"Yes; it is more than bad," replied the latter; "we have lost our best officers, who never should have left the army; and now the consequences of the defeat will be, that we shall not have any people come forward to join us. The winning side is the right side in this world; and there is more evil than that; the Duke of Buckingham has claimed the command of the army, which the king has refused, so that we are beginning to fight among ourselves. General Leslie is evidently dispirited, and thinks bad of the cause. Middleton is the only man who does his duty. Depend upon it, we shall have Cromwell upon us before we are aware of it; and we are in a state of sad confusion: officers quarreling, men disobedient, much talking, and little doing. Here we have been five days, and the works which have been proposed to be thrown up as defenses, not yet begun."
"I can not but admire the patience of the king, with so much to harass and annoy him."
"He must be patient, perforce," replied Chaloner; "he plays for a crown, and it is a high stake; but he can not command the minds of men, although he may the persons. I am no croaker, Beverley, but if we succeed with this army, as at present disorganized, we shall perform a miracle."
"We must hope for the best," replied Edward; "common danger may cement those who would otherwise be asunder; and when they have the army of Cromwell before them, they may be induced to forget their private quarrels and jealousies, and unite in the good cause."
"I wish I could be of your opinion, Beverley," replied Chaloner; "but I have mixed with the world longer than you have, and I think otherwise."
Several more days passed, during which no defenses were thrown up, and the confusion and quarreling in the army continued to increase, until at last news arrived that Cromwell was within half a day's march of them, and that he had collected all the militia on his route, and was now in numbers nearly double to those in the king's army. All was amazement and confusion—nothing had been done—no arrangements had been made—Chaloner told Edward that all was lost if immediate steps were not taken.
On the 3d of October, the army of Cromwell appeared in sight. Edward had been on horseback, attending the king, for the best part of the night; the disposition of the troops had been made as well as it could; and it was concluded, as Cromwell's army remained quiet, that no attempt would be made on that day. About noon the king returned to his lodging, to take some refreshment after his fatigue. Edward was with him; but before an hour had passed, the alarm came that the armies were engaged. The king mounted his horse, which was ready saddled at the door; but before he could ride out of the city, he was met and nearly beaten back by the whole body almost of his own cavalry, who came running on with such force that he could not stop them. His majesty called to several of the officers by name, but they paid no attention; and so great was the panic, that both the king and his staff, who attended him, were nearly overthrown, and trampled under foot.
Cromwell had passed a large portion of his troops over the river without the knowledge of the opponents, and when the attack was made in so unexpected a quarter, a panic ensued. Where General Middleton and the Duke Hamilton commanded, a very brave resistance was made; but Middleton being wounded, Duke Hamilton having his leg taken off by a round-shot, and many gentlemen having fallen, the troops, deserted by the remainder of the army, at last gave way, and the rout was general, the foot throwing away their muskets before they were discharged.
His majesty rode back into the town, and found a body of horse, who had been persuaded by Chaloner to make a stand. "Follow me," said his majesty; "we will see what the enemy are about. I do not think they pursue, and if so, we may yet rally from this foolish panic."
His majesty, followed by Edward, Chaloner, and several of his personal staff, then galloped out to reconnoiter; but to his mortification he found that the troops had not followed him, but gone out of the town by the other gate, and that the enemy's cavalry in pursuit were actually in the town. Under such circumstances, by the advice of Chaloner and Edward, his majesty withdrew, and, turning his horse's head, he made all haste to leave Worcester. After several hours' riding, the king found himself in company of about 4000 of the cavalry who had so disgracefully fled; but they were still so panic-struck that he could put no confidence in them, and having advised with those about him, he resolved to quit them. This he did without mentioning his intention to any of his staff, not even Chaloner or Edward—leaving at night with two of his servants, whom he dismissed as soon as it was daylight, considering that his chance of escape would be greater if he were quite alone.