It is probable that with some such sensations Newcastle suddenly awoke, about seven o’clock, on the evening of Tuesday, 2 July, 1644; and there was noise in abundance to disturb his slumbers. The heavy roll of the thunder was drowned by the booming of cannon, the firing of muskets, pistols and arquebuses, and the war cries of the excited soldiers; for in those primitive times soldiers fought near enough to bandy curses with each other. One naturally wonders whether, when it came to “push of pike,” the Roundhead warriors remembered how strictly they had been forbidden by Cromwell to use bad language, if indeed any language could be worse than that of the Puritan divines themselves.
Most likely the Generals on either side had had no intention of fighting that evening; certainly there is no reason for doubting the sincerity of Rupert in telling Newcastle that he did not intend to attack until the morning; but, as we have seen, the rival armies had been drawn up perilously close to each other. They were within musket-shot—a very short distance with the fire-arms of the period, and it may be that the battle was begun by some of the men without orders from their officers. Anyhow, the match had been applied to the powder; probably the Generals on either side thought that the battle had been begun by those on the other, and soon orders were given in all directions for a general engagement.
Would’st hear the tale? On Marston Heath
Met, front to front, the ranks of Death;
Florished the trumpets fierce, and now
Fired was each eye, and flushed each brow,
On either side loud clamours ring
“God and the Cause!”—“God and the King!”
Rokeby, Canto I. xix.
Newcastle armed himself as quickly as possible, mounted his horse and galloped to the front, accompanied by his brother, Sir Charles Cavendish, two other officers, and his page. The first men he came upon were some gentleman volunteers, who had formerly chosen him for their captain, and he called out to them:—