If you ask anyone about the most decisive battle of the English Civil War, they are most likely to answer Naseby, which took place in Northamptonshire on 14th June 1645. Considering this is where King Charles I’s veteran infantry were obliterated and his cabinet of private letters captured, then you can understand why. The royalist cause is billed as being irretrievably finished after Naseby and victory for Parliament merely a matter of time. But … thousands of the King’s elite cavalry survived. His Lieutenant-General in Scotland, the Marquis of Montrose, had just secured that entire kingdom. New infantry recruits were due from Wales and more reinforcements expected from Ireland. Naseby was a decisive defeat for the King, but it was an almost forgotten battle at Sherburn-in-Elm e t four months later that dealt the real killer blow. Lord George Digby – an English Rasputin – had been King Charles’s Secretary of State since 1643. He was a silver-tongued, self-obsessed man with a devious streak and a hypnotic charm. Like an impervious cockroach, he would successfully crawl out from under the destruction he had wrought in the royalist ranks. The hard shell of this deluded politician had the King believe that every setback was someone else’s fault; and that there was always a silver lining just around the corner. It was Lord George Digby who was placed in command of the King’s elite cavalry. His last hope. On 13th October 1645, at Welbeck, Digby’s fateful appointment as Lieutenant-General of the forces north of the River Trent was confirmed. It seems to have been the result of his private connivance, because none of the King’s officers – including the council of war – had any inkling that it was going to happen until the monarch revealed the decision in a speech to his cavalrymen. And well may Digby have wanted it this way, for the King had no less than 24 officers with him ranked colonel or above who could have filled the role, and the surprise prevented any coherent protest. Of course, Digby claimed never to have known that the appointment was coming and wrote, ‘At half an hours warning having (I protest to God) not dreamt of the matter before, I marched off from the rendezvous’. 1 The experienced Sir Marmaduke Langdale was to support him. Typical of the two-faced Digby was the fact that he had described Langdale as ‘a creature of Prince Rupert’s’ 2 but now that he needed this ‘creature’ he embraced Langdale. The Parliamentarian, John Rushworth, noted Digby’s next move. ‘It was agreed, that the northern horse, commanded by Sir Marmaduke Langdale, my Lord Digby … should march into the north, to join [the King’s Scottish general, the Marquis of] Montrose’. 3 Once united, Digby and Montrose would restore royalist fortunes in England. The one snag, unbeknown to Digby, was that Montrose had been defeated several weeks earlier. Nevertheless, Digby’s small force struck at Doncaster, beating up some of the enemy there and then scattered some more at Cusworth. Upon nearing Sherburn-in-Elmet, Digby ran into an infantry regiment of 1000 parliamentarians commanded by a Colonel Wren. The royalists went on to defeat Wren’s force, but no sooner had Digby taken them prisoner and had them hand over their arms and weapons, than he was informed of the approach of a second enemy detachment. The parliamentarian Colonel Copley led 1200 cavalrymen to the rescue of their colleagues. The Battle of Sherburn-in-Elmet that followed is a confused affair. It appears from most accounts that Digby’s small army had become split. Copley’s men encountered only half of the royalists, commanded by Sir Marmaduke Langdale, who buoyed his men up with a speech: ‘Gentlemen you are gallant men, but there are some that seek to scandalize your gallantry for the loss of Naseby field. I hope you will redeem your reputation, and still maintain that gallant report which you ever had. I am sure you have done such business as never has been done in any war with such a number’. 4 It was a fierce contest, but Langdale’s men began to get the upper hand. So far, so good for the royalists. But yet another detachment of parliamentarians was closing up under Colonel John Lilburne, a north-east man and well-known Leveller. Langdale could not contend with both Copley and Lilburne together. Now was Digby’s moment for glory; the chance for him to reinforce his subordinate and secure a victory; one which would establish him as a crusader for the King’s flagging cause and silence his many doubters. When some of Copley’s hard-pressed men broke and fled through Sherburn’s streets, Digby took them to be Langdale’s troopers. Thinking that his royalist sidekick had been routed, Digby marshalled his troops and simply left! Abandoned by their commander, Langdale’s 1000 cavalrymen could not withstand Lilburne’s added might and eventually broke with the loss of up to 700 men, the bulk of which were taken prisoner. The victorious parliamentarians went on to free Wren’s men and took back the stash of arms and weapons that Digby had piled up in Sherburn’s streets. Though Digby and Langdale escaped their clutches, the parliamentarians did, however, secure a greater prize; Digby’s coach, containing all of his private correspondence. It was bundled up and sent down to London for Parliament’s urgent attention. The breadth of secrets they revealed was worth a hundred victories. Parliament even established a committee to scrutinise the letters, and after wringing out every last detail, they handed them over the to their Scottish allies, using the findings as a means of keeping them on side. Ironically, the site where the coach was taken at Milford, about one mile from the parish, is reputed to be where the dead were buried. 5 The sixty-nine letters revealed everything from the King’s hopeless position, cut off at Newark, identified a spy in the heart of Parliament (who was summarily arrested), documented the movement of the Prince of Wales, who was to be sent into the West Country, as well as the names of many senior royalists who were pushing the King to make peace. The writing was well and truly on the wall. One deeply personal letter betrayed King Charles’s innermost thoughts when he wrote that he had no doubt but of his ruin. Worse still was the revelation of the destined route of some much-needed munitions, sent from the Queen in France, along with news that the King of Denmark was prepared to send support. Dame CV Wedgewood, in her book ‘The King’s War’ reveals what happened to Digby and Langdale’s surviving troops. ‘On a false rumour that Montrose [the King’s Scottish general] had rallied and was in Glasgow, they pressed on to Scotland as far as Dumfries, where they learnt the truth and turned back again, planning to winter in the inaccessible region around Cartmel, between the mountains and the sea and await (as always) the coming of the Irish. Their troops, lacking all confidence in them now deserted by the hundred’. 6 The last of Digby and Langdale’s forces were defeated at Carlisle Sands and the two men took ship to the Isle of Man. REFERENCES 1. Thomas Carte, A History of the Life of the Duke of Ormonde, VI, p. 303. (1736) 2. State Papers, Collected by Sir Edward Hyde. Vol II, p. 199. (1773) 3. John Rushworth Memoirs, Part IV. Vol. 1, p. 123. 4. Christopher Hibbert, Cavaliers and Roundheads, p. 258. (1993) 5. Edmund Bogg, The Old Kingdom of Elmet: York and the Ainsty District. (1902) 6. C.V Wedgewood, The King’s War, p. 504. (1958) If you've enjoyed reading about the War of the Three Kingdoms, you can read more about it in my historical novel, Allegiance of Blood. I am also working on a series of novellas for Sharpe Books, which will be set in the civil war. More about those in early 2021.