“We are beaten!” cried Philip Lisle. “See, Manchester has broken through our foot and is pursuing them. Confusion! we shall lose the day without doubt.”
“Look out, look out!” said Jack. “The Ironsides are on us again in new force. They ride like a whirlwind.”
And like a whirlwind they did ride, destroying all that came in their way. Flanked by the Scotch Horse under General Leslie, they rode through us, sweeping our companies away like chaff before the storm. Many men lost heart and turned and fled before that awful onslaught. For myself, I felt my heart like to burst with grief and rage, and would have ridden amongst the enemy to kill some half-dozen of them before I was killed myself, but Jack seized my bridle and steered his horse and mine through the mass of our own men, who had turned tail and were flying towards York.
“ ’Tis all over there, man!” he cried, as I strove to detach my reins from his grasp. “Let us where we shall be of some use. See, our left wing hath put the enemy to flight.”
And, indeed, what had happened to our right wing was equally happening to the enemy’s right, for Colonel Hurry had prevailed against them. At the beginning of the fight the Parliamentary troops under Sir Thomas Fairfax and Colonel Lambert were defeated, though Sir Thomas himself had fought his way with five or six troops through the Royalist army to his own left. And the brigade under Lord Fairfax, having given way, was further hampered by the cowardice of some newly-raised regiments under Sir Thomas, which, being panic-stricken, turned and fled in confusion on the troops in their rear, whom they threw into disorder and trampled underfoot. The right wing of the rebels thereupon broke up and fled for miles across country in the direction of Tadcaster and Cawood, crying as they went that all was lost. And so infectious was this panic that the other Parliamentary troops under Generals Manchester, Lever, and Fairfax gave way also, and were preparing to quit the field, when a sudden turn of fortune changed matters altogether.
For while our left wing was sweeping away the Parliamentary right, Cromwell came back from his pursuit of our right, and seeing the state of affairs, made haste to repair the damage. Sir Thomas Fairfax at the same moment rallied his horse, and Manchester’s foot, returning from the chase of our troopers, got into order with the other two divisions and came on again to attack our left wing, which by that time had pursued the Parliamentary right as far as the baggage wagons. So here was the battle to be fought over again, just when each side thought it won, our left having been victorious while our right was defeated, and the same thing having happened to the other side.
Now, Philip and Jack and I had wheeled away with several others when the Ironsides broke our ranks, and had gone over to our victorious left, so that when the rebels under Cromwell and Fairfax came on again to meet us, we fell in with a troop of horse and prepared to contest the matter once more. A fierce and terrible contest it would doubtless be, though there could hardly be more bloodshed, I thought, than had already taken place. For as we rode across the field, it was indeed pitiable to see the sights which met our eyes in every direction. Roundhead and Cavalier alike lay on the ground, dying or dead. Here a poor wretch implored us as we passed to dismount and put him out of his misery; there another with eyes starting from their sockets begged us to find him a drink of water. The dead lay in heaps in some places where the charge had been thickest.
Here and there the ground was literally torn up as if by the plough, and a hedge of dead and wounded on each side bore witness to where the cavalry had charged along and carried all before them. Horses, riderless, were galloping over the moor, some towards York and some towards Tadcaster, while others, apparently unconscious of the dreadful surroundings, cropped the herbage where it had not been trampled into waste. Over the whole field a mist of smoke seemed to hang, and far away in the twilight the great towers of York Minster rose towards heaven as if in witness against the scenes of violence on earth.
Neither Philip nor Jack nor I had come through the earlier part of the fight unscathed, for my arm was cut in a nasty manner and bled more than I liked, and Jack’s face was covered with blood from the wound in his cheek, while Philip had received a slash across the thick part of his sword-arm, which was fortunately not deep in extent. Nevertheless we went into the fight again side by side, resolved to do what lay in us to win the day for the King.
Now, that fight in the fast-falling shadows was twice more fierce and bloody than even the hot business of the afternoon had been. Our men fought well and bravely; yea, as the Prince himself said next day, no army could
