Hitherto, since his marriage, Lord Strange had spent his time almost entirely upon his estates, devoting himself to the welfare of his own people and tenantry, and enjoying the pleasures of a country life and the interchange of stately though simple hospitalities. Of Lady Strange, little is recorded during these years. “Happy,” says the old axiom, “are the people who have no history.” The daily events in the life of this great lady, in whom discreetness and simplicity are such leading characteristics, were as the ripples upon a calm ocean, upon whose horizon for a long time little clouds scarce bigger than a man’s hand threatened. Suddenly, after fifteen years of this comparative peace and tranquillity, the clouds gathered thick, lowering till the storm broke upon the Buckinghamshire plains. The Parliamentarians were commanded by Lord Essex. Southwards lay the vale of the Red Horse, the famous charger cut into the red rock in memory of that ancestral kinsman of Lord Strange, who killed his horse, vowing to share the perils of the meanest of his soldiers. The Puritans called this figure “the Red Horse of the Lord, which He caused to ride about furiously to the ruin of the enemy.” Above the village of Radway, the King’s tent was pitched in the midst of his redcoats. The royal standard, borne by Sir Edmund Verney, floated in the morning breeze. The position of the Royal army was very strong, and, had it remained to await the attack of the enemy, complete victory for the King could hardly have been doubtful; but in spite of brave old Lord Lindsay’s counsel, the King consented to the pushing forward of his impatient soldiers, and met the attack half way. The King rode along in front of his troops, clad as Vandyck has presented him, a stately figure in full armour, with the ribbon of the Garter across his breastplate, and its star on his mantle of black velvet. In his tent he addressed his principal officers: “If this day shine prosperous for us, we shall all be happy in a glorious victory. Your King is both your cause, your quarrel, and your captain. The foe is in sight. The best encouragement I can give you is this: that come life or death, your King will bear you company, and ever keep this field, this place, and this day’s service in his grateful remembrance.” Major-General Sir Jacob Astley’s prayer is as memorable: “O Lord, Thou knowest how busy I must be this day. If I forget Thee, do not Thou forget me.... March on, boys.”