places; and, in his regular way, Rupert galloped after the fugitives, thinking no more of the main battle. But the scattered horse, who had been diligently taught to rally, collected behind him, returned to the defence of their guns, and were soon again ready for action. On the other hand, Cromwell had driven the left wing of the king's army off the field, but took care not to pursue them too far. He sent a few companies of horse to drive them beyond the battle, and with his main body he fell on the king's flank, where at first the royal foot was gaining the advantage. This unexpected assault threw them into confusion, and the soldiers of Fairfax's front which had given way, rallying and falling in again with the reserve as they came to the rear, were brought up by their officers and completed the route. Rupert, who was now returning from the chase, rode up to the wagon-train of the parliamentary army, and, ignorant of the state of affairs, offered the troops guarding the stores quarter. The reply was a smart volley of musketry, and, falling back and riding forward to the field, he found, as usual, a regular defeat. His followers stood stupefied at the sight, when Charles, riding up to them in despair, cried frantically, 'One charge more and the victory is ours yet!' But it was in vain, the main body was broken, that of Fairfax was complete; the artillery was seized, and the Roundheads were taking prisoners as fast as they could promise them quarter. Fairfax and Cromwell the next moment charged the confounded horse, and the whole fled at full gallop on the road towards Leicester, pursued almost to the gates of the town by Cromwell's troopers.

"The slaughter at this battle was not so great as might have been expected. May, the historian, says that the slain did not exceed four hundred men, three hundred of the royalists and one hundred of the parliamentarians; but five thousand prisoners were taken, including a great number of officers, and a considerable number of ladies in carriages. All the king's baggage and artillery, with nine thousand stand of arms were taken, and amongst the carriages that of the king's, containing his private papers. . . . . Clarendon accuses the Roundheads of killing above a hundred women, many of them of quality, but other evidence proves that this was false; the only women who were roughly treated were a number of wild Irish ones, who were armed with skeans, knives a foot long, and who used them like so many maniacs."

After the defeat of Naseby the king retreated with that body of horse which still remained entire, first to Hereford, then to Abergavenny, and

continued sometime in Wales. There he vainly hoped for assistance, and there he received intelligence of the most ominous character, cities and fortresses falling before the victorious arms of the Commons. At the beginning of the year 1646, Newark and Oxford were the only places of any consequence that still held out for the king. The king himself had returned to Oxford, and there he was closely besieged by the united armies of the English and Scotch. Finding himself hard pressed he escaped from Oxford in disguise and wandered from county to county and castle to castle without any fixed or definite purpose.

So King Charles made his way to the Scottish army and resigned himself into the hands of its leaders. The Scots immediately informed the English commissioner residing with them of this extraordinary event, and intelligence was despatched to Parliament. Meanwhile Charles ordered the governor of Newark to surrender to Leven, the Scottish general; Oxford surrendered to Fairfax by a capitulation whose principal articles were that the Duke of York should be granted a suitable convoy from the city of London, where the king's other children then resided, and honorable provision made for him and them; that the princes Rupert and Maurice

with all the monarch's chief friends should be permitted to return to the continent; and that the university should be left in uninterrupted possession of its privileges and immunities.

The surrender of Oxford was the end of the first civil war between the king and the Commons.

As for the Scottish reception of the king, while it was marked by a great show of respect, it soon became a virtual imprisonment. The guard of honour which escorted his royal person simply consisted of so many gaolers, and while every outward sign of loyalty was made, a private understanding was being conducted with the English Parliament, by which, for the sum of two hundred thousand pounds-voted as arrears of pay-the king was to be resigned into the hands of the Commons. No actual mention of the person of the king was made in the articles thus concluded, but it was well understood on both sides. The Lords voted that the king might reside at Newmarket; but the Commons agreed that Holmby House, situate in his own manor of Holmby, would be the fitter place; and the lower house, as was become usual with them, carried the matter their own way.

Charles

The resolution thus arrived at was speedily carried into effect. was playing chess-trying manfully to keep his king out of check, when he learned what was intended: he manifested no emotion-lost or won, history saith not, but finished the game; and so in course of time found himself-marvellous spectacle to Europe, yet strange to revolution—a prisoned king, left "in stately seclusion to await the destinies." Six and thirty carts had trundelled down to Northallerton with the money-the Scots had duly counted it and given formal receipt.

The king had been conducted to Holmby by easy stages. Thousands flocked around him, and cries of "God save your majesty," were often heard. It was the practice then for kings sometimes to "touch for the evil," that is, lay their royal hands on persons afflicted with the scrofula, who were straightway expected to recover. On his way to Holmby, Charles performed this ceremony, but whether many or any were healed there is no record. In the solitude of Holmby he amused himself as well as he could with the civilities of the country gentry, playing chess— a game, for which he had a singular fascination-and riding over to Harrowden to play at bowls.

Thus passed away three months, the Commons taking no further notice whatever of the king, the king anxiously expecting to hear something