No sooner had a detachment from the king’s army, advancing on the western road, been observed at Edlington, reconnoitring the lines of their enemy, than word came to Sir Thomas Fairfax, the commandant of the cavalry at Horncastle, that a surprize was expected. Information was accordingly dispatched to the Earl of Manchester: it found him at East Kirkby hill, with Colonel Cromwell, and the Lord Willoughby of Parham, intently observing the progress which the besiegers made against the castle of Bolingbroke, and assiduously ordering the dispositions of attack. Roused at this communication, Cromwell immediately hurried to collect the troops dispersed around. Fairfax was still every where distributing horsemen for the purpose of enquiry, cautious to ascertain and forward such accounts as might be obtained of the progress and number of the royal forces; who though eager for battle, were careful to deliberate on the promises of success. As the party who caused the alarm, suspecting themselves seen, had drawn off with such intelligence as they gathered, there seemed reason to suppose that the main body of the royalists were yet at a considerable distance: Fairfax therefore about sun set, learning nothing additional, proceeded to the quarters at East Kirkby, to confer on the measures proposed for the expected conflict. In the mean time the Earl of Manchester, with Lord Willoughby and some other officers, had with the like object hastened to Horncastle, previously appointing that at that place the forces should be immediately collected; where being drawn together, the most effective resolutions might be taken for ensuring a victory, or lessening the calamities of a defeat.
It was not until the dusk of the evening that the royal army, under Sir John Henderson, moved rapidly on to the station of their enemy. They had judged that the dubious light would serve to conceal their true numbers; and that as nothing was known of them with certainty, but their anxious readiness for the encounter; so their opponents, whether few or many, deeming them prepared for every casualty, might by their indecision leave an easy conquest to their arms.
The out-posts were surprized by the precipitate advance of these hostile forces; and in the unprepared circumstances of those who maintained them, and the disparity of their numbers, there was afforded them no means of encountering their difficulties, but the hardihood of a cool intrepidity. This indeed was a stern calmness which always pervaded the breast of a Puritan who was a soldier. He did not untremblingly bare his bosom to the steel because, like a Roman, he abstractedly considered fear inconsistent with the nobler qualities of human nature; but because the factitious enthusiasm of his religion had taught him to look with indifference on temporal things. If the general good required the sacrifice of his life, the particular calamities of his family were dismissed with scarce a thought beyond a pious supplication. It was this feeling which finally rendered the parliament victorious in their contest. However in this unlooked-for state the soldiers at the out-posts were exposed to much perplexity, and many were the dangers recited amongst them on the morning of the gathering of their strength for the field of battle. Some finding themselves surrounded, out-numbered, and in all the perilous circumstances of desperate warfare, were obliged to supply by politic conduct the helplessness of their condition. These therefore, hastily mounting their horses, agreed with much resolution to break through the opposing ranks, sword in hand, with the words of mutual encouragement, “Come on! come on! all is our own,” thinking that the enemy, by these ambiguous shouts, fearing an ambuscade, would leave to them an easy passage by the sudden confusion of their alarm. In this manner about four companies encountered two thousand cavalry, with the loss of only three men.
Though these warriors, taking the advantage of the darkness of the evening, were enabled by their resolute conduct to overcome these difficulties; yet as the royal army had already advanced onward to Horncastle, in strong and numerous detachments, they were exposed in their retreat thither to fresh and obstinate encounters. Perceiving, as they approached the town, that they had come up to another party of the enemy’s horse, they determined, after saluting them as friends, to hurry onward as if destined for some urgent duty. They had, however, scarce passed them, when flushed with the success of their stratagem, and feeling the pride and bravado of soldiers, who deemed their individual preservation as of little value to their common strength, if purchased without the blood of their enemy, they turned to the attack of the unwary royalists. “For whom are ye?” said they. “For the king.” “We are for the king and parliament.” Scarcely had these declarations been interchanged, when rushing precipitately on the unsuspecting enemy, and throwing them into disorder, they fled towards the town, deeming themselves secure in the quarters of their comrades, and considering their valour rewarded in the acclamations that would greet them from their friends. But Horncastle, surprized at the approach of numerous hostile forces, had been evacuated by the detachment of horse which possessed it; and the inhabitants, as soon as the town was seized by the troops of the king, having secured the entrances and roads through it, by forming barriers with carts and timber; the cavalry found themselves again obliged to exert their unyielding valor in turning upon their pursuers. Desperately therefore they burst through them with the full energy of their courage, sustaining the loss of some few men, among whom was a cornet; but bringing away prisoners as the evidence of their perils and their triumph. [17]
At this period of hurried confusion, and the setting in of the night, the Earl of Manchester reached the town. He heard the rejoicings of the troops, thus victorious in the dangers of their retreat; taunting the enemy with their shouts, as they drew off undefeated from their toils. Finding now that the place designed for the assembling of his forces was already possessed by the enemy, he hastily recalled the orders for the general rendezvous at Horncastle, and appointed Bolingbroke in its stead. Thither at night repaired the dispersed soldiery of the parliament, except three or four troops of horse, who in the difficulties of retreating before superior forces, had been obliged to proceed by the circuit of Tattershall, and did not arrive until the next morning.
At Bolingbroke, Manchester designed to wait for the enemy; but Cromwell, actuated by prudence, urged the delaying of the battle, since the troops, upon whose prowess and exertion success depended, were wearied, and little able to sustain the ardour of the fight. [18] The royal army were however too eager to secure the promises of a victory, to permit their adversaries to renew their strength by avoiding the contest. As soon as the morning had dawned and the silence of the surrounding country assured them that their enemies were withdrawn from near them, and were assembling together at Bolingbroke, they arrayed themselves for the encounter. Before the middle of the day they marched out, in strength about seventy-five troops of horse, and five thousand foot, to meet the soldiers of the parliament. Foreboding with certainty that this would be their determination, Manchester was constrained to the resolution of giving them battle, and immediately advanced towards them.
The spot upon which the contending armies engaged was a gently rising and broadly extended eminence, at a village called Winceby, midway between Horncastle and Bolingbroke. It commands an extensive prospect of the far stretched fen-lands of the county; whilst to the westward is seen those cliffs, on the summit of one of which magnificently rises the cathedral of Lincoln. This the royal army had contemplated as a district, which by victory was either to be restored to the authority of the king; or by defeat to afford an effectual check to the military operations in the north, and to be ensured as a further resource to the parliament. The noon was already passed when the armies came in sight of each other. The royalists trusting with confidence to their mutual ardor, rejoiced when they beheld the adverse soldiers advancing to meet them, though amid the wild chant of hymns for mercy and for victory. In the fields immediately before them they fixed the order of their battle: formed into closely compacted lines, the cavalry was placed in the advance, and covered the infantry. The left wing of this array, was commanded by the general Sir John Henderson. [19a]
The Earl of Manchester, pressed for ground in the marshalling of his forces, presented alone his cavalry to the fight; the infantry, headed by himself, being stationed so far in the rear that they were unable to second the exertions of their horsemen. [19b] The disadvantages arising from fatigue, with the closeness of ground, and inequality of numbers were apparent to the warriors of the parliament. In the doubtful promises of the contest, their leaders sought to replenish their strength, and supply their situation by words and by actions, infusing into them an energy and martial ardour rivalling their own. Fairfax, who knew by experience that the undaunted intrepidity of a few was more efficient in its achievements than the impetuosity of those who relied for security on their numbers, pointed to his men the imposing array of his adversaries, exclaiming “Come let us fall on; I never prospered better than when I fought with my enemies three or four to one.” Cromwell, by the apparent bravery with which he was animated, promised them that examples of heroism should not be wanted, whilst life was given him to lead them. [19c]
On the other hand, the commander of the royal forces did not lose the opportunity which was afforded him of reminding his fellow soldiers that vengeance was yet due for the defeat at Gainsborough; and that now was supplied them a time to requite themselves for the blood of the illustrious brother of Newcastle. He set before them the necessity of strenuous exertions and important sacrifices, by pointing to the example of one, who exalted amidst the mighty of the land, lately fighting among them, did not hesitate to devote himself to death for the cause of his sovereign. At the moment therefore when the armies were ready to engage, the royalists raised the cry of “Cavendish! on for Cavendish!” which was as loudly answered by the enthusiastic shout of “Religion!” the zeal which animated those who proclaimed it, by inspiring them with hopes of immortality, rendered death less to be dreaded than the misfortunes of a defeat. [20a]
Scarce had the words of onset been given, when the divisions of cavalry, under the command of Cromwell and Fairfax, were led to the charge by Vermeydun, a soldier of valour, who headed the first detachment as a forlorn hope, aspiring to the honour of directing his comrades on to victory. Already the horsemen of the royalists, with a well directed precision, had vigorously poured into their ranks the second discharge of their fire arms. These did some execution among them; and Cromwell thus early had his horse shot under him. A minute had elapsed before the parties fiercely met in the close encounter, arm to arm. Cromwell for a time was compelled to grapple on foot with his enemies, entangled amid the trappings of his dying charger. Though felled to the ground as he attempted to extricate himself from this perilous situation, he rose uninjured. This singular man, bold and intrepid, animated by zeal, foremost in the fight, struggling with disasters, seemed peculiarly preserved in all his dangers, to fill that situation in the page of history, where, though elevated by violence, he powerfully commands our admiration by his success, his prudence, and the daring of his genius. Sir Ingram Hopton, who at this moment had attempted to seize him, was killed. [20b] Cromwell, now recovering a horse from a soldier near him, bravely led on his companions to the combat, strengthening their stern courage by the most signal proofs of his personal bravery.