The troops before Oxford shared the feelings prevalent in London, and would not linger over a siege while the King was victorious in the field: and the Parliament readily granted their request. On June 11 we find Fairfax with his army near Northampton.
Another prayer which could only be granted by Parliament was preferred by the army. Cromwell, in spite of the Self-denying Ordinance, had been allowed by a Parliamentary resolution of May 10 to continue temporarily his military A.D. 1645. functions; the officers now requested that this man, in whom they had full confidence both political and military, might be appointed as their general of cavalry. Naturally the Lords, who had been excluded from the army by the Act, hesitated about conferring so important a post, in contravention of it, on their great opponent and rival. But their refusal was for the moment of no consequence: Cromwell’s temporary commission was to last for forty days, and it was during this time that on June 13 he entered Fairfax’s head-quarters, accompanied by some newly-raised squadrons of cavalry. The council of war was at once held, and Cromwell infused new fire into its resolutions: the trumpets were immediately blown, and all the soldiers assembled rejoicing around their leaders.[420]
On the same day, at the news that the superior army of the Parliament was near, the King quitted Daventry—where the division that had been detached to Oxford had now joined him, but no other aid—to advance towards the north. But at the first halt, at Harborough, it was ascertained that the enemy was following close on the heels of the army, and was now encamped in their immediate neighbourhood. To encounter him was now absolutely necessary, for how could they possibly have allowed him to attack their rear while they advanced? In the council of war the only question was whether to await attack where they stood, or go in search of the enemy. Rupert was for awaiting attack, but the King decided the other way.[421]
It is a popular tradition that the shade of Strafford rose that night before the King, and warned him against his purpose.
The danger of Charles I lay not in either one course or the other, but in the whole situation. He was now compelled to do what a few days before he had declined to do, fight a superior enemy with a weaker force, and under still more unfavourable conditions. The future of England was staked on this one cast: the decision of great and vital questions rested on the issue of an essentially unequal contest.
A.D. 1645.
On June 14 the Royal army formed in order of battle a mile from Harborough. Lord Astley’s infantry formed the centre, Prince Rupert with about 2000 horsemen the right wing, and Marmaduke Langdale with the Cavaliers of the north, who however were not altogether on good terms with him, the left wing. The King placed in reserve his own bodyguard of horse and a regiment of foot.
Meanwhile the Parliamentary army was drawn up in rank and file on a similar rising ground near Naseby, but on the opposite slope, so that it could not be overlooked from a distance. Cromwell took charge of the right wing: the left he intrusted to his son-in-law Ireton: Fairfax and Skippon commanded the battalions of the centre. A reserve, considerable in proportion, was drawn up in the rear.
Without knowing the position and strength of the enemy, but aware of his propinquity, the Royal army was seized by its old thirst for battle, and began its march. Generals and soldiers were unanimous: any objection, however well founded, would have seemed a proof of cowardice[422]. Without being checked by slight obstacles, it reached the opposite hill and was climbing it, when the Parliamentary army appeared at the top in full order of battle. When the two forces looked one another in the face at this close proximity, they halted a moment, as if to take thought, before engaging. The infantry discharged their pieces once, and then met hand to hand with the sword and clubbed muskets. It was now shown that the newly-formed troops were not equal to more experienced ones; the Parliamentary infantry this time were decidedly worsted; their colours were seen to fall, some regiments dispersed and fled to Northampton[423]. So also the onset of Rupert’s horsemen once more displayed irresistible strength: in spite of a skilful and not inefficient ambush of some of the enemy’s dragoons behind neighbouring hedges, he overthrew A.D. 1645. Ireton’s regiments, the commander of which was himself wounded and wellnigh captured. Still the success of the right wing and centre on this day was not decisive. The Parliamentary reserve could not be overcome by Rupert, but enabled the defeated horse and foot to rally at least partially, and the onset of the left wing of the Royal army was completely repulsed by the Parliamentary right under Cromwell. There was a moment during the battle when loss and gain were about equal on each side. Cromwell himself, it is related, was engaged in single combat with a Royalist general, exchanged blows and shots with him, and actually lost his helmet: then taking another, which was offered him, and putting it on the wrong way, defended himself with bravery and success against his adversary.
It was a battle of the old style, in which fire-arms had scarcely any effect: they measured their strength man to man, on horseback as well as on foot. The superiority of the Royalists extended to the infantry, since they had no longer the old city regiments before them: but the cavalry, formed from the freeholders of the associated counties, opposed them with unusual vigour.