Reliving the Battle of Worcester

This post is a repost of a blog I wrote following my 2015 visit to the city of Worcester, site of the last full scale pitched battle on English soil - 3 September 1651.
For the supporters of the young King Charles II it was the end of their dreams of restoring the monarchy and the beginning of almost ten long year of 'republican' rule known as the Interregnum, ending with the restoration of Charles II in 1660.
My 3 book series GUARDIANS OF THE CROWN covers this period of the Interregnum and for the three main characters (Jonathan - BY THE SWORD, Kit - THE KING'S MAN and Daniel - EXILE'S RETURN) the Battle of Worcester defined the rest of their lives. 
On a canal bank in Worcester, I met with my 'imaginary friends' and we walked their battle... 

The 3rd September marked the 364th anniversary of the Battle of Worcester, the defining event of the Guardians of the Crown series which begins with the battle itself (BY THE SWORD).

Worcester Cathedral

My family has had a long, long association with Worcester, most notably boasting a High Sheriff of Worcester (my great grandfather) and a well respected MP and County Councillor (my grandfather) and my father served under the colours of the now defunct Worcestershire Regiment. 

In May this year I returned (or, in a sense, went home) - on a canal boat (a whole other story!). My last visit to Worcester had been some twenty plus years ago when I was researching a little story I was writing about the Battle of Worcester. That little story became BY THE SWORD... which flowed on to THE KING'S MAN and on to Book 3, EXILES' RETURN (which comes out next February). I wanted to write about a group of friends/comrades and what this seminal battle of the English Civil War meant to them and their families.

Our canal boat traverses the Sidbury Lock - The Commandery on the left

We moored our canal boat below the Sidbury Lock within spitting distance of The Commandery and the site of what was once the Sidbury Gate through the walls of the old city (now long since gone). Having an afternoon free, I abandoned my travelling companions and stepped down on to the tow path of the canal (which had not been there in 1651). They were waiting for me - Jonathan Thornton, Giles Longley, Kit Lovell and his brother Daniel, the Guardians of Crown, my companions from the past and they would be my guides for the afternoon.

AS outside The Commandery

We began with The Commandery (that was its name long before the events of 1651). In its past it had been a merchant's house, a hospital and in 1651 became the Headquarters for Charles II.

(Jonathan) attended the meetings at the Commandery and concluded the house had been wrongly named. He saw precious little evidence of command taking place within its walls...In the endless councils that took place in the hall the young King found himself assailed from all sides by conflicting advice.  (BY THE SWORD)

From The Commandery we set off up the hill to Fort Royal where a royalist battery had been established to defend the approach to Worcester along the Sidbury road. I won't go into the details of the battle itself (I've written about it elsewhere...click HERE). Suffice to say that while the royalists held Fort Royal, Cromwell had taken Red Hill and Perry Hill. The king himself led an attack on Red Hill but was driven back to the city. Fort Royal fell, the royalist defenders slaughtered to a man and the guns turned on the city itself.

My American readers may be interested to know that it was on this hill that an oak tree was planted in commemoration of a visit by Thomas Jefferson who is quoted as reminding all Englishmen that it was at Worcester that the concept of Liberty was fought for... you can read his quote on the plaque below...

My companions led me back down the hill toward Sidbury Gate... 

The Parliament guns had been brought to bear on the gate, turning the retreat into

wholesale slaughter. Amidst the screaming of man and beast, the carnage of blood and guts and with shot pounding into the walls and the city, the King managed to get back through the gate. Jonathan followed through the confusion, scrambling over an overturned oxen cart to reach his King. (BY THE SWORD)

No trace of the gate or walls remain today (destroyed for the building of the canal in the 1760s), just one small plaque on a wall marks its existence. We turned into the city and down one of the last remaining authentic city streets - Friar Street (curse those 70s redevelopments!). Still lined with half timbered houses, it is only here one can still get a feeling for 17th century Worcester.

Wilmot pulled at Jonathan’s arm and they both ran up Friar Street, toward the King’s lodging. Jonathan took only one look back to see Giles, fighting like a virago, a small defence against the mass of red-coated soldiers who now flooded into the city from all gates except one: St Martin’s Gate stood close by the King’s lodging and remained as yet unbreached. (BY THE SWORD)

Friar Street

It was here in Friar Street that Jonathan, Giles, Kit and Daniel lodged in a house that may have looked a little like Greyfriars (now a National Trust property). Here they played cards on the night before the battle. 

Another evening at the Commandery had ended in bickering and Jonathan trudged wearily back up Friar Street to his billet ... In the downstairs parlour of the large, half-timbered house, Giles played cards with Kit Lovell, who had recently rejoined them. They were both fiendish card players, with a tendency to cheat, and Jonathan declined their invitation to join them.  (BY THE SWORD)

The parlour of Greyfriars where the Guardians played cards on the night before the battle... maybe...

Further up Friar Street we came to the building now known as The Charles II house (and rather ignomiously - a pie shop) which

had been the King's Lodgings and from which he escaped.

They found the King within his lodgings, watching uncomprehendingly as Buckingham burned papers on a hastily lit fire.

‘We must go, Your Majesty,’ Wilmot said.

The King looked up at his old friend and advisor. ‘Leslie will come,’ he insisted. ‘We will rally again.’

‘No, Your Majesty,’ Buckingham spoke. ‘It’s too late. Leslie has failed us, Hamilton is fallen. We must away while we still have breath in our bodies.’

The noise of the fighting, drawing closer up the street, brought the King to his feet. With the Parliament’s soldiers at the front door of the house, the King and his party left by the back. Taking the nearest horses they fled, at a hard gallop, through St Martin’s Gate, the gate that led the way to the north.  (BY THE SWORD)

Here we parted company,  my imaginary friends returning to the past, and I trudged back through the streets of Worcester to meet my real friends at the Worcester Porcelain museum (in what had been a thriving factory on my last visit).