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Battles and Seiges of the English Civil War.

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Pontefract.

1998 saw the 350th Anniv. of the Third Seige of Pontefract Castle and of it's subsequent destruction.

Sandal. 1643

Leeds. 1643

Adwalton Moor 1643

Tadcaster 1642

Colonel Charles Fairfax.

Knaresboro'.

Etc.

Bradford's Reprieve.

It was after the battle on Adwalton Moor, at which the Roundheads had met with a sad defeat, that the Earl of Newcastle, the Royalist Commander, thurned his face towards Bradford, and taking up his headquarters at Bolling Hall, began what is known as the Second Siege of Bradford.

The commanding position of this spot doubtless attracted the military eye of the Earl, and from this standpoint he at once set about investing the town. He took three to five days in doing this, although there were no batteries to raise, as the hills surrounding Bradford were near enough to render such unnecessary.

He placed his guns in two positions, and opened a heavy fire which was returned by Sir Thomas Fairfax, who was defending the town, with volleys of musketry. But by this time the odds were well against the Bradfordians, brave fighting men though they were. Reduced to the extremity of possessing only one barrel of powder, but no match, Sir Thomas saw that he must either cut his way through the Royalists, or surrender with the town. He adopted the former course, and by this step all hope of saving Bradford from falling into the hands of the enemy was abandoned.

"Oh! What a night and morning was that in which Bradford was taken," says Joseph Lister, "What weeping and wringing of hands - none expecting to live longer than till the enemy came into the town; the Earl of Newcastle having charged his men to kill all, man, woman and child, in the town, and to give them all Bradford quarter, for the brave Earl of Newport's sake, (who was said to have been barnarously slain here during the first siege.). However, God so ordered it, that before the town was taken, the Earl gave a different order, viz- "that quarter should be given to all the townsmen."

Stories tell how this change came about. While he was sleeping in one of the rooms of Bolling Hall on the eve of the day that was to witness the destruction of the town, a lady in white appeared, pulled the clothes off his bed and cried out with a lamentable voice, " Pity poor Bradford!".

Here is the verse celebrating this evening:-

The shades of night began to fall,
Enveloping with sable pall,
The precincts of Old Bolling Hall,
Where proud Newcastle lay.

His angry eye and brow of gloom,
Told plainly of poor Bradford's doom,
As he passed to his lonely room,
To wait the coming day.

A day that should to sword and fire,
Give that fine town; both son and sire,
He vow'd should midst the flame expire,
For arming against their King.

His plumed helm a table graced,
His trusty sword was near him placed.
The cuirass that his bosom braced.
Upon the floor was flung.

Then on the couch he threw him down,
His thoughts were on that doomed town,
And on his dearly-bought renown,
When Fairfax lost the day.

A day that saw 'midst seas of gore,
The Royal standard proudly soar,
Triumphant on Adwalton Moor---,
That long-contested field.

The night was still serene and clear,
He dreams or surely does he hear --,
When soft, a voice, low whispers near,
Said, " Pity poor Bradford."

Upstarting with a sudden bound,
He cast a startled glance around,
And with astonishment he found,
A female near him stand.

Mournful she seem'd, tho' young and fair;
She clasp'd her hands as if in prayer,
And sighing said, "In pity spare,
Our poor, devoted town."

Newcastle was as brave a knight,
As e'er spurred charger into fight;
But who can say that solemn night,
He was devoid of fear?

The ranks of war he oft had led --,
Had seen the field with slaughter spread,
Yet never felt he so much dread,
As at that lonely hour.

To call for aid he vainly tries,
His tongue its wonted use denies,
And when again he raised his eyes,
The visitant had fled.

And whither fled no one could say,
The guards had watch'd till dawn of day,
But no one ever crossed their way,
They all and each declared.

But changed was Newcastle's vow,
The gloom had vanished from his brow,
He spoke in mercy's accents now,
"Let Bradford town be spared."


copyright 2000 John Davey.

Marston Moor

Last updated 25/04/06

All contents © copyright John Davey 2001-2.  All rights reserved.

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