about sixscore prisoners. The sun now rose, and a party of the parliament's horse appeared on the side of the Beacon Hill. It was led on by the patriot Hampden, who had slept that night at Watlington, in the neighbourhood, and who had vainly urged Essex the day before to strengthen his line by calling in the remote picquets from Wycombe, from Postcombe, and Chinnor. On the first alarm of Rupert's night irruption he dispatched a trooper to the lord-general at Thame, advising him to detach a force of infantry and cavalry to Chiselhampton bridge, the only point at which the royalists could recross the Cherwell. And, this done, Hampden, against the advice of his friends, who were entertaining the hope of seeing him speedily appointed by parliament commander-in-chief of the army instead of Essex, and who thought he ought not to expose himself in an affair of outposts, instantly mounted his horse, and rode with a troop of Captain Sheffield's horse, and some of Gunter's dragoons, to keep the royalists in play till the slow Essex should have time to come up or send his column to Chiselhampton bridge. Hampden found Rupert on Chalgrove field, and there, among the standing corn, which covered an unenclosed plain of several hundred acres, the prince hastily formed in order of battle. In the mean time, Major Gunter, having joined three troops of horse and one of dragoons, that were spurring on from Easington and Thame, descended Golden Hill, got among the enclosures on the right of Rupert's line, and opened a fire from behind the hedge-row which formed, and still forms, the boundary on that side of Chalgrove field. Colonel Neale and General Percy brought round the left wing to support the right, and after a fierce conflict Gunter was slain, and his party made to give way. Hampden, who expected every moment to see the head of Essex's column, rode up to rally and support the disordered horse of Gunter; and, putting himself at the head of a squadron, he charged Rupert's right. But, as he was spurring up to the royalists, he was struck in the shoulder with two carabine-balls, which broke the bone and entered his body. The reins fell from his disabled arm, and, with his head bent in agony over his horse's neck, he turned away from that fatal charge. His friends then fell into disorder, and, looking in vain for the tardy Essex, they commenced a retreat, leaving many officers and men dead on the field. Rupert pushed on for Chiselhampton bridge. There was no Essex there, nor any troops of his sending. The royalists recrossed the Cherwell, and hurried back with their prisoners and booty to Oxford. Meanwhile Hampden was seen riding off the field before the action was quite over-" a thing," says Clarendon, "he never used to do, and from which it was concluded he was hurt." At first he moved in the direction of his father-in-law Simeon's house at Pyrton, where he had in his youth married the first wife of his love, and whither he would fain have gone to die; but Rupert's cavalry covered

the plain in that direction, and so he turned his horse's head and rode towards Thame. There was a brook intervened-a gentle little brook, which he had often leaped in his field sports-but now, disabled and in anguish, it made him pause: but, summoning all his strength, he clapped spurs to his horse and cleared the brook. Fainting with pain, he reached Thame, and was conducted to the house of one Ezekiel Browne. The surgeons at first gave him hopes of life, but he felt himself that his hurts were mortal. The pain of the wounds was excruciating, yet he almost immediately occupied himself in writing letters to the parliament concerning public affairs, which seemed desperate in his eyes, unless the irresolute and lazy spirit which had directed the army should give place to more manly resolutions and more active operations. He again sent to head-quarters, earnestly to recommend the correction of those military errors to which he had fallen a sacrifice; to implore Essex to concentrate his army, so as to cover London and set at defiance the flying incursions of Rupert's horse. After nearly six days of suffering, he felt that the weakness and decay of the body were prevailing over the strength of his soul, and he prepared to die like a Christian. About seven hours before his death he received the sacrament, declaring (according to Baxter) that, though he could not away with the governance of the church by bishops, and did utterly abominate the scandalous lives of some clergymen, he thought the doctrines of the church of England in the greater part conformable to God's word. He was attended by his old friend Dr. Giles, the rector of Chinnor, and by Dr. Spurstow, an independent minister, the chaplain of his Buckinghamshire greencoats, and his spirit passed away in fervid prayers for his country. He expired on the 24th of June, and was buried a few days after in the parish church of Hampden. His gallant greencoatsone of the best regiments that as yet bore arms for the parliament-bare-headed, with their arms reversed, their drums and ensigns muffled, followed him to the grave, singing the 90th Psalm, which in a lofty strain dwells on the immutability of the everlasting God, in whose sight a thousand years are but as yesterday when it is past, and as a watch in the night, and on the weakness and brief existence of us mortal men, who flourish and fade like the grass, and spend our years as a tale that is told. And when those hardy soldiers had seen the dust heaped upon him who had been the friend of all of them from their youth upwards, they returned chanting a more hopeful strain, calling upon the God of their strength to plead their cause, to send out his light and truth, and prevent their soul from being disquieted.* Never in the memory of those times had there been so general a consternation and sorrow at any one man's death as that with which the tidings were received in London, and by the friends of the parliament all over the land-the consternation was as great to all of that

• 43rd Psalm.

party as if their whole army had been defeated or cut off.*

But other misfortunes came thick upon the parliament about the same time. The Earl of Newcastle had grown so strong in the North, that, on the 30th of June, he entirely defeated the parliamentary army under Lord Fairfax and his son, Sir Thomas, at Atherton Moor; while, in the meantime, he had opened a secret correspondence with the Hothams, who had conceived a great jealousy of the younger Fairfax, who had been spoken of as the successor of Sir John in the governorship of Hull. They agreed to shut out the Fairfaxes, and admit Newcastle, who was to garrison the town for the king. If this plot had succeeded, the parliament must have lost the whole northern country-for, from Berwick to Lincoln, the only place of strength they retained was Hull. But some members gained timely intelligence of the plot, seized the two Hothams, fettered and chained them like the worst of malefactors, and put the Lord Fairfax into the town. Both father and son had done the parliament rare service at the beginning of the war, but their present offence-which was fully proved by intercepted letters and by other documents-could not be forgiven: they were both put on ship-board, carried to London, and committed to the Tower on the 15th of July. A few months after they were tried and convicted of high treason. On the 1st of January, 1644, the younger Hotham was brought to the scaffold on Tower Hill: this time it "fell edge ;"-and his

• Clarendon.-In the account of the battle or skirmish and of the death of Hampden, we have chiefly followed Lord Nugent (Memorials of John Hampden, his Party and his Times), whose descriptions are the more valuable from his perfect acquaintance with the scene of the fight and all the localities in Buckinghamshire. His lordship, too, quotes valuable contemporary documents. Mr. Foster (Lives of Eminent British Statesmen) has collected a variety of very interesting particulars concerning the last hours of Hampden and the impression made by his death.

father, Sir John, was executed at the same place the day after.

Oliver Cromwell, marching at the head of a thousand horse of his own raising, had before this time fallen upon Newark-on-Trent, where the Earl of Newcastle had introduced a formidable garrison, which kept Nottinghamshire and a great part of Lincolnshire in check. Cromwell failed in his assault, but he gained several advantages in the field, defeating detached bodies, and disarming and dispersing the levies that were repairing to the Earl of Newcastle's standard. At the same time he gave new life to the dispirited levies of the parliament, and with their assistance he gained what may be called a brilliant victory near Grantham. Shortly after the battle at Atherton Moor, Lord Willoughby and the parliamentarians carried the important town of Gainsborough by assault, taking its numerous garrison prisoners. Newcastle presently advanced southward to the scene of action, and, but for the timely arrival of Cromwell, Lord Willoughby had been cut to pieces. Together the two parliamentarian generals defeated the first division of Newcastle's army; but this nobleman, coming up in full force soon after, changed the fortune of the war, and Cromwell was obliged to retreat in his turn, leaving Newcastle to take possession, not only of Gainsborough, but also of Lincoln. Nor was the parliament much more successful in the west, where Sir William Waller was defeated and his whole army dispersed, near Devizes, by the royalist general, Wilmot. And shortly after this serious loss, Prince Rupert, having hovered about Bristol, till he found, by his correspondents, whereof he had many in the city, the points at which it was worst provided for resistance, fell upon it with all his fury. Nathaniel Fiennes, the parliamentary go

vernor, was a better debater in the House than military commander, and he surrendered Bristol after a siege of only three days. For this he was afterwards sentenced by a council of war to lose his life, but he was pardoned by the Earl of Essex, and gave up his military service, which he ought never to have undertaken. Exeter, whither the queen had retired to be delivered of a daughter, was strongly fortified, and the wild and hardy men of Cornwall were furiously loyal. The only strong place in the west which held out for the parliament was the city of Gloucester, wherein lay for some weeks the whole fortune of the war. In her way from the north, the queen, bringing very considerable reinforcements, among whom were many French and Walloons, had passed through Oxford, and spent some time there with her husband. At this moment it was apprehended that Charles would make another attempt upon the capital, and the Londoners set themselves to work to fortify the city. "The example of gentlemen of the best quality, knights and ladies, going out with drums beating, and spades and mattocks in their hands to assist in the work, put life into the drooping people ;"* and in an incredibly short space of time entrenchments, twelve miles in circuit, were thrown up round London. Essex, at this crisis, addressed a letter to the Lords, recommending an immediate accommodation with the king; and the Lords forthwith voted a petition to his majesty, which was, however, indignantly rejected by the Commons, and reprobated by the citizens of London and by their preachers in the pulpit. Four lords had been appointed to recruit the parliamentary

.May.

army; three of them, Pembroke, Bolingbroke, and Lord Howard of Escrick, now declined their commissions, but the fourth peer, the Lord Kimbolton (become Earl of Manchester by the death of his father),* accepted and executed his.† In other respects the section of the lords that yet remained with the parliament in London or in its armies began to betray a very alarming vacillation; and Bedford, general of the horse, Northumberland, Holland, and Clare, the father of Denzil Hollis, were suspected at least of trimming. Essex had already given manifold grounds of complaint, but his name and influence were still considered important; and when the Commons sent him large reinforcements, and a committee of the House waited upon him, even the suspicious St. John and the sagacious Pym were satisfied as to his devotion to the cause. The spirit shown by the people of London was a very discouraging symp tom, and Charles, instead of advancing into the south, struck away to the west, to lay siege to Gloucester. Essex soon followed him to relieve that important place; and, by an admirably conducted march, during the greater part of which he had Prince Rupert and Lord Wilmot, each in command of a formidable force, in his van or on his right flank, he got from Hounslow to Gloucester, just in time to save that city, which had made an heroic defence under Colonel Massey. The royalists raised their siege on the 3rd of September, and the cause of the parliament was saved.

He had been summoned to the House of Peers during the life: time of his father, as Baron Montagu of Kimbolton; but was com monly called Lord Kimbolton.

+ Godwin, Hist. of the Commonwealth.

Leaving a good garrison and all necessary supplies in Gloucester, Essex turned back to recover his position in front of London. This retrograde march was as well conducted as the advance had been, but, when he got near Newbury, he found the king strongly posted there, and drawn up to cut off his retreat. The river that ran through the town defended the royalists, so that the parliamentarians could not easily come at them, and on the north-west, within cannon-shot, lay Donnington Castle,-famous for having been the seat, in his old age, of Geoffrey Chaucer,-in which Charles had placed a garrison and artillery. The only feasible approach to the town was from the north-east, but there, too, the royalists had made formidable preparations, throwing up a breastwork, and furnishing some houses with mus"The king," says Clarendon, "seemed

to be possessed of all advantages: so that it was conceived that it was in the king's power whether he would fight or no, and therefore that he might compel them to notable disadvantages, who must make their way through or starve; and this was so fully understood, that it was resolved over-night not to engage in battle but upon such grounds as should give an assurance of victory. But, contrary to this resolution, when the Earl of Essex had, with excellent conduct, drawn out his

Prince Rupert, who had marched day and night over the hills to get between London and the enemy, attacked Essex with 5000 horse as he was crossing Awborne Chase the day before the battle of Newbury. According to Clarendon, he routed the rear of the parliamentarians, and did good execution; but the thing appears to have been a mere skirmish, in which the royalists got as good as they gave. A French marquis, a very gallant gentleman, who had come over with the queen from Holland, and was serving as a volunteer in the regiment of the Lord Jermyn, her majesty's favourite or lover (he was afterwards her husband by a left-hand marriage), was killed. Many officers were hurt, among whom were the Lord Jermyn him. self, who owed his life to the excellent temper of his armour; and the volatile Lord Digby, who got a strange hurt in the face.-Clarendon.

army in battalia, upon a hill called Bigg's Hill, within less than a mile of the town, and ordered his men in all places to the best advantage, by the precipitate courage of some young officers who had good commands, and who unhappily always undervalued the courage of the enemy, strong parties became successively so far engaged that the king was compelled to put the whole to the hazard of a battle, and to give the enemy at least an equal game to play." The king's horse, with a "kind of contempt" of the enemy, charged with wonderful boldness; but, though successful at some points, they were in general thrown off from the sharp points of Essex's pikes, and the parliamentarian foot behaved admirably, giving their scattered horse time to rally. "For," says Clarendon, "though the king's horse made the enemy's horse often give ground, yet their foot were so immoveable that little was gotten by the other." Night at last came on, and separated the combatants. During the darkness the royalists removed their cannon and other carriages to Donnington Castle, and, having lodged them there, marched off towards Oxford. "At this time," ," says Clarendon, "Sir William Waller was at Windsor, with above two thousand horse and as many foot, as unconcerned for what might befall the Earl of Essex as the Earl had formerly been on his behalf at Roundway Hill; otherwise, if he had advanced upon the king to Newbury (which was not above twenty miles) when the earl was on the other side, the king had been in great danger of an utter defeat; and the apprehension of this was the reason, or was afterwards pretended to be, for the hasty engagement in battle." In the morning Essex entered Newbury, whence he proceeded without opposition to Read

ing, where he was met by a congratulating deputation. In the battle of Newbury, which was fought on the 20th of September, Essex's men were full of mettle ;" and the London recruits, the apprentices, the artisans, and the shopkeepers of London, particularly distinguished themselves.* The parliamentarians lost some five hundred men and very few officers: the king lost treble the number of men and many officers of rank; but the greatest loss of all was estimated to be the accomplished Lord Falkland, then Charles's secretary of state, who was struck with a musket-ball, and died on the field, only three months after the death of his opponent, but once bosom friend, Hampden.

According to Clarendon, from the first entrance into this unnatural war, Falkland's natural cheerfulness and vivacity grew clouded, and a kind of sadness and dejection of spirit stole upon him which he had never been used to. After the retreat from Brentford and the declaration of the two Houses not to admit of any treaty of peace with the king, his melancholy increased, growing into a perfect habit of uncheerfulness, "and he who had been so exactly easy and affable to all men that his face and countenance was always present, and vacant to his company, and held any cloudiness and less pleasantness of the visage a kind of rudeness or incivility, became on a sudden less communicable, and thence very sad, pale, and exceedingly affected with the spleen. In his clothes and habit, which he had minded before always with more neatness and industry and expense than is usual to so great a soul, he was not now only incurious but too negligent; and in his reception of suitors, and the necessary or casual addresses to his place, so quick and sharp and severe that there wanted not some men (strangers to his nature and disposition) who believed him proud and imperious, from which no mortal man was ever more free. When there was any overture or hope of peace, he would be more erect and vigorous, and exceedingly solicitous to press anything which he thought might promote it, and, sitting among his friends, often, after a deep silence and frequent sighs, would, with a shrill and sad accent, ingeminate the word 'Peace! peace!' and would passionately profess, That the very agony of the war, and the view of the calamities and desolation the kingdom did and must endure, took his sleep from him, and would shortly

May mentions that the two train-bands of London were often charged by both horse and foot, but stood to it with undaunted resolution Clarendon pays the same compliment, stating that all Essex's foot behaved themselves admirably. He adds," The London trained bands and auxiliary regiments (of whose inexperience of danger, or any kind of service beyond the easy practice of their postures in the Artillery Garden, men had till then too cheap an estimation) behaved themselves to wonder, and were, in truth, the preservation of that army that day; for they stood as a bulwark and rampire to defend the rest, and, when their wings of horse were scattered and dispersed, kept their ground so steadily, that, though Prince Rupert himself led up the choice horse to charge them, and endured their storm of small shot, he could make no impression upon their stand of pikes, but was forced to wheel about,-of so sovereign benefit and use is that readiness and dexterity in the use of their arms which hath been so much neglected."-Hist.

break his heart.'"* At Newbury Charles lost two other lords, the Earl of Sunderland, who, having no command in the army, attended upon the king's person "under the obligation of honour," and putting himself that day in the king's guard as a volunteer, was taken off by a cannon-ball; and the Earl of Caernarvon, another young and accomplished nobleman, who, after making a brilliant charge and routing some of the parliamentarian horse, was run through the body with a sword by a trooper as he was returning carelessly back to his position.†

Some mistakes committed by Charles in his court and cabinet were as fatal to his interests as the battle of Newbury,-perhaps more so. The great Earl of Northumberland withdrew (in disgust with the parliament or in the hope of seeing on which side victory would lean) to his castle of Petworth in Sussex; but the other three suspected noblemen, the Earls of Clare, Bedford, and Holland, went to Oxford to join the king. Instead of receiving them with kindness and conciliation,-instead of treating them as policy should have dictated, like men who had discovered their mistake and turned penitently from the error of their ways,-Charles regarded them with suspicion and distrust, treated them like condemned traitors, and permitted his courtiers to heap insults upon them. The three earls presently fled back again to the parliament, which consented to receive them and overlook their backsliding. The people said that the three earls had done good service by showing that, after trying both sides, they preferred that of the patriots; but this escapade tended, with a thousand other things and circumstances, greatly to sink the House of Lords in public

estimation.

In the preceding year, when London seemed to be threatened by the king, the parliament had made certain applications for aid to the Scots; but it was not till the middle of the present year (1643) that those negotiations were pressed with any earnestness. In the mean time Charles, by means of the Duke of Hamilton,‡ had required, as the only thing he would ask of them, that his native subjects the Scots would not rebel. But

Clarendon, Hist. There are some little traits in Whitelock's account of Lord Falkland's death quite as touching as anything in the full, eloquent outpouring of Clarendon.

"The Lord Falkland, secretary of state, in the morning of the fight, called for a clean shirt, and, being asked the reason of it, answered, that, if he were slain in the battle, they should not find his body in foul linen. Being dissuaded by his friends to go into the fight, as having no call to it, and being no military officer, he said he was weary of the times, and foresaw much misery to his own country, and did believe he should be out of it ere night, and could not be persuaded to the contrary, but would enter into the battle, and was there slain. His death was much lamented by all that knew him or heard of him, being a gentleman of great parts, iugenuity, and honour, courteous and just to all, and a passionate pro moter of all endeavours of peace betwixt the king and parliament." -Memorials.

White

+ Clarendon-Ludlow.-Warwick.- May.-Whitelock. lock mentions the following irritating fact:-"Amongst the colours taken at Newbury, one cornet was the figure of the Parliament House, with two traitors' heads standing on the top of it, and by them this word ut extra, sic infra; but the parliament nevertheless exposed them to public view and censure."

The Marquess of Hamilton had been made a Duke by Charles, at Oxford, in April of this year.