Finding that he had deceived Waller, the king now marched back with all expedition to Worcester, thence again to Evesham, and the same night to Broadway, where he quartered his army. "From thence," says Clarendon, in his picturesque narrative of this interesting expedition, "they mounted the hills near Camden; and there they had time to breathe, and to look down with pleasure on the places they had passed through; having now left Waller, and the ill ways he must pass through, far behind; for even in that season of the year, the ways in that vale were very deep." Charles now sent messengers to Oxford, with orders to the troops left there to join him, with his cannon, at Burford. The alacrity and joy evinced in obeying this order, enhanced the satisfaction with which he once more found himself in his old quarters, surrounded by his loyal cavaliers, after a harrassing and wearisome march of seventeen days; during which his fortitude had been tried by "accidents and perplexities to which majesty has been seldom exposed," and his abilities in the field put to a test which entitles them to respect.

The king had no intention to remain idle. Having shortly rested and recruited his army, he marched to meet Waller, now on his return to seek him; and, upon the 28th of June, discovered that general's army, which had by this time been strengthened by a reinforcement of about 1000 horse and foot from Warwick and Coventry, drawn up, in order of battle, at the foot of a hill on the west of Banbury. Both parties spent the night in the field, separated from each other

by the river Charwell. The following day occurred the series of spirited skirmishes, known as the fight at Copredy Bridge. The brunt of that irregular action lay chiefly between the Earl of Cleveland, and Middleton, Waller's lieutenant - general. The ultimate advantage was evidently on the royalist side; for Waller lost all his ordnance, and was so weakened by the capture and dispersion of his forces, that he presently returned, without making any further attempt, to London. The king, meantime, marched westward, in pursuit of Essex.

The celebrated letter, already alluded to, in which Charles, in great alarm at the intelligence from York, "commanded and conjured" his nephew to march to the relief of that city, found Rupert surrounded by a fresh halo of military glory. A short time before, he had relieved Newark, besieged by Sir John Meldrum— one of the most brilliant exploits, of that kind, performed in the whole war; had taken Stockport, Bolton, and Liverpool; and had raised the siege of Lathom House, the mansion of the Earl of Derby, so gallantly defended against the parliament's forces, by the countess. It is impossible, even in the midst of the attraction and hurry of more important actions, to omit, the particulars of this heroic defence.

The earl had gone over to protect his hereditary dominions in the Isle of Man, from the threatened invasion of the parliamentarians. Scarcely had he reached the isle, when the countess, whom he had left in charge of Lathom, received secret intelligence that her house would shortly be attacked. She instantly

called in the aid of the gentlemen of the county, and made all provisions requisite for a defence, with so much secrecy and despatch, that when, shortly afterwards, Fairfax appeared before the place, he was surprised to find that resistance was contemplated. He sent a trumpet to require a conference with the countess; to this she agreed, but detained the messenger, while," to make the best show she could, she placed her inefficient and unarmed men on the walls, and tops of the towers, and marshalled all her soldiers in good order, with their respective officers, from the main guard in the first court to the great hall," where she calmly awaited the visit of her enemy. The meeting was conducted, on both sides, with much courtesy and apparent respect. Fairfax proposed to her an honourable and secure removal, with her family and retinue, to Knowsley Hall; an engagement that she should remain there free from molestation; and half the earl's revenues for her support. She replied, "I am here under a double trust-of faith to my lord, and of allegiance to my king: give me a month to consider my answer." Fairfax refused. "Then I hope, sir, that you will excuse me," rejoined the countess, "if I preserve my honour and obedience, though it be to my ruin." A fortnight passed, before the general had decided on his method of attack. He then sent in military form to demand an immediate surrender. The countess answered, that "she had not yet forgotten what she owed to the church of England, to her prince, and to her lord; and that till she had lost her honour, or her life, she would defend that

place." Scarcely had the besiegers begun their trenches, when the noble lady ordered a body of 200 men to sally out upon them, who slew sixty, and returned with the loss of only two of their own party. The assailants now proceeded more warily, but were so often interrupted by the defenders, in the formation of their lines, that little progress was made. At length, after having spent three months before the place, they approached the moat, and planted a powerful battery. Among the guns on this battery was a mortar of unusual dimensions. A shot thrown from this piece fell into an apartment where the countess and her children were at dinner. The heroine rose from the table, ascertained that no one was hurt, and instantly ordered another sally; in which all the guns of the enemy were spiked or flung into the moat, except the huge mortar, which the brave garrison dragged in triumph into the fortress. In the midst of incessant annoyance from the enemy, the besiegers contrived to repair their battery the work was no sooner completed than they were once more dispersed, their cannon spiked, and the intrepid party of royalists again retired, almost unhurt, within their walls, leaving a hundred parliamentarians dead upon the spot. In all these actions the admirable countess encouraged the soldiers by her presence, and frequently exposed herself to personal danger. Nor did the inspiring example of her piety less contribute to maintain their valour: no action was attempted without previous prayer for success; no success was received without solemn thanksgiving. At length Fairfax, accustomed to victory, lost all patience.