Doctor Who_ Nightshade - Mark Gatiss [33]
aloud to heaven.
1644, however, had not been a good year for Parliament.
Upon surrendering themselves to Parliament’s mercy, the castle King Charles stood firm even with the war two years old.
was consumed by a strange fire and all were glad to return to their Then had come a morale-crushing blow, only the previous camp. This place has long been notorious for weird happenings...
day, as Prince Rupert entered the city of York unopposed The Doctor looked up from his book and chewed his lip after crossing the north bank of the Swale. Sniping attacks thoughtfully.
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by Rupert’s men had followed and Jackson saw Cromwell’s like frightened sheep. The night was suddenly alive with face darkening with anger.
the yellow sashes of the Roundheads and the Royalists’
‘We must stop and fight!’ he had bellowed at the Earl of vivid scarlet.
Manchester. ‘Else lose all to that puppy Rupert.’
Cromwell’s dragoons, three thousand strong, attacked Manchester had sat long and thought hard, fingering the Lord Byron and the Royalist right wing, decimating them.
delicate embroidery of his collar. Then he nodded his assent.
Jackson hacked away with his sword, a rush of grotesque They had drawn up on the long ridge of open plain that faces flurrying past him.
stretched down to Marston Moor, Cromwell’s force of A musket ball whistled past his ear and he felt himself twenty-seven thousand against Rupert’s eighteen thousand.
twist and fall awkwardly from his horse. The ground raced A line of hedges and ditches separated the two armies. Six up to meet him, iron hard, and he lay there a moment, miles due west stood York and four miles to the east the winded and sick as booted feet staggered past. Then there little settlement of Crook Marsham, dominated by its ruined were strong hands under him and he opened his eyes to see Norman castle.
Cromwell himself lifting him bodily on to his horse.
Jackson had seen its sun-shimmered battlements hovering
‘Thank God we’ve not lost you,’ he said with a smile, the on the horizon.
fire of battle shining in his eyes.
Before battle could begin, Parliament had observed its Jackson pulled on the reins and charged again. A Royalist traditional good grace, allowing Rupert to await the Earl of soldier, his face already streaked with mud, and dark blood, Newcastle and his men. The day had worn on, the mood of launched himself at Jackson’s flank. The captain heaved his impatience spreading from the florid-faced Cromwell to his massive sword and took off half the soldier’s face in one troops. At around four in the afternoon, Newcastle’s men movement. The body fell under Jackson’s horse and the finally arrived. To Jackson’s disbelief they had retired for captain rode on, shouting in exhilaration.
supper, as they believed the hour too late for fighting that There was another salvo of musket fire and Cromwell day.
reeled in his saddle, his warty face contorting with pain.
At around seven in the evening, with the pleasant smell of Blood pumped from a wound in his neck. Jackson reigned woodsmoke drifting across the plain, Cromwell had come in his horse and called above the din of battle, ‘We must get into view, massive and inspiring astride his horse. He you to the field hospital, sir!’
narrowed his eyes, watching the distant enemy figures Cromwell shook his head, wiping the soil-caked wound moving like indistinct ink-blots on a purple canvas. He as if to dismiss it. ‘The second charge, Phillip, the second caught Jackson’s eye, smiled slightly, and then bellowed the charge!’
command to charge.
Jackson nodded worriedly and followed his brave leader With a great whooping cry, Parliament’s horsemen back to the ridge. After organising the second charge, thundered across the moor, scattering the surprised enemy Cromwell had finally assented to treatment and retired.
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Jackson and his men swept back on to the moor, Rupert’s thousand the Prince hath not four thousand left. Colours, routed cavalry