The last days of the patriot Hampden are thus graphically told in the
_Edinburgh Review_ of Lord Nugent's recently published "Memorials." We
need scarcely observe, by way of introduction, that Hampden fell in
the great contest between Charles and his parliament; and that when
the appeal was to the sword, Hampden accepted the command of a
regiment in the parliamentary army, under the Earl of Essex; the Royal
forces being headed by Prince Rupert.
"In the early part of 1643, the shires lying in the neighbourhood
of London, which were devoted to the cause of the Parliament, were
incessantly annoyed by Rupert and his cavalry. Essex had extended
his lines so far, that almost every point was vulnerable. The
young prince, who, though not a great general, was an active and
enterprising partisan, frequently surprised posts, burned villages,
swept away cattle, and was again at Oxford, before a force sufficient
to encounter him could be assembled.
"The languid proceedings of Essex were loudly condemned by the troops.
All the ardent and daring spirits in the parliamentary party were
eager to have Hampden at their head. Had his life been prolonged,
there is every reason to believe that the supreme command would have
been entrusted to him. But it was decreed that, at this conjuncture,
England should lose the only man who united perfect disinterestedness
to eminent talents--the only man who, being capable of gaining the
victory for her, was incapable of abusing that victory when gained.
"In the evening of the 17th of June, Rupert darted out of Oxford with
his cavalry on a predatory expedition. At three in the morning of the
following day, he attacked and dispersed a few parliamentary soldiers
who were quartered at Postcombe. He then flew to Chinnor, burned the
village, killed or took all the troops who were posted there, and
prepared to hurry back with his booty and his prisoners to Oxford.
"Hampden had, on the preceding day, strongly represented to Essex
the danger to which this part of the line was exposed. As soon as he
received intelligence of Rupert's incursion, he sent off a horseman
with a message to the General. The cavaliers, he said, could return
only by Chiselhampton Bridge. A force ought to be instantly dispatched
in that direction, for the purpose of intercepting them. In the
meantime, he resolved to set out with all the cavalry that he could
muster, for the purpose of impeding the march of the enemy till Essex
could take measures for cutting off their retreat. A considerable body
of horse and dragoons volunteered to follow him. He was not their
commander. He did not even belong to their branch of the service. But
'he was,' says Lord Clarendon, 'second to none but the General himself
in the observance and application of all men.' On the field of
Chalgrove he came up with Rupert. A fierce skirmish ensued. In the
first charge, Hampden was struck in the shoulder by two bullets, which
broke the bone, and lodged in his body. The troops of the Parliament
lost heart and gave way. Rupert, after pursuing them for a short time,
hastened to cross the bridge, and made his retreat unmolested to
Oxford.
"Hampden, with his head drooping, and his hands leaning on his horse's
neck, moved feebly out of the battle. The mansion which had been
inhabited by his father-in-law, and from which in his youth he had
carried home his bride, Elizabeth, was in sight. There still remains
an affecting tradition, that he looked for a moment towards that
beloved house, and made an effort to go thither to die. But the enemy
lay in that direction. He turned his horse towards Thame, where he
arrived almost fainting with agony. The surgeons dressed his
wounds. But there was no hope. The pain which he suffered was
most excruciating. But he endured it with admirable firmness and
resignation. His first care was for his country. He wrote from his bed
several letters to London concerning public affairs, and sent a last
pressing message to the head-quarters, recommending that the dispersed
forces should be concentrated. When his last public duties were
performed, he calmly prepared himself to die. He was attended by a
clergyman of the Church of England, with whom he had lived in habits
of intimacy, and by the chaplain of the Buckinghamshire Green-coats,
Dr. Spurton, whom Baxter describes as a famous and excellent divine.
"A short time before his death, the sacrament was administered to him.
He declared that, though he disliked the government of the Church of
England, he yet agreed with that Church as to all essential matters of
doctrine. His intellect remained unclouded. When all was nearly over,
he lay murmuring faint prayers for himself, and for the cause in which
he died. 'Lord Jesus,' he exclaimed, in the moment of the last agony,
'receive my soul--O Lord, save my country--O Lord, be merciful to--,'
In that broken ejaculation passed away his noble and fearless spirit.
"He was buried in the parish church of Hampden. His soldiers,
bareheaded with reversed arms, and muffled drums, and colours,
escorted his body to the grave, singing, as they marched, that
lofty and melancholy psalm, in which the fragility of human life is
contrasted with the immutability of Him, in whose sight a thousand
years are but as yesterday when it is passed, and as a watch in the
night.
"The news of Hampden's death produced as great a consternation in his
party, according to Clarendon, as if their whole army had been cut
off. The journals of the time amply prove that the Parliament and all
its friends were filled with grief and dismay. Lord Nugent has quoted
a remarkable passage from the next _Weekly Intelligencer_. 'The loss
of Colonel Hampden goeth near the heart of every man that loves the
good of his king and country, and makes some conceive little content
to be at the army now that he is gone. The memory of this deceased
colonel is such, that in no age to come but it will more and more be
had in honour and esteem;--a man so religious, and of that prudence,
judgment, temper, valour, and integrity, that he hath left few his
like behind him,'
"He had indeed left none his like behind him. There still remained,
indeed, in his party, many acute intellects, many eloquent tongues,
many brave and honest hearts. There still remained a rugged and
clownish soldier,--half-fanatic, half-buffoon,--whose talents
discerned as yet only by one penetrating eye, were equal to all the
highest duties of the soldier and the prince. But in Hampden, and in
Hampden alone, were united all the qualities which, at such a crisis,
were necessary to save the state,--the valour and energy of Cromwell,
the discernment and eloquence of Vane, the humanity and moderation of
Manchester, the stern integrity of Hale, the ardent public spirit of
Sidney. Others might possess the qualities which were necessary to
save the popular party in the crisis of danger; he alone had both the
power and the inclination to restrain its excesses in the hour of
triumph. Others could conquer; he alone could reconcile."
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