SEPTEMBER 1644 My head was down as I rode into the teeth of a gale beside Edward and I struggled to understand the meaning of the sudden shouts of anxiety from in front of us. I looked up and saw horses rearing and turning. Then I heard a volley of shots ring out, though I could not see who fired them for the smoke that suddenly hung over the road. At last, and nearly too late, I obeyed a harshly issued instruction to dismount and take shelter behind the wagons if I valued my life. I felt rather than heard the musket fire that might have been the end of me, as it ripped the air apart and shredded the canvas behind my head...
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