CHAPTER XXXI.
THE LAST STAND MADE BY THE ROYALISTS.
Once more we must enter the ill-fated city, which was now completelyin the power of the enemy, though many a conflict was still going onwithin it. So inflamed with fury were the Cavaliers, that they fellupon the foot soldiers who had been plundering the houses, and were somuch encumbered with booty that they could not defend themselves, andslew such numbers of them that Friars'-street was quite choked up withdead bodies. On neither side was quarter given.
"The hour of vengeance is come," shouted the fierce Cromwellians. "Slaythe Amalekites. Destroy them utterly--so that they may never more riseagainst us."
"Down with the rebellious sectaries!" cried the Cavaliers. "Spare themnot. Kill them as you would wild beasts."
Savage shouts like these were heard on all sides, proclaiming thedeadly animosity of the combatants which could be satisfied withnothing but slaughter.
The last stand made by the Royalists was at the Guildhall, and amore gallant stand was never made, because success seemed out of thequestion.
A tolerably strong party of Cavaliers had been rallied by Careless, SirRowland Berkeley, Colonel Legge, Colonel Lane, and Captain Hornyold.They assembled, as we have said, in front of the Guildhall. With themwere the Earl of Cleveland, Sir James Hamilton, Colonel Wogan, and someothers. They were attacked on the left by Fleetwood, and on the rightby Lambert, with whom was Cromwell in person. In the fierce conflictthat ensued, many were slain, and many more taken prisoners, but allthe leaders escaped, except Sir James Hamilton, who was severelywounded.
Finding the contest hopeless, and that they should soon be shutup within the city, without the possibility of escape, Carelessand the others dashed down Pump-street, and made their way to St.Martin's-gate. Having thus got out of the city, they rode as quickly asthey could to Barbourne Bridge, where they found the king.
Deprived of all its defenders, its bravest inhabitants slain, ormade captive, the city was then delivered over to the rapacious andfanatical soldiery, who had obtained possession of it. On the frightfulatrocities perpetrated during that night upon the wretched inhabitantsby the barbarous hordes let loose upon them, we shall not dwell.Suffice it to say that the sack of Rome under the Constable de Bourbonscarcely exceeded the sack of Worcester in horror.
Imagination cannot conceive scenes more dreadful than actuallyoccurred. No soldiers were ever more savage, more ruffianly, moremerciless than the Parliamentary troops. Cromwell himself had left thecity before the direst deeds were enacted, but he well knew what wouldhappen. He did not expressly sanction pillage and rapine and all otheratrocious acts, but he did not forbid them, and, at all events, did notpunish the offenders.
On that night, at the very time when the diabolical atrocities we havehinted at, but cannot describe--when outrages the most frightful werebeing committed by his soldiery, without the slightest interferencefrom his officers, the Lord General wrote in these terms to theParliament:
"This hath been a very glorious mercy, and as stiff a contest for fouror five hours as ever I have seen. Both your old forces and those newraised have behaved themselves with very great courage, and He thatmade them come out, made them willing to fight for you. The Lord GodAlmighty frame our hearts to real thankfulness for this, which is aloneHis doing."
The darkest part of the picture was carefully kept out of sight, andnothing dwelt upon but the "glorious mercy" vouchsafed him and hisforces. Yet no mercy was shown by the conquerors, on that dreadfulnight--the worst they ever had to endure--to the miserable inhabitantsof faithful Worcester.
Boscobel; or, the royal oak: A tale of the year 1651 Page 34
