Prince

The battle had now fairly begun. Rupert and his men were about to charge, when a most unexpected event took place. A whole troop of the enemy's cavalry, firing their pistols into the ground, dashed into the centre of the Royalists, and requested permission to serve their King. It was Sir Faithful Fortescue and all his men, who, animated by one spirit, took this bold and decisive step. Unfortunately, some of them had omitted to take off their orange scarves, and they were slain by the Royalists, who mistook them for real enemies.

It

If anything were wanting to give spirit to Rupert's troop, this encouragement must have done it. The order to charge rang down the line, and they swept forward like a torrent. was again the same fiery rush as they had made at Worcester, followed again by the same magical result. Men and horses, infantry and cavalry, fled away before the dreaded Prince, who seemed to bear a charmed life as he spurred forward on his charger.

This was all very brave and brilliant. But Rupert, in his excitement, carried the pursuit too far. For the distance of two miles he followed the runaways, and never reflected on what might be the state of the battlefield behind him. The rest of the royal cavalry, thinking the day already gained, dashed after him, refusing to listen to any cooler advice. And thus the King was left alone with his foot-soldiers on the field.

The enemy soon took advantage of this mistake. There was a reserve of cavalry belonging to Essex, which had not been in the way of Ru

pert's fearful charge, and they now pressed forward upon the few remaining Royalists. For some time Charles and his children were in sore danger, as the battle raged close round them. Lord Lindesay fell in this engagement, and was borne from the field a prisoner, badly wounded. His son, who would not leave him, was made prisoner too. The rebels at length reached the royal standard, and a desperate struggle took place around it. It fell at last, brave Sir Ralph Varney having been slain in his effort to hold it. If Rupert and his men had but been at hand just then, this bitterness and loss might have been spared the unhappy Charles.

The King's friends now besought him to fly from the field, but he firmly refused to do so. He was determined, while any hope remained, not to leave his standard in the hands of the rebels. Numbers of soldiers offered their services to rescue it, and some of them, disguising themselves in orange scarves, actually made their way into the midst of the enemy's ranks, and snatched the standard right out of the hand of a rebel, who was waving it triumphantly over his head.

By-and-by Rupert returned, weary from his long chase, and found a battle almost lost, instead of the victory that might have been expected from a beginning so brilliant. Evening was closing in. Horses and men Horses and men were both worn out, and could not be mustered for another charge. The enemy having retired to their own portion of the field, remained silent and quiet, equally unwilling with the Royalists to fight any more with their exhausted forces.

In this unsatisfactory manner ended the battle of Edgehill. Neither side had won, and both sides had suffered severely. Nearly six thousand men lay slain upon the field. The dead bodies of seventy royal guards were found heaped together where the standard had been torn from that brave Sir Ralph Varney, whose life-blood had dyed it before it was surrendered.

CHAPTER VII.

THE ROAD TO LONDON.

THE road to London remained clear to the King after the battle of Edgehill. If Essex had been victorious, the Royalists would have been unable to continue their march to the capital; but, as matters turned out, the road was still free for them to travel. No one, however, thought of moving the night after the battle. All, both rebels and royalists, were too weary to stir, and most of them spent the hours of darkness in the open field, under the cold starlight.

It was a bitter night; but soon brushwood, dry sticks, and leaves were gathered by the soldiers, and fires were lighted. The shivering army divided into groups, and pressed round to warm themselves. The King too, and Prince Rupert, were glad to warm themselves before the blazing crackling piles, for the frost was biting and keen. Worse than all, many of the soldiers were half famished with hunger, and there was no refreshment to be had in the camp. Some poor fellows left their fires, and wandered into neighbouring villages in search of food; but the country people in that part of England, as has been mentioned, favoured the Parliament and hated the King's

troops, and it is stated that many of the soldiers were cruelly murdered.

Just before daybreak the King left his humble fireside, and took a short sleep in his coach; but as soon as it was light enough for him to see his way, he roused himself, mounted his horse again, and rode sorrowfully to view the battle-field of yesterday.

It was a sad sight that met his eye. The dead lay crowded together in confusion--some with the scarf of royal red folded over their breasts, and others marked by the orange colours of Essex. Roundheads and Cavaliers lay quietly together there, and all was still-still, indeed, as death!

But Charles could not remain long to gaze upon this terrible picture. It was necessary to decide, at once, whether or not the battle should be continued on that day. He resolved that first he would send to the rebels the offer of pardon, which had been forgotten in the haste of the day before.

This proclamation offered a free pardon to all rebels who would return to their duty, and the King appointed Sir William Le Neve to go to the enemy's camp, and read it aloud in the ears of the soldiers. But Lord Essex was much too wise to allow such a measure to be carried out. He feared, if his followers were to hear those gracious words, many of them would forsake him. and return to the King. A troop of horsemen were despatched to meet Sir William, and before he could get within hearing of the rebels, they presented pistols at his head, and bade him, he loved his life, not to presume to speak a word to the soldiers." He was then blindfolded, and

66

as