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.

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.

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.