The more for that. Yes, Henry.
May we tell your father now?
Yes—if I can but help you to serve.
You shape my service. In you shall all the figures of my service dwell. Will he take this kindly?
Surely. He loves you, he has said it often.
Father, Henry Ireton has to speak to you.
Eh?
Yes, Mr. Cromwell.
Quite so. Mr. Cromwell. That's very interesting now, isn't it?
By your leave I would marry Bridget.
I dare say. You would be a very foolish young man else. And, what of Bridget's leave?
He has that.
I should think so, too. Well?
You consent?
I could do nothing more gladly. You have chosen well, both of you. I rejoice for you. But you must wait until this business we have in hand is gathered up a little.
Yes, father. It is better so.
Let your mother know of the betrothal. I will write as well.
To-night.
Seth asked to see you, Henry.
Shall we go?
Yes.
Oliver.
Yes, mother.
These are my five Ely houses, and the Huntingdon farmlands. Use them.
But it's all you have.
My needs are few, and I have not many days.
I will use them, mother, worthily, with God's help.
Bless you, my son. Bless you always. And may the mercy of God be upon England.
Upon England—Amen.
Mr. Lawes makes beautiful music, Oliver.
Yes, mother.
Amos and Seth want to speak to you, father. The men are coming.
Yes.
Bridget has news for you, mother.
I meant to speak when you were down there, sir. But I'm a bit slow. There's two things, so to say.
Yes, Amos.
There's to be great wars and spending, I know.
Yes, Amos.
I should like to give the little I've saved. You'll spend it well, sir, I know. It's a matter of two pound. It's not a deal, but it might help by way of an example, as it might be.
In such measure it shall be taken from all who will give. That is true in spirit, Amos. It shall be used.
And then if I might speak for Seth.
Yes, what is it?
He's dumb, sir, it's true, but you'll find no better heart nor wits. And he has a fair lot of book-learning now as well, and has come to handle a pen for all his poor hands were treated so. He would be your servant, sir, in the wars.
It's a good offer. Very well, Seth, we'll serve together.
They are coming, father. Are you ready?
Yes.
My friends, I know not to what labour you will next be called, but we are upon dark and proving days, coming to memorable issues. The tyranny that has worked among us so grievously and long now strikes at our all. We must betake ourselves to defence, or this will be but a rotten realm, fair for no man to live in henceforth. Do not be mistaken. In the way of life out of which has come this menacing destruction upon us is much of beauty, much of nobility, and the light of man's mind. These things it will be for us in season to cherish and preserve. But where these have been is no warrant for authority abused. And authority this day is an abuse against us to the very pitch of wickedness. We are called to stand for the charter of all men's faith, for the charter which is liberty, which is God. Against us are arrayed the ranks of privilege. They are mighty, well used in arms, fearless, and not easily to be turned aside. But we go to battle in the name of God. Let every man consider it. Each one of you is here and now called to service in that name, that hereafter in England a man may call his hearth his own. And now may the love of God inform you. In humble courage let us go forward, nourishing our strength, sure always in our cause. May God bless us, and teach us the true valiance, and may He spend us according to His will. Amen. The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want.
The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
He maketh me to lie down in green pastures; he leadeth me beside the still waters.
He restoreth my soul; he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for thou art with me....
Between Mill Hill, and Sulby Hall, there. Broad Moor—yes. You measure their numbers at ten thousand, Staines?
Not more than ten, nor less than eight.
Four thousand or so of them horse?
It is thought so.
Yes, yes. We are eleven thousand, eh, Pemberton?
Eleven thousand and perhaps three hundred.
Naseby will be three quarters—no, half a mile behind us.
The right of the field is boggy, and pitted by rabbits. The action is like to move to the left.
Yes. There's a high hedge above there below Sulby. It would be useful to us then.
It has been marked, and dug almost to the waterside.
Good. Skippon and myself with the infantry there and there. Then the cavalry—you have one wing, Ireton, or you must command all, since General Cromwell is not come.
Is there any word of him?
None.
They do not consider us at Westminster.
It is disastrous of them to hesitate so. They do not understand.
No. I have told them that to-day is to be made the fiercest trial of all, but they do not listen.
Where is General Cromwell?
None knows. These months he has been up and down the land, exhorting, stirring up opinion, watching the discipline of our new armies, lending his personal authority in bringing men's minds to the cause. But to-day we need him here. He should have been sent. We need him.
Urgently. Charles and Rupert are staking all on this.
They were never in better tune. It is as though every man were picked.
I said this to Westminster.
We carry too many callow soldiers against them. Example will be everything. General Cromwell and his chosen troops have that, and experience; none like them.
Does the General himself know of our necessity, do you think, sir?
There is no tracing him. He almost certainly does not know, or he would have insisted. There are rumours of him from the eastern counties, of some activities with his men, but no more.
And the hope of England here in grave peril. Westminster is disgraceful.
Your appeal was plain, sir—weighty enough?
You may hear for yourself.
"The general esteem and affection which he hath with the officers and soldiers of this whole army, his own personal worth and ability for employment, his great care, diligence, courage, and faithfulness in the services you have already employed him in, with the constant presence and blessing of God that have accompanied him, make us look upon it as the duty we owe to you and the public, to make it our suit."
It is shameful of them.
It is. But that hope is gone. Do I take the left, sir?
You must choose. The horse entirely are your command now.
Whalley on the right, and you, Pemberton.
What's the hour?
Six o'clock, sir.
They have had three hours. Let the army sleep till ten if it may be.
Yes, sir.
Are you satisfied about those footmen on the left, sir?
No, not satisfied. But we cannot better it.
Rupert is almost certain to see the weakness there.
Yes, but there it is. Skippon must cover it as he can. We have spoken of it very exactly.
If either wing of our horse breaks, it means certain disaster there, even though Skippon could hold in the centre.
That's Cromwell again. And all to satisfy the pride of a few useless members that his self-denying ordinance keeps out of command.
Do you think it's that, sir?
What else? They are more jealous that he should come to no more honour than that we should succeed. And after all that has been given.
The blood.
It is abominable.
But there—we must not distress ourselves. We have our own loyalty. Keep in touch with Skippon, Staines. If you can push their right foot up towards Sibbertoft there, spare nothing in the doing. Have you all slept, gentlemen?
Yes, sir.
Since we lack General Cromwell, more depends on you, Ireton, than on any man, perhaps. You will not be wanting, I know.
In endeavour at least—and we can die.
Yes?
Something moves across from the east, sir. It is very faint. It may be haze, or it may be dust.
Watch. Come again at once.
Yes—there. It is moving, isn't it?
I think not.
Surely.
Could it be?
No. We should have heard.
And yet it seems to be moving.
Gentlemen, we must keep counsel with ourselves. This is to waste. Nerves must be unclouded to-day.
Finally, if we on the right have to fall back on Mill Hill, bring your horse down on to the Kilmarsh Road, Pemberton, if it be any way possible.
Yes—there's a ford there, at the fork if we are upstream.
I'll speak to Whalley, too.
If at last there should be a general retreat, it is to the west of Naseby, remember.
Yes. To the west. That there should be that even in the mind!
In that case, the baggage is my concern.
Staines, will you tell Conway that five hundred of his best men must dispute the Naseby road to the east. And let Mitchell command under him.
Yes, sir.
What is it?
See.
Our men are watching something. It is something moving. Horsemen—it must be.
There is something.
Gentlemen, let us promise ourselves nothing.
Yes?
General Cromwell is riding into the field with his Ironsides, sir, some six hundred strong.
Thank God!
You are welcome; none can say how much.
A near thing, sir. I only heard from Westminster yesterday at noon.
They told us nothing.
There are many poor creatures at Westminster, sir. Many of them, I doubt not, would have willingly had me kept uninformed of this. But we are in time, and that's all. Henry. Good-morning, gentlemen. How goes it?
The battle is set. Our foot there, Skippon and myself. Colonel Ireton and Whalley are with the horse. They are at your service.
Rupert will be there. Langdale, if I mistake not, will be there. That road—is it good?
Poor below Mill Hill, sir.
Then that is the point; it may be decisive there. You take the left, Henry.
Yes, sir.
Let Whalley be on my left here—give him fifteen hundred. I have six hundred. I'll take the right with them myself, Are you on the left, sir?
Yes, and the second line.
Good—can I have two of the best regiments down here behind me?
Yes. Staines, let Spilsby see to that.
Spilsby is good.
If I might say it, would you choose him for that, sir? It is a great responsibility, and he has been indiscreet. I thought not to use him to-day.
Indiscreet?
In his utterances, sir. His belief is in some question.
Surely you are not well advised to turn off one so faithful to the cause, and so able to serve you as this man is. He is indiscreet, you say. It may be so in some things; we all have human infirmities. Sir, the state, in choosing men to serve it, takes no notice of their opinions. If men be willing faithfully to serve it, that satisfies. Let it be Spilsby.
Yes, sir.
Is the army well rested, sir?
They are resting now. Till ten o'clock. We moved up at three.
Three hours for my men. It is enough. The order to advance at eleven?
At eleven.
Is the word for the day chosen?
Not yet.
Let it be, "God our strength." Gentlemen.
It is not mortal. You are sure of that?
He is hurt, grievously, but he will live now.
The danger is gone?
Yes. But it will be slow.
Whalley—there—in God's name, man. Tell Spilsby to beat down under General Cromwell. There's not a minute to lose. Whalley—that's good—come—no man—left—left—now, once more. God is our strength.
There, my son. Brave, brave. It is well.
How is it—out there?
They are scattered.
Scattered. Write to Bridget.
Yes—it is done.
Read.
My dearest daughter,—
This in all haste. We have fought to-day at Naseby. The field at all points is ours. They are destroyed beyond mending. Henry is hurt, but he is well attended, and the surgeons have no fear. He shall be brought to you by the first means. He has great honour to-day for himself and for us all.
He loves you.
Seth, will you write, please.
To the Speaker of the Commons of England, at Westminster.
Sir,—This, of which the General advises you, is none other but the hand of God, and to Him alone belongs the glory, wherein none are to share with him. The General served you with all faithfulness and honour; and the best commendation I can give him is, that I dare say he attributes all to God, and would rather perish than assume to himself. Which is an honest and a thriving way; and yet as much for bravery may be given to him, in this action, as to a man. Honest men served you faithfully in this action. Sir, they are trusty; I beseech you, in the name of God, not to discourage them. I wish this action may beget thankfulness and humility in all that are concerned in it. He that ventures his life for the liberty of his country, I wish he trust God for the liberty of his conscience, and you for the liberty he fights for. In this he rests, who is your most humble servant....
From the camp at Naseby field, in Northamptonshire.
They sing well.
Go to General Peyton. Tell him to keep three troops of horse four miles down the Leicester road there. He is not to move them till daybreak. And ask Colonel Reade to let me have his figures as soon as he can.
Yes, sir.
Finish that other letter, will you?
I can say this of Naseby. When I saw the enemy draw up and march in gallant order towards us, and we, a company of poor ignorant men to seek how to order our battle,—the General having commanded me to order all the horse,—I could not, riding along about my business, but smile out to God in my praises, in assurance of victory,
because God would, by things that are not, bring to naught the things that are. Of which I had great assurance, and God did it.
From Hamilton?
Yes, sire.
Has it been opened?
I think not.
Good. The commissioners from Scotland are in London. They are prepared to hear from us.
Andrews goes to London to-night. He is to be trusted.
Everything begins to move for us again. To-morrow they will miss us here, eh, Neal? In a week we should be at Carisbrooke.
Do not be too confident, sire. Things have miscarried before.
But not this time, Neal, believe me. Their House and their army are at odds. I've seen to that. It has gained time, and perplexed their resolution. And now Scotland will strike again, and this time mortally. Yes, the end will be with us, mark me.
May Your Majesty reckon truly.
Is Cromwell coming to-night?
He said not.
Strangely, the fellow grows on me. But he's a fool, Neal. Brave, but a fool. He sees nothing. Indeed, he's too dull. Ireton too—they are heavy stuff. Clods. Poor country. She needs us again truly. To check such mummers as these—all means are virtuous for that, Neal, eh?
Your Majesty knows.
Yes, we need no counsel. You are sure that Cromwell was not coming to-night.
That was as he said, sire.
Then let us consider. These Scots. What was it? Did you set it down?
Yes, sire.
Yes. Write.
Clause I. For the reason that the Scots should invade England. Let the intrigues of Parliament with the army and its leaders—notably Oliver Cromwell—to the peril of the Church and the King, stand to the world in justification. Clause 2. The royal forces in England shall move when and as the Duke of Hamilton directs. Clause 3. The King shall guarantee Presbyterian control in England for three years from this date. But the King shall for himself be at liberty to use his own form of divine service. Clause 4. All opinion and practice of those who call themselves Independents are to be suppressed. To see that this is diligently done may be left to the King's pleasure.... Yes—once we are at Carisbrooke.... Copy that, Neal. I will sign it. Let it go by Andrews to-night.
Yes, sire.
Do it now.
Yes?
Mr. Cromwell. We did not expect you.
No, sir. It is unexpected.
We came, sir, to reassure ourselves.
As to what?
Your Majesty knows that, in treating with you as we have done these months past, we have been subject to suspicions.
I imagined that it might be so. But your character and your reputation, Mr. Cromwell, can ignore these.