go down to Cambridge, and raise two companies of volunteers-offering to give, himself, £100, towards defraying the expenses. Here was high treason at the outset, and if the king should conquer, loss of life would follow; but he had taken his course, and not all the kings in the world could turn him aside. Oxford sent its plate to the king, to be melted down for royal use; and Cambridge was about to follow its example, when Cromwell, hearing of it, hastened thither, and summoning his train-bands, prevented it.

THE KING ERECTS HIS STANDARD.

This was August 15th, and eight days after, the king erected the royal standard at Nottingham, and called his subjects to rally around it. It was just at evening-the sky was dark and gloomy, and the wind swept by in gusts-when Charles rode out to a hill that overlooked the town, accompanied by eight hundred horse, and a few militia, and ordered his proclamation to be read. The trumpets then sounded, and the standard, bearing the motto, "Render unto Cæsar the things that are Cæsar's," was hoisted to the top of the castle, and hailed with acclamations of "God save the king!" The next day, however, the wind blew it down. Charles was angry that such an untoward accident should occur at the outset, and commanded the heralds to plant it outside the castle, in the open ground. This they attempted to do; but the soil was rocky, and resisted all their efforts to sink the flag-staff in it. They then en

1642.] THE ARMIES TAKE THE FIELD.

55

deavored to dig a hole with their dagger-points, but for several hours were compelled to hold the standard in their hands. The spectators regarded it as a bad omen, and went away filled with gloomy anticipations.

At length, however, a royal army of 12,000 men was raised, and the cavalry placed under the bold and brutal Prince Rupert, the king's nephew. The parliament had succeeded, also, in bringing into the field 20,000 infantry, and 4,500 horse, and given the command to the Earl of Essex. The cavalry was divided into seventyfive squadrons, each composed of sixty horse. Over one of these Cromwell was appointed captain. His son Oliver was also cornet in the squadron under the Earl of Bedford. Thus, father and son went forth together, to offer up their lives for their country.

The parliamentary force assembled at Northampton, and the nation looked forward, with breathless anxiety, to the first encounter of the people with their king. The country around no longer wore its peaceful look. Troops of horse were seen crossing it in every direction to the place of rendezvous; and the blast of the bugle, and roll of the drum, and tread of marching men, sent terror through the quiet villages and rural districts of England. They came pouring in from every quarter, and when all were assembled, that army of nearly 25,000 men, presented a formidable array against King Charles and his cavaliers.

After lying some time at Northampton, Essex at length got in motion, and moving by easy marches, arrived, on the 23d of September, at Worcester, within a

few leagues of the royal forces. Here he halted for three weeks, as if his sole business was to wait the king's pleasure. Charles, seeing the dilatoriness of his antagonist, resolved to march at once on London, and finish the war by a single stroke. He immediately put his troops in motion, and got three days' march ahead, before Essex seemed to wake from his lethargy. Being at last roused by the pressing danger of parliament and London, he commenced the pursuit. But in the meantime the greatest alarm prevailed in the city. Every hour the hostile army was drawing nearer, while the forces of Essex were nowhere to be seen. The parlia ment, however, instead of being terror-struck, aroused the people to resistance. All who had not voluntarily subscribed to the support of the army were immediately taxed, and those who refused to pay hurried off to prison. The disaffected were deprived of arms; every stable in and about the town was forced to yield its complement of horses, and squadrons of horse sprung like magic into existence. Fortifications were hastily thrown up, barricades erected, and chains strung across the streets. A lofty enthusiasm had taken the place of fear; and women were seen plying the spade, and working at the fortifications-even young children toiled on beside their mothers; and delicate hands vied with each. other in the patriotic work. All day long the streets echoed with the heavy blows of workmen, and tread of marching men; and everything foretold a bloody

resistance.

But while London was in this state of excitement, not

1642.]

BATTLE OF

EDGEHILL.

57

far off, in Warwickshire, the first act of the great tra

gedy had begun.

BATTLE OF EDGEHILL.

Essex, leaving behind him several of his regiments, and among them that of Hampden, and a part of his artillery, pressed on after the king. For ten days the rear of the royal columns and the van of Essex's were only a few leagues apart, yet in mutual ignorance of each other's movements. At length the latter overtook the king near Keynton, and formed his troops at the foot of an eminence called Edgehill. Charles immediately turned on his pursuers; and on the 23d of October the two armies drew up in front of each other in battle array. It was Sunday, and many of the Puritan officers were on their way to church, when messengers, galloping along the road, called them back to the field. It is a curious fact, that the Puritans preferred the Sabbath above all other days on which to fight their battles. This shows how sacred they viewed their cause, and how certain they were of the smile of heaven.

During the whole forenoon the different commanders were busy in arranging the order of battle. Here the squadrons of cavalry stood in shining ranks, their helmets glittering in the noon-day sun-and there moved the dark masses of infantry. About two in the afternoon the long roll of the drum was heard, and the solid ranks began to advance. The artillery opened its fire, the infantry went pouring to the charge with deaf

ening shouts, and that green spot in Warwickshire was wrapt in clouds of smoke, and shook to the tread of nearly forty thousand men. At length the bugles rang along the hitherto silent squadrons of the parliamentary cavalry, and the long lines of helmets rose and fell as the steel-clad mass went hurrying forward. But at this critical moment a colonel, Sir Faithful Fortescue, separated himself with his regiment from the parliamentary force, and spurred across to the lines of the royalists. This defection, at the moment when the charge was to be made, paralyzed the advancing squadrons, and broke the shock; for they did not know how many more regiments would follow this dastardly example, and desert in the very crisis of the conflict. Prince Rupert, however, and his fierce horsemen, hailed the desertion with shouts of applause the next moment their bugles rang cheerily out, and they burst on the disheartened cavalry with such fury that the ranks of the latter were broken in the first onset, and the whole four thousand became a herd of fugitives, driving over the country-sabred down at every step by their relentless pursuers. Leaving the army to take care of itself, Prince Rupert and his men, intent only on slaughter and pillage, followed after the flying cavalry chasing them for two miles along the road—and were stopped at last only by the columns of Hampden, hastening to the battle-field. The latter bringing his artillery to the front, and forming his men in close order, soon sent the headlong cavalier back.

But while he had been following up his victory, the tide of battle had turned against the king. Undismayed