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

 In the early days of 1648 news would come to Hipswell of rebellions and fighting.  The Christmas riots were turning into rebellions, Royalists in Wales had risen, Royalist commanders had taken Berwick and Carlisle and the fleet had mutinied.  

In the very cold, wet weeks of July 1648, the people of Teesdale and Richmondshire realised fighting was coming closer to home.  A Scottish army had crossed into England on 8 July and was quartered at Penrith and Appleby, waiting for reinforcements.  And this time they had invaded to support the King – and this time he had agreed, after secret negotiations with one of the Scottish factions, that he would impose Presbyterianism on the English if they would put him back on his throne.  Finally he had his army – Scots, English and Welsh Royalists, Scots Covenanters and some English Presbyterians.

When this was realisesd, what were people to think?  It must have been baffling and unsettling.  The King's attempt to impose his Anglicanism on the Presbyterian Scots had started the wars in the first place, all those years ago.  For the Wandesfords, their Anglican religion and their King were inseparable and they longed to be rid of the Presbyterian minister forced on them at Kirklington.  Did the King mean to keep his word to the Scots?  And if he didn't, what would happen?

Sir Thomas Danby had given his word not to take up arms against Parliament when he got his sequestered estates back, so for him and men like him the only honourable option was to stay at home and await events.  George Wandesford had a choice.  His property was still sequestered and he had made no promise.  But he decided not to risk his family's safety and security to join with a Scottish army – the last people he would have wanted to join and possibly the very men who had been quartered on them at Hipswell – for a possibly doomed attempt at defeating Parliament.

Then a Parliamentary army of 4,000 men under the able and decisive young Major-General John Lambert of Kirkby Malhamdale arrived to garrison Barnard Castle.  They were waiting to meet the Scots, expecting them to cross Stainmore on their way to Pontefract Castle, which Royalists had retaken for the king.  

General John Lambert (1619-84)

But there was no sign of the Scots – they had moved south, not east.  And their timing was all wrong – the rebellions and the invasion hadn't coincided.  By the time the Scots set off towards Cheshire, Oliver Cromwell had taken the surrender of Pembroke Castle and was on his way north.   General Lambert marched his men south and met Cromwell at Wetherby.  They now had about 9,000 men, half the strength of the Royalists.

The weather was terrible, the armies made slow progress.  The Scots were short of supplies and they were getting no reinforcements from the English as they passed.  Cromwell crossed the Pennines via Skipton at speed and, catching the Royalists by surprise, he took Preston.  After grim fighting for two hours, his men drove across the Ribble bridge at push of pike, driving the Scots from the bridge over the River Darwen soon after.  In wind and driving rain, the Scots continued south in the mud, exhausted and demoralised.  Wigan, the town that had welcomed the Wandesfords so kindly in 1643, was plundered violently by hungry Scots soldiers, even though it had always been a Royalist town.  Their goal had been Warrington, where they hoped for reinforcements from Cheshire and Wales.  Their attempt ended instead on 19 August with surrender and imprisonment for many, escape for some – and execution for their commander, the Duke of Hamilton.  

Charles I at his trial

The attempt to restore Charles to the throne had failed.  Now the radicals in power in the Army and Parliament had run out of options with him.  The King – that Man of Blood, as they called him – had brought Scottish troops into England and set off another civil war.  More death, more destruction.  His slipperiness and dubious intrigues made further negotiations impossible.  They put him on trial for high treason as an enemy of the people.  And now he rose to the occasion – never in his life had he behaved with such quiet dignity.  The outcome was a foregone conclusion.  He was declared guilty and 59 of the 68 commissioners who sat in judgement signed the death warrant – one of them was Thomas Chaloner of Guisborough.  

Charles was executed on 30 January 1649 in Whitehall, on a scaffold outside the Banqueting House where the glorious ceilings he had commissioned Rubens to paint celebrated the belief in the Divine Rule of Kings that he and his father had held so dear.  

The execution of Charles I

The shock to his supporters was dreadful.  The Annointed of the Lord, the Joy of our hearts, the light of our eyes had been cruelly murdered, wrote Alice, by blasphemous rebels.  And not just to his supporters – the execution of the king by an army faction was deeply unsettling and at the moment of his death, when a groan went up from the silent watchers, the cult of King Charles the Martyr was born.

Note

This was the end of the Second Civil War, 1648

The English Republic and the invasion of Scotland: 1650

England was now a republic and soon Parliament declared it was a Commonwealth – the traditional word for a community founded on the common good of all.  But they had executed the king without consulting the Scottish parliament, and Charles was not only king of England but king of the Scots as well.  Within days of the execution, the Scots proclaimed his son as King.  

While Oliver Cromwell crushed radical mutinies in the army and crossed to Ireland to subdue it with the utmost brutality, the new king Charles II – not yet nineteen years old – went into an alliance with the Scottish Presbyterians, promising, like his father before him, to impose Presbyterianism on the English.  

Charles II c1650,
by Adriaen Hanneman

Now the English Council of State decided to preempt a Scottish invasion by invading Scotland.  

In the middle of July 1650, a large army of some 15,000 men marched through Yorkshire on its way to Durham.  It reached Berwick-upon-Tweed on 19 July.  Oliver Cromwell was in command.  It was another particularly wet, cold summer, and the Scottish commander hoped that sickness and hunger would wear the English down, so he destroyed all the crops and removed all the livestock between the border and Edinburgh.  

Cromwell began by trying to persuade the Scots that young Charles was not a fitting king for them – they were beginning to have their doubts about this charismatic and dashing young man, but Charles was ready to promise them anything and they were not to be persuaded by an invading English general.  It looked as though the Scottish army would succeed triumphantly, but in heavy rain, in sodden fields, it went down to a crushing and surprising defeat at the Battle of Dunbar on 3 September 1650.  It was Cromwell's greatest victory.  

On Christmas Eve, Edinburgh surrendered to Cromwell.  On New Year's Day 1651, the Scots crowned Charles II at Scone in Perthshire.  

Note: the Scottish prisoners in Durham Cathedral

Cromwell was left with a lot of prisoners on his hands after the Battle of Dunbar and he wanted to advance further into Scotland.  He sent 3,900 of them south.  By the time they reached Durham, after an eight day march, some had escaped, some had been shot, and some had died of disease.  The rest – 3,000 of them – were locked inside the disused cathedral at Durham because it was the only place big enough to take them and the Parliamentarians didn't think of churches as sacred spaces anyway.  Conditions got out of control when the bloody flux – dysentery – took hold, and 1,600 were dead within six weeks.  Of the rest, some were sent to work in Sir Arthur Haselrigge's coal mines and in local industry, and some were sent at indentured servants to Massachusetts.  The last were set free in July 1652.  Their story was never forgotten in Durham.  It made the news when bodies were discovered in the grounds of the cathedral square in 2013 and again in 2018 when the results of painstaking investigation were published.  See here for a full account.

Next:  11. The wars come to an end: 1651 

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 

8. Mrs Wandesford moves to Hipswell: 1644-1645

In Kirklington, George feared he was a wanted man and he lay low for a while.  His sympathies were with the King, but he reckoned the King's cause was lost, and what would be achieved by involving himself in utter ruin?  So he didn't attempt to go west to join Royalist forces.  He thought it would be prudent for his family if they just stayed quiet.

But the following month, the Wandesfords unintentionally attracted unwanted attention. 

Firstly, on 19 August 1644, Mr Dagget, the kindly Rector of Kirklington, died.  The Wandesfords had always been entitled in law to appoint the next Rector and their choice was Mr Michael Syddall.  They knew about him because he was married to Ellen Hunton, the widow of the late Mr Wandesford's steward, and he was a man of their own views in religion.  They had very much appreciated the sermon he had preached at Mr Dagget's funeral.  

But the decision was now Parliament's, and Mrs Wandesford's attempt to get the help of Sir Thomas Fairfax, a friend in happier days, did not succeed.  A Mr Clarkson was sent to Kirklington instead.  The congregation took badly to him, especially when he preached against the Lord's Prayer – he was a severe Puritan who believed that it was a pattern for heartfelt prayer, that simply reciting it was Popery and so those who did so would be damned.  The people booed and hissed him out of the church and another minister to the liking of Parliament, one Mr Philip Nesbit, was sent instead.  

Now he was twenty-one, George was obliged by Act of Parliament to sign the Solemn League and Covenant made between the English Parliament and the Scottish Covenanters.  George didn't back down from his principles and he refused, because signing it went against his religious beliefs and against his loyalty to the King.  There wasn't a penalty in law for refusing, though Alice says that the Scottish armies stationed in Richmondshire were forcing men to sign under pain of imprisonment or ruin, but the names of men who refused were notified to Parliament.  So although George had tried not to attract attention, it might have been this refusal that got him denounced as a Malignant – a traitor to the Parliament.  

Then George was accused of having taken part in the Battle of Marston Moor.  Two men who had recognised him on the moor were called to York to give evidence against him, but though they wouldn't say that they had seen him engaged in the fighting, and though he was still under age at the time, he was declared a Delinquent and his estates were confiscated from him by the Sequestration Committee.  Alice always thought it was done through some sinister machinations by Mr Nesbit as a way to get himself appointed minister to the choice living of Kirklington, where he announced the sequestration of George's estates in a triumphing manner in the pulpit.

So the family went to live at Hipswell, which belonged to Mrs Wandesford under the terms of her marriage settlement.  This had the consolation that they were now near to Mr Michael Syddall, who had been their choice of minister for Kirklington and who was now vicar of Catterick.  And so they were still able to pray the Lord's Prayer and take Holy Communion, which disappeared in many places because it was contrary to Puritan beliefs, and Mr Syddall was to take baptisms and burials for the family in the years to come.

Hipswell Hall.  [By David Rogers CC BY-SA 2.0]

Scots soldiers at Hipswell & other perils

Unfortunately, Hipswell was much nearer to Richmond, and the town was now garrisoned by the Allies – the castle had been partly in ruins for a hundred years – and Scottish soldiers were everywhere.  And they were billeted on the locals.  Both armies always saved money by doing this because it meant the troops were kept at the civilians' expense.  This was a nuisance and a burden to everybody, but especially distressing if the householder had supported the other side.

For the next year and a half, Mrs Wandesford was burdened sometimes by Scots soldiers and sometimes by Parliamentarians.  She was very short of funds and she had to borrow to cover the cost of keeping her own family, making her monthly payment to the Allies and paying for the upkeep of a troop of Scots horse.  

She wasn't only bothered by worries over money – she also had to keep her pretty 19 year old daughter safe.  So she never allowed the captains and commanders to live in the house with the family.  At last there came one Captain Innes, who commanded a troop stationed at Richmond.

One day, he walked unexpectedly into the house.  Alice was in her mother's chamber when he walked boldly into the room to see Mrs Wandesford, and she had no chance to hide before he saw her.  When he did, he became very determined to stay in the house, promising he would keep to his own quarters out of their way ...  Finally they managed to get rid of him.  All the while Alice was in a tremble of fear because he looked so wild and bloody looking a man and he reminded her of the rebel lords in Ireland.

Captain Innes went back to Richmond and he told Alice's aunt Mrs Norton that he would give all he was worth if she would procure Alice to be his wife, offering £4,000 and saying that his colonel Lord Adair would come with him to speak for him.  Mrs Norton replied that Alice was not to be obtained by him and that she was sure that Alice had given him no encouragement, because she was resolved not to marry.  Then she sent a private message to Alice to warn her that the men were coming and that she should get out of his way.  

Mrs Wandesford was horrified.  She was afraid that they would burn the house down and she sent Alice out of the house to find somewhere to hide.  Very frightened, Alice ran into Richmond and hid herself with a good old woman who was one of the Wandesfords' tenants.  When night came and she could be sure that the men's visit was over, she went home.  All the while, Mrs Wandesford had been trying to placate them by bringing out the best of her provisions, assuring them that she had no idea where Alice was, and sending servants out to look for her.  Captain Innes was enraged.  

At about this time her mother wasn't very well, and so Alice had been sitting up a good deal with her and writing letters for her.  Becoming anxious for Alice's own health, Mrs Wandesford used to send her out in the company of her maids to get some fresh air.  So Alice would take a walk out to Lows – probably low-lying pasture land – and come back refreshed.  One day she was stopped by one of the Scots soldiers.  He didn't want to alarm her too much but he had an urgent warning for her:  

Dear mistress, I pray do not think much if I desire you, for God's sake, not to go out with the maids to Lows.

Alice knew the man – she had treated his hand when it had been badly cut.  He had come to return the favour.  He warned her that Captain Innes, cursing and swearing, planned that very night to come with a great number of men and catch her and take her away by force.  Deeply grateful for this rescue from rape and ruin, she gave the man many thanks and rewarded him for his trouble.  And after that she stayed at home like a prisoner, waiting for Captain Innes to leave Richmondshire.

In June 1645, when the time came for the Scots troops to go, some marching south to Doncaster and others leaving for Scotland to fight against the Scottish Royalists, Captain Innes sent – in a boasting manner, Alice said – to Mrs Wandesford for his pay.  She sent him all that she owed him, but he wouldn't take it.  He demanded double.  She wouldn't pay.  So one Sunday morning he arrived with his company at Hipswell, threatening to break down the doors of the Hall, and sending his men to drive off Mrs Wandesford's cattle.  As he swore and raged, Alice went up onto the leads – the roof – to see what was happening to the cattle.  Looking up, he mistook her for her mother and he cursed her bitterly, wishing that the Devil would blow her blind and into the air.  She had been a thorn in his heel, but he would be a thorn in her side.  And so his men drove off the cattle – a delicate breed of Mrs Wandesford's own – to Richmond.

Mrs Wandesford took the pay that she owed him and set off for Richmond herself.  She went to St Nicholas, the house of her sister-in-law Mrs Norton, where she could find the Scottish commander, General David Leslie.  When she told him the story, he took the money and said he would make Captain Innes accept it.  When Captain Innes left for Scotland he swore that, if the Scots returned, they would burn both the women and all they had.

Sir David Leslie (1600-82)

And besides these dangers, there were natural perils.  

The bubonic plague was close at hand.  In November 1644, it broke out in Richmond and it lasted a year.  About 700 people died.  Unnecessary gatherings and visits to other people's houses were banned, and in muddy and damp weather the people were told to keep their doors and windows shut.  People left the town if they could.  Hipswell escaped the infection, and every day Mrs Wandesford gave out food and money to beggars whose livelihoods had been lost in the outbreak. 

At this time, after the Battle of Marston Moor and the defeat of the Royalists in the North, Alice's sister Catherine and her family were living at Middleham Castle under the protection of Edward, Lord Loftus.  

Sir Thomas was there too, as Alice remembered.  He had commanded a Mashamshire regiment for the King and must have been taken by the Parliamentarians at Marston Moor because it is said that he was imprisoned for a long while.  Lord Loftus, on the other hand, was a Parliamentarian.  Sir Thomas will have known Lord Loftus and his family not only as neighbours but also from his own brief time in Dublin – Loftus's father was Adam Loftus, who had been Lord Chancellor of Ireland until his career was destroyed and he was ruined by Strafford.  Then he had returned to his small property at Coverham and Edward, who had been imprisoned by Strafford for a short while, married the heiress to nearby Middleham and its castle.  Perhaps Sir Thomas and Lord Loftus had always been personal friends – or perhaps it was simply that Loftus was extending a courtesy to a fellow member of the local gentry – and of course Catherine would be a welcome guest as the daughter of a man who didn't make enemies, unlike his friend Strafford – at any rate, there they were, safe inside a castle that Lord Loftus was garrisoning for Parliament at his own expense.  And there she had another baby.

Middleham Castle

Alice was asked to be godmother and so she set out from Hipswell for the baptism.  She was in good health, very hearty and strong, and when she came to the River Ure at Middleham she didn't hesitate to take her horse across rather than disappoint Catherine.  So she followed her mother's servant onto the causeway, which was marked by stoupes – standing posts.  But the river was deeper than they expected.  

She kept up her horse as well as she could but when they were gone so far that she could not turn back, the river proved past riding and she realised that the mare couldn't find the bottom.  With a fervent prayer, when she saw that the mare was swimming, Alice gave her the reins and all the help that she could, and she gripped the mare's mane.  The mare bore up her head and swam – about an eighth of a mile, Alice remembered – and they were saved.  When she reached the castle, she will have been soaked to the skin.

Note

Alice refers to the "river near Midlam, called Swale" – which is a tributary of the Ure.  But it must have been the Ure that she needed to cross because that's the river at Middleham.

Next: 9. Royalist disaster & private grief: 1645-7 

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

 Mrs Wandesford could now turn her mind to her sons' education.  

She need have no worries for her eldest, George.  He was happy and safe in France completing his education with Mr George Anderson, an excellent man and a wise scholar.  (He was also a Scot who was zealous for the Church of England, which must explain why he was an expatriate).  But fifteen-year-old Christopher was causing her a great deal of concern.  He was still suffering terribly from the fit of the spleen – the depression – that had gripped him since his father's funeral.  His torments, Alice remembered, were dreadful to witness.  Mrs Wandesford had exhausted every possible cure and the family's tender care had been unavailing.  But now she could send him to the famous physician Dr John Bathurst, who was in York. 

Dr John Bathurst (1607-59)

So in November 1643, Christopher was sent to York, where he was successfully treated by Dr Bathurst and where he could go to school.  At the same time, his younger brother John began to attend the Grammar School at Bedale.  Life looked very promising.

Unfortunately – 

On 15 September 1643 the King and the Irish rebels had signed a one year truce.  The King could now transfer troops from Ireland to England.  Not only that – he was planning to send Irish Catholic forces to Scotland to join with Royalists there.  But the very idea of Catholic forces was anathema to many in Scotland and England.  The Parliamentarians were now looking at defeat so they came together against their common enemy with the Scottish Covenanters.  On 25 September they signed their agreement – it was called the Solemn League and Covenant.  It was a military alliance and a religious pact.  The Covenanters intended England to have the same form of religion as the Scots.

On 19 January 1644, the Army of the Covenant under Alexander Leslie, Earl of Leven marched into England.  On 28 January, the Scottish advance guard was at Morpeth.  The garrison at Newcastle was inadequate – the Marquess of Newcastle led his men out of York to reinforce it, reaching there on 2 February with only hours to spare before the Scots arrived.

Alexander Leslie, 1st Earl of Leven (1581-1661)

For two months the armies manoeuvred against each other in Northumberland and County Durham, but on 12 April the Royalists were forced to evacuate Durham and Lumley Castle.  The Marquess of Newcastle aimed to make a stand at Piercebridge.

During the winter months, Mrs Wandesford had been considering her plans.  Friends advised her to move to York, where both Christopher and John could get an excellent education – and the prospect of a social life must have appealed to her, for herself and for Alice.  She had made up her mind to the plan, packed up her goods and they were on their way when they met with a messenger from a friend, Thomas Danby of South Cave.  He had sent them urgent word that they must turn back because York would soon be under siege.  This must have been just after 11 April, when Parliamentary forces had stormed and taken Selby and York was laid open to attack.  One of the commanders, Sir Thomas Fairfax of Denton Hall in the West Riding, wrote to a friend, 

The blow has made us Masters of the Field in Yorkshire, God grant we may maintain it; and then nothing can hinder us to Teese-side.

So Mrs Wandesford turned back.  She and her two children went to Kirklington, where the Revd Robert Dagget took them into his home until the Hall could be ready for their occupation.  But sixteen-year-old Christopher was in York.

When the Marquess of Newcastle heard of the loss of Selby, he had to leave Piercebridge and march south to reinforce York.  The Scots were coming south behind him.  On 14 April, they occupied Darlington.  The next day they were at Northallerton, where one Royalist regiment resisted them – a forlorn hope.  

The Marquess of Newcastle reached York on 18 April.  The city's Roman and mediaeval walls had been repaired and strengthened in 1642 and an outer ring of earthworks and forts built beyond the walls.  Cannon were mounted on Bootham Bar, Walmgate Bar, Monkgate Bar and Micklegate Bar, and on the castle itself.  The garrison was well provisioned and fully manned.  

On 22 April, the Army of Both Kingdoms – the Parliamentarians and and their Scottish allies – was at York.  The formidable city was now besieged and Christopher Wandesford was inside the walls.

York Castle in 1644

Notes

Dr John Bathurst was the founder of the Bathurst family fortunes.  They owned lead mines in Arkengarthdale and held the manor of Skutterskelfe for a hundred years from about 1659.  The Bathurst Charity is still active in Hutton Rudby.

Alice puts the Battle of Marston Moor as happening on the same day as they were turned back by the message from Mr Thomas Danby, but it's clear from the context that this was not the case. 

George Wandesford & the Battle of Marston Moor: July 1644

On 1 July 1644, the King's gifted young nephew Prince Rupert of the Rhine outwitted the Allied generals and raised the York siege.  The Allies had concentrated their troops on Marston Moor and Hessay Moor, the uncultivated common land to the west of York between Long Marston and Tockwith.  

Rupert of the Rhine (1619-82)

On 2 July at nine in the morning they learned that the Prince's army was approaching them.

There were now five armies at York.  On the Royalist side, there were the 18,000 men of the armies of the Prince and of the Marquess of Newcastle.  On the Allied side, there were 28,000 men made up of Lord Leven's Army of the Covenant, Lord Fairfax's Northern Association and the Earl of Manchester's Eastern Association.  Lieutenant-General Oliver Cromwell with his regiment of Ironsides formed part of the Eastern Association.  The coming battle – the Battle of Marston Moor – was to be the largest ever fought on English soil.

It was at this moment that 20 year old George Wandesworth arrived on the scene.

George had been obliged to come back from France, hoping to gather some funds from his Yorkshire estates because there was no income coming out of Ireland.  He had been to see his uncle Sir Edward Osborne at Kiveton, which lies about 10 miles east of Sheffield, and was now on his way home.  He and his uncle will have assumed that his best route would lie between Wetherby, which the Allies had taken some months ago, and the besiegers around York.  But Prince Rupert's rapid approach and the manoeuvres of the armies confounded his plans and he found himself among troops preparing for battle – and uncomfortably close to straggling parties of Allied soldiers.  He was glad to come upon his cousin Colonel Edmund Norton's troop of dragoons.  

When he realised what was going to happen, he decided he must go back into York and find his brother Christopher – and in the second lucky coincidence of his day he met young Kit riding out of the town with some other boys.  They were naively going off to see the battle.  A fine brotherly exchange must have taken place before George took his brother up behind him and set off home.  

And then his luck ran out.  He had been seen and recognised in the company of his cousin Edmund Norton and his behaviour was thought suspicious.  A party of Scots horse set off after them.  It was near midnight when George came at last to Kirklington.  He made his way quietly to the gate of the Hall by a back way, not wanting to attract notice by going through the village.  It must have created quite a stir in the household when he and Kit appeared.  

Behind them on Marston Moor, the Allies attacked at half past seven in the evening just as a thunderstorm broke and the Royalists had decided there would be no battle.  It was all over in two hours.  Thomas Danby of South Cave died that day, Alice said, shot to death with a cannon bullet, cut off by the midst of his body as he sat his horse.  The last stand was that of the Marquess of Newcastle's own Northerners, his Northumbrian Whitecoats, who refused quarter and died where they stood.  

Over 4,000 Royalists were dead, and about 300 Allies.  The Allied victory, won for them by Oliver Cromwell's cavalry, had not been inevitable but it was complete.  Two weeks later, the city of York surrendered.  The defeated Royalists were able, under the terms of the surrender, to march out with their arms and colours, on their way to Richmond and Carlisle – but they didn't all get there, because most of the men quickly deserted.   The gates of Micklegate Bar were opened and the victorious Allied armies came into York.   Its churches and the stained glass of the Minster were preserved from pillage and destruction by order of the Allied commanders who now held York for Parliament, the Yorkshiremen Lord Fairfax and his son Sir Thomas Fairfax.  

Sir Thomas Fairfax (1612-71)

This was the end of Royalist control of the North and the beginning of Oliver Cromwell's reputation as a military commander.  The Marquess of Newcastle left for Holland – his fortune had been spent in the King's course and he was unable, he said, to endure the laughter of the court.  Prince Rupert and the remaining Northern cavalry rode out of York on 4 July to Richmond and from there to Lancashire.  

On the coast, the strategically important Mulgrave Castle had been seized by the Royalists in 1642 – now Parliament retook it and used it as a prison.  At Stockton-on-Tees, which the King had been allowed to keep in his agreement with the Scots when they occupied County Durham, the castle's poorly paid and supplied garrison surrendered to the Scots without a fight on 24 July 1644.   

Some 25 miles to the north of York, Helmsley Castle was still held for the King.  In September it was besieged by Parliamentarian forces under Sir Thomas Fairfax himself, who defeated an attempt at rescue by Royalist forces from Knaresborough.  In November, the food ran out and the Royalist commander negotiated a surrender.  He was allowed to march his men off to join the forces holding Scarborough, while Sir Thomas ordered the castle at Helmsley to be slighted – the curtain walls and the east tower were broken down so that the ruin could not be garrisoned again.  Knaresborough castle itself surrendered after a six month siege – like Helmsley and Mulgrave castles, it too was slighted by Parliament.  Stockton castle was destroyed.  Sir Thomas Fairfax was badly wounded at Helmsley by a musket ball that broke his shoulder, but the Royalists who hoped that he would die of his injuries were to be disappointed.  His forces moved on to besiege Scarborough and its castle.  That was to be a long and bloody business.

Helmsley Castle.  [By Barkmatter CC BY-SA 3.0]

More than sixty miles to the north, the city of Newcastle had been holding out against the Scots, the North's old enemy, since they crossed the border.  After York fell, Newcastle had no chance – there was no possibility of a relief force.  In October, the western part of the walls were broken down by artillery bombardment and mines and the Scottish Covenanters fought their way into the city, the Royalist forces retreating into the Castle Keep.  One of the Scots described the horrors – the desperate courage on both sides, the thundering cannons roaring, the thousands of musket balls flying, the clangour and carvings of swords, the pushing of pike, the wailing of women, the carcasses of men like dead dogs in the streets.  The situation was hopeless and the Royalists surrendered.  

The Scots now controlled the Tyne and they had always been able to use the port of Sunderland on the River Wear – the men who ran Sunderland were Puritans and hostile to the King, and Sunderland had been on the side of the Covenanters from the beginning.

Next: 8. Mrs Wandesford moves to Hipswell: 1644-1645 

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 

5. War in Yorkshire: 1642-1643

In Chester, the Wandesfords found a welcome and were treated with kindness and friendship by the gentry families.  Within the strong walls of a city well-stocked with muskets, garrisoned by Royalist troops and with armed watchmen night and day guarding the gates, Mrs Wandesford must have felt she had reached a safe haven for her family and especially for her convalescent daughter and troubled son Christopher.  Refugees like themselves from Ireland were coming into the city, and lawlessness in Cheshire was driving people there, but Sir Thomas Danby was able to relieve her of the care of her grandsons and her twenty-year-old son George was safely in France with his tutor.  

She had many anxieties to deal with.  Besides the health of Alice and Christopher, there were matters from her husband's estates in an increasingly chaotic Ireland to settle, and she was short of money because rents from Yorkshire weren't arriving.  She didn't like to accept the offers of help from friends in Chester, but she had the invaluable support of her brother Sir Edward Osborne.  

Sir Edward Osborne (1596-1647)

He, poor man, had never recovered from the death of his eldest boy Edward in 1638.  Sir Edward had taken the place of Strafford as President of the Council of the North and was living at York Manor in York, the official residence, at the time.  A violent storm brought down a chimneystack which crashed through the roof, killing 17 year old Edward and sparing 6 year old Thomas only because, when the disaster happened, he was looking under a table for his pet cat.  Now Sir Edward was busy as a Commissioner of Array for the King, charged with mustering troops.

York Manor (now King's Manor).  [Tim Green CC by 2.0]

Outside Chester the situation was bad.  

The Wandesfords knew that Scottish troops were no longer in easy reach of their Yorkshire estates – they had left England in August – but now dreadful news kept coming in from Ireland of cruelties and massacres.  Even more appalling versions of the same news, of much larger numbers of Protestants dead, of rapes and tortures and murdered babies, came from the London printers and propagandists.  Anglicans like the Wandesfords were shocked to hear of the desecration of the cathedrals of Winchester and Chichester by Parliamentary troops who smashed the stained glass and the memorials.  Alice shared the opinions of everyone she knew – the King's Scottish and English opponents were men who had wantonly tired of a lawful and peaceable government, the Irish nakedly thirsted after the blood and lives of the English, the religious grievances of the Calvinists and Catholics were nothing but pretence, and the Earl of Strafford was a martyr.  

Yorkshire and the Battle of Piercebridge: 1642

Beyond the walls of Chester – and even within the walls – conflicting loyalties were dividing families, towns and villages.  

London grew too dangerous for the King and he set up his Court in York on 19 March 1642.  The city found itself the capital of the kingdom for six months, housing foreign ambassadors, nobles, the important men of state and a committee sent by Parliament to keep an eye on the King.  

Rival Puritan and Royalist groups fought each other in the streets.  Terrifying stories of massacres in Ireland began to reach Yorkshire and wild fears of Catholic Irish invasion took root.  Having two Catholic priests executed – the head of Father Lockwood, aged nearly 90, was put on Bootham Bar, and the head of young Edmund Catterick of Carlton near Richmond, on Micklegate Bar – couldn't convince doubters that Protestantism was safe in the King's hands.  And it was no use the King decreeing that no Catholics could join his army – at the muster, anyone could see that nearly half the Royalist colonels were Catholic.  Recruitment for Parliament surged among the lower classes in the West Riding.  As time passed and the hope of finding an agreement between the two sides faded, the city authorities began to strengthen York's defences.  

On 22 August 1642, the King marched southward and raised his standard at Nottingham Castle.  He was now at war with Parliament.  

On 23 September, the Wandesfords will have seen the King being enthusiastically welcomed into Chester with great civic ceremony.  He was there because it was an important strategic stronghold, the main port for Ireland and the gateway to Royalist North Wales and he spent a few nights in the city, reviewing the troops of his supporters, before moving on to Wrexham.  A month later, his forces and the Parliamentarians met in battle for the first time.  It was at Edgehill, a dozen miles south-east of Stratford-upon-Avon, and both sides claimed victory.

And what about Yorkshire, where Alice's sister Catherine must now have been in great anxiety for her husband, who had gone to join the King's army?

Hull was held for Parliament by Sir John Hotham and Scarborough by the Whitby landowner Sir Hugh Cholmley, and the independently-minded weavers and small farmers of the West Riding were mostly Puritans, but the North Riding was for the King and the few Parliamentarians there had a poor time of it.  They included men like the Earl of Mulgrave, the three sons of Sir David Foulis of Ingleby – their father had spent seven years in prison because of Strafford – and their cousins Thomas and James Chaloner of Guisborough.  The Robinsons of Rokeby near Greta Bridge were ardent Parliamentarians.  John Dodsworth of Thornton Watlass, a kinsman of the Wandesfords, was raising a company of dragoons for Parliament.

Parliamentarian captains met at Bedale in October 1642.  They tried to organise the Trained Bands and they held a public meeting in Richmond to raise funds.  But the fund-raising wasn't very successful and the Trained Bands weren't at all keen.  Very many people wanted to keep out of this argument and in some places communities made neutrality pacts with each other.  Before long, force and threats were being used to get recruits.  Hugh Cholmley of Tunstall near Catterick first tricked his neighbours into mustering for his son's troop of Royalist horse and then forced them to stay in the troop, threatening he would have them hanged and their houses burned if they didn't.

Both King and Parliament needed control of the crossing places on the River Tees.  The Royalists were bringing in supplies of arms from the Continent into the River Tyne.  They were needed for York, which was threatened from the west and from the Parliamentarian ports of Hull and Scarborough to the east.

William Cavendish, Marquess of Newcastle, was the Royalist commander-in-chief in the North East.  His army of about 2,000 horse and dragoons, together with 4,000 foot soldiers and ten pieces of cannonry reached the narrow mediaeval bridge at Piercebridge on 1 December 1642.  On the other bank of the Tees was Captain John Hotham with about 120 horse, 400 foot and two small cannons.  

William Cavendish, Marquess of Newcastle

An advance guard of Royalist dragoons and foot under 36 year old Colonel Sir Thomas Howard forced its way onto the bridge and fierce fighting followed.  Finally unable to hold the bridge, Hotham withdrew his men towards Knaresborough with, he said, only three wounded.  The attackers will have suffered more in their onslaught on the bridge and their leader Sir Thomas Howard was killed.  He was buried the next day at High Coniscliffe while the Marquess of Newcastle and his forces marched on to York.   

Battles at Guisborough and Yarm: 1643

The loss of Piercebridge and the arrival in York of the supplies was an enormous blow to the Parliamentarian gentry of the North Riding.  Their goods and estates were confiscated and they couldn't help their friends in the West Riding because the men of the Trained Bands, who had turned up so reluctantly, simply melted away.  Sir Henry Foulis of Ingleby reported that a Cleveland foot regiment that had mustered 500 men at Yarm had rapidly dwindled to 80 at the approach of the enemy.  

Meanwhile, someone the Wandesfords had known in Dublin had returned home to his estates at Hemlington, just south of the Tees.  This was 32 year old Guilford Slingsby, who had been Strafford's loyal secretary to the end and who had since been secretary to the young Prince of Wales in Holland.  

Slingsby had no military experience himself, so he had brought back with him a few mercenaries to train the troops he intended to raise for the King.  They were needed to protect the arms convoys crossing the Tees and to threaten the Parliamentarians in Scarborough.

Sir Hugh Cholmley in Scarborough learned that his distant kinsman Slingsby had orders from the Marquess of Newcastle to occupy Whitby – which was his own territory, where he had his great house beside the ruins of the ancient Abbey.  Picking up two troops of dragoons in Malton, he took his men on the hard, wintry march across the moors towards Guisborough.  He had with him 80 horse, 170 dragoons and 130 foot – some 380 men in all.

On 16 January 1643, Cholmley's men came down from the moors.  Slingsby's forces – some 100 horse and 400 foot, mostly raw recruits – were so confident that they came about a mile out of Guisborough to meet the Parliamentary troops and they placed their musketeers under the hedges in positions of advantage.  They were able to hold their ground for a couple of hours but they were gradually forced back and defeated.  Slingsby, badly wounded by artillery fire, was taken prisoner.  The surgeons tried to save him, amputating both his legs above the knee, but he died three days later.  He was buried in York Minster.  

When Sir Hugh Cholmley, who had moderate religious views and was becoming ever more unhappy with his choice of allegiance, reported the battle to Parliament, he wrote

I am forced to draw my sword not only against my countrymen but many near friends and allies some of which I know both to be well affected in religion and lovers of their liberties.

He withdrew his men to Scarborough, and he ordered 400 foot, 150 horse and two cannons to Yarm to hold the narrow bridge over the Tees.  

A few weeks later, a very large convoy of 120 wagons and 140 packhorses, guarded by perhaps 2,000 men, was on its way south to the Marquess of Newcastle.  The Parliamentary forces at the bridge had no chance.  On 1 February 1643 the Royalists fell on them and in a very brief time most of them were taken.  The Battle of Yarm was soon over.  The prisoners were taken to Durham Castle, where they were badly treated.  The Royalist convoy left engineers at Yarm to stop future Parliamentarian attempts on the bridge – they broke down its northern arch and put a wooden drawbridge in its place.  

Within weeks, Sir Hugh Cholmley had changed sides.  The King now held Scarborough.  On 30 June, the Marquess of Newcastle won a victory at the Battle of Adwalton Moor, five miles from Bradford.  The North was now almost completely Royalist.

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

4. War in the Three Kingdoms: 1640

With Wentworth now the King's closest adviser and soon in virtual command of his armies, Mr Wandesford became Lord Deputy of Ireland on 1 April 1640.  

He was left with an increasingly impossible task, as developments in Scotland and England interacted with the grievances of Ireland.  To add to his worries and forebodings, Wentworth had just made another bitter enemy.  On being made Earl of Strafford, he had chosen for his secondary title to be Baron Raby.  Why cause so needlessly such deep offence to Sir Henry Vane of Raby Castle?  Mr Wandesford himself would never accept a title or honours – he felt it was unsuitable in those unsettled times that threatened the King's own future.

Scots musketeers, from website of The Earl of Manchester's Regiment of Foote 

In early September Mr Wandesford will have heard with utter dismay that the King's attempt at another campaign against the Covenanting Scots had only produced the invasion of England and the Covenanters' victory over the Royalist forces at the Battle of Newburn on the River Tyne.  The border between Scotland and England was now at the River Tees.  So Scottish troops were only a few miles from the Wandesford estates.  To add insult to injury, a fortnight after the battle, the King signed the Treaty of Ripon agreeing to pay £850 a day to the Scottish soldiers' upkeep.  

Musket ball: found about 5
miles south of Sedgefield

The Irish Parliament grew ever more difficult to manage and was now trying to  impeach Strafford.  It would be no use Strafford advising his old friend to subdue them by holding firm, saying his "old rule of moderate counsels will not serve his turn in cases of this extremity".  Strafford was always supremely confident that his own bold and dictatorial methods would succeed.  Alice often heard Mr Wandesford speak to his wife of his forebodings for the future of the kingdoms.  

In the middle of November, Mr Wandesford learned that his colleague Sir George Radcliffe was about to be accused of High Treason and that the English Parliament had started impeachment proceedings against his great friend Wentworth, now Strafford.  On hearing this, Mr Wandesford sat in a sort of trance.  

Not long afterwards he was taken ill with a fever and kept at home for some days.  Feeling well again, he attended church but realised on coming home that he had not fully recovered.  He took to his bed again and soon the fever grew on him.  He did not expect to get better and he prepared for death.   

On the Tuesday he called for his Will, which he had executed the month before, to be read over to him in the presence of witnesses.  He spoke at length to his son George, urging him to fear and love God, to do his duty, to love and honour his mother and always to consult his uncle Sir Edward Osborne.  He had no doubt that the three kingdoms were heading for disaster.  He would call Alice, now nearly fifteen, to his bedside and, looking at her steadily, say, "Ah poor child, what must thou see and thine eyes behold," and, praying for her, turn away with a great groan.  

On the Wednesday night, the doctors laid live pigeons, cut in half, to the soles of his feet – a sure way to bring down even the most malignant fever.  "Are you come to the last remedy?" he asked them, smiling.  He knew that his illness would outwit their skill.  He died on Thursday 3 December 1640 at home in Damas Street, after declaring his faith and hope in God to Bishop Bramhall of Derry, a Yorkshireman he had known for many years, who gave him absolution.  He was forty-eight.

When they embalmed his body, they found that his heart was decayed on one side and this was felt to be because of the burden of work and care that he had carried.  They buried him with state in Christ Church under a marble slab before the Lord Deputy's seat.  

Mr Wandesford had faced many problems but he believed in conciliation and moderation and he didn't make enemies.  At his funeral, the Irish paid him the high tribute of keening for him – singing a lament.  It was never known to be have done for an Englishman before, Alice remembered, and when the unearthly, mournful cry of 'Och – Ochone' was raised, it so terrified her grieving twelve-year-old brother Christopher that from that time, she said, he fell into a fit of the spleen – a serious depression.

Cannon ball: found about 5 
miles south of Sedgefield

Notes

The King's campaigns against his Scottish kingdoms in 1639 and 1640 are known as The Bishops' Wars.

Keening, which in time became a profession for women, was strongly discouraged by Protestant clergymen in later years.  A BBC World Service Documentary called Songs for the Dead, including audio recorded in the 1950s of one of the last professional keeners, Brigid Mullin, can be heard here 

And a hint of how it must have sounded at Christ Church in 1640 when it so frightened young Christopher Wandesford can be gleaned from this video of Professor Ó Madagáin giving a verse of the Caoineadh Art Ó Laoghaire (Keen for Art O’Leary) followed by the Cry or Gol, the "Och ochón", which is the "hone" that Alice mentions.  Imagine this being unexpectedly sung full-throated by a great gathering of people

War comes to Ireland: 1641

The shocked and grieving family stayed on in the house at Damas Street.  Mrs Wandesford was a woman of great strength of character.  She was preparing to leave, but she kept up the great household as befitted the Lord Deputy's widow while she paid off the debts and discharged the servants.  The expense was a worry because she couldn't get at her own money in England, but the King had promised that the funeral would be paid for out of the Treasury and that the estate wouldn't have the cost of George's wardship – he was yet another underage Wandesford heir.  George was now seventeen and she sent him out of Ireland to finish his education. 

So Mrs Wandesford, the three younger children and her two little grandsons were still in Dublin when they heard that their family friend the Earl of Strafford had been condemned to death by an act of attainder when legal proceedings by Parliament against him had failed.  He was executed before a large crowd on Tower Hill on 12 May – murdered, as far as Alice and her family were concerned.  His many enemies, including Sir Henry Vane of Raby Castle and Sir Thomas Layton of Sexhow, had finally succeeded and his King's slipperiness and political mistakes had been fatal to him.  

And the Wandesfords were still in Dublin when the Irish Rebellion broke out on 23 October 1641.

Long-term grievances and the short-term hardships of poor harvests and economic difficulties had come to a head.  The descendants of the Norman French lords and the descendants of the Irish whom they had conquered had drawn together in the face of hostility from their Protestant rulers.  Ulster landowners had planned a preemptive strike so they could, like the Scots, take over their kingdom and force concessions from the King.  They succeeded in Ulster but they were betrayed in Dublin and they failed to take the city.  Their bloodless coup had failed.  Massacres of Ulster Protestants and bloody war were the result.  The extreme violence of the uprising was followed by the extreme violence of the retaliation.

When the plot was discovered, wild rumours spread through Dublin.  That night Mrs Wandesford and her household, with everything they could take, fled into the safety of the Castle.  

The next fortnight was spent in the city, packing up to leave in a nightmare time of fear and constant alarms.  Terrified, short of sleep, food and rest, fifteen-year-old Alice fell ill of a desperate flux, a dysentery which they called the Irish Disease.  But Mrs Wandesford found a ship that would take them all and they had a safe and quiet passage across the Irish Sea.  

Safely ashore, they stayed several weeks in the beerhouse at Neston Quay because Alice was so ill.  Sickness and grief had taken a heavy toll on this tender, loving, sensitive girl, who was prone all her life to ominous dreams foretelling family deaths.  A doctor came out from Chester to see her and she was cared for lovingly by her mother until at last she gained enough strength to make the journey by coach to Chester, or Weschester as it was still often called.

Note

The Irish rebellion and the war that followed is known as the Confederate War, from the Confederation of Kilkenny formed by the rebels in May 1642.

5. War in Yorkshire: 1642-1643