9. Royalist disaster & private grief: 1645-7

On 14 June 1645, the New Model Army – Parliament's new national army – inflicted a decisive defeat on the Royalists at the Battle of Naseby in Northamptonshire.  It was a disaster for the King.  His army was shattered and his private papers had fallen into Parliament's hands.  They published them.  Now people could see that they had been right to fear that he planned to bring an army of Irish Catholics over to fight in England.  He was negotiating to do just that, and he was trying to get money and mercenaries from abroad.  

The last hopes were fading for the Royalists.  In Wensleydale, John Scrope had been holding Bolton Castle for the King.  It had been under siege since the autumn of 1644.  Now, although there was no chance of relief, the garrison held out until all their supplies had been eaten – including the horses and all the animals – and then they surrendered in November 1645.  Parliament ordered the castle to be slighted, and some of it was demolished. 

Bolton Castle

By then Sir Thomas Danby and Lady Danby were back in their own house at Thorpe Perrow.  His estates had been seized by the Sequestration Committee because he had fought for the King, but in each county there was a Committee for Compounding with Delinquents, which could let the men have their lands back if they pledged never to fight against Parliament again and if they paid a fine – a useful way for the new government to raise money.  Sir Thomas's fine was heavy, but by 1645 he had paid up and he and Catherine were at home again.  

She was now expecting her sixteenth child.  Ten of her babies had lived to be baptised but the others were stillborn, Alice remembered, from frights caused by fire in her chamber, by falls and other accidents.  She had been married at the age of fifteen and she was now thirty.  Tender-hearted and sweet-natured, she was badly grieved by the war and the state of the country and she dreaded to think what the future might hold.  She had been left during the war to manage the estate and household while her husband was away in the King's service and only able to come back rarely and she had missed him badly.  She had been vexed and troubled by the many alarms and difficulties caused by the presence of the Scots soldiers quartered on her.  She had been very unwell during this pregnancy and now she went into labour earlier than she expected.  She couldn't get her old midwife because she was in Richmond, which was shut up by the plague.  And the baby was a breech presentation, coming – as Alice said – double into this world.  

At last she was delivered of a fine boy after a long and very hard labour.  He was named Francis after Alice's little godson, his elder brother who had died that summer of smallpox.  Catherine was in dreadful pain, unable to sleep or eat.  The women of her family came to her.  Her sister-in-law Lady Armitage and her aunt Mrs Norton had been with her when Alice came to take their place.  Catherine was making her preparations for the good death which was of such paramount importance at the time, praying for her family and for peace in England, and entrusting her children to her husband's care.  After a week, Alice's grief for Catherine was such that she became ill herself.  Mrs Wandesford came with her careful young servant Dafeny Lightfoote and sent Alice home.  

Catherine loved Dafeny dearly and now Dafeny was always with her.  At last, with her head on Dafeny's breast, she said, "I am going to God, my God now."  Dafeny spoke to her bracingly, saying she hoped God would spare her to bring her children up.  "How can that be," said Catherine, "for I find my heart and vitals all decayed and gone.  No.  I desire to be dissolved and to be with Christ, which is best of all."  She died on 20 September 1645 about a month after giving birth and was buried at Masham two days later.  Her funeral was held at night, according to Alice's recollection, because the Parliamentarian and Scots soldiers would not let a sermon be preached.

On the other side of the country, the Wandesfords' friends in Chester were in trouble.  

Though the Battle of Naseby had left the King with no realistic chance of winning, the fighting continued across the kingdoms.  In parts of the West Country, the Midlands and Wales, men grew so weary of the plundering, ill-disciplined troops that they banded together to try to keep both armies out.  

Chester was still held for the King and had been under siege, off and on, for a year.  In September 1645, as Catherine Danby's life drew to a close, the city found itself under a new assault.  This time, the siege was total and it lasted until February 1646.  By the time the Royalist commander Lord Byron was finally persuaded by the Mayor to surrender, the poor were dying of hunger.  The loss of life, the damage and destruction had been huge.  After the siege was over, plague swept through the city, taking a fearful toll of the starved and homeless poor.  Alice and her mother were profoundly grateful that they had escaped.

Lord Byron (1599-1652)

The King, the Scots and the cancellation of Christmas: 1646-7

Oxford had been the King's capital city since 1642.  The University was on his side – the townspeople were not.  He had returned there in November 1645, hoping to begin again with a new campaign in the spring, but his plans fell through.  Parliamentary troops besieged the city – and then they discovered to their amazement that the King had escaped.   On 27 April 1646, with his hair cut short, wearing drab clothes and a false beard, he had slipped out of Oxford with two companions.  

He had been in secret negotiations for a separate peace with the Scots, but his arrival at their camp outside the siege of Newark took them completely by surprise.  The Scottish general in charge was David Leslie, the man to whom Mrs Wandesford had gone for help against Captain Innes.  Now he needed to get the King away at once to the Scots garrison at Newcastle.  So the King ordered the reluctant Royalist commander of Newark to surrender so that the Scottish army could leave.  On 8 May the Scots broke camp and set off north with the King. 

They kept him as an open prisoner in Newe House, a mansion with extensive grounds inside Newcastle's city walls.

Newe House, see Tyne & Wear Museums blog

From there – when he wasn't playing golf – the King plotted.  He carried on negotiations with both the Scots and the Parliamentarians, trying to exploit the divisions between them, and he intrigued with his exiled Queen, trying to get troops from Ireland and France.  He didn't succeed in any of it.  

The war was over and the Scots were negotiating with Parliament for payment towards the arrears of wages owed to their troops, after which they would leave England.  Abandoning hope of coming to an agreement with the King, the Scots handed him over to Parliament in January 1647.  

Parliamentarian troops took over his custody and the Scots marched out of Newcastle, with the fishwives pelting them and shouting "Judas" because they thought the Scots had sold the King.

In February 1647, Parliamentarian troops appeared in the North Riding, travelling south with the King.  The road lay through Northallerton and they stopped the night there at the house of the Metcalfe family, opposite the parish church.  The grief of people like the Wandesfords can be imagined – for them he was, as Alice said, a holy, pious prince who fought God's battles against his enemies, a nursing father to his three kingdoms.  

The Porch House, Northallerton: where Charles I stayed in 1647

The next grief to strike Alice's poor mother was the loss of her brother Sir Edward Osborne.  In spite of his own cares and sorrows, he had been a constant support to his widowed sister.  He had spent heavily in the King's service and been obliged to pay a large fine to get back his sequestered estates.  He had retired to live quietly at Kiveton with his second wife Ann, never ceasing to grieve for his son Edward, killed in the roof collapse at York in 1638.  It was because of some excellent melons from his gardens at Thorpe Salvin Hall and Kiveton, Alice said, that he was taken ill.  He ate a little too much – the melons were too cold for him – and he was thrown into a vomiting and diarrhoea that exhausted him past recovery.  He died a few days later on 9 September 1647 to the great distress of his family, and was buried in the chancel of Harthill church.  He was fifty-one.

While the grieving Mrs Wandesford was running her household and providing for her children like the skilful housewife that she was – Alice remembered her careful huswifery – constant in her charitable works and always remembering the needs of the newly homeless clergymen and their families who would appear at her door, Parliament was running the country.  This wasn't to everyone's liking.  

Parliament was proving highly efficient at collecting taxes – revenue much needed for the Army, which was getting worryingly radical and deeply involved in politics – and hard times under the King's rule were beginning to fade from memory.  Not everyone greeted the destruction of paintings, statues and decorations in their parish church with joy.  Theatres had been closed since 1642.  And now Christmas was cancelled.  

The English loved Christmas.  The church services were only part of it – all classes in England celebrated the twelve days with food and drink, parties and revels, while the Presbyterian Scots had banned Christmas several years earlier because it was Catholic, superstitious, not mentioned in the Bible and led only to drunkenness and debauchery.  Parliament had established a new pattern for public worship and the Feasts of Christmas, Easter and Whitsun were banned.  No more sinful behaviour to bring down God's wrath upon the kingdom – the recent war showed where that had led.  No special church services, everyone to go to work, shops to be open, no hanging up the holly and the ivy, and absolutely no partying.   

The ban probably hardly mattered to the family at Hipswell, in mourning for Sir Edward Osborne.  Tucked away in Catterick, and careful not to draw hostile attention, Mr Syddall was still able to celebrate Holy Communion for them and a quietly held Christmas service could go unnoticed.  But in Kirklington, under the eye of the Presbyterian minister Mr Nesbit, the villagers will have missed their Christmas service and the only safe way to entertain friends in anything like the proper style would be after dark, secretly, fairly quietly and behind closed doors.

News would come to the Wandesfords that in some places across the country there had been riots over the ban.  Armed force was needed to stop the partying in Kent, where the usual Christmas football game was played in Canterbury, and in Westminster the churchwardens of St Margaret's were arrested for failing to stop a Christmas day service.

And at intervals news came of the King.  

First he was held by Parliament, then he was taken by the radicals of the Army.  Then he escaped.  And then, like his grandmother Mary, Queen of Scots, when she thought she would find a friendly refuge with Elizabeth of England, Charles made a fatal misjudgment of character.  He didn't go to Berwick and the support of the Scots.  He went to the Isle of Wight, thinking the governor would protect him and help him get to France.  Instead, he found himself imprisoned at Carisbrooke Castle.  

Notes

This period of the wars is called the English Civil War 1642-46

The Tyne & Wear Museums blog has more pictures of the Newe House, which was later known as Anderson Place.  It stood just off Pilgrim Street.

Sir Edward Osborne's gauntlets, said to have been worn by him in the war, are on display in Harthill church; his helmet was stolen in the 20th century.  See here 

Next: 10. The Man of Blood & the English Republic: 1648-1650 

6. Chester: smallpox, siege and travelling home: 1643

Meanwhile, there was smallpox in Chester and three of Mrs Wandesford's household took the terrifying disease.  

First to fall ill was seven-year-old John, who caught it from their cousin William Wandesford's sons who were also living in Chester.  Alice was forbidden to go near John but she couldn't resist sending him letters tied to a little dog's neck.  Was it because the little dog had been taken into his bed that Alice caught the infection?  Was it the shock she suffered at the first sight of his poor little scarred face – he had been a beautiful child and of a sweet complexion?  At any rate, now she was taken very ill.  They thought this was because the pustules were staying near her heart instead of erupting through her skin.  More fearful, anxious nursing for Mrs Wandesford, more watching by the bedside at night ... and at last Alice, too, recovered.  

But a nine-year-old boy called Frank Kelly did not survive.  Mr Wandesford had been bowling on the Green in Dublin one day when he noticed that Frank was gathering up his bowls for him.  He was taken with this quick-witted, ragged orphan who gladly joined the Wandesford household, which grew very fond of him, and he was duly educated in Anglicanism to save his immortal soul.  His sight was eaten out with the smallpox, Alice remembered, and his mouth very sore.  They cared for him tenderly – Mrs Wandesford, who dressed his sores as attentively as if he had been her own child, two watchers, the doctor and his medicines – but they could not save him and he died after a fortnight's suffering.

Then the war came unexpectedly close.

Early on 17 July 1643, Alice had been at prayer in the first morning and was now standing looking out at the church of St Mary on the Hill from an open window in the tirritt – which must mean the projecting upper bay – of their house.  Out of nowhere there came a shot, passing so close by that the casement window shut with a bang and the whole tirritt shook.  She was left breathless and shaking with fright.  The enemy was at the city walls.

Old Chester: the Cross and Rows, photographed c1895

Sir William Brereton, a wealthy Cheshire landowner, ardent Puritan and very effective military commander, had launched a probing attack against the city's defences.  After two days, his forces moved on.  Alice was told a consoling tale of incompetence and failure on the part of the besiegers.  Three granados – explosive shells fired from a mortar – were shot into the town.  One hit the sconce – a detached fort – within the walls.  Two of Captain Manwaring's men seized an ox hide and smothered it.  The second landed among a company of women out milking in a pasture, but it fell in a ditch and was quenched.  The third, she was told, fell among Brereton's horse and killed many, so that they raised the siege.  In fact, the city was too well defended and Sir William Brereton's forces moved off.  They would return.

While the city fathers strengthened the defences, Mrs Wandesford made her plans to leave for the Royalist North Riding.

Travelling east: 1643

On 28 August 1643, Mrs Wandesford and her three children, now aged between nine and seventeen, set off for Yorkshire.  With them were several servants and also some tenants – they must have been the people who had left Yorkshire to build Mr Wandesford's new town of Castlecomer and had expected, until the rebellion, to make a life there.  They made an inoffensive company and they were travelling light.  Mrs Wandesford's status as a widowed gentlewoman should be some protection – though there were horrid and frightening stories, of course – and she could reasonably hope for the courteous assistance of Parliamentary commanders.  

They had some 125 miles ahead of them and a crossing of the wild Pennines.  Roads across the uplands were hardly ever more than drove roads and pack horse trails, and Mrs Wandesford had a choice.  She could follow the valley of the River Wharfe towards Ripley.  That would allow them to take a coach, but it would lead them uncomfortably close to the Parliamentarian cloth manufacturing districts of the West Riding and the Puritan town of Otley.  Or they could choose the more northerly, steeper crossing past Blubberhouses, but that would be best ridden.  Alice usually makes a point of mentioning a coach journey, and she doesn't here – so perhaps they rode.

The first stages of their journey were through territory controlled by Parliament.  After travelling some twenty miles, they came wearily into Warrington in the West Derby Hundred of Lancashire at ten o'clock at night.

Warrington had been surrendered to Sir William Brereton's forces on 20 May.  It was now under its new governor, the moderate Presbyterian, Sir George Booth.  

Sir William Brereton (1604-61)

They had an uneasy night, as the town was several times alarmed by reports that Royalists from Chester were approaching.  

Leaving Warrington, they would pass through the Blackburn Hundred where Colonel Richard Shuttleworth of Gawthorpe Hall commanded the army for Parliament.  He gave Mrs Wandesford a pass, by means of which they journeyed the dozen miles to the Royalist town of Wigan.  

Parliamentary forces had sacked the town in April and when they left had taken many prisoners and as much booty as they could carry.  The Wandesfords found it, Alice remembered, sorely demolished and all the windows broken.  The trauma was still vivid and the travellers' arrival frightened the townspeople, who were scared that they were Parliamentarians.  The soldiers had cursed them as Papist dogs and had forced them to watch as they burned five hundred of their Bibles and prayer books at the market cross, claiming there was Popery in them.  Mrs Wandesford was gladly welcomed among them once they realised she was the great niece of Edward Fleetwood, who had been their Rector for thirty years in the last century, and whose memory was still treasured.  They flocked to see her and were as kind as could possibly be.  Alice remembered that even though their Bibles and prayer books were burned, they never missed morning prayers at six and afternoon prayers at four.

The next day the party travelled on to the Yorkshire-Lancashire border.  Some thirty miles from Wigan, they reached Downham near Whalley, three miles from Clitheroe.

But they weren't allowed to go on.  A Parliamentary corporal and his men refused to believe Colonel Shuttleworth's pass was genuine and made them get down with threats and oaths.  Their harsh language and abusive behaviour were terrifying.  Mrs Wandesford and her children were forced to take shelter in a poor dwelling where they lay all night with heavy hearts, fearing that they were about to be used barbarously.  All they could do was wait and hope while one of their servants and two of the soldiers went to find Colonel Shuttleworth, who was ten miles away.  He was, not surprisingly, angry when he saw his own pass and heard what had happened and he sent his son-in-law Captain John Ashton of Cuerdale to deal with the matter and punish the soldiers.  Captain Ashton and his men then escorted Mrs Wandesford and her party to the edge of his jurisdiction.  

Now they needed to get to the other side of the Pennines.  Their next destination was probably Skipton Castle, about sixteen miles away.  It was held by the Royalists and was under siege from the Parliamentarians – but the siege was not very active at this point and Mrs Wandesford had her pass from Colonel Shuttleworth and perhaps also the escort of Captain John Ashton.

From Skipton they could ride east to the Royalist stronghold of Knaresborough Castle, or to Ripley Castle, which was held by Sir William Ingleby for the King.  That would be a journey of twenty to twenty-five miles across wild, empty countryside, climbing to 1,000 feet before dropping down to Blubberhouses, a hamlet of a few mining cottages.  Then there would just be the final twenty miles or so to Snape, which lies between Kirklington and Bedale.  Snape was their destination – it was one of Sir Thomas Danby's manors and Catherine was living there while he was with the King's armies.  She had invited them to come and stay with her.  

They arrived at Snape on 2 September 1643.  They had been six days on the road but now they were in their own country.  For about a year they lived, Alice wrote, with great comfort and safety with her sweet sister Danby at Snape.

Next: 7. The Siege of York & Battle of Marston Moor: 1644