"We had been at work all day, but at that hour we had two bridges over the Severn, and Cromwell with half the army passed over them to the west side of the city. He rode in front, and was the first man to cross. Pitscottie’s Highlandmen were waiting for him, and he drove them at push of pike from hedge to hedge till they were cut to pieces, every man’s son of them, one on the heels of the other. And when Charles Stuart saw this battle raging on the west side of the river, he attacked the troops that had been left with Lambert on the east side. Right glad was Lambert, and ’tis said that the Stuart behaved very gallantly and broke a regiment of militia; and the troops, being mostly volunteers, began to waver. But Cromwell saw this new attack at once, and he and Desborough and Cobbett came rattling over the bridges of boats. No dismay when Cromwell was there! His voice and presence meant victory! The malignants, with their Scotch allies, retreated before him into Worcester streets, Cromwell’s men after them pell-mell. Women, it was then hell let loose, for by this time it was nearly dark, and the narrow streets were lit only by the flashes of the great and small shot. Cromwell rode up and down them, in the midst of the fire; he took Fort Royal from the enemy, and with his own hands fired its guns upon them as they fled hither and thither, they knew not, in their terror and despair, where. Every street in Worcester was full of fire and blood, the rattle of artillery, the shouts of our captains, the shrieks of the dying. All night the sack of the city went on. It was a tenfold Drogheda, and ever since, by day and night, Lambert has been following the flying enemy, hunting and slaying them in every highway and hiding-place. Oh, indeed, the faces of our foes have been brought down to earth and their mouths filled with dust; and rightly so. No one will ever know the number slain, and we have ten thousand prisoners." "Was such cruelty necessary?" asked Mrs. Swaffham. "War is cruel, Martha; a battle would not be a battle unless it was cruel—furiously cruel. What is the use of striking soft in battle? The work is to do over again. A cruel war is in the end a merciful war." "It is said Charles Stuart is slain." "I don’t believe that report, it has been spread by his friends to favour his escape. At first he was distracted, and went about asking some one to slay him; but he was seen afterwards beyond the gates of Worcester, moving eastward with a number of his adherents. David Leslie may be slain. I saw him riding slowly up and down like a man who had lost his senses. I could have shot him easily—but I did not." "Thank God, Doctor!"