From the hilltop, Sir William Waller looked out over the fields below, upon the army that marched towards him. He knew that somewhere within that mass of soldiers was his oldest and closest friend.
In fact, that friend was not just amongst the soldiers – he led them. Just as Waller led his.
On a hot summer day in 1643, a terrible series of events had compelled Sir William Waller and Sir Ralph Hopton to face each other in battle.
20 years before, they had fought alongside each other and formed a staunch brotherhood – a bond that would remain until the cruel hands of fate forced them apart.
They were unfortunate enough to be born as Englishmen during the time of the English Civil War – a conflict which saw friends separated, families split, and kinships destroyed.
The war was fought on the question of monarchy, and whether the King himself should stand above the law.
The two friends thought differently.
Though both were moderate men, sensible in their ideals and considerate in their judgements – the escalation of tension throughout the nation demanded that they declare for a side. Despite their best efforts to ease bad blood between the factions, both Waller and Hopton had to choose.
Waller declared for Parliament. And Hopton for the King.
Each side was grateful to receive them. They were both skilled strategists, experienced in war and diplomacy. They soon found themselves at the heads of their own armies.
Unfortunate though it was, the inevitable course of war eventually pushed their forces to a clash. That clash came at Lansdowne Hill on the 5th July, 1643.
Their regiments camped for weeks, neither side enthused by the prospect of battle. The close relationship between the generals was well known and the sorrow of circumstance was shared by their men.
Action could not be delayed forever though, and Hopton soon found himself ordering an advance on Waller’s position.
Yet still, even as they met at the heads of opposing armies, their love and respect for each other shone through.
This is evident in a letter that Waller sent to Hopton before their forces met in the field.
In perhaps the most heartfelt and moving message sent during wartime, Waller wrote:
“To my noble friend Sir Ralph Hopton
Sir,
The experience I have of your worth and the happiness I have enjoyed in your friendship are wounding considerations when I look at this present distance between us.
Certainly, my affection to you is so unchangeable that hostility itself cannot violate my friendship, but I must be true wherein the cause I serve. That great God, which is the searcher of my heart, knows with what a sad sense I go about this service, and with what a perfect hatred I detest this war without an enemy; but I look upon it as an Opus Domini [work of God] and that is enough to silence all passion in me.
The God of peace in his good time will send us peace. In the meantime, we are upon the stage and must act those parts that are assigned to us in this tragedy. Let us do so in a way of honour and without personal animosities.
Whatever the outcome I will never willingly relinquish the title of your most affectionate friend.
William Waller”
This letter was the final time these friends heard from each other.
The Battle of Lansdowne was hard-fought, costing 300 Royalist lives as they stormed the hill. Hopton himself was shot in the arm, but the King’s men managed to win the day, forcing Waller’s army to retreat.
Though defeated in the field, Waller’s force suffered only 20 fatalities and managed to fall back in good order. The Royalists on the other hand were bloody and beaten, taking 1000 casualties in total.
The next day brought a gloomy prospect for Hopton’s men.
They may have secured the hill, but they were yet to take Bath – the real prize. And with so many dead and injured, the task seemed impossible.
To further their issues, the main Royalist powder store was destroyed in an accident following the battle, killing several prisoners of war, but worse still, severely injuring Hopton.
Their force depleted, ammunition low, and commander temporarily blinded – the Royalists withdrew.
A grim outcome for both sides – either by defeat or exhaustion – the war in the West was certain to drag on.
In doing so, the title of ‘enemies’ between the old friends was secured – they would never meet in friendship again.
The war itself saw the King executed and Parliament victorious, but nor Hopton or Waller revelled in the result.
Hopton found himself in exile supporting Prince Charles, but after a bitter falling out he abandoned the new Royalist cause and lived out his days in France. Only after death would he return to England.
Waller, whose side won victory, became intensely disillusioned with Parliament, made worse by Cromwell’s ascension to power. He was arrested several times for dissent against the new English authority, but ultimately led the rest of his life without drawing much attention. He lived just long enough to see the return of the English monarchy – a cause that had cost him his dearest friendship 20 years before – and died soon afterwards.
These men, considered the most noble in England at their prime, spent their golden years downcast and disappointed. Despite the adamant retainment of their values, both their causes strayed from the path they had believed in.
The story of Hopton and Waller is sad not only because of its inevitability, but because in the end, neither man achieved what he had once hoped for. Their honourable desires, for which they sacrificed a deep and trusting friendship, proved fruitless.
There are few today who know about the saddest tale of 1643, but I think it’s important we remember it.
It’s interesting of course, but more than that, it reminds us how fortunate we are to live in a time where debate counts for more than bloodshed, and where we’re not forced to fight friends on a matter of opinion.
We have a choice.
Sometimes we need to recall that what we desire can be so easily tarnished by circumstance. And before we’re too quick to cause confrontation, perhaps we should take a step back and think of the sacrifice others have made for more worthy causes than ours – how often was the outcome guaranteed, and at what cost was it claimed?
Sir Ralph Hopton and Sir William Waller can teach us much individually, but I think they are best studied as a pair.
We must look back to their time and their tale, and let is serve as a reminder.
Sacrifice, though worthy and difficult, can never secure what we hope for alone. We should be careful to consider what we intend to give up, as well as how certain – and indeed steady – our cause really is.
I’ll talk to you later.
Alex.