The surrender of Beeston was a great blow to the revolutionary cause. The neighbouring country now lay at the mercy of Lord Byron and the Royalist troops, who ravaged the entire district. Crewe Hall capitulated; the halls of Dorfold and Doddington surrendered without offering any resistance; Middlewich was captured, and on the 17th January, 1644, an assault was made on Nantwich, when, after some busy days of hard fighting, Captain Sandford met a soldier’s death, within a day or two of that on which poor Steel was led out to execution. The siege continued for more than a week, when Fairfax, fresh from his victories in Yorkshire, with Colonel Monk, who afterwards played so prominent a part in bringing about the Restoration, came to the relief of the beleaguered town, and the Royalists gave way to superior numbers. They were, however, left in undisturbed possession of Beeston until the 20th October following, when “the council of war at Nantwich hearing that the enemy at Beeston were in want of fuel and other necessaries layed strong siege to it.” For nearly five months the siege was continued, when Prince Rupert and Prince Maurice arrived with a considerable force, relieved the invested garrison on the 17th March, and two days later plundered Bunbury and burnt Beeston Hall. Scarcely had they departed than, as we learn from the “Diary,” the Puritan soldiers again appeared:— 1645, April.—The Parliament again placed forces round Beeston Castle, where they began to raise a brave mount with a strong ditch about it, and placed great buildings thereon, which were scarce finished but news came that the king and both the princes (Maurice and Rupert) with a strong army were coming towards Chester. The Parliament army marched towards Nantwich, leaving the country to the spoils of the forces in Chester and Beeston Castle. The garrison thus relieved sallied out on the 4th June, and made an unsuccessful attack on Ridley Hall. Ten days after came the disastrous defeat at Naseby, which put the Parliamentarians in possession of nearly all the chief cities of the kingdom. Three anxious months passed, and then (September 24th, 1645), the unhappy monarch, standing upon the leads of the Phœnix Tower on Chester walls, witnessed the fluctuating progress of the last effort on Rowton Moor for the maintenance of the Royal power, saw his gallant kinsman, the Earl of Lichfield, with many gentlemen besides, fall dead at his feet, and all that had hitherto survived of his broken remnant of a host either taken prisoners or driven in headlong rout and ruin from the fatal field. “Thenceforth the king’s sword was a useless bauble, less significant than the ‘George’ upon his breast.” [Illustration: THE PHŒNIX TOWER, CHESTER.]