CHAPTER XXV

CIVIL WAR IN CHESHIRE. II

A MEMORABLE SIEGE

In 1645 word was brought to Chester that the king himself was coming,

and the drooping spirits of the Royalists revived. Charles entered the

city with about three hundred followers who had escaped from the battle

of Naseby, where the main Royalist army had been cut to pieces by

Cromwell's Ironsides. During his short visit to Chester the king was the

guest of Sir Francis Gamull at his home, still called Gamull House, in

Bridge Street.

Many of you have read the inscription on the Phoenix Tower on the walls

of Chester--

'King Charles

stood on this tower

September 27th, 1645, and saw

His Army defeated

on Rowton Moor.'

Rowton Moor is no longer moorland. A village now stands on the

battlefield where the last hopes of the loyal inhabitants of Chester

were destroyed. The defeated army consisted of the remnants of the

Royalist cavalry under Sir Marmaduke Langdale, who was trying to cut his

way through the enemy to reinforce the garrison of Chester. The

Royalists were almost successful, and a sortie was made by the troops

within the city to join hands with Langdale, but the Puritan General

Poyntz, following closely on the heels of the Royalist horse, threw

them into hopeless confusion and drove them helter-skelter in all

directions. During the battle Sir Geoffrey Shakerley, whose tomb is in

the Shakerley Chapel at Little Peover, carried dispatches to the king,

ferrying himself across the river Dee in a tub. Some matchlocks and

firelocks used in this battle have been found on the Heath, and are now

in the Chester Museum.

This defeat was almost the final blow received by the king in his

struggle with Parliament. On the following day Charles fled into Wales

by an undefended road, asking only that the city might hold out for

eight days longer to enable him to make good his escape. In a tiny

window in Farndon Church are some pieces of ancient painted glass, with

portraits of several of the Cheshire esquires who attended Charles

during his stay in Chester.

The cordon was now drawn tighter round the doomed city, and a regular

blockade followed to starve the citizens into surrender. When the

Cromwellian troops who had been battering Lathom House in Lancashire

arrived and took up a position on the north side of the walls, the city

was completely surrounded. Dodleston Hall, to the south-west of the

city, was occupied by Brereton to prevent any further escapes into

Wales. The Roundheads made a floating bridge across the river Dee, which

was, however, destroyed by fireships which were turned adrift and were

carried up the river by a strong spring tide. Scaling-ladders were fixed

on the walls, but the Royalists dragged them up into the city in the

night-time.

The inhabitants were determined not to give in without a struggle. Even

women took a share in the work of defence, carrying baskets of earth to

fill up the breaches made by a night attack upon the city walls. The

city was well protected by the river Dee on its western and southern

sides; a semicircle of mud earthworks was made round the north and east

of the city. Many large houses in the neighbourhood were burnt by the

Royalists to prevent their being used by the enemy. The suburb of

Boughton, with its hall, was entirely destroyed, fighting taking place

almost daily in this quarter. The Royalists also made breaches in the

Dee Bridge.

When the outworks were carried by the Parliamentarian troops, all S.

John's parish lay at their mercy. The Roundheads turned the church into

a fortress, and planted a battery of guns on the tower, from which they

battered the city walls. In a glass case at the west end of the church

you may see a cannon ball that was fired from the walls and long

afterwards found embedded in the church tower.

The walls were also fiercely bombarded from Brewers Hall on the opposite

side of the Dee, though a battery of guns placed on the summit of

Morgan's Mount kept the besiegers at bay on the north. The Water Tower

at the north-west corner of the city bears the marks of some well-aimed

shots from the guns of Cromwell's men.

Within the city the hardships were very severe. Fires were frequent,

especially in the night-time. Cold and bleak December days increased the

suffering, and, worst of all, food was getting scarce, and the pinch of

hunger began to be felt. At length the inhabitants were reduced to

eating the flesh of horses and dogs, and still Sir Nicholas Byron held

out, waiting daily for the help that never came. Famine did its work at

last, and after a siege of eighteen weeks the city surrendered to

Brereton on February 3, 1646.

One of the conditions of surrender was that the victorious troops should

not do any damage to the city. The fragment of the High Cross, now in

the Grosvenor Museum, shows that in this respect the soldiers of

Cromwell did not keep their word. Sir Francis Gamull, the mayor,

bargained with the Roundheads that the tombs of his family should not be

harmed, and this explains the fact that the Gamull monuments in S.

Mary's-on-the-Hill are almost the only relics of the kind in Chester

that escaped destruction.

The events of the war were published every week in the Mercurius Aulicus

or 'Court Mercury,' a forerunner of the modern newspaper. In the Free

Library at Birkenhead are preserved some sheets of this paper, on one of

which is related the story of the capture and recapture of Beeston

Castle. After its occupation by the Parliamentary troops a daring

assault was made upon the castle by Captain Sandford and a party of

eight Royalists, who scaled the steep rock on which the castle is built

and called upon the defenders to surrender. Captain Steel, the Puritan

commander, was tried for cowardice in yielding to so small a force, and

condemned to be shot. After the battle of Rowton Moor the castle endured

a seven weeks' siege, and surrendered in November, 1645. Shortly

afterwards Parliament ordered the castle to be dismantled, and it has

been in ruins ever since. Several of the officers who were killed at

Beeston are buried at Tarporley.

Many of the Cheshire halls, which were held mainly by Royalists,

suffered severely for their loyalty to the king. Crewe Hall was taken by

the Roundheads, retaken by Byron, and finally garrisoned by the soldiers

of Brereton. Huxley Hall was occupied by Colonel Croxton during the

siege of Chester. Puddington Hall, in Wirral, the ancient home of the

Masseys, whose owner, Sir William Massey, remained in Chester till its

fall, was destroyed by fire.

Adlington Hall, the home of the loyal Leghs, endured a fortnight's

siege, at the end of which time its gallant garrison of one hundred and

fifty men was compelled to surrender and permitted to depart. The marks

of cannon shot used in the bombardment may still be seen upon the

massive oak doors of the courtyard. Wythenshaw Hall was held by

Royalists, but Colonel Dukinfield, a friend and neighbour of Sir William

Brereton, compelled a surrender after a short siege. Cannon balls have

been found in the grounds of the hall.

Vale Royal, the private residence of the Cholmondeleys since Henry the

Eighth turned out its abbot and monks, was plundered and partly burnt by

the soldiers of General Lambert's army. Sir Peter Leycester, of Tabley

Hall, fell into the hands of the Parliamentarians and was sent to

prison. During his captivity he first planned his famous book of the

History and Antiquities of Cheshire.

The lot of the unhappy Cheshire squire was indeed pitiable. Royalists

and Roundheads were equally unwelcome guests, treating their host with

scant ceremony, ransacking his house and helping themselves freely to

everything that might be of any service to them. Let Peter Davenport,

the squire of Bramhall, tell in his own words the story of his woes: 'On

New Year's Day, 1643, came Captain Sankey (a Parliamentary officer) with

two or three troopers to Bramhall, and went into my stable and took out

my horses, above twenty in all, and afterwards searched my house for

arms again and took my fowling-piece, stocking-piece, and drum, with

divers other things. Next day, after they were gone, came Prince

Rupert's army, by whom I lost better than a hundred pounds in linen and

other goods, besides the rifling and pulling to pieces of my house. By

whom I lost eight horses, and they ate me threescore bushels of oats.'

Poor Peter was not yet at the end of his troubles, for when the war was

over he had to pay five hundred pounds in order to buy back his own

property, for the estates of the Royalists were confiscated by

Parliament and sold back to their owners for large sums of money.

The empty niches over the porches of many Cheshire churches tell their

own tale of the damage done by the Cromwellian troops. Sculptured images

were everywhere broken in fragments, lead was stripped from the fonts

and roofs to be turned into bullets. The pipes were taken from the organ

of Budworth Church, and the stained glass windows of Tarvin destroyed by

the Puritan fanatic, John Bruen. The sacred buildings themselves were

used throughout the war as barracks, fortresses, stables, or prisons.

The destruction of property and of works of art that can never be

replaced was indeed largely the work of the Roundheads; but it was the

Royalists who perpetrated the blackest deed in this long tale of civil

strife. In the winter of 1643 Lord Byron's troopers were plundering the

villages of South Cheshire, burning farms and homesteads, and driving

the country people before them. One of his officers, Major Connought,

entered the village of Barthomley, and many of the panic-stricken

inhabitants took refuge in the tower of the church. Connought and his

brutal followers broke up the pews, gathered together the mats and

rushes strewn upon the floor, and made a bonfire at the entrance to the

tower. Forced from their place of refuge by fire and smoke, the

unfortunate villagers were stabbed and hacked to death as they came out

one by one. This was their Christmastide, the season of peace and good

fellowship and brotherly love, and men, blind with the lust of blood,

were cutting the throats of their brothers as if they were sheep in the

shambles. Happily, such scenes as this were rare, even in those dark

years.

Cheshire · 第 25 / 36 章