the discharge, they poured down upon them through a postern. The gun was again charged and fired; the gates were closed, and all who remained inside were cut down or killed in jumping from the battlements. Furious at his failure, d'Essy again led up his troops to the assault; a kinsman of the Rhinegrave had been left in the castle-court, and a party of Germans fought their way in and carried him off; but the whole garrison were by this time under arms. Three times the French came up to be driven back with desperate loss; and at last, with bitter reluctance, the leader gave the signal to fall back. His enterprise had led to nothing but discomfiture. With the morning he learnt, and was compelled to bear, the murders at Edinburgh, and to see the Scots as much pleased at his defeat as the English themselves. For some days it was expected that the French would be attacked and destroyed in their camp,[1] and they 'were in such desperation that they would rather adventure to be killed by Englishmen than by Scots.'[2]
At such a moment either skilful diplomacy or prompt action might possibly have restored the influence of England; although, the Queen being in France, it was not easy to say for what object the Protector was now contending. The occasion, however, was allowed to
- ↑ The Scots rejoiceth as much at the overthrow as we do, and it is spoken in Edinburgh that the Hamiltons will, for their bloodshedding, seek no other amends at the hands of the French but to be revenged with the sword.—Fisher to the Protector: Ellis; Original Letters, 3rd series, vol. iii. p. 292.
- ↑ Ibid.
