Now we began to reflect again on the misfortune of our master’s counsels.  Had we marched to London, instead of besieging Gloucester, we had finished the war with a stroke.  The Parliament’s army was in a most despicable condition, and had never been recruited, had we not given them a month’s time, which we lingered away at this fatal town of Gloucester.  But ’twas too late to reflect; we were a disheartened army, but we were not beaten yet, nor broken.  We had a large country to recruit in, and we lost no time but raised men apace.  In the meantime his Majesty, after a short stay at Bristol, makes back again towards Oxford with a part of the foot and all the horse.

At Cirencester we had a brush again with Essex; that town owed us a shrewd turn for having handled them coarsely enough before, when Prince Rupert seized the county magazine.  I happened to be in the town that night with Sir Nicholas Crisp, whose regiment of horse quartered there with Colonel Spencer and some foot; my own regiment was gone before to Oxford.  About ten at night, a party of Essex’s men beat up our quarters by surprise, just as we had served them before.  They fell in with us, just as people were going to bed, and having beaten the out-guards, were gotten into the middle of the town before our men could get on horseback.  Sir Nicholas Crisp, hearing the alarm, gets up, and with some of his clothes on, and some off, comes into my chamber.  “We are all undone,” says he, “the Roundheads are upon us.”  We had but little time to consult, but being in one of the principal inns in the town, we presently ordered the gates of the inn to be shut, and sent to all the inns where our men were quartered to do the like, with orders, if they had any back-doors, or ways to get out, to come to us.  By this means, however, we got so much time as to get on horseback, and so many of our men came to us by back ways, that we had near 300 horse in the yards and places behind the house.  And now we began to think of breaking out by a lane which led from the back side of the inn, but a new accident determined us another, though a worse way.

The enemy being entered, and our men cooped up in the yards of the inns, Colonel Spencer, the other colonel, whose regiment of horse lay also in the town, had got on horseback before us, and engaged with the enemy, but being overpowered, retreated fighting, and sends to Sir Nicholas Crisp for help.  Sir Nicholas, moved to see the distress of his friend, turning to me, says he, “What can we do for him?” I told him I thought ’twas time to help him, if possible; upon which, opening the inn gates, we sallied out in very good order, about 300 horse.  And several of the troops from other parts of the town joining us, we recovered Colonel Spencer, and charging home, beat back the enemy to their main body.  But finding their foot drawn up in the churchyard, and several detachments moving to charge us, we retreated in as good order as we could.  They did not think fit to pursue us, but they took all the carriages which were under the convoy of this party, and laden with provisions and ammunition, and above 500 of our horse, the foot shifted away as well as they could.  Thus we made off in a shattered condition towards Farringdon, and so to Oxford, and I was very glad my regiment was not there.