OF NASEBY FIGHT.
It was about five of the clock in the morning on Saturday, the 14th
day of June, that the drawing up of the King's army was finished. In
the centre was my Lord Astley with about two thousand five hundred
foot; on the right the Prince Rupert with about two thousand horse;
and on the left Sir Marmaduke Langdale with the northern horse, about
sixteen hundred in all. In the reserves were about thirteen hundred,
horse and foot together; so that there were in all scarce eight
thousand, the horse and foot being well nigh equal in number.
About eight of the clock in the morning comes a rumour that the enemy
had retired. Thereupon the scout-master is sent out, and certain
horsemen with him, among whom was John Talboys and I, to make further
discovery. We rode about two miles and a half, or, it may be three,
and saw nothing. Then said the scout-master: "This report is
manifestly true; these rascals are in great fear of us, and have
fled." Thereupon he turned back with his company to carry the tidings
to the King. Then says John Talboys to me: "I take it Master
Scout-master has scarce gone far enough. Do you see yonder height?
What say you to going thither? If we can see nothing there, then 'tis
plain that they are indeed gone."
We rode as he had said, and no sooner were we gotten to the top of the
hill than we saw the enemy almost under our feet. So close were we to
them that a gunner aimed a small cannon that he had at us, and we
could hear the bullet pass over our heads. "We have seen enough," says
John; "let us go back."
Thereupon we galloped back, and found that the Prince had moved
forward some horsemen and musqueteers, as thinking that the report of
the enemy's retreat, which, indeed, had been in some sort confirmed by
the scout-master, was true. We told him what we had seen, but he
seemed to be persuaded in his mind that the enemy were now retreating.
So he says to me: "Ride to my Lord Astley and tell him to come forward
with all the haste he can, if he would not have the enemy escape us;
and you," he said, turning to John Talboys, "carry the same words to
Sir Marmaduke." It was not for me to question his bidding, so I rode
with all the speed I could, and delivered the message to my Lord
Astley, who, nothing questioning, for the Prince being in the van
could not but know the truth, gave orders to advance with all speed.
When we came to the hill-top (the same at which the scout-master had
halted) we saw, I being in the following of my Lord Astley, the Prince
Rupert in the level ground below us, and on the brow of the hill
beyond, to which John Talboys and I had ridden, the army of the
Parliament. These last drew back so soon as we came into their
view--it was but a hundred yards or so--the better to hide themselves
and their plans; but we, or at the least some of us, imagined that
they fled. Thereupon we moved on the faster, so fast indeed that we
left behind much of our ordnance. Indeed, it is scarce to be believed
how all through the day we continually put ourselves at a
disadvantage.
[Illustration: _A Cavalry Skirmish._
_HANHART LITH._]
The Prince Rupert began the battle, charging the enemy's left wing. I
saw him and his horsemen gallop up the slope of the hill past some
thick hedges, from which came forth a fire of musketry (the hedges
being lined with dragoons on foot) which emptied some saddles, yet not
so many as to check them. More of the Prince's doings I could not see,
he passing from our view when he had got to the brow of the hill; but
I heard that he broke the enemy's left wing, scattering them all ways,
and then rode on as if he would have taken the baggage. 'Tis said that
the captain of the baggage guard took him for Sir Thomas Fairfax, he
wearing a red Spanish cloak after his lordship's fashion, and went to
him, hat in hand, and asked: "How goes the day?" thinking that he was
the General; and that thereupon the Prince asked whether they would
have quarter, which they refused, and gave him a volley instead, which
beat him and his horsemen off. On the other wing the Parliament men
did not wait for our coming but charged Sir Marmaduke Langdale's
horse, taking advantage of the ground, and to such a purpose that,
after some smart blows given and taken, our horsemen were beaten off,
and, indeed, fought no more that day.
Nevertheless, it seemed for a while as if the day would go well for
us, for the main body of our foot charging against the main body of
theirs did great execution upon them. The lines fired but one volley
upon each other, nor did either do much damage, aiming too high, as
young soldiers are wont to do, and then came to swords and the butt
ends of their muskets. I do protest that however much I might be
minded to magnify myself and my deeds, I could by no means tell what I
did that day. I know only this that I found my sword somewhat hacked
and some shrewd cuts in my buff-coat, but wound had I none save a
bruise upon the forepart of the left shoulder from a musket bullet
that by great happiness had spent itself before ever it came near to
me. But altogether we used our swords and muskets to such good purpose
that the enemy fled, though the officers for the most part, and
especially they that had the colours, stood bravely to their posts.
The victory being, as we judged, thus assured, my Lord Astley
bethought him whether he could not succour the left wing, which the
King also, who was with his guards in the reserve, was making ready to
support in their need. Whereupon he sends me with this message to the
King: "Does your Majesty need help?" This I was on the point to
deliver, his Majesty being at the head of his guards, and preparing to
charge, when I saw my Lord Carnworth, who was riding next to the King,
lay his hand upon his bridle, the next moment my Lord cried out with a
great oath: "Will you go upon your death in an instant?" and so
saying, turned the Kings horse round. After this the command was
given: "March to the right." Now this marching to the right led them
away both from helping their own and from charging the enemy. In whose
voice it was given I cannot affirm, but 'tis certain that it was too
readily obeyed. When my father, who was setting the second line of the
guards in order, saw what was doing, he rode with all the speed of his
horse to the King and said: "Pardon me, sir, but it is ruin absolute
if we leave the field in this fashion." Then the King, who here again
had yielded against his will and better judgment to the worse counsel,
cried with a loud voice: "Stand." But, though some obeyed this
command, yet for the greater part it was too late. Almost at the
instant of the King's speaking came a musket shot from the enemy's
ranks and wounded my father, entering by the left arm, which it broke,
and lodging in his shoulder. It was fired from close at hand, but by
whom I saw not. I have always thanked God for this, for else I had
hated the man who fired, though he did but his duty to his masters. My
father reeled in his saddle and was like to have fallen, but John
Talboys, riding by him, held him up. The next moment my good beast
falls dead with a shot, that passing my leg so close that it tore the
leather of my boot, entered behind his foreleg and so passed, I take
it, to his heart. Certain it is that he fell and never stirred more.
The King was much concerned to see my father hurt (he had ever a
tender heart for his friends, though it must be confessed that he
could desert them when occasion demanded), and said to John Talboys:
"Carry Colonel Dashwood to as safe a place as you can find." Thereupon
they rode off at a fair pace, my father having recovered somewhat from
the first shock of his wound, I following as best I could on foot. And
with this ends all that I saw of the battle of Naseby. The time was
then, as near as I could reckon, about noon.
[Illustration: _A Pikeman_.
_HANHART LITH._]
How General Cromwell fell upon the main body of the King's army, and,
Sir Thomas Fairfax's reserves coming up at the same time, brake it in
pieces, is known to all. The Prince came back from his idle seeking
for plunder, and would have rallied them that remained, but could
avail nothing. It is to be noted, indeed, that the King's men both at
this and at other times lacked the steadfastness of their enemies, who
would stay obstinately in their place, even when they were overborne
by greater strength, and being driven back would rally again. But
these things the King's men would never do; so that when they gained a
victory, it was not completed, for want of a second charge, and when
they suffered defeat, it was a disaster beyond all remedy. I count it,
indeed, no small proof of this defect, that of our army more than a
half suffered themselves to be taken prisoners, who might surely have
escaped, or, it may be, restored the day, had they only had the heart
to rally to each other. As for ourselves, we had in this respect great
good fortune, which came about in this way. When the horsemen of the
Parliament's army were riding about the field, gathering in the
prisoners, Sir Thomas Fairfax comes upon us, where we were, my father
lying upon the ground, and John Talboys and I sitting on either side.
There was some acquaintance, or rather friendship, between the General
and my father, they having met at the Court, to which my father would
sometimes go, and there talking much together of military affairs, for
which my Lord had had, from a boy, a very singular liking. When he saw
my father, and knew who he was, he showed in his face a great concern
and said, "This is a sorry sight, Master Dashwood, to behold you thus
lying here. Indeed, it is the curse of this most hateful war that
there is a double bitterness even in victory. They who conquer must
always lament their friends that have fallen in the battle, but now we
must needs lament our enemies also, who are indeed often our friends
by old acquaintance and kindness. But say, can I do aught for you
now?"
"Sir," said my father, "I doubt not that this bullet has sped me
beyond all hope of recovery. But if, as may be, I have yet a few days
to live, I would fain spend them elsewhere than in a prison. My son
here is a scholar of Oxford, whom I would gladly send back to his
books, now that the King's cause is lost beyond repair, as I doubt not
that it is. And I would gladly have my good friend John Talboys here
to take care of me till I die. Can you give me a pass that shall keep
us from the prison?"
"You shall have it," said the General, "having first promised, as I
doubt not you are ready to do, that you will not for the space of
three years bear arms against the Parliament."
"I promise," said my father, "and that the more readily, knowing that
I shall never bear arms again."
John Talboys and I also promised. Therefore the General gave to each
of us a pass in these words, the name only being changed:--
"_Suffer Philip Dashwood the elder, late of the King's army, who has
promised not to bear arms against the Parliament for the space of
three years from this date, to pass whither-soever he will._"
This was about three of the clock in the afternoon, the battle having
been then two hours ended.