Great Britain -- History -- Charles I, 1625-1649 -- Fiction
It was the wind up of a series of sanguinary engagements with the
Marquis of Hertford and Prince Maurice, commencing with an encounter on
the low-wooded bottom between Tog and Friznoll hills, so hotly contested
that veterans there engaged, who had gone through all the Low Country
and German campaigns, declared the most furious fights they ever had
abroad were but sport to it.
Carried up to the adjacent height of Lansdown, from which, after another
fierce conflict, the Parliamentarians were forced to retire, the two
armies--what remained of them--again came face to face on the elevated
plateau of Roundway Down; the final scene of the struggle and Waller's
discomfiture.
Hesselrig's Cuirassiers had especially suffered. With ranks broken, and
many of them unhorsed, they were all but helpless in their unwieldy
armour, and scores got tumbled over the cliffs of the Down. Of a
well-appointed regiment, over five hundred strong, which but a few days
before had filed out through the gates of Bristol, only this straggling
troop--less than a fifth of the force, still kept the saddle.
Waller was himself along with it--for the "Lobsters" formed his
body-guard--so too Hesselrig, severely wounded. Crestfallen both--it
could not be otherwise--but with no cowed or craven look. The blood
upon their gauntlets and sword-hilts, on their blades still unwiped,
told both had been where cowards would not be--in the thick of the
fight. Only to superior numbers had they yielded, and were now retiring
sullenly as disabled lions. If they rode hard and fast it was through
the urgency of their followers, who feared pursuit behind with the
fiendish cry, "No Quarter!"
Morn was just dawning as the retreating troop caught sight of Bristol's
towers--glad to their eyes, giving promise of refuge and rest. This
last they needed as much as the first. For days and nights they had
scarce ever been out of the saddle; looked wan for the want of sleep,
and were weak from fatigue and hunger. Their horses blown and
dead-beat, many of them staggering in their gait. No wonder the sight
of that city was welcome to them.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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