CHAPTER X

THE SECOND CIVIL WAR

1648

The Second Civil War broke out in Wales. It began with a revolt of

officers and soldiers who had fought zealously for the Parliament

throughout the first war. In February, 1648, Colonel Poyer, the governor

of Pembroke Castle, refused to hand his charge over to the officer whom

Fairfax had appointed to succeed him. In March, he openly declared for

the King, and the troops of Colonel Laugharne, followed soon afterwards

by their leader, joined Poyer’s forces. In April, it became known in

London that the Scots were raising an army to invade England, and at the

end of the month parties of English Royalists, by Scottish help, seized

Berwick and Carlisle. To meet these two dangers Fairfax sent Cromwell to

suppress the Welsh insurgents and prepared to march north himself

against the Scots.

At the beginning of May, Cromwell left London, taking with him two

regiments of horse and three of foot. Poyer was full of confidence. He

had won several small victories, and told his men that he would meet

Cromwell in fair field, and that he would be himself the first man to

charge “Ironsides,” adding that if Cromwell “had a back of steel and a

breast of iron, he durst and would encounter with him.” But before

Cromwell reached Wales, Colonel Horton defeated the boastful Poyer at

St. Fagans, on May 8th, and when Cromwell arrived the war became a war

of sieges. Chepstow was stormed by Colonel Ewer on May 25th, and Tenby

surrendered to Colonel Horton at the end of May, but Pembroke Castle

held out for over six weeks. Its walls were strong and its garrison

desperate. Cromwell had no heavy artillery with him, and though he

“scraped up,” as he said, a few little guns, and made a breach, his

assaults were repulsed with loss. The hostility of the country people

and want of provisions added to the difficulties of the besiegers. “It’s

a mercy,” wrote Cromwell to Fairfax, “that we have been able to keep our

men together in such necessity, the sustenance of the foot for the most

part being bread and water.” The besieged, however, were in worse

straits, and at last, on the 11th of July, starvation forced Poyer and

Laugharne “to surrender themselves to the mercy of the Parliament” and

give up town and castle.

Three days before Pembroke fell, Hamilton and the Scottish army crossed

the border, and Fairfax was not there to face them. London was seething

with discontent: there were riots in the city and in the eastern

counties, and mass petitions from Essex, Kent, and Surrey urged

Parliament to come to terms with the King and to disband the army. At

the end of May a royalist rising broke out in Kent, and the fleet in the

Downs declared for the King.

[Illustration:

PEMBROKE CASTLE.

(_From a photograph._)

]

Fairfax collected eight or nine thousand men and set out for Kent. On

June 1st, he forced his way into Maidstone, where the main body of the

Kentish Royalists had posted themselves, and, after hard fighting in the

barricaded streets, mastered the town, and broke up the insurgent army.

A part of them, under old Lord Norwich, marched towards London, but

found the city gates closed against them, and dispersed. Norwich

himself, with five or six hundred horse, crossed the Thames, and called

the Royalists of Essex to arms. Ere long four thousand men gathered

round him, and Fairfax, leaving detachments to complete the subjugation

of Kent, hurried to Essex to suppress this new rising. Norwich threw

himself into Colchester, and a bloody battle took place in the suburbs,

in which the raw levies of the Royalists repulsed Fairfax’s veterans

with great loss. The parliamentary general, seeing that he could not

carry the town by a _coup de main_, was obliged to sit down to a regular

siege, which ultimately developed into a blockade. Forts were built

round Colchester, and connected by lines of intrenchments, to cut off

all supplies and prevent any escape. The militia of Suffolk and Essex

swelled Fairfax’s small force of regulars and completed the investment.

The besieged fought well and made vigorous sallies, but unless help came

from without the end was inevitable. When the siege began, such relief

seemed very probable. All over England little local risings were

incessantly breaking out which threatened to become general unless they

were at once suppressed. In June, there were risings in North Wales,

Northamptonshire, and Nottinghamshire. At the beginning of July, Lord

Holland and the young Duke of Buckingham gathered about six hundred

Cavaliers at Kingston in the hope of relieving Colchester. But they were

hunted from place to place by Fairfax’s cavalry, and could never stay

long enough anywhere to collect their partisans. The few who kept

together were captured at St. Neots, in Huntingdonshire, on July 10th.

At the end of July, Prince Charles and the revolted ships blockaded the

Thames, hoping to persuade London to declare for the King by threatening

its trade. But a fleet alone could not relieve Colchester, for Fairfax

had occupied Mersea Island and cut off the town from the sea. Moreover,

London remained quiet, for, though strongly Presbyterian in feeling, it

had no desire to see the King restored unconditionally. The only hope of

the besieged lay in the advance of Hamilton and the Scottish army.

In the north of England the Parliament had no force afoot strong enough

to stop the Scots from marching southwards. Major-General Lambert, the

commander-in-chief in the northern counties, with three or four

regiments of regular horse and the local levies of Yorkshire and

Lancashire, more than held his own against the English Royalists under

Langdale and Musgrave, defeating them in the field and reducing the

garrison of Carlisle to extremities. But when Hamilton advanced to

relieve his allies, Lambert could only fall back, stubbornly

skirmishing, into north Yorkshire, leaving the Scots to overrun

Cumberland and the north. He, too, was hampered by risings in his rear,

for early in June Pontefract Castle had been surprised by the Royalists,

and later in the month Scarborough had declared for the King. On the 8th

of July, when Hamilton entered England, he brought with him no more than

ten thousand or eleven thousand men, but additional forces followed

later, and including the English Royalists under Langdale and Musgrave

he had, by the next month, about twenty-four thousand men under his

command. He marched slowly in order to give time for his reinforcements

to come up, and spent some time in besieging Appleby and other northern

castles. It was only about the middle of August that he resumed his

advance and determined to push south through Lancashire.

Meanwhile, Cromwell was hurrying north to Lambert’s aid. Even before

Pembroke fell he had sent a portion of his horse northwards. As soon as

it surrendered, he set out at once with the rest of his horse and the

infantry. His men had not been paid for months, but his iron discipline

kept them from plundering. The most part of his foot were shoeless and

in rags, but boots were provided to meet them at Leicester. Marching by

way of Gloucester and through the midlands, Cromwell reached Leicester

on August 1st, Nottingham on August 5th, and joined Lambert near

Knaresborough in the West Riding on Saturday, August 12th. Some

regiments had to be left to besiege Pontefract and Scarborough, so that

their united forces came to no more than about eight thousand five

hundred men, of whom about three thousand were horse. But three quarters

of this army were old soldiers, and, as one of Cromwell’s officers

wrote, it was “a fine, smart army, fit for action.”

Cromwell had hitherto been under the impression that the Scots intended

to advance through Yorkshire, and, relieving Pontefract on their way, to

march straight for London. He now learnt that Hamilton had chosen the

Lancashire route, and was already on his way through that county.

Accordingly, on Sunday, August 13th, he set out to cross the hills which

separate Lancashire from Yorkshire, and to attack the invaders. On

Monday night, he quartered at Skipton; on Tuesday night, at Gisburn. On

Wednesday, he marched down the valley of the Ribble into Lancashire. Two

courses were now open to him. He might cross by Hodder Bridge to the

southern bank of the Ribble, and seek to bar Hamilton’s advance

southwards by placing himself somewhere in his path; or he might keep

along the northern bank of the river and engage Hamilton somewhere near

Preston itself. Cromwell chose the second course, and he did so with a

full consciousness of the importance of the choice. “It was thought,” he

wrote, “that to engage the enemy to fight was our business,” and to

march straight upon Preston was more likely to bring about a battle

because it seemed probable that Hamilton would stand his ground there.

There was also a second reason. If he put himself to the south of

Hamilton, a defeat would throw Hamilton back upon his supports in

Westmoreland and on the road to Scotland. If he defeated Hamilton at

Preston, he might be able to drive him southwards, separating him from

his supports, and cutting off his line of retreat. Under such

circumstances, a defeat would lead to the annihilation of the Scottish

army instead of merely forcing it to retire to Scotland. It was for

these reasons, and not by any happy accident, that Cromwell adopted the

second plan. As he explained a couple of years later, “Upon deliberate

advice we chose rather to put ourselves between their army and

Scotland.” All Wednesday, therefore, he continued his march down the

northern bank of the Ribble, and camped his army for the night at

Stonyhurst, about nine miles from Preston.

[Illustration:

MAP

to illustrate

THE PRESTON CAMPAIGN.

_B. V. Darbishire, Oxford 1899._

]

Meanwhile, Hamilton’s army was marching through Lancashire as carelessly

and loosely as if Cromwell were fifty miles away. Hamilton himself, with

ten thousand foot and perhaps fifteen hundred horse, was at Preston. The

Earl of Callendar and General Middleton, with the bulk of the Scottish

horse, were at Wigan, fifteen miles ahead of the infantry, while thirty

miles in the rear, at Kirby Lonsdale, in Westmoreland, lay Major-General

Monro, with about three thousand veteran horse and foot drawn from the

Scottish army in Ulster, and two or three thousand English Royalists

under Sir Philip Musgrave. Between Cromwell and Preston, covering

Hamilton’s flank, was Sir Marmaduke Langdale’s division of English

Royalists, numbering three thousand foot and six hundred horse. Hamilton

had been warned of the enemy’s approach by Langdale, but discredited his

information, and believed he was threatened merely by some Lancashire

militia forces.

Early on Thursday, the 17th of August, Cromwell fell upon Langdale’s

division with tremendous vigour, and beating his foot from hedge to

hedge drove them towards Preston. Langdale sent pressing appeals to

Hamilton, but the Duke gave him no adequate support. Instead of helping

him, he drew the Scottish foot out of Preston and to the south of the

Ribble, in order to facilitate their junction with the cavalry at Wigan.

To defend Preston, he kept merely a couple of brigades of foot, and the

fifteen hundred or sixteen hundred horse of his rearguard. Against

forces so divided, Cromwell’s attack was irresistible. At nightfall on

Thursday, Preston was in his possession, and not only the town but the

bridge over the Ribble, and the second bridge over the Darwen, a mile or

so to the south of it. His whole army was solidly planted between

Hamilton and Scotland. Langdale’s division had ceased to exist, and of

Hamilton’s two brigades of foot hardly a man had escaped. A thousand had

fallen in the fight, Cromwell had four thousand prisoners, and his

cavalry had chased Hamilton’s flying horse ten miles on the road to

Lancaster.

In the Scottish camp there was great distraction and depression.

Hamilton’s forces were still superior in number to Cromwell’s, for he

had six or seven thousand foot on the south side of the river, who had

scarcely fired a shot, besides Middleton and the vanguard of cavalry at

Wigan. But the Duke, who had shown plenty of personal courage, was weak

and irresolute in council. Major-General Baillie, who commanded his

foot, urged him to make a stand where he was until Middleton and the

horse rejoined them. The Earl of Callendar, Hamilton’s second in

command, proposed that the foot should march away as soon as it was

dark, to join Middleton, and Callendar’s proposal was accepted. It

involved the abandonment of Hamilton’s train, for they had no horses

left to draw the waggons; and all the ammunition except what the men

carried in their flasks fell into Cromwell’s hands. All night the

Scottish infantry marched. “Our march,” says one of them, “was very sad,

the way being exceeding deep, the soldiers both wet, hungry, and weary,

and all looked on their business as half ruined.” They had lost many

stragglers when they arrived at Wigan. On Friday morning, Cromwell,

leaving the Lancashire militia to guard Preston and his prisoners, set

out in pursuit of Hamilton with three thousand foot and twenty-five

hundred horse. The fighting on Friday was mainly between the horse of

the two armies. While the Scottish infantry were marching to Wigan to

join Middleton, Middleton was marching to Preston to join them, and as

he went by a different road they failed to meet. On reaching the camp of

the infantry, he found nothing but deserted fires and a few stragglers,

and turned back to follow Hamilton’s track to Wigan. Cromwell’s horsemen

were at his heels all the way, “killing and taking divers,” though

Colonel Thornhaugh, who commanded Cromwell’s van, was killed by a

Scottish lancer.

Hamilton’s army, when the horse joined, drew up on the moor, north of

Wigan, as if to give battle, but, judging the ground disadvantageous,

Hamilton retreated into the town before Cromwell came up. “We lay that

night in the field,” says Cromwell, “close by the enemy, being very

dirty and weary, and having marched twelve miles of such ground as I

never rode in my life, the day being very wet.” There was no rest,

however, for the Scots in Wigan. Their commanders resolved to make

another night march to Warrington, intending to break down the bridge,

and put the Mersey between themselves and their pursuer. On Saturday,

Cromwell’s cavalry found the Scottish foot posted in a good position at

Winwick, about three miles from Warrington.

“We held them in dispute,” wrote Cromwell, “till our army came up,

they maintaining the pass with great resolution for many hours, ours

and theirs coming to push of pike and very close charges, which

forced us to give ground; but our men by the blessing of God quickly

recovered it, and charging very home upon them, beat them from their

standing. We killed about a thousand of them, and took, as we

believe, about two thousand prisoners.”

This was the last stand the Scots made. When Cromwell reached Warrington

the same Saturday evening, General Baillie and the rest of the Scottish

infantry surrendered as prisoners of war. Hamilton and Callendar, with

two or three thousand horse escaped into Cheshire, intending to join

Lord Byron who was in arms for the King, but their fate was not long

delayed. Cromwell sent Lambert with four regiments of horse in pursuit,

and called on the neighbouring counties to send all the horses they

could muster after the fugitives.

“They are so tired, and in such confusion, that if my horse could

but trot after them I could take them all. But we are so weary we

can scarce be able to do more than walk after them. My horse are

miserably beaten out—and I have ten thousand of them prisoners.”

Skirmishing incessantly with the country people and the local militia,

Hamilton made his way as far as Staffordshire, party after party of his

followers dropping off by the way, either to surrender or to escape in

disguise. With the few who remained, he capitulated to Lambert at

Uttoxeter, on Friday, August 25th. On the Monday following, Colchester

surrendered to Fairfax, and the Second Civil War was practically over.

After the capitulation at Warrington, Cromwell turned northwards again

as soon as his soldiers could march. Monro and his six thousand men were

still undisposed of, and he feared an attack from them upon the forces

left at Preston. Colonel Ashton, who commanded at Preston, had under his

charge prisoners more in number than his troops, and like Henry V. at

Agincourt Cromwell had ordered Ashton to put the prisoners to the sword

if he were attacked. But nothing was farther from Monro’s mind than an

advance. On the news of the defeat at Preston, he retreated at once,

marched through Durham, and re-entered Scotland. Garrisons were left in

Berwick and Carlisle, which Cromwell summoned as soon as he came up, and

when they refused to surrender he made a formal application to the

Scottish Committee of Estates for their restoration. To give force to

his demand he marched his army across the Tweed, protesting at the same

time that he had no quarrel with the Scottish nation. If he entered

Scotland it was simply to overthrow the faction which had instigated the

late invasion.

“We are so far from seeking the harm of the well affected people of

Scotland, that we profess as before the Lord, that we shall use our

endeavours to the utmost that the trouble may fall upon the

contrivers and authors of this breach, and not upon the poor

innocent people, who have been led and compelled into this action,

as many poor souls now prisoners to us confess.”

A revolution in Scotland facilitated Cromwell’s policy. The rigid

Presbyterians of the west country, who abhorred any union with

Episcopalians and Malignants, and cared more for the Kirk than the

Crown, had risen in arms and seized Edinburgh. Argyle and his

Highlanders backed them, and on September 26th the Hamiltonian faction,

who formed the Committee of Estates, agreed to send Monro’s force back

to Ireland, to disband their men, and to give up power to their rivals.

Argyle’s party was only too glad to come to terms with Cromwell, and to

procure the support of his army against their opponents, till they could

organise a substantial force of their own. Orders were sent for the

immediate surrender of Carlisle and Berwick, and Cromwell came to

Edinburgh to treat with Argyle. “Give assurance,” demanded Cromwell,

“that you will not admit or suffer any that have been active in or

consenting to the engagement against England, to be employed in any

public place or trust whatsoever. This is the least security I can

demand.” There was nothing the rival faction would more willingly do,

and by an Act of the Scottish Parliament “the Engagers,” as Hamilton’s

partisans were called, were permanently excluded from political power.

Cromwell left three regiments in Scotland for a few weeks to secure the

new government, and returned with the bulk of his army to England.

Scarborough and Pontefract still remained to be captured, but the Second

Civil War was over. Some of Cromwell’s friends amongst the Independent

leaders blamed his agreement with Argyle, and saw no security for

England in the predominance of a bigoted Presbyterian faction at

Edinburgh. They thought that Cromwell should either have exacted more

substantial guarantees for future peace, or divided power between the

two parties, so that they would balance each other, and be incapable of

injuring England. Cromwell answered that the one hope of future peace

between the two nations lay in creating a good understanding between

English Independents and Scotch Presbyterians, and that he had taken the

only course which could produce it.

“I desire from my heart—I have prayed for—I have waited for the day

to see—union and right understanding between the godly people—Scots,

English, Jews, Gentiles, Presbyterians, Anabaptists, and all. Our

brothers of Scotland—sincerely Presbyterians—were our greatest

enemies. God hath justified us in their sight—caused us to requite

good for evil—caused them to acknowledge it publicly by acts of

State and privately, and the thing is true in the sight of the

Sun.... Was it not fit to be civil, to profess love, to deal with

clearness with them for the removing of prejudices; to ask them what

they had against us, and to give them an honest answer? This we have

done and no more: and herein is a more glorious work in our eyes

than if we had gotten the sacking and plunder of Edinburgh, the

strong castle, into our hands, and made a conquest from the Tweed to

the Orcades; and we can say, through God, we have left such a

witness amongst them, as, if it work not yet, by reason the poor

souls are so wedded to their Church government, yet there is that

conviction upon them that will undoubtedly have its fruit in due

time.”

He came back to England with the confident hope that peace with Scotland

was henceforth secure.

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

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