another
article they tell the king, the 24th of September being the time his
Majesty appointed for the meeting of the peers, will make it too long
ere the Parliament meet. And in another, that a Parliament was the
only way of settling peace, and bring them to his Majesty's obedience.

When we saw this in the army, 'twas time to look about. Everybody
perceived that the Scots army would call an English Parliament; and
whatever aversion the king had to it, we all saw he would be obliged
to comply with it; and now they all began to see their error, who
advised the king to this Scotch war.

While these things were transacting, the assembly of the peers meet at
York, and by their advice a treaty was begun with the Scots. I had the
honour to be sent with the first message which was in writing.

I brought it, attended by a trumpet and a guard of 500 horse, to
the Scots quarters. I was stopped at Darlington, and my errand being
known, General Leslie sent a Scots major and fifty horses to receive
me, but would let neither my trumpet or guard set foot within
their quarters. In this manner I was conducted to audience in the
chapter-house at Durham, where a committee of Scots lords who attended
the army received me very courteously, and gave me their answer in
writing also.

'Twas in this answer that they showed, at least to me, their design
of embroiling the king with his English subjects; they discoursed very
freely with me, and did not order me to withdraw when they debated
their private opinions. They drew up several answers but did not like
them; at last they gave me one which I did not receive, I thought it
was too insolent to be borne with. As near as I can remember it was
thus: The commissioners of Scotland attending the service in the army,
do refuse any treaty in the city of York.

One of the commissioners who treated me with more distinction than the
rest, and discoursed freely with me, gave me an opportunity to speak
more freely of this than I expected.

I told them if they would return to his Majesty an answer fit for me
to carry, or if they would say they would not treat at all, I would
deliver such a message. But I entreated them to consider the answer
was to their sovereign, and to whom they made a great profession of
duty and respect, and at least they ought to give their reasons why
they declined a treaty at York, and to name some other place, or
humbly to desire his Majesty to name some other place; but to send
word they would not treat at York, I could deliver no such message,
for when put into English it would signify they would not treat at
all.

I used a great many reasons and arguments with them on this head,
and at last with some difficulty obtained of them to give the reason,
which was the Earl of Strafford's having the chief command at York,
whom they declared their mortal enemy, he having declared them rebels
in Ireland.

With this answer I returned. I could make no observations in the short
time I was with them, for as I stayed but one night, so I was guarded
as a close prisoner all the while. I saw several of their officers
whom I knew, but they durst not speak to me, and if they would have
ventured, my guard would not have permitted them.

In this manner I was conducted out of their quarters to my own party
again, and having delivered my message to the king and told his
Majesty the circumstances, I saw the king receive the account of the
haughty behaviour of the Scots with some regret; however, it was his
Majesty's time now to bear, and therefore the Scots were complied
with, and the treaty appointed at Ripon; where, after much debate,
several preliminary articles were agreed on, as a cessation of arms,
quarters, and bounds to the armies, subsistence to the Scots army, and
the residue of the demands was referred to a treaty at London, &c.

We were all amazed at the treaty, and I cannot but remember we used to
wish much rather we had been suffered to fight; for though we had been
worsted at first, the power and strength of the king's interest, which
was not yet tried, must, in fine, have been too strong for the Scots,
whereas now we saw the king was for complying with anything, and all
his friends would be ruined.

I confess I had nothing to fear, and so was not much concerned, but
our predictions soon came to pass, for no sooner was this Parliament
called but abundance of those who had embroiled their king with his
people of both kingdoms, like the disciples when their Master was
betrayed to the Jews, forsook him and fled; and now Parliament tyranny
began to succeed Church tyranny, and we soldiers were glad to see it
at first. The bishops trembled, the judges went to gaol, the officers
of the customs were laid hold on; and the Parliament began to lay
their fingers on the great ones, particularly Archbishop Laud and the
Earl of Strafford. We had no great concern for the first, but the
last was a man of so much conduct and gallantry, and so beloved by the
soldiers and principal gentry of England, that everybody was touched
with his misfortune.

The Parliament now grew mad in their turn, and as the prosperity of
any party is the time to show their discretion, the Parliament showed
they knew as little where to stop as other people. The king was not in
a condition to deny anything, and nothing could be demanded but they
pushed it. They attainted the Earl of Strafford, and thereby made
the king cut off his right hand to save his left, and yet not save
it neither. They obtained another bill to empower them to sit during
their own pleasure, and after them, triennial Parliaments to meet,
whether the king call them or no; and granting this completed his
Majesty's ruin.

Had the House only regulated the abuses of the court, punished evil
counsellors, and restored Parliaments to their original and just
powers, all had been well, and the king, though he had been more than
mortified, had yet reaped the benefit of future peace; for now
the Scots were sent home, after having eaten up two countries, and
received a prodigious sum of money to boot. And the king, though too
late, goes in person to Edinburgh, and grants them all they could
desire, and more than they asked; but in England, the desires of ours
were unbounded, and drove at all extremes.

They drew out the bishops from sitting in the House, made a
protestation equivalent to the Scotch Covenant, and this done, print
their remonstrance. This so provoked the king, that he resolves upon
seizing some of the members, and in an ill hour enters the House in
person to take them. Thus one imprudent thing on one hand produced
another of the other hand, till the king was obliged to leave them to
themselves, for fear of being mobbed into something or other unworthy
of himself.

These proceedings began to alarm the gentry and nobility of England;
for, however willing we were to have evil counsellors removed, and
the government return to a settled and legal course, according to the
happy constitution of this nation, and might have been forward enough
to have owned the king had been misled, and imposed upon to do things
which he had rather had not been done, yet it did not follow, that
all the powers and prerogatives of the crown should devolve upon the
Parliament, and the king in a manner be deposed, or else sacrificed to
the fury of the rabble.

The heats of the House running them thus to all extremes, and at last
to take from the king the power of the militia, which indeed was
all that was left to make him anything of a king, put the king upon
opposing force with force; and thus the flame of civil war began.

However backward I was in engaging in the second year's expedition
against the Scots, I was as forward now, for I waited on the king
at York, where a gallant company of gentlemen as ever were seen in
England, engaged themselves to enter into his service; and here some
of us formed ourselves into troops for the guard of his person.

The king having been waited upon by the gentry of Yorkshire, and
having told them his resolution of erecting his royal standard, and
received from them hearty assurances of support, dismisses them, and
marches to Hull, where lay the train of artillery, and all the
arms and ammunition belonging to the northern army which had been
disbanded. But here the Parliament had been beforehand with his
Majesty, so that when he came to Hull, he found the gates shut, and
Sir John Hotham, the governor, upon the walls, though with a great
deal of seeming humility and protestations of loyalty to his person,
yet with a positive denial to admit any of the king's attendants into
the town. If his Majesty pleased to enter the town in person with any
reasonable number of his household, he would submit, but would not
be prevailed on to receive the king as he would be received, with his
forces, though those forces were then but very few.

The king was exceedingly provoked at this repulse, and indeed it was
a great surprise to us all, for certainly never prince began a war
against the whole strength of his kingdom under the circumstances that
he was in. He had not a garrison, or a company of soldiers in his
pay, not a stand of arms, or a barrel of powder, a musket, cannon
or mortar, not a ship of all the fleet, or money in his treasury to
procure them; whereas the Parliament had all his navy, and ordnance,
stores, magazines, arms, ammunition, and revenue in their keeping.
And this I take to be another defect of the king's counsel, and a sad
instance of the distraction of his affairs, that when he saw how all
things were going to wreck, as it was impossible but he should see it,
and 'tis plain he did see it, that he should not long enough before it
came to extremities secure the navy, magazines, and stores of war, in
the hands of his trusty servants, that would have been sure to have
preserved them for his use, at a time when he wanted them.

It cannot be supposed but the gentry of England, who generally
preserved their loyalty for their royal master, and at last heartily
showed it, were exceedingly discouraged at first when they saw the
Parliament had all the means of making war in their own hands, and the
king was naked and destitute either of arms or ammunition, or money
to procure them. Not but that the king, by extraordinary application,
recovered the disorder the want of these things had thrown him into,
and supplied himself with all things needful.

But my observation was this, had his Majesty had the magazines, navy,
and forts in his own hand, the gentry, who wanted but the prospect of
something to encourage them, had come in at first, and the Parliament,
being unprovided, would have been presently reduced to reason. But
this was it that balked the gentry of Yorkshire, who went home again,
giving the king good promises, but never appeared for him, till
by raising a good army in Shropshire and Wales, he marched towards
London, and they saw there was a prospect of their being supported.

In this condition the king erected his standard at Nottingham, 22nd
August 1642, and I confess, I had very melancholy apprehensions of
the king's affairs, for the appearance to the royal standard was
but small. The affront the king had met with at Hull, had balked and
dispirited the northern gentry, and the king's affairs looked with
a very dismal aspect. We had expresses from London of the prodigious
success of the Parliament levies, how their men came in faster than
they could entertain them, and that arms were delivered out to whole
companies listed together, and the like. And all this while the
king had not got together a thousand foot, and had no arms for them
neither. When the king saw this, he immediately despatches five
several messengers, whereof one went to the Marquis of Worcester into
Wales; one went to the queen, then at Windsor; one to the Duke
of Newcastle, then Marquis of Newcastle, into the north; one into
Scotland; and one into France, where the queen soon after arrived to
raise money, and buy arms, and to get what assistance she could among
her own friends. Nor was her Majesty idle, for she sent over several
ships laden with arms and ammunition, with a fine train of artillery,
and a great many very good officers; and though one of the first fell
into the hands of the Parliament, with three hundred barrels of powder
and some arms, and one hundred and fifty gentlemen, yet most of the
gentlemen found means, one way or other, to get to us, and most of
the ships the queen freighted arrived; and at last her Majesty came
herself, and brought an extraordinary supply both of men, money,
arms, &c., with which she joined the king's forces under the Earl of
Newcastle in the north.

Finding his Majesty thus bestirring himself to muster his friends
together, I asked him if he thought it might not be for his Majesty's
service to let me go among my friends, and his loyal subjects about
Shrewsbury? "Yes," says the king, smiling, "I intend you shall, and
I design to go with you myself." I did not understand what the king
meant then, and did not think it good manners to inquire, but the next
day I found all things disposed for a march, and the king on horseback
by eight of the clock; when calling me to him, he told me I should
go before, and let my father and all my friends know he would be at
Shrewsbury the Saturday following. I left my equipages, and taking
post with only one servant, was at my father's the next morning by
break of day. My father was not surprised at the news of the king's
coming at all, for, it seems, he, together with the royal gentry of
those parts, had sent particularly to give the king an invitation to
move that way, which I was not made privy to, with an account what
encouragement they had there in the endeavours made for his interest.
In short, the whole country was entirely for the king, and such was
the universal joy the people showed when the news of his Majesty's
coming down was positively known, that all manner of business was laid
aside, and the whole body of the people seemed to be resolved upon the
war.

As this gave a new face to the king's affairs, so I must own it filled
me with joy; for I was astonished before, when I considered what
the king and his friends were like to be exposed to. The news of the
proceedings of the Parliament, and their powerful preparations, were
now no more terrible; the king came at the time appointed, and
having lain at my father's house one night, entered Shrewsbury in the
morning. The acclamations of the people, the concourse of the nobility
and gentry about his person, and the crowds which now came every day
into the standard, were incredible.

The loyalty of the English gentry was not only worth notice, but the
power of the gentry is extraordinary visible in this matter. The
king, in about six weeks' time, which was the most of his stay at
Shrewsbury, was supplied with money, arms, ammunition, and a train of
artillery, and listed a body of an army upwards of 20,000 men.

His Majesty seeing the general alacrity of his people, immediately
issued out commissions, and formed regiments of horse and foot;
and having some experienced officers about him, together with about
sixteen who came from France, with a ship loaded with arms and some
field-pieces which came very seasonably into the Severn, the men were
exercised, regularly disciplined, and quartered, and now we began to
look like soldiers. My father had raised a regiment of horse at his
own charge, and completed them, and the king gave out arms to them
from the supplies which I mentioned came from abroad. Another party
of horse, all brave stout fellows, and well mounted, came in from
Lancashire, and the Earl of Derby at the head of them. The Welshmen
came in by droves; and so great was the concourse of people, that the
king began to think of marching, and gave the command, as well as the
trust of regulating the army, to the brave Earl of Lindsey, as general
of the foot. The Parliament general being the Earl of Essex, two
braver men, or two better officers, were not in the kingdom; they had
both been old soldiers, and had served together as volunteers in the
Low Country wars, under Prince Maurice. They had been comrades and
companions abroad, and now came to face one another as enemies in the
field.

Such was the expedition used by the king and his friends, in the
levies of this first army, that notwithstanding the wonderful
expedition the Parliament made, the king was in the field before them;
and now the gentry in other parts of the nation bestirred themselves,
and seized upon, and garrisoned several considerable places, for the
king. In the north, the Earl of Newcastle not only garrisoned the most
considerable places, but even the general possession of the north was
for the king, excepting Hull, and some few places, which the old Lord
Fairfax had taken up for the Parliament. On the other hand, entire
Cornwall and most of the western counties were the king's. The
Parliament had their chief interest in the south and eastern part
of England, as Kent, Surrey, and, Sussex, Essex, Suffolk, Norfolk,
Cambridge, Bedford, Huntingdon, Hertford, Buckinghamshire, and the
other midland counties. These were called, or some of them at least,
the associated counties, and felt little of the war, other than
the charges; but the main support of the Parliament was the city of
London.

The king made the seat of his court at Oxford, which he caused to be
regularly fortified. The Lord Say had been here, and had possession of
the city for the enemy, and was debating about fortifying it, but
came to no resolution, which was a very great over-sight in them; the
situation of the place, and the importance of it, on many accounts,
to the city of London, considered; and they would have retrieved this
error afterwards, but then 'twas too late; for the king made it the
headquarter, and received great supplies and assistance from the
wealth of the colleges, and the plenty of the neighbouring country.
Abingdon, Wallingford, Basing, and Reading, were all garrisoned and
fortified as outworks to defend this as the centre. And thus all
England became the theatre of blood, and war was spread into every
corner of the country, though as yet there was no stroke struck. I had
no command in this army. My father led his own regiment, and, old as
he was, would not leave his royal master, and my elder brother stayed
at home to support the family. As for me, I rode a volunteer in the
royal troop of guards, which may very well deserve the title of a
royal troop, for it was composed of young gentlemen, sons of the
nobility, and some of the prime gentry of the nation, and I think not
a person of so mean a birth or fortune as myself. We reckoned in this
troop two and thirty lords, or who came afterwards to be such,
and eight and thirty of younger sons of the nobility, five French
noblemen, and all the rest gentlemen of very good families and
estates.

And that I may give the due to their personal valour, many of this
troop lived afterwards to have regiments and troops under their
command in the service of the king, many of them lost their lives for
him, and most of them their estates. Nor did they behave unworthy of
themselves in their first showing their faces to the enemy, as shall
be mentioned in its place.

While the king remained at Shrewsbury, his loyal friends bestirred
themselves in several parts of the kingdom. Goring had secured
Portsmouth, but being young in matters of war, and not in time
relieved, though the Marquis of Hertford was marching to relieve him,
yet he was obliged to quit the place, and shipped himself for Holland,
from whence he returned with relief for the king, and afterwards
did very good service upon all occasions, and so effectually cleared
himself of the scandal the hasty surrender of Portsmouth had brought
upon his courage.

The chief power of the king's forces lay in three places, in Cornwall,
in Yorkshire, and at Shrewsbury. In Cornwall, Sir Ralph Hopton,
afterwards Lord Hopton, Sir Bevil Grenvile, and Sir Nicholas Slanning
secured all the country, and afterwards spread themselves over
Devonshire and Somersetshire, took Exeter from the Parliament,
fortified Bridgewater and Barnstaple, and beat Sir William Waller at
the battle of Roundway Down, as I shall touch at more particularly
when I come to recite the part of my own travels that way.

In the north, The Marquis of Newcastle secured all the country,
garrisoned York, Scarborough, Carlisle, Newcastle, Pomfret, Leeds, and
all the considerable places, and took the field with a very good army,
though afterwards he proved more unsuccessful than the rest, having
the whole power of a kingdom at his back, the Scots coming in with
an army to the assistance of the Parliament, which, indeed, was the
general turn of the scale of the war; for had it not been for this
Scots army, the king had most certainly reduced the Parliament, at
least to good terms of peace, in two years' time.

The king was the third article. His force at Shrewsbury I have noted
already. The alacrity of the gentry filled him with hopes, and all his
army with vigour, and the 8th of October 1642, his Majesty gave orders
to march. The Earl of Essex had spent above a month after his leaving
London (for he went thence the 9th of September) in modelling and
drawing together his forces; his rendezvous was at St Albans, from
whence he marched to Northampton, Coventry, and Warwick, and leaving
garrisons in them, he comes on to Worcester. Being thus advanced, he
possesses Oxford, as I noted before, Banbury, Bristol, Gloucester, and
Worcester, out of all which places, except Gloucester, we drove him
back to London in a very little while.

Sir John Byron had raised a very good party of 500 horse, most
gentlemen, for the king, and had possessed Oxford; but on the approach
of the Lord Say quitted it, being now but an open town, and retreated
to Worcester, from whence, on the approach of Essex's army, he
retreated to the king. And now all things grew ripe for action, both
parties having secured their posts, and settled their schemes of the
war, taken their posts and places as their measures and opportunities
directed. The field was next in their eye, and the soldiers began to
inquire when they should fight, for as yet there had been little or no
blood drawn; and 'twas not long before they had enough of it; for, I
believe, I may challenge all the historians in Europe to tell me of
any war in the world where, in the space of four years, there were so
many pitched battles, sieges, fights, and skirmishes, as in this war.
We never encamped or entrenched, never fortified the avenues to our
posts, or lay fenced with rivers and defiles; here was no leaguers in
the field, as at the story of Nuremberg, neither had our soldiers any
tents, or what they call heavy baggage. 'Twas the general maxim of
this war, "Where is the enemy? let us go and fight them," or, on the
other hand, if the enemy was coming, "What was to be done?" "Why, what
should be done? Draw out into the fields and fight them." I cannot say
'twas the prudence of the parties, and had the king fought less he had
gained more. And I shall remark several times when the eagerness of
fighting was the worst counsel, and proved our loss. This benefit,
however, happened in general to the country, that it made a quick,
though a bloody, end of the war, which otherwise had lasted till it
might have ruined the whole nation.

On the 10th of October the king's army was in full march, his Majesty,
generalissimo, the Earl of Lindsey, general of the foot, Prince
Rupert, general of the horse; and the first action in the field was by
Prince Rupert and Sir John Byron. Sir John had brought his body of
500 horse, as I noted already, from Oxford to Worcester; the Lord
Say, with a strong party, being in the neighbourhood of Oxford, and
expected in the town, Colonel Sandys, a hot man, and who had more
courage than judgment, advances with about 1500 horse and dragoons,
with design to beat Sir John Byron out of Worcester, and take post
there for the Parliament.

The king had notice that the Earl of Essex designed for Worcester, and
Prince Rupert was ordered to advance with a body of horse and dragoons
to face the enemy, and bring off Sir John Byron. This his Majesty did
to amuse the Earl of Essex, that he might expect him that way; whereas
the king's design was to get between the Earl of Essex's army and the
city of London; and his Majesty's end was doubly answered, for he
not only drew Essex on to Worcester, where he spent more time than he
needed, but he beat the party into the bargain.

I went volunteer in this party, and rode in my father's regiment; for
though we really expected not to see the enemy, yet I was tired with
lying still. We came to Worcester just as notice was brought to
Sir John Byron, that a party of the enemy was on their march for
Worcester, upon which the prince immediately consulting what was to be
done, resolves to march the next morning and fight them.

The enemy, who lay at Pershore, about eight miles from Worcester, and,
as I believe, had no notice of our march, came on very confidently
in the morning, and found us fairly drawn up to receive them. I must
confess this was the bluntest, downright way of making war that ever
was seen. The enemy, who, in all the little knowledge I had of war,
ought to have discovered our numbers, and guessed by our posture what
our design was, might easily have informed themselves that we intended
to attack them, and so might have secured the advantage of a bridge in
their front; but without any regard to these methods of policy, they
came on at all hazards. Upon this notice, my father proposed to the
prince to halt for them, and suffer ourselves to be attacked, since
we found them willing to give us the advantage. The prince approved of
the advice, so we halted within view of a bridge, leaving space enough
on our front for about half the number of their forces to pass and
draw up; and at the bridge was posted about fifty dragoons, with
orders to retire as soon as the enemy advanced, as if they had been
afraid. On the right of the road was a ditch, and a very high bank
behind, where we had placed 300 dragoons, with orders to lie flat on
their faces till the enemy had passed the bridge, and to let fly among
them as soon as our trumpets sounded a charge. Nobody but Colonel
Sandys would have been caught in such a snare, for he might easily
have seen that when he was over the bridge there was not room enough
for him to fight in. But the Lord of hosts was so much in their
mouths, for that was the word for that day, that they took little heed
how to conduct the host of the Lord to their own advantage.

As we expected, they appeared, beat our dragoons from the bridge, and
passed it. We stood firm in one line with a reserve, and expected a
charge, but Colonel Sandys, showing a great deal more judgment than
we thought he was master of, extends himself to the left, finding
the ground too strait, and began to form his men with a great deal of
readiness and skill, for by this time he saw our number was greater
than he expected. The prince perceiving it, and foreseeing that the
stratagem of the dragoons would be frustrated by this, immediately
charges with the horse, and the dragoons at the same time standing
upon their feet, poured in their shot upon those that were passing
the bridge. This surprise put them into such disorder, that we had but
little work with them. For though Colonel Sandys with the troops next
him sustained the shock very well, and behaved themselves gallantly
enough, yet the confusion beginning in their rear, those that had not
yet passed the bridge were kept back by the fire of the dragoons,
and the rest were easily cut in pieces. Colonel Sandys was mortally
wounded and taken prisoner, and the crowd was so great to get back,
that many pushed into the water, and were rather smothered than
drowned. Some of them who never came into the fight, were so frighted,
that they never looked behind them till they came to Pershore, and,
as we were afterwards informed, the lifeguards of the general who had
quartered in the town, left it in disorder enough, expecting us at the
heels of their men.

If our business had been to keep the Parliament army from coming to
Worcester, we had a very good opportunity to have secured the bridge
at Pershore; but our design lay another way, as I have said, and the
king was for drawing Essex on to the Severn, in hopes to get behind
him, which fell out accordingly.

Essex, spurred by this affront in the infancy of their affairs,
advances the next day, and came to Pershore time enough to be at the
funeral of some of his men; and from thence he advances to Worcester.

We marched back to Worcester extremely pleased with the good success
of our first attack, and our men were so flushed with this little
victory that it put vigour into the whole army. The enemy lost about
3000 men, and we carried away near 150 prisoners, with 500 horses,
some standards and arms, and among the prisoners their colonel; but he
died a little after of his wounds.

Upon the approach of the enemy, Worcester was quitted, and the forces
marched back to join the king's army, which lay then at Bridgnorth,
Ludlow, and thereabout. As the king expected, it fell out; Essex found
so much work at Worcester to settle Parliament quarters, and secure
Bristol, Gloucester, and Hereford, that it gave the king a full day's
march of him. So the king, having the start of him, moves towards
London; and Essex, nettled to be both beaten in fight and outdone in
conduct, decamps, and follows the king.

The Parliament, and the Londoners too, were in a strange consternation
at this mistake of their general; and had the king, whose great
misfortune was always to follow precipitant advices,--had the king,
I say, pushed on his first design, which he had formed with very good
reason, and for which he had been dodging with Essex eight or ten
days, viz., of marching directly to London, where he had a very
great interest, and where his friends were not yet oppressed and
impoverished, as they were afterwards, he had turned the scale of his
affairs. And every man expected it; for the members began to shift
for themselves, expresses were sent on the heels of one another to the
Earl of Essex to hasten after the king, and, if possible, to bring him
to a battle. Some of these letters fell into our hands, and we might
easily discover that the Parliament were in the last confusion at
the thoughts of our coming to London. Besides this, the city was in a
worse fright than the House, and the great moving men began to go
out of town. In short, they expected us, and we expected to come, but
Providence for our ruin had otherwise determined it.

Essex, upon news of the king's march, and upon receipt of the
Parliament's letters, makes long marches after us, and on the 23rd of
October reaches the village of Kineton, in Warwickshire. The king was
almost as far as Banbury, and there calls a council of war. Some of
the old officers that foresaw the advantage the king had, the concern
the city was in, and the vast addition, both to the reputation of his
forces and the increase of his interest, it would be if the king could
gain that point, urged the king to march on to London. Prince
Rupert and the fresh colonels pressed for fighting, told the king it
dispirited their men to march with the enemy at their heels; that the
Parliament army was inferior to him by 6000 men, and fatigued with
hasty marching; that as their orders were to fight, he had nothing
to do but to post himself to advantage, and receive them to their
destruction; that the action near Worcester had let them know how easy
it was to deal with a rash enemy; and that 'twas a dishonour for him,
whose forces were so much superior, to be pursued by his subjects in
rebellion. These and the like arguments prevailed with the king to
alter his wiser measures and resolve to fight. Nor was this all; when
a resolution of fighting was taken, that part of the advice which they
who were for fighting gave, as a reason for their opinion, was forgot,
and instead of halting and posting ourselves to advantage till the
enemy came up, we were ordered to march back and meet them.

Nay, so eager was the prince for fighting, that when, from the top of
Edgehill, the enemy's army was descried in the bottom between them
and the village of Kineton, and that the enemy had bid us defiance,
by discharging three cannons, we accepted the challenge, and answering
with two shots from our army, we must needs forsake the advantages
of the hills, which they must have mounted under the command of our
cannon, and march down to them into the plain. I confess, I thought
here was a great deal more gallantry than discretion; for it was
plainly taking an advantage out of our own hands, and putting it into
the hands of the enemy. An enemy that must fight, may always be fought
with to advantage. My old hero, the glorious Gustavus Adolphus, was as
forward to fight as any man of true valour mixed with any policy need
to be, or ought to be; but he used to say, "An enemy reduced to a
necessity of fighting is half beaten."

Tis true, we were all but young in the war; the soldiers hot and
forward, and eagerly desired to come to hands with the enemy. But
I take the more notice of it here, because the king in this acted
against his own measures; for it was the king himself had laid the
design of getting the start of Essex, and marching to London. His
friends had invited him thither, and expected him, and suffered deeply
for the omission; and yet he gave way to these hasty counsels, and
suffered his judgment to be overruled by majority of voices; an error,
I say, the King of Sweden was never guilty of. For if all the officers
at a council of war were of a different opinion, yet unless their
reasons mastered his judgment, their votes never altered his measures.
But this was the error of our good, but unfortunate master, three
times in this war, and particularly in two of the greatest battles of
the time, viz., this of Edgehill, and that of Naseby.

The resolution for fighting being published in the army, gave an
universal joy to the soldiers, who expressed an extraordinary ardour
for fighting. I remember my father talking with me about it, asked
me what I thought of the approaching battle. I told him I thought the
king had done very well; for at that time I did not consult the extent
of the design, and had a mighty mind, like other rash people, to see
it brought to a day, which made me answer my father as I did. "But,"
said I, "sir, I doubt there will be but indifferent doings on both
sides, between two armies both made up of fresh men, that have never
seen any service." My father minded little what I spoke of that; but
when I seemed pleased that the king had resolved to fight, he looked
angrily at me, and told me he was sorry I could see no farther into
things. "I tell you," says he hastily, "if the king should kill and
take prisoners this whole army, general and all, the Parliament will
have the victory; for we have lost more by slipping this opportunity
of getting into London, than we shall ever get by ten battles." I
saw enough of this afterwards to convince me of the weight of what
my father said, and so did the king too; but it was then too late.
Advantages slipped in war are never recovered.

We were now in a full march to fight the Earl of Essex. It was on
Sunday morning the 24th of October 1642, fair weather overhead, but
the ground very heavy and dirty. As soon as we came to the top of
Edgehill, we discovered their whole army. They were not drawn up,
having had two miles to march that morning, but they were very busy
forming their lines, and posting the regiments as they came up. Some
of their horse were exceedingly fatigued, having marched forty-eight
hours together; and had they been suffered to follow us three or four
days' march farther, several of their regiments of horse would
have been quite ruined, and their foot would have been rendered
unserviceable for the present. But we had no patience.

As soon as our whole army was come to the top of the hill, we
were drawn up in order of battle. The king's army made a very fine
appearance; and indeed they were a body of gallant men as ever
appeared in the field, and as well furnished at all points; the
horse exceedingly well accoutred, being most of them gentlemen and
volunteers, some whole regiments serving without pay; their horses
very good and fit for service as could be desired. The whole army were
not above 18,000 men, and the enemy not 1000 over or under, though we
had been told they were not above 12,000; but they had been reinforced
with 4000 men from Northampton. The king was with the general, the
Earl of Lindsey, in the main battle; Prince Rupert commanded the right
wing, and the Marquis of Hertford, the Lord Willoughby, and several
other very good officers the left.

The signal of battle being given with two cannon shots, we marched
in order of battalia down the hill, being drawn up in two lines with
bodies of reserve; the enemy advanced to meet us much in the same
form, with this difference only, that they had placed their cannon on
their right, and the king had placed ours in the centre, before, or
rather between two great brigades of foot. Their cannon began with us
first, and did some mischief among the dragoons of our left wing; but
our officers, perceiving the shot took the men and missed the horses,
ordered all to alight, and every man leading his horse, to advance in
the same order; and this saved our men, for most of the enemy's shot
flew over their heads. Our cannon made a terrible execution upon their
foot for a quarter of an hour, and put them into great confusion,
till the general obliged them to halt, and changed the posture of his
front, marching round a small rising ground by which he avoided the
fury of our artillery.

By this time the wings were engaged, the king having given the signal
of battle, and ordered the right wing to fall on. Prince Rupert, who,
as is said, commanded that wing, fell on with such fury, and pushed
the left wing of the Parliament army so effectually, that in a moment
he filled all with terror and confusion. Commissary-General Ramsey, a
Scotsman, a Low Country Soldier, and an experienced officer, commanded
their left wing, and though he did all that an expert soldier, and
a brave commander could do, yet 'twas to no purpose; his lines were
immediately broken, and all overwhelmed in a trice. Two regiments of
foot, whether as part of the left wing, or on the left of the main
body, I know not, were disordered by their own horse, and rather
trampled to death by the horses, than beaten by our men; but they were
so entirely broken and disordered, that I do not remember that ever
they made one volley upon our men; for their own horse running away,
and falling foul on these foot, were so vigorously followed by our
men, that the foot never had a moment to rally or look behind them.
The point of the left wing of horse were not so soon broken as the
rest, and three regiments of them stood firm for some time. The
dexterous officers of the other regiments taking the opportunity,
rallied a great many of their scattered men behind them, and pieced
in some troops with those regiments; but after two or three charges,
which a brigade of our second line, following the prince, made upon
them, they also were broken with the rest.

I remember that at the great battle of Leipsic, the right wing of the
Imperialists having fallen in upon the Saxons with like fury to this,
bore down all before them, and beat the Saxons quite out of the field;
upon which the soldiers cried, "Victoria, let us follow." "No, no,"
said the old General Tilly, "let them go, but let us beat the Swedes
too, and then all's our own." Had Prince Rupert taken this method, and
instead of following the fugitives, who were dispersed so effectually
that two regiments would have secured them from rallying--I say, had
he fallen in upon the foot, or wheeled to the left, and fallen in
upon the rear of the enemy's right wing of horse, or returned to
the assistance of the left wing of our horse, we had gained the most
absolute and complete victory that could be; nor had 1000 men of
the enemy's army got off. But this prince, who was full of fire, and
pleased to see the rout of an enemy, pursued them quite to the town of
Kineton, where indeed he killed abundance of their men, and some time
also was lost in plundering the baggage.

But in the meantime, the glory and advantage of the day was lost to
the king, for the right wing of the Parliament horse could not be so
broken. Sir William Balfour made a desperate charge upon the point of
the king's left, and had it not been for two regiments of dragoons who
were planted in the reserve, had routed the whole wing, for he broke
through the first line, and staggered the second, who advanced to
their assistance, but was so warmly received by those dragoons, who
came seasonably in, and gave their first fire on horseback, that his
fury was checked, and having lost a great many men, was forced to
wheel about to his own men; and had the king had but three regiments
of horse at hand to have charged him, he had been routed. The rest of
this wing kept their ground, and received the first fury of the enemy
with great firmness; after which, advancing in their turn, they
were at once masters of the Earl of Essex's cannon. And here we lost
another advantage; for if any foot had been at hand to support these
horse, they had carried off the cannon, or turned it upon the main
battle of the enemy's foot, but the foot were otherwise engaged. The
horse on this side fought with great obstinacy and variety of success
a great while. Sir Philip Stapleton, who commanded the guards of the
Earl of Essex, being engaged with a party of our Shrewsbury cavaliers,
as we called them, was once in a fair way to have been cut off by
a brigade of our foot, who, being advanced to fall on upon the
Parliament's main body, flanked Sir Philip's horse in their way, and
facing to the left, so furiously charged him with their pikes, that he
was obliged to retire in great disorder, and with the loss of a great
many men and horses.

All this while the foot on both sides were desperately engaged, and
coming close up to the teeth of one another with the clubbed musket
and push of pike, fought with great resolution, and a terrible
slaughter on both sides, giving no quarter for a great while; and they
continued to do thus, till, as if they were tired, and out of wind,
either party seemed willing enough to leave off, and take breath.
Those which suffered most were that brigade which had charged Sir
William Stapleton's horse, who being bravely engaged in the front
with the enemy's foot, were, on the sudden, charged again in front
and flank by Sir William Balfour's horse and disordered, after a
very desperate defence. Here the king's standard was taken, the
standard-bearer, Sir Edward Verney, being killed; but it was rescued
again by Captain Smith, and brought to the king the same night, for
which the king knighted the captain.

This brigade of foot had fought all the day, and had not been broken
at last, if any horse had been at hand to support them. The field
began to be now clear; both armies stood, as it were, gazing at one
another, only the king, having rallied his foot, seemed inclined to
renew the charge, and began to cannonade them, which they could not
return, most of their cannon being nailed while they were in our
possession, and all the cannoniers killed or fled; and our gunners did
execution upon Sir William Balfour's troops for a good while.

My father's regiment being in the right with the prince, I saw little
of the fight but the rout of the enemy's left, and we had as full a
victory there as we could desire, but spent too much time in it. We
killed about 2000 men in that part of the action, and having totally
dispersed them, and plundered their baggage, began to think of our
fellows when 'twas too late to help them. We returned, however,
victorious to the king, just as the battle was over. The king asked
the prince what news? He told him he could give his Majesty a good
account of the enemy's horse. "Ay, by G--d," says a gentleman that
stood by me, "and of their carts too." That word was spoken with such
a sense of the misfortune, and made such an impression on the whole
army, that it occasioned some ill blood afterwards among us; and but
that the king took up the business, it had been of ill consequence,
for some person who had heard the gentleman speak it, informed the
prince who it was, and the prince resenting it, spoke something
about it in the hearing of the party when the king was present. The
gentleman, not at all surprised, told his Highness openly he had said
the words; and though he owned he had no disrespect for his Highness,
yet he could not but say, if it had not been so, the enemy's army had
been better beaten. The prince replied something very disobliging;
upon which the gentleman came up to the king, and kneeling, humbly
besought his Majesty to accept of his commission, and to give him
leave to tell the prince, that whenever his Highness pleased, he was
ready to give him satisfaction. The prince was exceedingly provoked,
and as he was very passionate, began to talk very oddly, and without
all government of himself. The gentleman, as bold as he, but much
calmer preserved his temper, but maintained his quarrel; and the king
was so concerned, that he was very much out of humour with the prince
about it. However, his Majesty, upon consideration, soon ended the
dispute, by laying his commands on them both to speak no more of it
for that day; and refusing the commission from the colonel, for he
was no less, sent for them both next morning in private, and made them
friends again.

But to return to our story. We came back to the king timely enough to
put the Earl of Essex's men out of all humour of renewing the fight,
and as I observed before, both parties stood gazing at one another,
and our cannon playing upon them obliged Sir William Balfour's horse
to wheel off in some disorder, but they returned us none again, which,
as we afterwards understood, was, as I said before, for want of both
powder and gunners, for the cannoniers and firemen were killed, or
had quitted their train in the fight, when our horse had possession of
their artillery; and as they had spiked up some of the cannon, so they
had carried away fifteen carriages of powder.

Night coming on, ended all discourse of more fighting, and the king
drew off and marched towards the hills. I know no other token of
victory which the enemy had than their lying in the field of battle
all night, which they did for no other reason than that, having lost
their baggage and provisions, they had nowhere to go, and which we did
not, because we had good quarters at hand.

The number of prisoners and of the slain were not very unequal; the
enemy lost more men, we most of quality. Six thousand men on both
sides were killed on the spot, whereof, when our rolls were examined,
we missed 2500. We lost our brave general the old Earl of Lindsey,
who was wounded and taken prisoner, and died of his wounds; Sir Edward
Stradling, Colonel Lundsford, prisoners; and Sir Edward Verney and a
great many gentlemen of quality slain. On the other hand, we carried
off Colonel Essex, Colonel Ramsey, and the Lord St John, who also died
of his wounds; we took five ammunition waggons full of powder, and
brought off about 500 horse in the defeat of the left wing, with
eighteen standards and colours, and lost seventeen.

The slaughter of the left wing was so great, and the flight so
effectual, that several of the officers rid clear away, coasting
round, and got to London, where they reported that the Parliament army
was entirely defeated--all lost, killed, or taken, as if none but them
were left alive to carry the news. This filled them with consternation
for a while, but when other messengers followed, all was restored
to quiet again, and the Parliament cried up their victory and
sufficiently mocked God and their general with their public thanks for
it. Truly, as the fight was a deliverance to them, they were in the
right to give thanks for it; but as to its being a victory, neither
side had much to boast of, and they less a great deal than we had.

I got no hurt in this fight, and indeed we of the right wing had but
little fighting; I think I had discharged my pistols but once, and my
carabine twice, for we had more fatigue than fight; the enemy
fled, and we had little to do but to follow and kill those we could
overtake. I spoiled a good horse, and got a better from the enemy in
his room, and came home weary enough. My father lost his horse, and
in the fall was bruised in his thigh by another horse treading on him,
which disabled him for some time, and at his request, by his Majesty's
consent, I commanded the regiment in his absence.

The enemy received a recruit of 4000 men the next morning; if they had
not, I believe they had gone back towards Worcester; but, encouraged
by that reinforcement, they called a council of war, and had a long
debate whether they could attack us again; but notwithstanding their
great victory, they durst not attempt it, though this addition of
strength made them superior to us by 3000 men.

The king indeed expected, that when these troops joined them they
would advance, and we were preparing to receive them at a village
called Aynho, where the headquarters continued three or four days;
and had they really esteemed the first day's work a victory, as they
called it, they would have done it, but they thought not good to
venture, but march away to Warwick, and from thence to Coventry. The
king, to urge them to venture upon him, and come to a second battle,
sits down before Banbury, and takes both town and castle; and two
entire regiments of foot, and one troop of horse, quit the Parliament
service, and take up their arms for the king. This was done almost
before their faces, which was a better proof of a victory on our side,
than any they could pretend to. From Banbury we marched to Oxford; and
now all men saw the Parliament had made a great mistake, for they were
not always in the right any more than we, to leave Oxford without a
garrison. The king caused new regular works to be drawn round it,
and seven royal bastions with ravelins and out-works, a double ditch,
counterscarp, and covered way; all which, added to the advantage
of its situation, made it a formidable place, and from this time it
became our place of arms, and the centre of affairs on the king's
side.

If the Parliament had the honour of the field, the king reaped the
fruits of the victory; for all this part of the country submitted to
him. Essex's army made the best of their way to London, and were but
in an ill condition when they came there, especially their horse.

The Parliament, sensible of this, and receiving daily accounts of the
progress we made, began to cool a little in their temper, abated of
their first rage, and voted an address for peace; and sent to the king
to let him know they were desirous to prevent the effusion of more
blood, and to bring things to an accommodation, or, as they called it,
a right understanding.

I was now, by the king's particular favour, summoned to the councils
of war, my father continuing absent and ill; and now I began to think
of the real grounds, and which was more, of the fatal issue of this
war. I say, I now began it; for I cannot say that I ever rightly
stated matters in my own mind before, though I had been enough used
to blood, and to see the destruction of people, sacking of towns, and
plundering the country; yet 'twas in Germany, and among strangers; but
I found a strange, secret and unaccountable sadness upon my spirits,
to see this acting in my own native country. It grieved me to the
heart, even in the rout of our enemies, to see the slaughter of them;
and even in the fight, to hear a man cry for quarter in English, moved
me to a compassion which I had never been used to; nay, sometimes
it looked to me as if some of my own men had been beaten; and when
I heard a soldier cry, "O God, I am shot," I looked behind me to see
which of my own troop was fallen. Here I saw myself at the cutting of
the throats of my friends; and indeed some of my near relations. My
old comrades and fellow-soldiers in Germany were some with us, some
against us, as their opinions happened to differ in religion. For my
part, I confess I had not much religion in me, at that time; but I
thought religion rightly practised on both sides would have made us
all better friends; and therefore sometimes I began to think, that
both the bishops of our side, and the preachers on theirs, made
religion rather the pretence than the cause of the war. And from those
thoughts I vigorously argued it at the council of war against marching
to Brentford, while the address for a treaty of peace from the
Parliament was in hand: for I was for taking the Parliament by the
handle which they had given us, and entering into a negotiation, with
the advantage of its being at their own request.

I thought the king had now in his hands an opportunity to make an
honourable peace; for this battle of Edgehill, as much as they boasted
of the victory to hearten up their friends, had sorely weakened their
army, and discouraged their party too, which in effect was worse as to
their army. The horse were particularly in an ill case, and the foot
greatly diminished, and the remainder very sickly; but besides this,
the Parliament were greatly alarmed at the progress we made afterward;
and still fearing the king's surprising them, had sent for the Earl of
Essex to London, to defend them; by which the country was, as it were,
defeated and abandoned, and left to be plundered; our parties overrun
all places at pleasure. All this while I considered, that whatever the
soldiers of fortune meant by the war, our desires were to suppress
the exorbitant power of a party, to establish our king in his just
and legal rights; but not with a design to destroy the constitution of
government, and the being of Parliament. And therefore I thought now
was the time for peace, and there were a great many worthy gentlemen
in the army of my mind; and, had our master had ears to hear us, the
war might have had an end here.

This address for peace was received by the king at Maidenhead, whither
this army was now advanced, and his Majesty returned answer by Sir
Peter Killegrew, that he desired nothing more, and would not be
wanting on his part. Upon this the Parliament name commissioners, and
his Majesty excepting against Sir John Evelyn, they left him out,
and sent others; and desired the king to appoint his residence near
London, where the commissioners might wait upon him. Accordingly the
king appointed Windsor for the place of treaty, and desired the
treaty might be hastened. And thus all things looked with a favourable
aspect, when one unlucky action knocked it all on the head, and filled
both parties with more implacable animosities than they had before,
and all hopes of peace vanished.

During this progress of the king's armies, we were always abroad with
the horse ravaging the country, and plundering the Roundheads. Prince
Rupert, a most active vigilant party man, and I must own, fitter for
such than for a general, was never lying still, and I seldom stayed
behind; for our regiment being very well mounted, he would always send
for us, if he had any extraordinary design in hand.

One time in particular he had a design upon Aylesbury, the capital of
Buckinghamshire; indeed our view at first was rather to beat the
enemy out of town and demolish their works, and perhaps raise some
contributions on the rich country round it, than to garrison the
place, and keep it; for we wanted no more garrisons, being masters of
the field.

The prince had 2500 horse with him in this expedition, but no foot;
the town had some foot raised in the country by Mr Hampden, and two
regiments of country militia, whom we made light of, but we found they
stood to their tackle better than well enough. We came very early to
the town, and thought they had no notice of us; but some false brother
had given them the alarm, and we found them all in arms, the hedges
without the town lined with musketeers, on that side in particular
where they expected us, and two regiments of foot drawn up in view to
support them, with some horse in the rear of all.

The prince, willing, however, to do something, caused some of his
horse to alight, and serve as dragoons; and having broken a way into
the enclosures, the horse beat the foot from behind the hedges, while
the rest who were alighted charged them in the lane which leads to
the town. Here they had cast up some works, and fired from their
lines very regularly, considering them as militia only, the governor
encouraging them by his example; so that finding without some foot
there would be no good to be done, we gave it over, and drew off; and
so Aylesbury escaped a scouring for that time.

I cannot deny but these flying parties of horse committed great spoil
among the country people; and sometimes the prince gave a liberty to
some cruelties which were not at all for the king's interest; because
it being still upon our own country, and the king's own subjects, whom
in all his declarations he protested to be careful of, it seemed to
contradict all those protestations and declarations, and served to
aggravate and exasperate the common people; and the king's enemies
made all the advantages of it that was possible, by crying out of
twice as many extravagancies as were committed.

Tis true, the king, who naturally abhorred such things, could not
restrain his men, no, nor his generals, so absolutely as he would
have done. The war, on his side, was very much _à la_ volunteer;
many gentlemen served him at their own charge, and some paid whole
regiments themselves: sometimes also the king's affairs were straiter
than ordinary, and his men were not very well paid, and this obliged
him to wink at their excursions upon the country, though he did not
approve of them. And yet I must own, that in those parts of England
where the war was hottest, there never was seen that ruin and
depopulation, murders, and barbarities, which I have seen even among
Protestant armies abroad, in Germany and other foreign parts of the
world. And if the Parliament people had seen those things abroad, as I
had, they would not have complained.

The most I have seen was plundering the towns for provisions, drinking
up their beer, and turning our horses into their fields, or stacks
of corn; and sometimes the soldiers would be a little rude with the
wenches; but alas! what was this to Count Tilly's ravages in Saxony?
Or what was our taking of Leicester by storm, where they cried out of
our barbarities, to the sacking of New Brandenburg, or the taking of
Magdeburg? In Leicester, of 7000 or 8000 people in the town, 300 were
killed; in Magdeburg, of 25,000 scarce 2700 were left, and the whole
town burnt to ashes. I myself have seen seventeen or eighteen villages
on fire in a day, and the people driven away from their dwellings,
like herds of cattle. I do not instance these greater barbarities to
justify lesser actions, which are nevertheless irregular; but I do
say, that circumstances considered, this war was managed with as
much humanity on both sides as could be expected, especially also
considering the animosity of parties.

But to return to the prince: he had not always the same success in
these enterprises, for sometimes we came short home. And I cannot omit
one pleasant adventure which happened to a party of ours, in one of
these excursions into Buckinghamshire. The major of our regiment was
soundly beaten by a party, which, as I may say, was led by a woman;
and, if I had not rescued him, I know not but he had been taken
prisoner by a woman. It seems our men had besieged some fortified
house about Oxfordshire, towards Thame, and the house being defended
by the lady in her husband's absence, she had yielded the house upon a
capitulation; one of the articles of which was, to march out with
all her servants, soldiers, and goods, and to be conveyed to Thame.
Whether she thought to have gone no farther, or that she reckoned
herself safe there, I know not; but my major, with two troops of
horse, meets with this lady and her party, about five miles from
Thame, as we were coming back from our defeated attack of Aylesbury.
We reckoned ourselves in an enemy's country, and had lived a little at
large, or at discretion, as 'tis called abroad; and these two troops,
with the major, were returning to our detachment from a little
village, where, at the farmer's house, they had met with some liquor,
and truly some of his men were so drunk they could but just sit upon
their horses. The major himself was not much better, and the whole
body were but in a sorry condition to fight. Upon the road they meet
this party; the lady having no design of fighting, and being, as she
thought, under the protection of the articles, sounds a parley, and
desired to speak with the officer. The major, as drunk as he was,
could tell her, that by the articles she was to be assured no farther
than Thame, and being now five miles beyond it, she was a fair enemy,
and therefore demanded to render themselves prisoners. The lady
seemed surprised, but being sensible she was in the wrong, offered
to compound for her goods, and would have given him £300, and I think
seven or eight horses. The major would certainly have taken it, if he
had not been drunk; but he refused it, and gave threatening words to
her, blustering in language which he thought proper to fright a woman,
viz., that he would cut them all to pieces, and give no quarter, and
the like.

The lady, who had been more used to the smell of powder than he
imagined, called some of her servants to her, and, consulting with
them what to do, they all unanimously encouraged her to let them
fight; told her it was plain that the commander was drunk, and all
that were with him were rather worse than he, and hardly able to sit
their horses; and that therefore one bold charge would put them all
into confusion. In a word, she consented, and, as she was a woman,
they desired her to secure herself among the waggons; but she refused,
and told them bravely she would take her fate with them. In short, she
boldly bade my major defiance, and that he might do his worst, since
she had offered him fair, and he had refused it; her mind was altered
now, and she would give him nothing, and bade his officer that
parleyed longer with her be gone; so the parley ended. After this she
gave him fair leave to go back to his men; but before he could tell
his tale to them she was at his heels with all her men, and gave him
such a home charge as put his men into disorder, and, being too drunk
to rally, they were knocked down before they knew what to do with
themselves, and in a few minutes more they took to a plain flight.
But what was still worse, the men, being some of them very drunk, when
they came to run for their lives fell over one another, and tumbled
over their horses, and made such work that a troop of women might have
beaten them all. In this pickle, with the enemy at his heels, I
came in with him, hearing the noise. When I appeared the pursuers
retreated, and, seeing what a condition my people were in, and not
knowing the strength of the enemy, I contented myself with bringing
them off without pursuing the other; nor could I ever hear positively
who this female captain was. We lost seventeen or eighteen of our men,
and about thirty horses; but when the particulars of the story was
told us, our major was so laughed at by the whole army, and laughed
at everywhere, that he was ashamed to show himself for a week or a
fortnight after.

But to return to the king: his Majesty, as I observed, was at
Maidenhead addressed by the Parliament for peace, and Windsor
being appointed for the place of treaty, the van of his army lay at
Colebrook. In the meantime, whether it were true or only a pretence,
but it was reported the Parliament general had sent a body of his
troops, with a train of artillery, to Hammersmith, in order to fall
upon some part of our army, or to take some advanced post, which was
to the prejudice of our men; whereupon the king ordered the army to
march, and, by the favour of a thick mist, came within half a mile of
Brentford before he was discovered. There were two regiments of foot,
and about 600 horse into the town, of the enemy's best troops; these
taking the alarm, posted themselves on the bridge at the west end of
the town. The king attacked them with a select detachment of his best
infantry, and they defended themselves with incredible obstinacy. I
must own I never saw raw men, for they could not have been in arms
above four months, act like them in my life. In short, there was no
forcing these men, for, though two whole brigades of our foot, backed
by our horse, made five several attacks upon them they could not break
them, and we lost a great many brave men in that action. At last,
seeing the obstinacy of these men, a party of horse was ordered to go
round from Osterley; and, entering the town on the north side, where,
though the horse made some resistance, it was not considerable, the
town was presently taken. I led my regiment through an enclosure, and
came into the town nearer to the bridge than the rest, by which means
I got first into the town; but I had this loss by my expedition, that
the foot charged me before the body was come up, and poured in their
shot very furiously. My men were but in an ill case, and would not
have stood much longer, if the rest of the horse coming up the lane
had not found them other employment. When the horse were thus entered,
they immediately dispersed the enemy's horse, who fled away towards
London, and falling in sword in hand upon the rear of the foot, who
were engaged at the bridge, they were all cut in pieces, except about
200, who, scorning to ask quarter, desperately threw themselves into
the river of Thames, where they were most of them drowned.

The Parliament and their party made a great outcry at this
attempt--that it was base and treacherous while in a treaty of peace;
and that the king, having amused them with hearkening to a treaty,
designed to have seized upon their train of artillery first, and,
after that, to have surprised both the city of London and the
Parliament. And I have observed since, that our historians note this
action as contrary to the laws of honour and treaties, though as there
was no cessation of arms agreed on, nothing is more contrary to the
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-à-pie à 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 £40,000 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
enclosures, where we could not follow them, killed about 100 of them,
and took 250 prisoners, with all their horses, and came that night to
Leicester. When we came to Leicester, and had taken up our quarters,
Sir Marmaduke Langdale sent for me to sup with him, and told me
that he had a secret commission in his pocket, which his Majesty had
commanded him not to open till he came to Leicester; that now he had
sent for me to open it together, that we might know what it was we
were to do, and to consider how to do it; so pulling out his sealed
orders, we found we were to get what force we could together, and a
certain number of carriages with ammunition, which the governor of
Leicester was to deliver us, and a certain quantity of provision,
especially corn and salt, and to relieve Newark. This town had been
long besieged. The fortifications of the place, together with its
situation, had rendered it the strongest place in England; and, as it
was the greatest pass in England, so it was of vast consequence to the
king's affairs. There was in it a garrison of brave old rugged boys,
fellows that, like Count Tilly's Germans, had iron faces, and they had
defended themselves with extraordinary bravery a great while, but were
reduced to an exceeding strait for want of provisions.

Accordingly we received the ammunition and provision, and away we went
for Newark; about Melton Mowbray, Colonel Rossiter set upon us, with
above 3000 men; we were about the same number, having 2500 horse, and
800 dragoons. We had some foot, but they were still at Harborough, and
were ordered to come after us.

Rossiter, like a brave officer as he was, charged us with great fury,
and rather outdid us in number, while we defended ourselves with all
the eagerness we could, and withal gave him to understand we were
not so soon to be beaten as he expected. While the fight continued
doubtful, especially on our side, our people, who had charge of the
carriages and provisions, began to enclose our flanks with them, as
if we had been marching, which, though it was done without orders, had
two very good effects, and which did us extraordinary service. First,
it secured us from being charged in the flank, which Rossiter had
twice attempted; and secondly, it secured our carriages from being
plundered, which had spoiled our whole expedition. Being thus
enclosed, we fought with great security; and though Rossiter made
three desperate charges upon us; he could never break us. Our men
received him with so much courage, and kept their order so well, that
the enemy, finding it impossible to force us, gave it over, and left
us to pursue our orders. We did not offer to chase them, but contented
enough to have repulsed and beaten them off, and our business being to
relieve Newark, we proceeded.

If we are to reckon by the enemy's usual method, we got the victory,
because we kept the field, and had the pillage of their dead; but
otherwise, neither side had any great cause to boast. We lost about
150 men, and near as many hurt; they left 170 on the spot, and carried
off some. How many they had wounded we could not tell; we got seventy
or eighty horses, which helped to remount some of our men that had
lost theirs in the fight. We had, however, this advantage, that we
were to march on immediately after this service, the enemy only to
retire to their quarters, which was but hard by. This was an injury to
our wounded men, who we were after obliged to leave at Belvoir Castle,
and from thence we advanced to Newark.

Our business at Newark was to relieve the place, and this we resolved
to do whatever it cost, though, at the same time, we resolved not to
fight unless we were forced to it. The town was rather blocked up than
besieged; the garrison was strong, but ill-provided; we had sent them
word of our coming to them, and our orders to relieve them, and they
proposed some measures for our doing it. The chief strength of the
enemy lay on the other side of the river; but they having also some
notice of our design, had sent over forces to strengthen their leaguer
on this side. The garrison had often surprised them by sallies, and
indeed had chiefly subsisted for some time by what they brought in on
this manner.

Sir Marmaduke Langdale, who was our general for the expedition, was
for a general attempt to raise the siege, but I had persuaded him off
of that; first, because, if we should be beaten, as might be probable,
we then lost the town. Sir Marmaduke briskly replied, "A soldier ought
never to suppose he shall be beaten." "But, sir," says I, "you'll get
more honour by relieving the town, than by beating them. One will be
a credit to your conduct, as the other will be to your courage; and if
you think you can beat them, you may do it afterward, and then if you
are mistaken, the town is nevertheless secured, and half your victory
gained."

He was prevailed with to adhere to this advice, and accordingly we
appeared before the town about two hours before night. The horse drew
up before the enemy's works; the enemy drew up within their works, and
seeing no foot, expected when our dragoons would dismount and attack
them. They were in the right to let us attack them, because of the
advantage of their batteries and works, if that had been our design;
but, as we intended only to amuse them, this caution of theirs
effected our design; for, while we thus faced them with our horse, two
regiments of foot, which came up to us but the night before, and
was all the infantry we had, with the waggons of provisions, and 500
dragoons, taking a compass clean round the town, posted themselves on
the lower side of the town by the river. Upon a signal the garrison
agreed on before, they sallied out at this very juncture with all the
men they could spare, and dividing themselves in two parties, while
one party moved to the left to meet our relief, the other party fell
on upon part of that body which faced us. We kept in motion, and upon
this signal advanced to their works, and our dragoons fired upon
them, and the horse, wheeling and counter-marching often, kept them
continually expecting to be attacked. By this means the enemy were
kept employed, and our foot, with the waggons, appearing on that
quarter where they were least expected, easily defeated the advanced
guards and forced that post, where, entering the leaguer, the other
part of the garrison, who had sallied that way, came up to them,
received the waggons, and the dragoons entered with them into the
town. That party which we faced on the other side of the works knew
nothing of what was done till all was over; the garrison retreated in
good order, and we drew off, having finished what we came for without
fighting. Thus we plentifully stored the town with all things wanting,
and with an addition of 500 dragoons to their garrison; after which we
marched away without fighting a stroke.

Our next orders were to relieve Pontefract Castle, another garrison
of the king's, which had been besieged ever since a few days after the
fight at Marston Moor, by the Lord Fairfax, Sir Thomas Fairfax, and
other generals in their turn. By the way we were joined with 800 horse
out of Derbyshire, and some foot, so many as made us about 4500 men in
all.

Colonel Forbes, a Scotchman, commanded at the siege, in the absence of
the Lord Fairfax. The colonel had sent to my lord for more troops, and
his lordship was gathering his forces to come up to him, but he was
pleased to come too late. We came up with the enemy's leaguer about
the break of day, and having been discovered by their scouts, they,
with more courage than discretion, drew out to meet us. We saw no
reason to avoid them, being stronger in horse than they; and though we
had but a few foot, we had 1000 dragoons, which helped us out. We had
placed our horse and foot throughout in one line, with two reserves
of horse, and between every division of horse a division of foot, only
that on the extremes of our wings there were two parties of horse
on each point by themselves, and the dragoons in the centre on foot.
Their foot charged us home, and stood with push of pike a great while;
but their horse charging our horse and musketeers, and being closed
on the flanks, with those two extended troops on our wings, they
were presently disordered, and fled out of the field. The foot, thus
deserted, were charged on every side and broken. They retreated still
fighting, and in good order for a while; but the garrison sallying
upon them at the same time, and being followed close by our horse,
they were scattered, entirely routed, and most of them killed. The
Lord Fairfax was come with his horse as far as Ferrybridge, but the
fight was over, and all he could do was to rally those that fled, and
save some of their carriages, which else had fallen into our hands. We
drew up our little army in order of battle the next day, expecting the
Lord Fairfax would have charged us; but his lordship was so far from
any such thoughts that he placed a party of dragoons, with orders to
fortify the pass at Ferrybridge, to prevent our falling upon him in
his retreat, which he needed not have done; for, having raised the
siege of Pontefract, our business was done, we had nothing to say to
him, unless we had been strong enough to stay.

We lost not above thirty men in this action, and the enemy 300, with
about 150 prisoners, one piece of cannon, all their ammunition, 1000
arms, and most of their baggage, and Colonel Lambert was once taken
prisoner, being wounded, but got off again.

We brought no relief for the garrison, but the opportunity to furnish
themselves out of the country, which they did very plentifully. The
ammunition taken from the enemy was given to them, which they wanted,
and was their due, for they had seized it in the sally they made,
before the enemy was quite defeated.

I cannot omit taking notice on all occasions how exceeding serviceable
this method was of posting musketeers in the intervals, among the
horse, in all this war. I persuaded our generals to it as much as
possible, and I never knew a body of horse beaten that did so: yet I
had great difficulty to prevail upon our people to believe it, though
it was taught me by the greatest general in the world, viz., the King
of Sweden. Prince Rupert did it at the battle of Marston Moor; and had
the Earl of Newcastle not been obstinate against it in his right wing,
as I observed before, the day had not been lost. In discoursing this
with Sir Marmaduke Langdale, I had related several examples of the
serviceableness of these small bodies of firemen, and with great
difficulty brought him to agree, telling him I would be answerable
for the success. But after the fight, he told me plainly he saw the
advantage of it, and would never fight otherwise again if he had any
foot to place. So having relieved these two places, we hastened by
long marches through Derbyshire, to join Prince Rupert on the edge of
Shropshire and Cheshire. We found Colonel Rossiter had followed us at
a distance ever since the business at Melton Mowbray, but never cared
to attack us, and we found he did the like still. Our general would
fain have been doing with him again, but we found him too shy. Once
we laid a trap for him at Dovebridge, between Derby and
Burton-upon-Trent, the body being marched two days before. Three
hundred dragoons were left to guard the bridge, as if we were afraid
he should fall upon us. Upon this we marched, as I said, on to Burton,
and the next day, fetching a compass round, came to a village near
Titbury Castle, whose name I forgot, where we lay still expecting our
dragoons would be attacked.

Accordingly, the colonel, strengthened with some troops of horse from
Yorkshire, comes up to the bridge, and finding some dragoons posted,
advances to charge them. The dragoons immediately get a-horseback, and
run for it, as they were ordered. But the old lad was not to be caught
so, for he halts immediately at the bridge, and would not come over
till he had sent three or four flying parties abroad to discover the
country. One of these parties fell into our hands, and received but
coarse entertainment. Finding the plot would not take, we appeared and
drew up in view of the bridge, but he would not stir. So we continued
our march into Cheshire, where we joined Prince Rupert and Prince
Maurice, making together a fine body, being above 8000 horse and
dragoons.

This was the best and most successful expedition I was in during this
war. 'Twas well concerted, and executed with as much expedition and
conduct as could be desired, and the success was answerable to it. And
indeed, considering the season of the year (for we set out from Oxford
the latter end of February), the ways bad, and the season wet, it
was a terrible march of above 200 miles, in continual action, and
continually dodged and observed by a vigilant enemy, and at a time
when the north was overrun by their armies, and the Scots wanting
employment for their forces. Yet in less than twenty-three days we
marched 200 miles, fought the enemy in open field four times, relieved
one garrison besieged, and raised the siege of another, and joined our
friends at last in safety.

The enemy was in great pain for Sir William Brereton and his forces,
and expresses rode night and day to the Scots in the north, and to the
parties in Lancashire to come to his help. The prince, who used to be
rather too forward to fight than otherwise, could not be persuaded to
make use of this opportunity, but loitered, if I may be allowed to say
so, till the Scots, with a brigade of horse and 2000 foot, had joined
him; and then 'twas not thought proper to engage them.

I took this opportunity to go to Shrewsbury to visit my father, who
was a prisoner of war there, getting a pass from the enemy's governor.
They allowed him the liberty of the town, and sometimes to go to his
own house upon his parole, so that his confinement was not very much
to his personal injury. But this, together with the charges he had
been at in raising the regiment, and above £20,000 in money and plate,
which at several times he had lent, or given rather to the king, had
reduced our family to very ill circumstances; and now they talked of
cutting down his woods.

I had a great deal of discourse with my father on this affair; and,
finding him extremely concerned, I offered to go to the king and
desire his leave to go to London and treat about his composition, or
to render myself a prisoner in his stead, while he went up himself.
In this difficulty I treated with the governor of the town, who very
civilly offered me his pass to go for London, which I accepted, and,
waiting on Prince Rupert, who was then at Worcester, I acquainted him
with my design. The prince was unwilling I should go to London;
but told me he had some prisoners of the Parliament's friends in
Cumberland, and he would get an exchange for my father. I told him
if he would give me his word for it I knew I might depend upon it,
otherwise there was so many of the king's party in their hands, that
his Majesty was tired with solicitations for exchanges, for we never
had a prisoner but there was ten offers of exchanges for him. The
prince told me I should depend upon him; and he was as good as his
word quickly after.

While the prince lay at Worcester he made an incursion into
Herefordshire, and having made some of the gentlemen prisoners,
brought them to Worcester; and though it was an action which had not
been usual, they being persons not in arms, yet the like being my
father's case, who was really not in commission, nor in any military
service, having resigned his regiment three years before to me, the
prince insisted on exchanging them for such as the Parliament had
in custody in like circumstances. The gentlemen seeing no remedy,
solicited their own case at the Parliament, and got it passed in
their behalf; and by this means my father got his liberty, and by the
assistance of the Earl of Denbigh got leave to come to London to make
a composition as a delinquent for his estate. This they charged at
£7000, but by the assistance of the same noble person he got off for
£4000. Some members of the committee moved very kindly that my father
should oblige me to quit the king's service, but that, as a thing
which might be out of his power, was not insisted on.

The modelling the Parliament army took them up all this winter, and
we were in great hopes the divisions which appeared amongst them might
have weakened their party; but when they voted Sir Thomas Fairfax to
be general, I confess I was convinced the king's affairs were lost and
desperate. Sir Thomas, abating the zeal of his party, and the mistaken
opinion of his cause, was the fittest man amongst them to undertake
the charge. He was a complete general, strict in his discipline, wary
in conduct, fearless in action, unwearied in the fatigue of the
war, and withal, of a modest, noble, generous disposition. We all
apprehended danger from him, and heartily wished him of our own side;
and the king was so sensible, though he would not discover it, that
when an account was brought him of the choice they had made, he
replied, "he was sorry for it; he had rather it had been anybody than
he."

The first attempts of this new general and new army were at Oxford,
which, by the neighbourhood of a numerous garrison in Abingdon, began
to be very much straitened for provisions; and the new forces under
Cromwell and Skippon, one lieutenant-general, the other major-general
to Fairfax, approaching with a design to block it up, the king left
the place, supposing his absence would draw them away, as it soon did.

The king resolving to leave Oxford, marches from thence with all his
forces, the garrison excepted, with design to have gone to Bristol;
but the plague was in Bristol, which altered the measures, and changed
the course of the king's designs, so he marched for Worcester about
the beginning of June 1645. The foot, with a train of forty pieces of
cannon, marching into Worcester, the horse stayed behind some time in
Gloucestershire.

The first action our army did, was to raise the siege of Chester; Sir
William Brereton had besieged it, or rather blocked it up, and when
his Majesty came to Worcester, he sent Prince Rupert with 4000 horse
and dragoons, with orders to join some foot out of Wales, to raise the
siege; but Sir William thought fit to withdraw, and not stay for them,
and the town was freed without fighting. The governor took care in
this interval to furnish himself with all things necessary for another
siege; and, as for ammunition and other necessaries, he was in no
want.

I was sent with a party into Staffordshire, with design to intercept
a convoy of stores coming from London, for the use of Sir William
Brereton; but they having some notice of the design, stopped, and went
out of the road to Burton-upon-Trent, and so I missed them; but that
we might not come back quite empty, we attacked Hawkesley House, and
took it, where we got good booty, and brought eighty prisoners back to
Worcester. From Worcester the king advanced into Shropshire, and took
his headquarters at Bridgnorth. This was a very happy march of the
king's, and had his Majesty proceeded, he had certainly cleared the
north once more of his enemies, for the country was generally for him.
At his advancing so far as Bridgnorth, Sir William Brereton fled up
into Lancashire; the Scots brigades who were with him retreated into
the north, while yet the king was above forty miles from them, and all
things lay open for conquest. The new generals, Fairfax and Cromwell,
lay about Oxford, preparing as if they would besiege it, and gave
the king's army so much leisure, that his Majesty might have been at
Newcastle before they could have been half way to him. But Heaven,
when the ruin of a person or party is determined, always so infatuates
their counsels as to make them instrumental to it themselves.

The king let slip this great opportunity, as some thought, intending
to break into the associated counties of Northampton, Cambridge,
Norfolk, where he had some interests forming. What the design was,
we knew not, but the king turns eastward, and marches into
Leicestershire, and having treated the country but very indifferently,
as having deserved no better of us, laid siege to Leicester.

This was but a short siege; for the king, resolving not to lose time,
fell on with his great guns, and having beaten down their works, our
foot entered, after a vigorous resistance, and took the town by storm.
There was some blood shed here, the town being carried by assault; but
it was their own faults; for after the town was taken, the soldiers
and townsmen obstinately fought us in the market-place; insomuch that
the horse was called to enter the town to clear the streets. But this
was not all; I was commanded to advance with these horse, being three
regiments, and to enter the town; the foot, who were engaged in the
streets, crying out, "Horse, horse." Immediately I advanced to the
gate, for we were drawn up about musket-shot from the works, to have
supported our foot in case of a sally. Having seized the gate, I
placed a guard of horse there, with orders to let nobody pass in
or out, and dividing my troops, rode up by two ways towards the
market-place. The garrison defending themselves in the market-place,
and in the churchyard with great obstinacy, killed us a great many
men; but as soon as our horse appeared they demanded quarter, which
our foot refused them in the first heat, as is frequent in all
nations, in like cases, till at last they threw down their arms, and
yielded at discretion; and then I can testify to the world, that fair
quarter was given them. I am the more particular in this relation,
having been an eye-witness of the action, because the king was
reproached in all the public libels, with which those times abounded,
for having put a great many to death, and hanged the committee of
the Parliament, and some Scots, in cold blood, which was a notorious
forgery; and as I am sure there was no such thing done, so I must
acknowledge I never saw any inclination in his Majesty to cruelty, or
to act anything which was not practised by the general laws of war,
and by men of honour in all nations.

But the matter of fact, in respect to the garrison, was as I have
related; and, if they had thrown down their arms sooner, they had had
mercy sooner; but it was not for a conquering army, entering a town by
storm, to offer conditions of quarter in the streets.

Another circumstance was, that a great many of the inhabitants, both
men and women, were killed, which is most true; and the case was thus:
the inhabitants, to show their over-forward zeal to defend the town,
fought in the breach; nay, the very women, to the honour of the
Leicester ladies, if they like it, officiously did their parts; and
after the town was taken, and when, if they had had any brains in
their zeal, they would have kept their houses, and been quiet, they
fired upon our men out of their windows, and from the tops of their
houses, and threw tiles upon their heads; and I had several of my men
wounded so, and seven or eight killed. This exasperated us to the last
degree; and, finding one house better manned than ordinary, and many
shot fired at us out of the windows, I caused my men to attack it,
resolved to make them an example for the rest; which they did, and
breaking open the doors, they killed all they found there, without
distinction; and I appeal to the world if they were to blame. If the
Parliament committee, or the Scots deputies were here, they ought to
have been quiet, since the town was taken; but they began with us,
and, I think, brought it upon themselves. This is the whole case, so
far as came within my knowledge, for which his Majesty was so much
abused.

We took here Colonel Gray and Captain Hacker, and about 300 prisoners,
and about 300 more were killed. This was the last day of May 1645.

His Majesty having given over Oxford for lost, continued here some
days, viewed the town, ordered the fortifications to be augmented,
and prepares to make it the seat of war. But the Parliament, roused at
this appearance of the king's army, orders their general to raise the
siege of Oxford, where the garrison had, in a sally, ruined some of
their works, and killed them 150 men, taking several prisoners, and
carrying them with them into the city; and orders him to march towards
Leicester, to observe the king.

The king had now a small, but gallant army, all brave tried soldiers,
and seemed eager to engage the new-modelled army; and his Majesty,
hearing that Sir Thomas Fairfax, having raised the siege of Oxford,
advanced towards him, fairly saves him the trouble of a long march,
and meets him half way.

The army lay at Daventry, and Fairfax at Towcester, about eight miles
off. Here the king sends away 600 horse, with 3000 head of cattle, to
relieve his people in Oxford; the cattle he might have spared better
than the men. The king having thus victualled Oxford, changes his
resolution of fighting Fairfax, to whom Cromwell was now joined with
4000 men, or was within a day's march, and marches northward. This
was unhappy counsel, because late given. Had we marched northward
at first, we had done it; but thus it was. Now we marched with a
triumphing enemy at our heels, and at Naseby their advanced parties
attacked our rear. The king, upon this, alters his resolution again,
and resolves to fight, and at midnight calls us up at Harborough to
come to a council of war. Fate and the king's opinion determined the
council of war; and 'twas resolved to fight. Accordingly the van, in
which was Prince Rupert's brigade of horse, of which my regiment was a
part, counter-marched early in the morning.

By five o'clock in the morning, the whole army, in order of battle,
began to descry the enemy from the rising grounds, about a mile from
Naseby, and moved towards them. They were drawn up on a little ascent
in a large common fallow field, in one line extended from one side of
the field to the other, the field something more than a mile over, our
army in the same order, in one line, with the reserve.

The king led the main battle of foot, Prince Rupert the right wing of
the horse, and Sir Marmaduke Langdale the left. Of the enemy Fairfax
and Skippon led the body, Cromwell and Rossiter the right, and Ireton
the left, the numbers of both armies so equal, as not to differ 500
men, save that the king had most horse by about 1000, and Fairfax most
foot by about 500. The number was in each army about 18,000 men. The
armies coming close up, the wings engaged first. The prince with
his right wing charged with his wonted fury, and drove all the
Parliament's wing of horse, one division excepted, clear out of the
field; Ireton, who commanded this wing, give him his due, rallied
often, and fought like a lion; but our wing bore down all before them,
and pursued them with a terrible execution.

Ireton seeing one division of his horse left, repaired to them, and
keeping his ground, fell foul of a brigade of our foot, who coming up
to the head of the line, he like a madman charges them with his horse.
But they with their pikes tore him to pieces; so that this division
was entirely ruined. Ireton himself, thrust through the thigh with
a pike, wounded in the face with a halberd, was unhorsed and taken
prisoner.

Cromwell, who commanded the Parliament's right wing, charged Sir
Marmaduke Langdale with extraordinary fury, but he, an old tried
soldier, stood firm, and received the charge with equal gallantry,
exchanging all their shot, carabines and pistols and then fell on
sword in hand. Rossiter and Whalley had the better on the point of
the wing, and routed two divisions of horse, pushed them behind the
reserves, where they rallied and charged again, but were at last
defeated; the rest of the horse, now charged in the flank, retreated
fighting, and were pushed behind the reserves of foot.

While this was doing the foot engaged with equal fierceness, and for
two hours there was a terrible fire. The king's foot, backed with
gallant officers, and full of rage at the rout of their horse,
bore down the enemy's brigade led by Skippon. The old man, wounded,
bleeding, retreats to their reserves. All the foot, except the
general's brigade, were thus driven into the reserves, where their
officers rallied them, and bring them on to a fresh charge; and here
the horse, having driven our horse above a quarter of a mile from the
foot, face about, and fall in on the rear of the foot.

Had our right wing done thus, the day had been secured; but Prince
Rupert, according to his custom, following the flying enemy, never
concerned himself with the safety of those behind; and yet he returned
sooner than he had done in like cases too. At our return we found
all in confusion, our foot broken, all but one brigade, which, though
charged in the front, flank, and rear, could not be broken till Sir
Thomas Fairfax himself came up to the charge with fresh men, and then
they were rather cut in pieces than beaten, for they stood with their
pikes charged every way to the last extremity.

In this condition, at the distance of a quarter of a mile, we saw the
king rallying his horse, and preparing to renew the fight; and our
wing of horse coming up to him, gave him opportunity to draw up a
large body of horse, so large that all the enemy's horse facing us
stood still and looked on, but did not think fit to charge us till
their foot, who had entirely broken our main battle, were put in order
again, and brought up to us.

The officers about the king advised his Majesty rather to draw off;
for, since our foot were lost, it would be too much odds to expose the
horse to the fury of their whole army, and would but be sacrificing
his best troops without any hopes of success. The king, though with
great regret at the loss of his foot, yet seeing there was no other
hope, took this advice, and retreated in good order to Harborough, and
from thence to Leicester.

This was the occasion of the enemy having so great a number of
prisoners; for the horse being thus gone off, the foot had no means
to make their retreat, and were obliged to yield themselves.
Commissary-General Ireton being taken by a captain of foot, makes the
captain his prisoner, to save his life, and gives him his liberty for
his courtesy before.

Cromwell and Rossiter, with all the enemy's horse, followed us as far
as Leicester, and killed all that they could lay hold on straggling
from the body, but durst not attempt to charge us in a body. The
king, expecting the enemy would come to Leicester, removes to
Ashby-de-la-Zouch, where we had some time to recollect ourselves.

This was the most fatal action of the whole war, not so much for
the loss of our cannon, ammunition, and baggage, of which the enemy
boasted so much, but as it was impossible for the king ever to
retrieve it. The foot, the best that ever he was master of, could
never be supplied; his army in the west was exposed to certain ruin,
the north overrun with the Scots; in short, the case grew desperate,
and the king was once upon the point of bidding us all disband, and
shift for ourselves.

We lost in this fight not above 2000 slain, and the Parliament near
as many, but the prisoners were a great number; the whole body of foot
being, as I have said, dispersed, there were 4500 prisoners, besides
400 officers, 2000 horses, 12 pieces of cannon, 40 barrels of powder,
all the king's baggage, coaches, most of his servants, and his
secretary, with his cabinet of letters, of which the Parliament
made great improvement, and basely enough caused his private
letters--between his Majesty and the queen, her Majesty's letters to
the king, and a great deal of such stuff--to be printed.

After this fatal blow, being retreated, as I have said, to
Ashby-de-la-Zouch in Leicestershire, the king ordered us to divide;
his Majesty, with a body of horse, about 3000, went to Lichfield, and
through Cheshire into North Wales, and Sir Marmaduke Langdale, with
about 2500, went to Newark.

The king remained in Wales for several months; and though the length
of the war had almost drained that country of men, yet the king
raised a great many men there, recruited his horse regiments, and got
together six or seven regiments of foot, which seemed to look like the
beginning of a new army.

I had frequent discourses with his Majesty in this low ebb of his
affairs, and he would often wish he had not exposed his army at
Naseby. I took the freedom once to make a proposition to his Majesty,
which, if it had taken effect, I verily believe would have given a new
turn to his affairs; and that was, at once to slight all his garrisons
in the kingdom, and give private orders to all the soldiers in every
place, to join in bodies, and meet at two general rendezvous, which I
would have appointed to be, one at Bristol, and one at West Chester.
I demonstrated how easily all the forces might reach these two places;
and both being strong and wealthy places, and both seaports, he would
have a free communication by sea with Ireland, and with his friends
abroad; and having Wales entirely his own, he might yet have an
opportunity to make good terms for himself, or else have another fair
field with the enemy.

Upon a fair calculation of his troops in several garrisons and small
bodies dispersed about, I convinced the king, by his own accounts,
that he might have two complete armies, each of 25,000 foot, 8000
horse, and 2000 dragoons; that the Lord Goring and the Lord Hopton
might ship all their forces, and come by sea in two tides, and be
with him in a shorter time than the enemy could follow. With two such
bodies he might face the enemy, and make a day of it; but now his men
were only sacrificed, and eaten up by piecemeal in a party-war,
and spent their lives and estates to do him no service. That if the
Parliament garrisoned the towns and castles he should quit, they would
lessen their army, and not dare to see him in the field: and if they
did not, but left them open, then 'twould be no loss to him, but he
might possess them as often as he pleased.

This advice I pressed with such arguments, that the king was once
going to despatch orders for the doing it; but to be irresolute in
counsel is always the companion of a declining fortune; the king was
doubtful, and could not resolve till it was too late.

And yet, though the king's forces were very low, his Majesty was
resolved to make one adventure more, and it was a strange one; for,
with but a handful of men, he made a desperate march, almost 250 miles
in the middle of the whole kingdom, compassed about with armies and
parties innumerable, traversed the heart of his enemy's country,
entered their associated counties, where no army had ever yet come,
and in spite of all their victorious troops facing and following him,
alarmed even London itself and returned safe to Oxford.

His Majesty continued in Wales from the battle at Naseby till the 5th
or 6th of August, and till he had an account from all parts of the
progress of his enemies, and the posture of his own affairs.

Here we found, that the enemy being hard pressed in Somersetshire by
the Lord Goring, and Lord Hopton's forces, who had taken Bridgewater,
and distressed Taunton, which was now at the point of surrender,
they had ordered Fairfax and Cromwell, and the whole army, to march
westward to relieve the town; which they did, and Goring's troops were
worsted, and himself wounded at the fight at Langport.

The Scots, who were always the dead weight upon the king's affairs,
having no more work to do in the north, were, at the Parliament's
desire, advanced southward, and then ordered away towards South Wales,
and were set down to the siege of Hereford. Here this famous Scotch
army spent several months in a fruitless siege, ill provided of
ammunition, and worse with money; and having sat near three months
before the town, and done little but eaten up the country round them,
upon the repeated accounts of the progress of the Marquis of Montrose
in that kingdom, and pressing instances of their countrymen, they
resolved to raise their siege, and go home to relieve their friends.

The king, who was willing to be rid of the Scots, upon good terms, and
therefore to hasten them, and lest they should pretend to push on the
siege to take the town first, gives it out, that he was resolved with
all his forces to go into Scotland, and join Montrose; and so having
secured Scotland, to renew the war from thence.

And accordingly his Majesty marches northwards, with a body of 4000
horse; and, had the king really done this, and with that body of horse
marched away (for he had the start of all his enemies, by above a
fortnight's march), he had then had the fairest opportunity for a
general turn of all his affairs, that he ever had in all the latter
part of this war. For Montrose, a gallant daring soldier, who from
the least shadow of force in the farthest corner of this country, had,
rolling like a snowball, spread all over Scotland, was come into
the south parts, and had summoned Edinburgh, frighted away their
statesmen, beaten their soldiers at Dundee and other places; and
letters and messengers in the heels of one another, repeated their
cries to their brethren in England, to lay before them the sad
condition of the country, and to hasten the army to their relief. The
Scots lords of the enemy's party fled to Berwick, and the chancellor
of Scotland goes himself to General Leslie, to press him for help.

In this extremity of affairs Scotland lay when we marched out of
Wales. The Scots, at the siege of Hereford, hearing the king was gone
northward with his horse, conclude he was gone directly for Scotland,
and immediately send Leslie with 4000 horse and foot to follow, but
did not yet raise the siege. But the king, still irresolute, turns
away to the eastward, and comes to Lichfield, where he showed his
resentments at Colonel Hastings for his easy surrender of Leicester.

In this march the enemy took heart. We had troops of horse on every
side upon us like hounds started at a fresh stag. Leslie, with the
Scots, and a strong body followed in our rear, Major-General Poyntz,
Sir John Gell, Colonel Rossiter, and others in our way; they pretended
to be 10,000 horse, and yet never durst face us. The Scots made one
attempt upon a troop which stayed a little behind, and took some
prisoners; but when a regiment of our horse faced them they retired.
At a village near Lichfield another party of about 1000 horse attacked
my regiment. We were on the left of the army, and at a little too
far a distance. I happened to be with the king at that time, and
my lieutenant-colonel with me, so that the major had charge of the
regiment. He made a very handsome defence, but sent messengers for
speedy relief. We were on a march, and therefore all ready, and the
king orders me a regiment of dragoons and 300 horse, and the body
halted to bring us off, not knowing how strong the enemy might be.
When I came to the place I found my major hard laid to, but fighting
like a lion. The enemy had broke in upon him in two places, and had
routed one troop, cutting them off from the body, and had made them
all prisoners. Upon this I fell in with the 300 horse, and cleared
my major from a party who charged him in the flank; the dragoons
immediately lighting, one party of them comes up on my wing, and
saluting the enemy with their muskets, put them to a stand, the other
party of dragoons wheeling to the left endeavouring to get behind
them. The enemy, perceiving they should be overpowered, retreated in
as good order as they could, but left us most of our prisoners, and
about thirty of their own. We lost about fifteen of our men, and
the enemy about forty, chiefly by the fire of our dragoons in their
retreat.

In this posture we continued our march; and though the king halted
at Lichfield--which was a dangerous article, having so many of the
enemy's troops upon his hands, and this time gave them opportunity to
get into a body--yet the Scots, with their General Leslie, resolving
for the north, the rest of the troops were not able to face us, till,
having ravaged the enemy's country through Staffordshire, Warwick,
Leicester, and Nottinghamshire, we came to the leaguer before Newark.

The king was once more in the mind to have gone into Scotland, and
called a council of war to that purpose; but then it was resolved by
all hands that it would be too late to attempt it, for the Scots and
Major-General Poyntz were before us, and several strong bodies
of horse in our rear; and there was no venturing now, unless any
advantage presented to rout one of those parties which attended us.

Upon these and like considerations we resolved for Newark; on our
approach the forces which blocked up that town drew off, being too
weak to oppose us, for the king was now above 5000 horse and dragoons,
besides 300 horse and dragoons he took with him from Newark.

We halted at Newark to assist the garrison, or give them time rather
to furnish themselves from the country with what they wanted, which
they were very diligent in doing; for in two days' time they filled
a large island which lies under the town, between the two branches of
the Trent, with sheep, oxen, cows, and horses, an incredible number;
and our affairs being now something desperate, we were not very
nice in our usage of the country, for really if it was not with a
resolution both to punish the enemy and enrich ourselves, no man can
give any rational account why this desperate journey was undertaken.
'Tis certain the Newarkers, in the respite they gained by our coming,
got above £50,000 from the country round them in corn, cattle, money,
and other plunder.

From hence we broke into Lincolnshire, and the king lay at Belvoir
Castle, and from Belvoir Castle to Stamford. The swiftness of our
march was a terrible surprise to the enemy; for our van being at a
village on the great road called Stilton, the country people fled
into the Isle of Ely, and every way, as if all was lost. Indeed our
dragoons treated the country very coarsely, and all our men in general
made themselves rich. Between Stilton and Huntingdon we had a small
bustle with some of the associated troops of horse, but they were soon
routed, and fled to Huntingdon, where they gave such an account of us
to their fellows that they did not think fit to stay for us, but left
their foot to defend themselves as well as they could.

While this was doing in the van a party from Burleigh House, near
Stamford, the seat of the Earl of Exeter, pursued four troops of
our horse, who, straggling towards Peterborough, and committing some
disorders there, were surprised before they could get into a posture
of fighting; and encumbered, as I suppose, with their plunder, they
were entirely routed, lost most of their horses, and were forced to
come away on foot; but finding themselves in this condition, they got
in a body into the enclosures, and in that posture turning dragoons,
they lined the hedges, and fired upon the enemy with their carabines.
This way of fighting, though not very pleasant to troopers, put the
enemy's horse to some stand, and encouraged our men to venture into a
village, where the enemy had secured forty of their horse; and boldly
charging the guard, they beat them off, and recovering those horses,
the rest made their retreat good to Wansford Bridge; but we lost near
100 horses, and about twelve of our men taken prisoners.

The next day the king took Huntingdon; the foot which were left in the
town, as I observed by their horse, had posted themselves at the foot
of the bridge, and fortified the pass, with such things as the haste
and shortness of the time would allow; and in this posture they seemed
resolute to defend themselves. I confess, had they in time planted a
good force here, they might have put a full stop to our little army;
for the river is large and deep, the country on the left marshy, full
of drains and ditches, and unfit for horse, and we must have either
turned back, or took the right hand into Bedfordshire; but here not
being above 400 foot, and they forsaken of their horse, the resistance
they made was to no other purpose than to give us occasion to knock
them on the head, and plunder the town.

However, they defended the bridge, as I have said, and opposed our
passage. I was this day in the van, and our forlorn having entered
Huntingdon without any great resistance till they came to the bridge,
finding it barricaded, they sent me word; I caused the troops to halt,
and rode up to the forlorn, to view the countenance of the enemy, and
found by the posture they had put themselves in, that they resolved to
sell us the passage as dear as they could.

I sent to the king for some dragoons, and gave him account of what I
observed of the enemy, and that I judged them to be 1000 men; for I
could not particularly see their numbers. Accordingly the king ordered
500 dragoons to attack the bridge, commanded by a major; the enemy had
200 musketeers placed on the bridge, their barricade served them for
a breastwork on the front, and the low walls on the bridge served
to secure their flanks. Two bodies of their foot were placed on the
opposite banks of the river, and a reserve stood in the highway on the
rear. The number of their men could not have been better ordered, and
they wanted not courage answerable to the conduct of the party. They
were commanded by one Bennet, a resolute officer, who stood in the
front of his men on the bridge with a pike in his hand.

Before we began to fall on, the king ordered to view the river, to see
if it was nowhere passable, or any boat to be had; but the river being
not fordable, and the boats all secured on the other side, the attack
was resolved on, and the dragoons fell on with extraordinary bravery.
The foot defended themselves obstinately, and beat off our dragoons
twice, and though Bennet was killed upon the spot, and after him his
lieutenant, yet their officers relieving them with fresh men, they
would certainly have beat us all off, had not a venturous fellow, one
of our dragoons, thrown himself into the river, swam over, and, in the
midst of a shower of musket-bullets, cut the rope which tied a great
flat-bottom boat, and brought her over. With the help of this boat, I
got over 100 troopers first, and then their horses, and then 200 more
without their horses; and with this party fell in with one of the
small bodies of foot that were posted on that side, and having routed
them, and after them the reserve which stood on the road, I made up
to the other party. They stood their ground, and having rallied the
runaways of both the other parties, charged me with their pikes, and
brought me to a retreat; but by this time the king had sent over 300
men more, and they coming up to me, the foot retreated. Those on the
bridge finding how 'twas, and having no supplies sent them, as before,
fainted, and fled; and the dragoons rushing forward, most of them were
killed; about 150 of the enemy were killed, of which all the officers
at the bridge, the rest run away.

The town suffered for it, for our men left them little of anything
they could carry. Here we halted and raised contributions, took money
of the country and of the open towns, to exempt them from plunder.
Twice we faced the town of Cambridge, and several of our officers
advised his Majesty to storm it. But having no foot, and but 1200
dragoons, wiser heads diverted him from it, and leaving Cambridge
on the left, we marched to Woburn, in Bedfordshire, and our parties
raised money all over the country quite into Hertfordshire, within
five miles of St Alban's.

The swiftness of our march, and uncertainty which way we intended,
prevented all possible preparation to oppose us, and we met with no
party able to make head against us. From Woburn the king went through
Buckingham to Oxford; some of our men straggling in the villages for
plunder, were often picked up by the enemy. But in all this long march
we did not lose 200 men, got an incredible booty, and brought six
waggons laden with money, besides 2000 horses and 3000 head of cattle,
into Oxford. From Oxford his Majesty moves again into Gloucestershire,
having left about 1500 of his horse at Oxford to scour the country,
and raise contributions, which they did as far as Reading.

Sir Thomas Fairfax was returned from taking Bridgewater, and was sat
down before Bristol, in which Prince Rupert commanded with a strong
garrison, 2500 foot and 1000 horse. We had not force enough to attempt
anything there. But the Scots, who lay still before Hereford,
were afraid of us, having before parted with all their horse under
Lieutenant-General Leslie, and but ill stored with provisions; and if
we came on their backs, were in a fair way to be starved, or made to
buy their provisions at the price of their blood.

His Majesty was sensible of this, and had we had but ten regiments of
foot, would certainly have fought the Scots. But we had no foot, or so
few as was not worth while to march them. However, the king marched
to Worcester, and the Scots, apprehending they should be blocked
up, immediately raised the siege, pretending it was to go help their
brethren in Scotland, and away they marched northwards.

We picked up some of their stragglers, but they were so poor, had been
so ill paid, and so harassed at the siege, that they had neither money
nor clothes; and the poor soldiers fed upon apples and roots, and ate
the very green corn as it grew in the fields, which reduced them to
a very sorry condition of health, for they died like people infected
with the plague.

'Twas now debated whether we should yet march for Scotland, but two
things prevented--(1.) The plague was broke out there, and multitudes
died of it, which made the king backward, and the men more backward.
(2.) The Marquis of Montrose, having routed a whole brigade of
Leslie's best horse, and carried all before him, wrote to his Majesty
that he did not now want assistance, but was in hopes in a few days
to send a body of foot into England to his Majesty's assistance. This
over-confidence of his was his ruin; for, on the contrary, had he
earnestly pressed the king to have marched, and fallen in with his
horse, the king had done it, and been absolutely master of Scotland
in a fortnight's time; but Montrose was too confident, and defied them
all, till at last they got their forces together, and Leslie with his
horse out of England, and worsted him in two or three encounters, and
then never left him till they drove him out of Scotland.

While his Majesty stayed at Worcester, several messengers came to him
from Cheshire for relief, being exceedingly straitened by the forces
of the Parliament; in order to which the king marched, but Shrewsbury
being in the enemy's hands, he was obliged to go round by Ludlow,
where he was joined by some foot out of Wales. I took this opportunity
to ask his Majesty's leave to go by Shrewsbury to my father's,
and, taking only two servants, I left the army two days before they
marched.

This was the most unsoldier-like action that ever I was guilty of, to
go out of the army to pay a visit when a time of action was just at
hand; and, though I protest I had not the least intimation, no, not
from my own thoughts, that the army would engage, at least before they
came to Chester, before which I intended to meet them, yet it looked
so ill, so like an excuse or a sham of cowardice, or disaffection to
the cause and to my master's interest, or something I know not what,
that I could not bear to think of it, nor never had the heart to see
the king's face after it.

From Ludlow the king marched to relieve Chester. Poyntz, who commanded
the Parliament's forces, follows the king, with design to join with
the forces before Chester, under Colonel Jones, before the king could
come up. To that end Poyntz passes through Shrewsbury the day that the
king marched from Ludlow; yet the king's forces got the start of him,
and forced him to engage. Had the king engaged him but three hours
sooner, and consequently farther off from Chester, he had ruined him,
for Poyntz's men, not able to stand the shock of the king's horse,
gave ground, and would in half-an-hour more have been beaten out of
the field; but Colonel Jones, with a strong party from the camp, which
was within two miles; comes up in the heat of the action, falls on in
the king's rear, and turned the scale of the day. The body was, after
an obstinate fight, defeated, and a great many gentlemen of quality
killed and taken prisoners. The Earl of Lichfield was of the number of
the former, and sixty-seven officers of the latter, with 1000 others.
The king, with about 500 horse, got into Chester, and from thence into
Wales, whither all that could get away made up to him as fast as they
could, but in a bad condition.

This was the last stroke they struck; the rest of the war was nothing
but taking all his garrisons from him one by one, till they finished
the war with the captivating his person, and then, for want of other
business, fell to fighting with one another.

I was quite disconsolate at the news of this last action, and the
more because I was not there. My regiment wholly dispersed, my
lieutenant-colonel, a gentleman of a good family, and a near relation
to my mother, was prisoner, my major and three captains killed, and
most of the rest prisoners.

The king, hopeless of any considerable party in Wales, Bristol being
surrendered, sends for Prince Rupert and Prince Maurice, who came
to him. With them, and the Lord Digby, Sir Marmaduke Langdale, and a
great train of gentlemen, his Majesty marches to Newark again, leaves
1000 horse with Sir William Vaughan to attempt the relief of Chester,
in doing whereof he was routed the second time by Jones and his men,
and entirely dispersed.

The chief strength the king had in these parts was at Newark, and the
Parliament were very earnest with the Scots to march southward and to
lay siege to Newark; and while the Parliament pressed them to it, and
they sat still and delayed it, several heats began, and some ill blood
between them, which afterwards broke out into open war. The English
reproached the Scots with pretending to help them, and really
hindering their affairs. The Scots returned that they came to fight
for them, and are left to be starved, and can neither get money nor
clothes. At last they came to this, the Scots will come to the siege
if the Parliament will send them money, but not before. However, as
people sooner agree in doing ill than in doing well, they came to
terms, and the Scots came with their whole army to the siege of
Newark.

The king, foreseeing the siege, calls his friends about him, tells
them he sees his circumstances are such that they can help him but
little, nor he protect them, and advises them to separate. The Lord
Digby, with Sir Marmaduke Langdale, with a strong body of horse,
attempt to get into Scotland to join with Montrose, who was still in
the Highlands, though reduced to a low ebb, but these gentlemen are
fallen upon on every side and routed, and at last, being totally
broken and dispersed, they fly to the Earl of Derby's protection in
the Isle of Man.

Prince Rupert, Prince Maurice, Colonel Gerard, and above 400
gentlemen, all officers of horse, lay their commissions down, and
seizing upon Wootton House for a retreat, make proposals to the
Parliament to leave the kingdom, upon their parole not to return again
in arms against the Parliament, which was accepted, though afterwards
the prince declined it. I sent my man post to the prince to be
included in this treaty, and for leave for all that would accept of
like conditions, but they had given in the list of their names, and
could not alter it.

This was a sad time. The poor remains of the king's fortunes went
everywhere to wreck. Every garrison of the enemy was full of the
Cavalier prisoners, and every garrison the king had was beset with
enemies, either blocked up or besieged. Goring and the Lord Hopton
were the only remainders of the king's forces which kept in a body,
and Fairfax was pushing them with all imaginable vigour with his whole
army about Exeter and other parts of Devonshire and Cornwall.

In this condition the king left Newark in the night, and got to
Oxford. The king had in Oxford 8000 men, and the towns of Banbury,
Farringdon, Donnington Castle, and such places as might have been
brought together in twenty-four hours, 15,000 or 20,000 men, with
which, if he had then resolved to have quitted the place,
and collected the forces in Worcester, Hereford, Lichfield,
Ashby-de-la-Zouch, and all the small castles and garrisons he had
thereabouts, he might have had near 40,000 men, might have beaten
the Scots from Newark, Colonel Jones from Chester, and all, before
Fairfax, who was in the west, could be able to come to their relief.
And this his Majesty's friends in North Wales had concerted; and, in
order to it, Sir Jacob Ashby gathered what forces he could, in our
parts, and attempted to join the king at Oxford, and to have proposed
it to him; but Sir Jacob was entirely routed at Stow-on-the-Wold, and
taken prisoner, and of 3000 men not above 600 came to Oxford.

All the king's garrisons dropped one by one; Hereford, which had stood
out against the whole army of the Scots, was surprised by six men and
a lieutenant dressed up for country labourers, and a constable pressed
to work, who cut the guards in pieces, and let in a party of the
enemy. Chester was reduced by famine, all the attempts the king made
to relieve it being frustrated.

Sir Thomas Fairfax routed the Lord Hopton at Torrington, and drove him
to such extremities, that he was forced up into the farthest corner of
Cornwall. The Lord Hopton had a gallant body of horse with him of nine
brigades, but no foot; Fairfax, a great army.

Heartless, and tired out with continual ill news, and ill success,
I had frequent meetings with some gentlemen who had escaped from
the rout of Sir William Vaughan, and we agreed upon a meeting at
Worcester, of all the friends we could get, to see if we could raise
a body fit to do any service; or, if not, to consider what was to be
done. At this meeting we had almost as many opinions as people; our
strength appeared too weak to make any attempt, the game was too far
gone in our parts to be retrieved; all we could make up did not amount
to above 800 horse.

'Twas unanimously agreed not to go into the Parliament as long as our
royal master did not give up the cause; but in all places, and by all
possible methods, to do him all the service we could. Some proposed
one thing, some another; at last we proposed getting vessels to carry
us to the Isle of Man to the Earl of Derby, as Sir Marmaduke Langdale,
Lord Digby, and others had done. I did not foresee any service
it would be to the king's affairs, but I started a proposal that,
marching to Pembroke in a body, we should there seize upon all the
vessels we could, and embarking ourselves, horses, and what foot
we could get, cross the Severn Sea, and land in Cornwall to the
assistance of Prince Charles, who was in the army of the Lord Hopton,
and where only there seemed to be any possibility of a chance for the
remaining part of our cause.

This proposal was not without its difficulties, as how to get to the
seaside, and, when there, what assurance of shipping. The enemy, under
Major-General Langhorn, had overrun Wales, and 'twould be next to
impossible to effect it.

We could never carry our proposal with the whole assembly; but,
however, about 200 of us resolved to attempt it, and [the] meeting
being broken up without coming to any conclusion, we had a private
meeting among ourselves to effect it.

We despatched private messengers to Swansea and Pembroke, and other
places; but they all discouraged us from the attempt that way, and
advised us to go higher towards North Wales, where the king's interest
had more friends, and the Parliament no forces. Upon this we met, and
resolved, and having sent several messengers that way, one of my men
provided us two small vessels in a little creek near Harlech Castle,
in Merionethshire. We marched away with what expedition we could, and
embarked in the two vessels accordingly. It was the worst voyage sure
that ever man went; for first we had no manner of accommodation for so
many people, hay for our horses we got none, or very little, but good
store of oats, which served us for our own bread as well as provender
for the horses.

In this condition we put off to sea, and had a fair wind all the first
night, but early in the morning a sudden storm drove us within two or
three leagues of Ireland. In this pickle, sea-sick, our horses rolling
about upon one another, and ourselves stifled for want of room, no
cabins nor beds, very cold weather, and very indifferent diet, we
wished ourselves ashore again a thousand times; and yet we were not
willing to go ashore in Ireland if we could help it; for the rebels
having possession of every place, that was just having our throats cut
at once. Having rolled about at the mercy of the winds all day, the
storm ceasing in the evening, we had fair weather again, but wind
enough, which being large, in two days and a night we came upon the
coast of Cornwall, and, to our no small comfort, landed the next day
at St Ives, in the county of Cornwall.

We rested ourselves here, and sent an express to the Lord Hopton, who
was then in Devonshire, of our arrival, and desired him to assign us
quarters, and send us his farther orders. His lordship expressed a
very great satisfaction at our arrival, and left it to our own conduct
to join him as we saw convenient.

We were marching to join him, when news came that Fairfax had given
him an entire defeat at Torrington. This was but the old story over
again. We had been used to ill news a great while, and 'twas the less
surprise to us.

Upon this news we halted at Bodmin, till we should hear farther; and
it was not long before we saw a confirmation of the news before our
eyes, for the Lord Hopton, with the remainder of his horse, which he
had brought off at Torrington in a very shattered condition, retreated
to Launceston, the first town in Cornwall, and hearing that Fairfax
pursued him, came on to Bodmin. Hither he summoned all the troops
which he had left, which, when he had got together, were a fine
body indeed of 5000 horse, but few foot but what were at Pendennis,
Barnstaple, and other garrisons. These were commanded by the Lord
Hopton. The Lord Goring had taken shipping for France to get relief a
few days before.

Here a grand council of war was called, and several things were
proposed, but as it always is in distress, people are most irresolute,
so 'twas here. Some were for breaking through by force, our number
being superior to the enemy's horse. To fight them with their foot
would be desperation and ridiculous; and to retreat would but be
to coop up themselves in a narrow place, where at last they must be
forced to fight upon disadvantage, or yield at mercy. Others opposed
this as a desperate action, and without probability of success, and
all were of different opinions. I confess, when I saw how things
were, I saw 'twas a lost game, and I was for the opinion of breaking
through, and doing it now, while the country was open and large, and
not being forced to it when it must be with more disadvantage. But
nothing was resolved on, and so we retreated before the enemy. Some
small skirmishes there happened near Bodmin, but none that were very
considerable.

'Twas the 1st of March when we quitted Bodmin, and quartered at large
at Columb, St Dennis, and Truro, and the enemy took his quarters at
Bodmin, posting his horse at the passes from Padstow on the north, to
Wadebridge, Lostwithiel, and Fowey, spreading so from sea to sea,
that now breaking through was impossible. There was no more room for
counsel; for unless we had ships to carry us off, we had nothing to do
but when we were fallen upon, to defend ourselves, and sell victory as
dear as we could to the enemies.

The Prince of Wales seeing the distress we were in, and loth to
fall into the enemy's hands, ships himself on board some vessels at
Falmouth, with about 400 lords and gentlemen. And as I had no command
here to oblige my attendance, I was once going to make one, but my
comrades, whom I had been the principal occasion of bringing hither,
began to take it ill, that I would leave them, and so I resolved we
would take our fate together.

While thus we had nothing before us but a soldier's death, a fair
field, and a strong enemy, and people began to look one upon another,
the soldiers asked how their officers looked, and the officers asked
how their soldiers looked, and every day we expected to be our last,
when unexpectedly the enemy's general sent a trumpet to Truro to my
Lord Hopton, with a very handsome gentlemanlike offer:--

That since the general could not be ignorant of his present condition,
and that the place he was in could not afford him subsistence or
defence; and especially considering that the state of our affairs were
such, that if we should escape from thence we could not remove to
our advantage, he had thought good to let us know, that if we would
deliver up our horses and arms, he would, for avoiding the effusion of
Christian blood, or the putting any unsoldierly extremities upon us,
allow such honourable and safe conditions, as were rather better than
our present circumstances could demand, and such as should discharge
him to all the world, as a gentleman, as a soldier, and as a
Christian.

After this followed the conditions he would give us, which were as
follows, viz.:--That all the soldiery, as well English as foreigners,
should have liberty to go beyond the seas, or to their own dwellings,
as they pleased; and to such as shall choose to live at home,
protection for their liberty, and from all violence and plundering
of soldiers, and to give them bag and baggage, and all their goods,
except horses and arms.

That for officers in commissions, and gentlemen of quality, he would
allow them horses for themselves and one servant, or more, suitable
to their quality, and such arms as are suitable to gentlemen of such
quality travelling in times of peace; and such officers as would go
beyond sea, should take with them their full arms and number of horses
as are allowed in the army to such officers.

That all the troopers shall receive on the delivery of their
horses, 20s. a man to carry them home; and the general's pass and
recommendation to any gentleman who desires to go to the Parliament to
settle the composition for their estates.

Lastly, a very honourable mention of the general, and offer of their
mediation to the Parliament, to treat him as a man of honour, and one
who has been tender of the country, and behaved himself with all the
moderation and candour that could be expected from an enemy.

Upon the unexpected receipt of this message, a council of war was
called, and the letter read; no man offered to speak a word; the
general moved it, but every one was loth to begin.

At last an old colonel starts up, and asked the general what he
thought might occasion the writing this letter? The general told him,
he could not tell; but he could tell, he was sure, of one thing, that
he knew what was not the occasion of it, viz., that is, not any want
of force in their army to oblige us to other terms. Then a doubt was
started, whether the king and Parliament were not in any treaty, which
this agreement might be prejudicial to.

This occasioned a letter to my Lord Fairfax, wherein our general
returning the civilities, and neither accepting nor refusing his
proposal, put it upon his honour, whether there was not some agreement
or concession between his Majesty and the Parliament, in order to a
general peace, which this treaty might be prejudicial to, or thereby
be prejudicial to us.

The Lord Fairfax ingenuously declared, he had heard the king had made
some concessions, and he heartily wished he would make such as would
settle the kingdom in peace, that Englishmen might not wound and
destroy one another; but that he declared he knew of no treaty
commenced, nor anything passed which could give us the least shadow
of hope for any advantage in not accepting his conditions; at last
telling us, that though he did not insult over our circumstances, yet
if we thought fit, upon any such supposition, to refuse his offers, he
was not to seek in his measures.

And it appeared so, for he immediately advanced his forlorns, and
dispossessed us of two advanced quarters, and thereby straitened us
yet more.

We had now nothing to say, but treat, and our general was so sensible
of our condition, that he returned the trumpet with a safe-conduct for
commissioners at twelve o'clock that night; upon which a cessation of
arms was agreed on, we quitting Truro to the Lord Fairfax, and he left
St Allen to us to keep our headquarters.

The conditions were soon agreed on; we disbanded nine full brigades of
horse, and all the conditions were observed with the most honour and
care by the enemy that ever I saw in my life.

Nor can I omit to make very honourable mention of this noble
gentleman, though I did not like his cause; but I never saw a man of
a more pleasant, calm, courteous, downright, honest behaviour in my
life; and for his courage and personal bravery in the field, that we
had felt enough of. No man in the world had more fire and fury in him
while in action, or more temper and softness out of it. In short, and
I cannot do him greater honour, he exceedingly came near the character
of my foreign hero, Gustavus Adolphus, and in my account is, of all
the soldiers in Europe, the fittest to be reckoned in the second place
of honour to him.

I had particular occasion to see much of his temper in all this
action, being one of the hostages given by our general for the
performance of the conditions, in which circumstance the general did
me several times the honour to send to me to dine with him; and was
exceedingly pleased to discourse with me about the passages of the
wars in Germany, which I had served in, he having been at the same
time in the Low Countries in the service of Prince Maurice; but I
observed if at any time my civilities extended to commendations of his
own actions, and especially to comparing him to Gustavus Adolphus, he
would blush like a woman, and be uneasy, declining the discourse, and
in this he was still more like him.

Let no man scruple my honourable mention of this noble enemy, since
no man can suspect me of favouring the cause he embarked in, which
I served as heartily against as any man in the army; but I cannot
conceal extraordinary merit for its being placed in an enemy.

This was the end of our making war, for now we were all under parole
never to bear arms against the Parliament; and though some of us did
not keep our word, yet I think a soldier's parole ought to be the most
sacred in such case, that a soldier may be the easier trusted at all
times upon his word. For my part, I went home fully contented, since
I could do my royal master no better service, that I had come off no
worse.

The enemy going now on in a full current of success, and the king
reduced to the last extremity, and Fairfax, by long marches, being
come back within five miles of Oxford, his Majesty, loth to be cooped
up in a town which could on no account hold long out, quits the town
in a disguise, leaving Sir Thomas Clemham governor, and being only
attended with Mr Ashburnham and one more, rides away to Newark, and
there fatally committed himself to the honour and fidelity of the
Scots under General Leven.

There had been some little bickering between the Parliament and the
Scots commissioners concerning the propositions which the Scots were
for a treaty with the king upon, and the Parliament refused it. The
Parliament, upon all proposals of peace, had formerly invited the king
to come and throw himself upon the honour, fidelity, and affection of
his Parliament. And now the king from Oxford offering to come up
to London on the protection of the Parliament for the safety of his
person, they refused him, and the Scots differed from them in it, and
were for a personal treaty.

This, in our opinion, was the reason which prompted the king to throw
himself upon the fidelity of the Scots, who really by their infidelity
had been the ruin of all his affairs, and now, by their perfidious
breach of honour and faith with him, will be virtually and mediately
the ruin of his person.

The Scots were, as all the nation besides them was, surprised at the
king's coming among them; the Parliament began very high with them,
and send an order to General Leven to send the king to Warwick Castle;
but he was not so hasty to part with so rich a prize. As soon as the
king came to the general, he signs an order to Colonel Bellasis, the
governor of Newark, to surrender it, and immediately the Scots decamp
homewards, carrying the king in the camp with them, and marching on, a
house was ordered to be provided for the king at Newcastle.

And now the Parliament saw their error, in refusing his Majesty a
personal treaty, which, if they had accepted (their army was not yet
taught the way of huffing their masters), the kingdom might have been
settled in peace. Upon this the Parliament send to General Leven to
have his Majesty not be sent, which was their first language, but be
suffered to come to London to treat with his Parliament; before it
was, "Let the king be sent to Warwick Castle"; now 'tis, "To let his
Majesty come to London to treat with his people."

But neither one or the other would do with the Scots; but we who knew
the Scots best knew that there was one thing would do with them, if
the other would not, and that was money; and therefore our hearts
ached for the king.

The Scots, as I said, had retreated to Newcastle with the king, and
there they quartered their whole army at large upon the country;
the Parliament voted they had no farther occasion for the Scots, and
desired them to go home about their business. I do not say it was
in these words, but in whatsoever good words their messages might
be expressed, this and nothing less was the English of it. The Scots
reply, by setting forth their losses, damages, and dues, the substance
of which was, "Pay us our money and we will be gone, or else we won't
stir." The Parliament call for an account of their demands, which the
Scots give in, amounting to a million; but, according to their custom,
and especially finding that the army under Fairfax inclined gradually
that way, fall down to £500,000, and at last to £400,000; but all the
while this is transacting a separate treaty is carried on at London
with the commissioners of Scotland, and afterwards at Edinburgh, by
which it is given them to understand that, whereas upon payment of the
money, the Scots army is to march out of England, and to give up all
the towns and garrisons which they hold in this kingdom, so they are
to take it for granted that 'tis the meaning of the treaty that they
shall leave the king in the hands of the English Parliament.

To make this go down the better, the Scotch Parliament, upon his
Majesty's desire to go with their army into Scotland, send him for
answer, that it cannot be for the safety of his Majesty or of the
State to come into Scotland, not having taken the Covenant, and this
was carried in their Parliament but by two voices.

The Scots having refused his coming into Scotland, as was concerted
between the two Houses, and their army being to march out of
England, the delivering up the king became a consequence of the
thing--unavoidable, and of necessity.

His Majesty, thus deserted of those into whose hands he had thrown
himself, took his leave of the Scots general at Newcastle, telling him
only, in few words, this sad truth, that he was bought and sold. The
Parliament commissioners received him at Newcastle from the Scots, and
brought him to Holmby House, in Northamptonshire; from whence, upon
the quarrels and feuds of parties, he was fetched by a party of horse,
commanded by one Cornet Joyce, from the army, upon their mutinous
rendezvous at Triplow Heath; and, after this, suffering many violences
and varieties of circumstances among the army, was carried to Hampton
Court, from whence his Majesty very readily made his escape; but not
having notice enough to provide effectual means for his more effectual
deliverance, was obliged to deliver himself to Colonel Hammond in the
Isle of Wight. Here, after some very indifferent usage, the Parliament
pursued a farther treaty with him, and all points were agreed but
two: the entire abolishing Episcopacy, which the king declared to be
against his conscience and his coronation oath; and the sale of the
Church lands, which he declared, being most of them gifts to God and
the Church, by persons deceased, his Majesty thought could not be
alienated without the highest sacrilege, and if taken from the uses
to which they were appointed by the wills of the donors, ought to be
restored back to the heirs and families of the persons who bequeathed
them.

And these two articles so stuck with his Majesty, that he ventured
his fortune, and royal family, and his own life for them. However, at
last, the king condescended so far in these, that the Parliament voted
his Majesty's concessions to be sufficient to settle and establish the
peace of the nation.

This vote discovered the bottom of all the counsels which then
prevailed; for the army, who knew if peace were once settled, they
should be undone, took the alarm at this, and clubbing together in
committees and councils, at last brought themselves to a degree
of hardness above all that ever this nation saw; for calling into
question the proceedings of their masters who employed them, they
immediately fall to work upon the Parliament, remove Colonel Hammond,
who had the charge of the king, and used him honourably, place a
new guard upon him, dismiss the commissioners, and put a stop to the
treaty; and, following their blow, march to London, place regiments of
foot at the Parliament-house door, and, as the members came up,
seize upon all those whom they had down in a list as promoters of the
settlement and treaty, and would not suffer them to sit; but the rest
who, being of their own stamp, are permitted to go on, carry on the
designs of the army, revive their votes of non-addresses to the
king, and then, upon the army's petition to bring all delinquents to
justice, the mask was thrown off, the word all is declared to be
meant the king, as well as every man else they pleased. 'Tis too sad
a story, and too much a matter of grief to me, and to all good men, to
renew the blackness of those days, when law and justice was under the
feet of power; the army ruled the Parliament, the private officers
their generals, the common soldiers their officers, and confusion was
in every part of the government. In this hurry they sacrificed their
king, and shed the blood of the English nobility without mercy.

The history of the times will supply the particulars which I omit,
being willing to confine myself to my own accounts and observations.
I was now no more an actor, but a melancholy observator of the
misfortunes of the times. I had given my parole not to take up arms
against the Parliament, and I saw nothing to invite me to engage on
their side. I saw a world of confusion in all their counsels, and I
always expected that in a chain of distractions, as it generally falls
out, the last link would be destruction; and though I pretended to no
prophecy, yet the progress of affairs have brought it to pass, and I
have seen Providence, who suffered, for the correction of this nation,
the sword to govern and devour us, has at last brought destruction by
the sword upon the head of most of the party who first drew it.

       *       *       *       *       *

If together with the brief account of what concern I had in the
active part of the war, I leave behind me some of my own remarks
and observations, it may be pertinent enough to my design, and not
unuseful to posterity.

1. I observed by the sequel of things that it may be some excuse to
the first Parliament, who began this war, to say that they manifested
their designs were not aimed at the monarchy, nor their quarrel at
the person of the king; because, when they had in their power, though
against his will, they would have restored both his person and dignity
as a king, only loading it with such clogs of the people's power as
they at first pretended to, viz., the militia, and power of naming
the great officers at court, and the like; which powers, it was never
denied, had been stretched too far in the beginning of this king's
reign, and several things done illegally, which his Majesty had been
sensible of, and was willing to rectify; but they having obtained the
power by victory, resolved so to secure themselves, as that, whenever
they laid down their arms, the king should not be able to do the like
again. And thus far they were not to be so much blamed, and we did
not on our own part blame them, when they had obtained the power, for
parting with it on good terms.

But when I have thus far advocated for the enemies, I must be very
free to state the crimes of this bloody war by the events of it. 'Tis
manifest there were among them from the beginning a party who aimed
at the very root of the government, and at the very thing which they
brought to pass, viz., the deposing and murdering of their sovereign;
and, as the devil is always master where mischief is the work, this
party prevailed, turned the other out of doors, and overturned all
that little honesty that might be in the first beginning of this
unhappy strife.

The consequence of this was, the Presbyterians saw their error when
it was too late, and then would gladly have joined the royal party to
have suppressed this new leaven which had infected the lump; and this
is very remarkable, that most of the first champions of this war who
bore the brunt of it, when the king was powerful and prosperous, and
when there was nothing to be got by it but blows, first or last, were
so ill used by this independent, powerful party, who tripped up
the heels of all their honesty, that they were either forced by ill
treatment to take up arms on our side, or suppressed and reduced by
them. In this the justice of Providence seemed very conspicuous, that
these having pushed all things by violence against the king, and by
arms and force brought him to their will, were at once both robbed
of the end, their Church government, and punished for drawing their
swords against their masters, by their own servants drawing the sword
against them; and God, in His due time, punished the others too. And
what was yet farther strange, the punishment of this crime of making
war against their king, singled out those very men, both in the
army and in the Parliament, who were the greatest champions of the
Presbyterian cause in the council and in the field. Some minutes, too,
of circumstances I cannot forbear observing, though they are not very
material, as to the fatality and revolutions of days and times. A
Roman Catholic gentleman of Lancashire, a very religious man in his
way, who had kept a calculate of times, and had observed mightily the
fatality of times, places, and actions, being at my father's house,
was discoursing once upon the just judgment of God in dating His
providences, so as to signify to us His displeasure at particular
circumstances; and, among an infinite number of collections he had
made, these were some which I took particular notice of, and from
whence I began to observe the like:--

1. That King Edward VI. died the very same day of the same month
in which he caused the altar to be taken down, and the image of the
Blessed Virgin in the Cathedral of St Paul's.

2. That Cranmer was burnt at Oxford the same day and month that he
gave King Henry VIII. advice to divorce his Queen Catherine.

3. That Queen Elizabeth died the same day and month that she resolved,
in her Privy Council, to behead the Queen of Scots.

4. That King James died the same day that he published his book
against Bellarmine.

5. That King Charles's long Parliament, which ruined him, began the
very same day and month which that Parliament began, that at the
request of his predecessor robbed the Roman Church of all her
revenues, and suppressed abbeys and monasteries.

How just his calculations were, or how true the matter of fact,
I cannot tell, but it put me upon the same in several actions and
successes of this war. And I found a great many circumstances, as to
time or action, which befell both his Majesty and his parties first;

Then others which befell the Parliament and Presbyterian faction,
which raised the war;

Then the Independent tyranny which succeeded and supplanted the first
party;

Then the Scots who acted on both sides;

Lastly, the restoration and re-establishment of the loyalty and
religion of our ancestors.

1. For King Charles I.; 'tis observable, that the charge against the
Earl of Strafford, a thing which his Majesty blamed himself for all
the days of his life, and at the moment of his last suffering, was
first read in the Lords' House on the 30th of January, the same day of
the month six years that the king himself was brought to the block.

2. That the king was carried away prisoner from Newark, by the Scots,
May 10, the same day six years that, against his conscience and
promise, he passed the bill of attainder against the loyal, noble Earl
of Strafford.

3. The same day seven years that the king entered the House of Commons
for the five members, which all his friends blamed him for, the same
day the Rump voted bringing his Majesty to trial, after they had set
by the Lords for not agreeing to it, which was the 3rd of January
1648.

4. The 12th of May 1646, being the surrender of Newark, the Parliament
held a day of thanksgiving and rejoicing, for the reduction of the
king and his party, and finishing the war, which was the same day five
years that the Earl of Strafford was beheaded.

5. The battle at Naseby, which ruined the king's affairs, and where
his secretary and his office was taken, was the 14th of June, the same
day and month the first commission was given out by his Majesty to
raise forces.

6. The queen voted a traitor by the Parliament the 3rd of May, the
same day and month she carried the jewels into France.

7. The same day the king defeated Essex in the west, his son, King
Charles II., was defeated at Worcester.

8. Archbishop Laud's house at Lambeth assaulted by the mob, the same
day of the same month that he advised the king to make war upon the
Scots.

9. Impeached the 15th of December 1640, the same day twelvemonth that
he ordered the Common Prayer-book of Scotland to be printed, in order
to be imposed upon the Scots, from which all our troubles began.

But many more, and more strange, are the critical junctures of affairs
in the case of the enemy, or at least more observed by me:--

1. Sir John Hotham, who repulsed his Majesty and refused him
admittance into Hull before the war, was seized at Hull by the same
Parliament for whom he had done it, the same 10th day of August two
years that he drew the first blood in that war.

2. Hampden of Buckinghamshire killed the same day one year that the
mob petition from Bucks was presented to the king about him, as one of
the five members.

3. Young Captain Hotham executed the 1st of January, the same day that
he assisted Sir Thomas Fairfax in the first skirmish with the king's
forces at Bramham Moor.

4. The same day and month, being the 6th of August 1641, that the
Parliament voted to raise an army against the king, the same day and
month, _anno_ 1648, the Parliament were assaulted and turned out of
doors by that very army, and none left to sit but who the soldiers
pleased, which were therefore called the Rump.

5. The Earl of Holland deserted the king, who had made him general of
the horse, and went over to the Parliament, and the 9th of March
1641, carried the Commons' reproaching declaration to the king; and
afterwards taking up arms for the king against the Parliament, was
beheaded by them the 9th of March 1648, just seven years after.

6. The Earl of Holland was sent by the king to come to his assistance
and refused, the 11th of July 1641, and that very day seven years
after was taken by the Parliament at St Neots.

7. Colonel Massey defended Gloucester against the king, and beat
him off the 5th of September 1643; was taken after by Cromwell's men
fighting for the king, on the 5th of September 1651, two or three days
after the fight at Worcester.

8. Richard Cromwell resigning, because he could not help it, the
Parliament voted a free Commonwealth, without a single person or House
of Lords. This was the 25th of May 1658; the 25th of May 1660, the
king landed at Dover, and restored the government of a single person
and House of Lords.

9. Lambert was proclaimed a traitor by the Parliament April the 20th,
being the same day he proposed to Oliver Cromwell to take upon him the
title of king.

10. Monk being taken prisoner at Nantwich by Sir Thomas Fairfax,
revolted to the Parliament the same day nineteen years he declared for
the king, and thereby restored the royal authority.

11. The Parliament voted to approve of Sir John Hotham's repulsing
the king at Hull, the 28th of April 1642; the 28th of April 1660, the
Parliament first debated in the House the restoring the king to the
crown.

12. The agitators of the army formed themselves into a cabal, and held
their first meeting to seize on the king's person, and take him into
their custody from Holmby, the 28th of April 1647; the same day,
1660, the Parliament voted the agitators to be taken into custody, and
committed as many of them as could be found.

13. The Parliament voted the queen a traitor for assisting her
husband, the king, May the 3rd, 1643; her son, King Charles II., was
presented with the votes of Parliament to restore him, and the present
of £50,000, the 3rd of May 1660.

14. The same day the Parliament passed the Act for recognition of
Oliver Cromwell, October 13th, 1654, Lambert broke up the Parliament
and set up the army, 1659, October the 13th.

Some other observations I have made, which, as not so pertinent, I
forbear to publish, among which I have noted the fatality of some days
to parties, as--

The 2nd of September: The fight at Dunbar; the fight at Worcester; the
oath against a single person passed; Oliver's first Parliament called.
For the enemy.

The 2nd of September: Essex defeated in Cornwall; Oliver died; city
works demolished. For the king.

The 29th of May: Prince Charles born; Leicester taken by storm; King
Charles II. restored. Ditto.

Fatality of circumstances in this unhappy war, as--

1. The English Parliament call in the Scots, to invade their king, and
are invaded themselves by the same Scots, in defence of the king whose
case, and the design of the Parliament, the Scots had mistaken.

2. The Scots, who unjustly assisted the Parliament to conquer their
lawful sovereign, contrary to their oath of allegiance, and without
any pretence on the king's part, are afterwards absolutely conquered
and subdued by the same Parliament they assisted.

3. The Parliament, who raised an army to depose their king, deposed by
the very army they had raised.

4. The army broke three Parliaments, and are at last broke by a free
Parliament; and all they had done by the military power, undone at
once by the civil.

5. Abundance of the chief men, who by their fiery spirits involved the
nation in a civil war, and took up arms against their prince, first or
last met with ruin or disgrace from their own party.

(1.) Sir John Hotham and his son, who struck the first stroke, both
beheaded or hanged by the Parliament.

(2.) Major-General Massey three times taken prisoner by them, and once
wounded at Worcester.

(3.) Major-General Langhorn, (4.) Colonel Poyer, and (5.) Colonel
Powell, changed sides, and at last taken, could obtain no other favour
than to draw lots for their lives; Colonel Poyer drew the dead lot,
and was shot to death.

(6.) Earl of Holland: who, when the House voted who should be
reprieved, Lord Goring, who had been their worst enemy, or the Earl of
Holland, who excepting one offence, had been their constant servant,
voted Goring to be spared, and the Earl to die.

(7.) The Earl of Essex, their first general;

(8.) Sir William Waller;

(9.) Lieutenant-General Ludlow;

(10.) The Earl of Manchester;

--all disgusted and voted out of the army, though they had stood the
first shock of the war, to make way for the new model of the army, and
introduce a party.

       *       *       *       *       *

In all these confusions I have observed two great errors, one of the
king, and one of his friends.

Of the king, that when he was in their custody, and at their mercy,
he did not comply with their propositions of peace, before their army,
for want of employment, fell into heats and mutinies; that he did not
at first grant the Scots their own conditions, which, if he had done,
he had gone into Scotland; and then, if the English would have fought
the Scots for him, he had a reserve of his loyal friends, who would
have had room to have fallen in with the Scots to his assistance,
who were after dispersed and destroyed in small parties attempting to
serve him.

While his Majesty remained at Newcastle, the queen wrote to him,
persuading him to make peace upon any terms; and in politics her
Majesty's advice was certainly the best. For, however low he was
brought by a peace, it must have been better than the condition he was
then in.

The error I mention of the king's friends was this, that after they
saw all was lost, they could not be content to sit still, and reserve
themselves for better fortunes, and wait the happy time when the
divisions of the enemy would bring them to certain ruin; but must
hasten their own miseries by frequent fruitless risings, in the face
of a victorious enemy, in small parties; and I always found these
effects from it:--

1. The enemy, who were always together by the ears, when they were let
alone, were united and reconciled when we gave them any interruption;
as particularly, in the case of the first assault the army made upon
them, when Colonel Pride, with his regiment, garbled the House, as
they called it. At that time a fair opportunity offered; but it was
omitted till it was too late. That insult upon the House had been
attempted the year before, but was hindered by the little insurrection
of the royal party, and the sooner they had fallen out, the better.

2. These risings being desperate, with vast disadvantages, and always
suppressed, ruined all our friends; the remnants of the Cavaliers were
lessened, the stoutest and most daring were cut off, and the king's
interest exceedingly weakened, there not being less than 30,000 of
his best friends cut off in the several attempts made at Maidstone,
Colchester, Lancashire, Pembroke, Pontefract, Kingston, Preston,
Warrington, Worcester, and other places. Had these men all reserved
their fortunes to a conjunction with the Scots, at either of the
invasions they made into this kingdom, and acted with the conduct and
courage they were known masters of, perhaps neither of those Scots
armies had been defeated.

But the impatience of our friends ruined all; for my part, I had as
good a mind to put my hand to the ruin of the enemy as any of them,
but I never saw any tolerable appearance of a force able to match the
enemy, and I had no mind to be beaten and then hanged. Had we let them
alone, they would have fallen into so many parties and factions, and
so effectually have torn one another to pieces, that whichsoever party
had come to us, we should, with them, have been too hard for all the
rest.

This was plain by the course of things afterwards; when the
Independent army had ruffled the Presbyterian Parliament, the soldiery
of that party made no scruple to join us, and would have restored the
king with all their hearts, and many of them did join us at last.

And the consequence, though late, ended so; for they fell out so
many times, army and Parliament, Parliament and army, and alternately
pulled one another down so often till at last the Presbyterians who
began the war, ended it, and, to be rid of their enemies, rather than
for any love to the monarchy, restored King Charles the Second, and
brought him in on the very day that they themselves had formerly
resolved the ruin of his father's government, being the 29th of May,
the same day twenty years that the private cabal in London concluded
their secret league with the Scots, to embroil his father King Charles
the First.


[Footnote 1: General Ludlow, in his Memoirs, p. 52, says their men
returned from Warwick to London, not like men who had obtained a
victory, but like men that had been beaten.]



NOTES.


p. 1. The preface to the first edition, which appeared in 1720, was
written by Defoe as "Editor" of the manuscript. The second edition
appeared between 1740 and 1750, after the death of Defoe. (He was
probably born in 1671 and he died in 1731.) In the preface to that
edition it was argued that the Cavalier was certainly a real person.

p. 2, l. 35. "Nicely" is here used in the stricter and more uncommon
sense of "minutely." This use of words in a slightly different sense
from their common modern significance will be noticed frequently;
cf. p. 8, l. 17 "passionately," p. 18, l. 40 "refined," p. 31, l. 18
"particular."

p. 3, l. 3. Charles XII the famous soldier king of Sweden died in 1718.

p. 3, l. 31. Edward Hyde, Earl of Clarendon, was one of the staunchest
supporters of Charles I, and Chancellor under Charles II. His _History
of the Rebellion_ is naturally written from the Royalist standpoint.
This statement concerning "the editors" can only be intended by Defoe
to give colour of truth to his story of the manuscript.

p. 10, l. 17. England had been nominally at war with Spain since the
beginning of the reign of Charles I. Peace was actually made in 1630.

p. 12, l. 3. A pistole was a gold coin used chiefly in France and
Spain. Its value varied but it was generally worth about fifteen or
sixteen shillings.

p. 14, l. 5. Cardinal Richelieu, one of the greatest statesmen of
the seventeenth century, was practically supreme in France during the
reign of Louis XIII.

p. 14, l. 16. The cause of the war with Savoy is told at length on
page 23. Savoy being the frontier province between France and Italy it
was important that France should maintain her influence there.

p. 14, l. 18. Pinerolo was a frontier fortress.

p. 14, l. 36. The queen-mother was Mary de Medicis who had been regent
during the minority of Louis XIII.

p. 15, l. 3. The Protestants or Huguenots of Southern France had been
tolerated since 1598 but Richelieu deprived them of many of their
privileges.

p. 15, l. 21. In 1625 when England was in alliance with France English
ships had been joined with the French fleet to reduce la Rochelle, the
great stronghold of Protestantism in Southern France.

p. 16, l. 7. The Louvre, now famous as a picture gallery and museum,
was formerly one of the palaces of the French Kings.

p. 17, l. 16. The Bastille was the famous prison destroyed in 1789 at
the outbreak of the French Revolution.

p. 18, l. 13. In the seventeenth century Italy was still divided into
several states each with its own prince.

p. 18, l. 22. Susa was another Savoyard fortress.

p. 19, l. 17. A halberd was a weapon consisting of a long wooden shaft
surmounted by an axe-like head.

p. 21, l. 30. The Cantons were the political divisions of Switzerland.

p. 23, l. 7. Casale, a strong town on the Po.

p. 25, l. 14. A dragoon was a cavalry soldier armed with an infantry
firearm and trained to fight on foot as well as on horseback.

p. 27, l. 25. Saluzzo a town S.E. of Pinerolo.

p. 29, l. 12. This truce prepared for the definite "Peace of
Cherasco," April 1631, which confirmed the Duchy of Mantua to the Duke
of Nevers but left only Pinerolo in the hands of the French.

p. 31, l. 12. This refers to the Treaty of Bärwalde, 1631, by which
Gustavus Adolphus promised to consider the interests of the French
(who were the natural enemies of the Empire).

p. 31, l. 16. In 1628 the Duke of Pomerania had been obliged to put
his coast line under the care of the imperial troops. In attacking it
therefore in 1639 Gustavus Adolphus was aiming a blow at the Emperor
and obtaining a good basis for further conquests.

p. 31, l. 25. _Gazette_ is the old name for _newspaper_.

p. 33, l. 12. Bavaria was the chief Catholic State not under the
direct government of the Emperor. Maximilian, its elector, was
appointed head of the Catholic League which was formed in 1609 in
opposition to the Protestant Union which had been formed in 1608.

p. 33, l. 20. By the end of the sixteenth century the Turks had
advanced far into Europe, had detached half of Hungary from the
Emperor's dominions and made him pay tribute for the other half.
During the seventeenth century, however, they were slowly driven back.

p. 33, l. 37. In 1628 the two Dukes of Mecklenburg had been "put to
the ban" by the Emperor for having given help to Christian of Denmark
who had taken up the cause of the Protestants.

p. 34, l. 10. Gustavus Adolphus had been at war with Poland from 1617
to 1629.

p. 34, l. 30. This was not a treaty of active alliance. Both John
George of Saxony and George William of Brandenburg were Protestant
princes but they were at first anxious to maintain neutrality between
Sweden and the Emperor. The impolitic action of Ferdinand drove them
to join Gustavus Adolphus in 1631.

p. 34, l. 33. The German Diet was the meeting of the German princes
to consult on imperial matters. Ratisbon is one of the chief towns of
Bavaria.

p. 35, l. 17. The story of Magdeburg is told on p. 42.

p. 36, l. 1. Count Tilly was a Bavarian General of genius who had been
put at the head of the forces of the Catholic League in 1609.

p. 36, l. 31. The Protestant Union formed in 1608 had been forced to
dissolve itself in 1621.

p. 37, l. 5. Wallenstein is one of the greatest generals and the most
interesting figure in seventeenth century history. A Bohemian by birth
he fought for the Emperor with an army raised by himself.

p. 37, l. 16. The Conclusions of Leipsic are described on p. 39.

p. 38, l. 29. The King of Hungary was Ferdinand (afterwards Ferdinand
III) son of Ferdinand II. The "King of the Romans" was a title
bestowed on the person who was destined to become Emperor. (The Empire
was elective but tended to become hereditary.)

p. 39, l. 39. The Peace of Augsburg, 1555, had been intended to settle
the differences between the Lutherans and Catholics but it had left
many problems unsolved.

p. 42, l. 21. The Protestant bishopric of Magdeburg had been forcibly
restored to the Catholics in 1629. In 1631 the citizens of their own
accord, relying on Swedish help, declared against the Emperor.

p. 47, l. 40. Torgau, a strongly fortified town in Saxony.

p. 57, l. 37. The Prince of Orange at this time was William II who
married Mary, daughter of Charles I.

p. 59, l. 3. Except for the date, which should be 17th of September,
and the numbers on both sides which he exaggerates, the Cavalier's
account of the battle of Leipsic is fairly accurate.

p. 61, l. 39. Cuirassiers were heavy cavalry wearing helmet and
cuirass (two plates fastened together for the protection of the breast
and back).

p. 65, l. 10. _Crabats_ is an old form of _Croats_ the name of the
inhabitants of Croatia.

p. 66, l. 38. _Rix dollar_ is the English form of _Reichsthaler_ or
imperial dollar.

p. 67, l. 6. "Husband" is here used in the sense of "thrifty person."

p. 69, l. 18. A ducat was a gold coin generally worth about nine
shillings.

p. 70, l. 29. This passage describes the conquest of the string of
ecclesiastical territories known as the "Priest's Lane."

p. 71, l. 23. A partisan was a military weapon used by footmen in the
sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, and not unlike the halberd in
form.

p. 73, l. 10. "Bastion" is the name given to certain projecting
portions of a fortified building.

p. 78, l. 23. The Palatinate (divided into Upper and Lower) was a
Protestant state whose elector, the son-in-law of James I, had been
driven out by the Emperor in 1620.

p. 79, l. 11. _Reformado_: A military term borrowed from the Spanish,
signifying an officer who, for some disgrace is deprived of his
command but retains his rank. Defoe uses it to describe an officer not
having a regular command.

p. 81, l. 15. Frederick, Elector Palatine, had been elected King by
the Protestants of Bohemia in opposition to the Emperor Ferdinand. It
was his acceptance of this position which led to the confiscation of
his Palatinate together with his new kingdom.

p. 81, l. 24. James I had, after much hesitation, sent in 1625 an
expedition to the aid of the Elector, but it had miscarried. Charles I
was too much occupied at home to prosecute an active foreign policy.

p. 81, l. 35. The Elector died in the same year as Gustavus Adolphus.
His son Charles Lewis was restored to the Lower Palatinate only, which
was confirmed to him at the end of the war in 1648.

p. 82, l. 3. The battle of Nieuport, one of the great battles between
Holland and Spain, was fought in 1600 near the Flemish town of that
name. Prince Maurice won a brilliant victory under very difficult
conditions.

p. 82, l. 30. A ravelin is an outwork of a fortified building.

p. 86, l. 16. It was the attempt in 1607 to force Catholicism on the
Protestants of the free city of Donauwörth which led to the formation
of the Protestant Union in 1608.

p. 87, l. 9. The Duringer Wald.--Thuringia Wald.

p. 97, l. 29. Camisado (fr. Latin Camisia=a shirt) is generally used
to denote a night attack.

p. 98, l. 4. Note the inconsistency between this statement of the
Cavaliers interest in the curiosities at Munich and his indifference
in Italy where he had "no gust to antiquities."

p. 99, l. 7. Gustavus Adolphus had entered Nuremberg March 1631.
Wallenstein was now bent on re-taking it.

p. 100, l. 29. The Cavalier's enthusiasm for Gustavus Adolphus leads
to misrepresentation. The Swedish king has sometimes been blamed for
failing to succour Magdeburg.

p. 101, l. 23. Redoubts are the most strongly fortified points in the
temporary fortification of a large space.

p. 107, l. 13. The Cavalier glosses over the fact that Gustavus
Adolphus really retreated from his camp at Nuremberg, being
practically starved out, as Wallenstein refused to come to an
engagement.

p. 110, l. 38. Though the honours of war in the battle of Lützen went
to the Swedes it is probable that they lost more men than did the
Imperialists.

p. 113, l. 37. The battle of Nördlingen was one of the decisive
battles of the war. It restored to the Catholics the bishoprics of the
South which Gustavus Adolphus had taken.

p. 114, l. 39. The title "Infant" or "Infante" belongs to all princes
of the royal house in Spain. The Cardinal Infant really brought 15000
men to the help of the Emperor.

p. 116, l. 37. The King of Hungary had succeeded to the command of the
imperial army after the murder of Wallenstein in 1634.

p. 119, l. 34. The treaty of Westphalia in 1648 ended the Thirty
Years' War by a compromise. The Emperor recognised that he could have
no real authority in matters of religion over the states governed
by Protestant princes, North Germany remained Protestant, the South,
Catholic.

p. 120, l. 11. This statement is an anachronism. Prince Maurice of
Nassau the famous son of William the Silent died in 1625.

p. 120, l. 39. The Netherlands belonged to Spain in the seventeenth
century but revolted. The Northern provinces which were Protestant won
their independence, the Southern provinces which were Catholic (modern
Belgium) submitted to Spain on conditions.

p. 121, l. 19. The siege of Ostend, then in the hands of the Dutch,
was begun in July 1601 and came to an end in September 1604, when the
garrison surrendered with the honours of war.

p. 122, l. 31. In 1637 Laud had tried to force a new liturgy on
Scotland but this had been forcibly resisted. In 1638 the National
Covenant against "papistry" was signed by all classes in Scotland.
In the same year episcopacy was abolished there and Charles thereupon
resolved to subdue the Scots by arms. This led to the first "Bishops'
War" of 1639 which the Cavalier proceeds to describe.

p. 126, l. 4. Mercenaries (soldiers who fought in any army for the
mere pay) were chiefly drawn from Switzerland in the seventeenth
century.

p. 127, l. 38. By the Treaty of Berwick signed in June 1638 Charles
consented to allow the Scotch to settle their own ecclesiastical
affairs. When they again resolved to abolish episcopacy he broke his
word and in 1640 the Second "Bishops' War" took place. It was the
expenses of these wars which forced Charles to call parliament again.

p. 135, l. 34. It was the English Prayer Book with some slight changes
that Laud had attempted to impose on the Scotch.

p. 137, l. 31. Charles had in fact called the "Short Parliament" to
meet between these two expeditions but had quarrelled with it and
dissolved it.

p. 138, l. 7. The Scotch had no real part in the death of the King.
The Presbyterians indeed upheld monarchy though not as Charles
understood it.

p. 140, l. 26. The Long Parliament of 1640 passed an act by which it
could not be dissolved without its own consent.

p. 143, l. 4. The Treaty of Ripon (October 1640) left Northumberland
and Durham in the hands of the Scotch until the King should be able
to pay the £850 a day during their stay in England which he promised
them.

p. 143, l. 9. The permanent treaty signed in 1641 gave consent to
all the demands of the Scotch, including their freedom to abolish
episcopacy.

p. 143, l. 29. The Earl of Stafford had been the chief supporter of
Charles' method of government without parliament. He was executed in
1641 and Laud suffered the same fate in 1645.

p. 144, l. 21. By the "Grand Remonstrance" the parliament tried to
seize on the royal power.

p. 146, l. 13. The "gentry" of England were not, of course, all on the
Royalist side. Many of them, and some of the nobility, fought for the
parliament, though it is true that the majority were for the King.

p. 151, l. 27. In 1643 by the Solemn League and Covenant the Scotch
consented to help parliament against the King on condition that
Presbyterianism should be adopted as the English state religion.

p. 159, l. 33. The left wing was under the command of Lord Wilmot.

p. 170, l. 36. Leicester was taken by the King in 1645.

p. 180, l. 28. The Cavalier ascribes to himself the part taken by
Prince Maurice (the brother of Prince Rupert) and Lord Wilmot in
bringing aid to Hopton.

p. 187, l. 29. It was the King rather than the parliamentarians who
was anxious to give battle. The Royalists barred the way to London.

p. 189, l. 32. See note to p. 61, l. 39.

p. 192, l. 29. The parliamentarians certainly won a victory at the
second battle of Newbury.

p. 194, l. 2. The Scotch nobles, alarmed at the violence of the
parliamentarians, supported Charles in the second civil war (1648),
and after his death Scotland recognised Charles II as King. Cromwell
however conquered their country.

p. 194, l. 27. In 1641 a great Irish rebellion had followed the recall
of Strafford who had been Lord Lieutenant of that country.

p. 195, l. 12. It was not until 1645, when his cause was declining in
England, that Charles determined to seek direct help from the Irish.
This he did in the Glamorgan Treaty of that year by which he agreed
to the legal restoration of Catholicism in Ireland. But the Treaty was
discovered by the Parliament and Charles denied any knowledge of it.

p. 196, l. 11. The "Grand Seignior" was the name generally given to the
Sultan of Turkey.

p. 197, l. 5. William Prynne was the famous Puritan lawyer whose
imprisonment by the Star Chamber had made him one of the heroes of
Puritanism. George Buchanan was the famous Scotch scholar from whom
James I had derived much of his learning.

p. 197, l. 28. The dates are given both according to our present
mode of reckoning and according to the old system by which the year
commenced on 25th March.

p. 198, l. 6. The Scots besieged Newcastle for nine months, not merely
a few days as the Cavalier relates.

p. 202, l. 39. The great Spanish general, the Duke of Parma, went to
the relief of Paris which was in the hands of the Catholics and was
being besieged by the then Protestant Henry of Navarre in 1590.

p. 204, l. 9. As pointed out in the introduction the Cavalier's
account of the disposition of forces in this battle is inaccurate.

p. 205, l. 27. It was really Rupert's hitherto unconquered cavalry
which was thus borne down by Cromwell's horse.

p. 216, l. 4. A posset was a drink of milk curdled with an acid
liquid.

p. 219, l. 40. The Grisons are the people of one of the Swiss Cantons.

p. 222, l. 36. Newcastle was not retaken by Rupert.

p. 230, l. 8. By the Self-Denying Ordinance of 1645 all members of
Parliament were compelled to resign their commands. This rid the
parliamentarians of some of their most incapable commanders. Exception
was made in favour of Cromwell who was soon appointed Lieutenant
General.

p. 230, l. 17. On the "New Model" the armies of the parliamentary side
were reorganized as a whole, made permanent, and given a uniform and
regular pay.

p. 231, l. 15. It was not only the ecclesiastical conditions laid down
by the parliamentarians at the Treaty of Uxbridge which determined the
King's refusal. He was asked besides taking the Covenant to surrender
the militia.

p. 243, l. 26. The estates of many of the Cavalier gentlemen were
forfeited. Some were allowed to "compound," i.e. to keep part of their
estates on payment of a sum of money.

p. 253, l. 32. Montrose had created a Royalist party in Scotland and
was fighting there for the King.

p. 258, l. 1. The "forlorn" was a body of men sent in advance of an
expedition.

p. 272, l. 21. After the defeat of the Royalists dissension arose
between the parliament and the army and naturally the army was able to
coerce the parliament.

p. 274, l. 2. Cornet Joyce secured the person of the King by the order
of Cromwell, the idol of the army.

p. 274, l. 26. The Cavalier exaggerates the likelihood of an
understanding between the King and the parliament. In reality Charles
was merely playing off one party against the other.

p. 275, l. 7. In January 1648 parliament had passed a vote of "No
Addresses," renouncing any further negotiation with the King, but
after the second civil war of that year (in which the Presbyterians
joined the King) they resumed them again in the Treaty of Newport.
The army however became more violent, and the result was the forcible
exclusion of all moderate members of parliament in "Pride's Purge,"
December 1648. The trial and execution of the King followed.

p. 275, l. 35. The Cavalier refers to the acts of retaliation which
followed the Restoration of Charles II.

p. 276, l. 27. There were many republicans among the "Independents"
or "Sectaries" in the army, but the policy actually carried out can
hardly have been planned before the war.

p. 278, l. 5. Cardinal Bellarmine was one of the great
Controversialists of the Counter-Reformation.





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