Although Newcastle had been anxious to avoid a junction with Rupert as long as possible, lest he should lose some of the credit of defeating the enemy in the North, he had no personal dislike of that General. The two men were on good terms, and they were correspondents. Among the Rupert letters are four from Newcastle, congratulating him on different victories. In one of them he says of those victories that, “as they are too big for anybody else, so they appear too small for his Royal Highness,” and in another that, although Rupert will not allow them to be talked about in his presence, they will be talked about “to posterity, to His Royal Highness’s everlasting fame”.

Early on 1 July, Newcastle heard that Rupert with his army would arrive that very day, and he immediately wrote, and sent to Rupert, the following letter of welcome:—[99]

“May it please your Highness, you are welcome, sir, so many several ways, as it is beyond my arithmetic to number, but this I know, you are the Redeemer of the North, and the Saviour of the Crown. Your name, sir, hath terrified three great Generals, and they fly before it. It seems their design is not to meet your Highness, for I believe they have got a river between you and them; but they are so nearly gone as there is (no) certainty at all of them or their intentions, neither can I resolve anything, since I am made of nothing but thankfulness and obedience to your Highness’s commands.”

Rupert arrived, as Warwick tells us, “with a very good army, Goring being joined to him with the Northern horse”. It was not without some skilful manoeuvring that he was able to effect an entrance into York. Here is his enemy’s account of it:—[100]

According to this account, therefore, it was Rupert who put the river between himself and the enemy, and not the enemy who put the river between themselves and Rupert, as Newcastle had written.

Rupert having effected his juncture with Newcastle, the Parliamentary generals had to consider what should be their next step. It used to be held that a besieging army should be larger than that of the place invested; but the Royalist and the Parliamentary armies were pretty equal in numbers. The most probable decision of the Parliamentary Generals, therefore, would be to retire.

On the other hand, it was a question whether it would be the policy of the Royalist army to force an engagement. With a fortified town at their backs, it might have been under other circumstances; but Newcastle’s men had been much underfed of late, and Rupert’s were wearied by long marches, whereas the Parliamentary forces, although very short of provisions, were better fed than Newcastle’s, nor were they travel-worn like Rupert’s.

When Rupert went into York, on Monday, 1 July, he took about 2000 horse with him; but he left his foot, his ordnance, and the remainder of his cavalry in camp about five miles to the north of the town.

Newcastle, a dignified man of middle-age, accustomed to respect and deference, had now to receive as his superior officer that impetuous sprig of royalty, Prince Rupert, a youth of 22; and, glad as he was that Rupert had come to his relief, he can scarcely have got rid of all his previous feelings of jealousy. He told Rupert that the enemy had already raised the siege, that the Parliamentary Generals were quarrelling, that there was intense jealousy between the Scotch and the English troops, and that, in all probability, the army from Scotland would separate itself from its English allies, when, if left to themselves, the enemy would disperse in various directions, and would make no further attempts upon York.

Rupert, on the contrary, wanted to attack, stating that he had a letter in his pocket from the King commanding him to give battle to the Parliamentary army and crush it, once for all.[101] Newcastle urged that it would at least be wiser to await the arrival of Colonel Clavering, whom he was momentarily expecting with more than 3000 men, as well as that of 2000 men from the Northern garrisons. With this addition of 5000 men, the Royalist army would have considerably outnumbered that of the Parliament. Besides the reinforcements definitely expected, Newcastle had great hopes of the arrival of Montrose with some troops from Scotland. Rupert replied to Newcastle’s arguments by saying: “Nothing venture, nothing win,” and then he returned to his camp and spent the night there.

Early on the Tuesday morning Rupert was again in York and with Newcastle. Meanwhile there had been as much diversity of opinion between the Parliamentary Generals on the question of fighting or not fighting, as between the Royalist. The English Generals were all for action, the Scotch for a withdrawal to seek some more favourable battle-field, and finally the latter over-persuaded the former.

In the Royalist council of war, Rupert was able to reply to Newcastle’s continued desire for delay until the arrival of the shortly expected reinforcements, by stating that his scouts reported the enemy to be already on the move and that, unless they were attacked that day, they would probably altogether escape a battle.

Newcastle persisted in his objections to an immediate engagement, while Rupert’s persistence in favour of it never wavered. Heated, if courteous, words are said to have passed between the two Generals—the story that they even came to blows may be safely dismissed as fiction—but finally Newcastle yielded although under strong protest, to the royal authority, saying: “I am ready and willing, on my part, to obey Your Highness, no otherwise than if His Majesty were here in person. Happen what may, I will not shun to fight: for I have no other ambition than to live and die a loyal subject of His Majesty.”

Rupert replied: “My Lord, I hope we shall have a glorious day”.[102] Orders were then given to marshal all the forces into order of battle.

The rear-guard of the Parliamentary army was just preparing to start—the advance-guard was already three miles on its road towards Tadcaster, when a body of Royalist horse appeared, pulled up, and then galloped away. Almost immediately afterwards, between ten and eleven o’clock, 5000 of Rupert’s horse entered upon the moor, near Marston village, where the rebel army had been encamped during the night and a small part of it was still remaining. On hearing of this the Parliamentary Generals thought that Rupert was manoeuvring to attack them on their march. If he fell upon their rear it might be fatal, therefore Fairfax sent gallopers on the fastest horses he could find to urge the immediate return of all the Parliamentary troops then on the march.

Marston Moor lies seven miles to the west of York, about half-way between that city and Knaresborough. Although enclosed in 1767, at the time with which we are dealing much of it consisted of a large tract of open moorland, covered with whinbushes and gorse; but there were fields of rye on the southern side. The soil was marshy in some places and sandy in others. A road called Marston Lane crossed it, for about two miles from east to west, and 300 or 400 yards to the north of this lane ran “a great ditch,” almost parallel with it. This ditch separated the moor from some cultivated land.

On the south side, for the most part in some fields of rye, between the road and the ditch, the Parliamentary Generals placed the main body of their troops as they arrived. To the north of the ditch, the part of the moor on which the Royalist troops were gradually assembling, the ground was very flat; but from the road, running from east to west, the ground rises towards the south; and, upon this rising ground, the General of the Scotch ordnance placed twenty-five guns. Behind these guns, and still higher on the incline, the Generals of the Parliamentary army made their head-quarters, near which they posted their wagons and stores.

The arrival and the posting of the troops seems to have been slow on both sides. To distinguish between the two armies, the Cavaliers wore no scarves, and the Puritans wore white paper or white handkerchiefs in their hats; their watchword was “God with us,” while that of the Cavaliers was “God and the King”. “How goodly a sight,” wrote Ash, Lord Manchester’s chaplain, “was this to behold, when two mighty armies, each of which consisted of above 20,000 horse and foot, did, with flying colours prepared for the battle, look each other in the face.”

But afternoon had come on and many of Newcastle’s troops had not yet arrived. More extraordinary still, Newcastle himself had not put in an appearance. Rupert galloped back to York to find out the reason of the delay. There he found that a considerable number of Newcastle’s cavalry were in a state of mutiny, clamouring for their long over-due pay, and openly declaring that they would not leave the city to face the enemy until they got it. Both Rupert and Newcastle “played the orator” to them; but it was only after oft-repeated promises of prompt payment that they yielded and marched out of York so late as nearly five o’clock in the afternoon, with Rupert riding in the rear, and Newcastle, in his state-coach drawn by six horses, following them at a short distance.

Having once started, the hitherto reluctant cavalry rode rapidly to the front. Rupert had arranged everything for his order of battle before going into York. The accounts of that order are rather conflicting; but, roughly speaking, it was something of this sort. The centre was composed mainly of infantry under Newcastle and King, or Lord Ethyn as he was now entitled. The right wing was formed of Rupert’s own cavalry, including his regiment of “old soldiers all, gentlemen who had seen much service in France and Spain,” Lord Byron’s Irish horse, Lord Grandison’s horse, and some other cavalry, in all 7200 horse, drawn up in twelve divisions. The left wing contained about 4000 of Newcastle’s cavalry under Goring and Sir Charles Lucas, with a line of musketeers in front of them. The whole of the ditch was also lined with musketeers. A few guns were also posted in the ditch, and the rest of the artillery was placed on the flanks.

Confronting the Royalist centre was the Parliamentary infantry under Manchester and Leven. Opposite the Royalist right, the enemy’s left contained Cromwell’s “Ironsides,” other cavalry of Manchester’s and some Scottish horse; in all about 4200 horse, supported by 3000 foot soldiers. In front of the Royalist left the enemy’s right was made up of 4800 horse, consisting of Lord Fairfax’s famous cavalry and some Scottish cavalry regiments, including the Ayrshire Lancers—rather an uncommon armament at that period. In both armies reserves of cavalry and infantry were drawn up in the rear. The numbers in the opposing armies is doubtful; but probably they were pretty equal, and something over 20,000 on either side.

Rupert showed Ethyn a sketch of his position and asked him how he liked it. Ethyn replied that it was very fine on paper, but that it would not be so on the field. Rupert had placed his front rank close to the ditch, which was impassable in many places, and to this Ethyn strongly objected. Rupert replied, “They may be drawn to a farther distance”. Ethyn, probably thinking that any retreat along the whole line would draw on an immediate attack from the enemy, replied, “No, sir. It is too late.”

Rupert was very angry with Ethyn for saying this. They had not been on the best of terms beforehand, for Rupert thought that Ethyn, when General King, had not sufficiently supported him in a certain battle on the Continent. Rupert revenged himself upon Ethyn for finding fault with his order of battle on Marston Moor by twitting him when the engagement was over, for having been of very little use during the action.

In the course of the afternoon, a few shots were fired from the cannon of both armies; but without important results, although a captain was killed on each side; on one a nephew of Cromwell, on the other a son of Sir Gilbert Haughton. Some of the Puritan soldiers sang psalms, deriving considerable consolation from the psalmist’s denunciations of his enemies, which they mentally applied to what they called “the King’s cursed and cursing cormorants”. Rupert, not tolerating defeat even in devotion, ordered his chaplain to preach to his men; on hearing of which the Puritans declared Rupert to be a “jingling Machiavelian,” guilty of a blasphemous mockery.

Several showers had fallen during the day, and towards evening black clouds gathered overhead, a heavy thunderstorm set in, and rain fell in torrents. On arriving at Marston Moor, Newcastle asked Rupert whether he meant to fight that evening—it was then between five and six o’clock. Rupert said that he had no intention of doing so and that he would make his grand attack early in the morning: at the same time he recommended Newcastle to seize the opportunity of taking a rest.

A rest was only too welcome! Newcastle had had a long, anxious, perplexing day, and he was glad to return to his coach, which had been left at some little distance behind the troops. The first thing he did on getting into it was to light his pipe[103] and enjoy a soothing smoke, after which, utterly worn out by worry, he fell asleep upon the cushions of his chariot.