A (23:12)
True to his word, Sir Edmund Verney perished defending his king's banner, cut down in a ferocious melee. Vernie's severed hand was still clutching the standards pole. With Prince Rupert absent from the battlefield, Essex's superior infantry pressed their advantage against the Royalist foot soldiers. The King's forces fought, and at one desperate moment, Charles's sons, including the future Charles ii, almost fell into enemy hands. The royal cause seemed on the brink of immediate collapse. But as daylight began to fade around half past four, Prince Rupert finally returned with his cavalry, having ridden miles in pursuit of his fleeing enemy. In a daring counter attack, Captain John Smith of Lord Grandison's horse heroically recaptured the royal standard. Rupert's returning cavalry forced the Parliamentarians to withdraw. The day's fighting was over. Night fell upon a gruesome scene. Hundreds dead, thousands wounded, and soldiers from both armies forced to sleep hungry and without shelter amid a bitter frost. The battle had lasted barely two and a half hours, yet its brutality shocked a nation unused to such bloodletting. On home soil, though, the Battle of Edgehill is often considered a draw, the King had gained an important strategic advantage. Essex retreated northward to the security of Warwick, leaving the road to London temporarily open. Had Charles immediately pressed his advantage and marched on the capital, the war might have ended swiftly. But instead the King moved cautiously, capturing Banbury on 27 October and Oxford on 29 October, where he set up his headquarters for the remainder of the war. The delay proved costly. It allowed Essex to race back to London via Northampton and gather reinforcements. By the time Charles approached London in November, Essex had organised a formidable defence, reinforced by the 6,000 to 8,000 strong London trained bands. At the Battle of Turnham Green on 13 November, the Royalists, now outnumbered two to one, were forced to withdraw. The opportunity for a quick victory had slipped away. What many had hoped would be a single show of force, a token battle to purge the nation's ills, instead revealed the brutal reality of a conflict that would tear the country apart for four more years. There was no going back. The Rubicon had been crossed. By mid-1643, the Royalists had gained momentum. In July, the King's forces stormed Bristol, England's second largest city and a vital port. This significant victory expanded Charles I's control over the west and seemed to shift the war in his favor. Buoyed by these successes, the King sought to press his advantage. The parliamentarian cause seemed on the brink of collapse. In the West. But a siege in Gloucester forced Parliament's hand. The Earl of Essex led a desperate relief force, breaking the siege and then, harried by Prince Rupert's cavalry, began a hard fought retreat towards London. For 10 days and across 60 miles, Essex's battered army was pursued relentlessly. Prince Rupert slowed the Parliamentarians enough for the Royalist main force to block their road home at Newbury, which found itself at the heart of the kingdom's fate. At dawn on 20 September 1643, Essex's men seized the high ground Round Hill and Wash Common, gaining a crucial tactical advantage. The move robbed the Royalists of the initiative, forcing them to attack uphill and through a patchwork of hedges, lanes and enclosures that blunted their cavalry's power. The Parliamentarian artillery opened fire on Sir Nicholas Byron's advancing Royalist infantry. Fierce fighting erupted as Royalist musketeers ran low on powder, only for Rupert's cavalry to charge and regain the lost ground. Yet the enclosed fields hampered the cavalry's effectiveness. Parliament's inventory, entrenched behind hedgerows, held firm. Throughout the day, the battle raged across the fields and lanes. The Parliamentarians, reinforced by the London trained bands, withstood repeated Royalist assaults. In the north, near the River Kennet, a stalemate developed as neither side found it possible to gain ground. The fighting was brutal and personal. Lord Falkland, a Royalist luminary, was killed leading a charge, a symbol of the day's high cost. As evening fell, both armies were exhausted and bloodied. The Royalists, critically low on ammunition and unable to break Essex's lines, withdrew under cover of darkness into Newbury. The Parliamentarians, battered but unbroken, held the field. The battle ended indecisively, but with Essex's force achieving its crucial objective, the road to London remained open. The Parliamentarians, though suffering heavy losses, were able to retreat safely and Essex returned to London to a hero's welcome. The Royalists, meanwhile, were left to count their dead and wounded, including several high ranking officers. Their failure to destroy Essex's army marked another turning point. The Royalist advance in the south was halted. The psychological blow was profound. As 1643 drew to a close, both sides sought outside allies. What had begun as a struggle between King and Parliament in England had transformed into an interlocking series of conflicts. The wars of the Three Kingdoms. Earlier in the year, Parliament had secured an alliance with the Scottish Covenanters through the Solemn League and Covenant. This wasn't merely a military pact, but a religious and political agreement with far reaching implications. The Scots agreed to send an army to aid Parliament in return for promises to reform the Church of England along Presbyterian lines and to preserve the Scottish Presbyterian system. While the English parliamentarians viewed this primarily as a military necessity, for the Scots, it was a sacred covenant to advance true religion across Britain. In January 1644, a Scottish Covenanter army of 20,000 men crossed the border into England, dramatically altering the military balance. The entry of Scottish forces into northern England significantly strengthened Parliament's position. Meanwhile, in Ireland, the conflict had evolved into a war that would go on for 11 years. A complex, multi sided struggle that would prove even more devastating than the fighting in England. The Confederation of Kilkenny effectively governed much of Ireland as a de facto independent Catholic state. They professed loyalty to to Charles I while fighting to secure religious freedom and recover confiscated lands. The Confederate Supreme Council sent diplomatic missions to Catholic powers across Europe, receiving financial and military support from the Papacy, Spain and France. By the summer of 1644, Yorkshire became the crucible where the war's fate would be forged. York, the Royalist stronghold in the north, was besieged by a combined force of Parliamentarians and Scottish Covenanters. Prince Rupert gathered a relief force and marched north, determined to break the siege and crush the allied army. The Marquis of Newcastle defending York faced overwhelming odds as the allied armies encircled the city. Prince Rupert's approach was bold and unorthodox. He outmanoeuvred the besiegers by seizing a bridge of boats and relieving York without a direct fight. Yet his triumph was incomplete. He insisted on drawing Newcastle's forces out for a decisive battle, believing he carried the King's command to destroy the enemy at once. Newcastle hesitated, wary of his opponents, superior numbers and the exhaustion of his own men. But Rupert's will prevailed. The Royalist and allied armies could converged on the open fields of Marston Moor west of York, setting the stage for one of the largest and bloodiest battles ever fought on English soil. On 2 July 1644, the armies faced one another across the moor. The Parliamentarian and Covenanter alliance, numbering more than 28,000 men, outnumbered the royalists, who could muster only around 18,000. The parliamentarian left wing, commanded by a little known castle cavalry commander called Oliver Cromwell, was anchored on a ridge with his disciplined Eastern association cavalry, soon to earn the name Ironsides, supported by Scottish horse and dragoons.