Lord Clinton headed the cavalry, and took his station with a battery of cannon on the rising ground opposite to the palace of St. James's, at the top of the present St. James's Street, and his cavalry extended from that spot to the present Jermyn Street. All that quarter of dense building, including Piccadilly, Pall Mall, and St. James's Square, was then open and called St. James's Fields. About nine o'clock appeared the advanced guard of Wyatt's army. The morning was dismal, gloomy, and rainy, and his troops, who had been wading through muddy roads all night, were in no condition to face a fresh army. Many had deserted at Kingston, many more had dropped off since, and seeing the strength of the force placed to obstruct him, he divided his own into three parts. One of these, led by Captain Cobham, took the way through St. James's Park at the back of the palace, which was barricaded at all points, and guards stationed at all the windows, even those of the queen's bed-chamber and withdrawing-rooms. Cobham's division fired on the palace as it passed, whilst another division under Captain Knevet, holding more to the right, assaulted the palaces of Westminster and Whitehall.
But Wyatt, at the head of the main division, charged Clinton's cavalry; the cannon were brought up, and a general engagement took place betwixt the rebel army and the troops both under Clinton and the infantry under Pembroke. Wyatt's charge seemed to make the cavalry give way, but it was only a stratagem on the part of Clinton, who opened his ranks to let Wyatt and about 400 of his followers pass, when he closed and cut off the main body from their commander. In all Wyatt's proceedings he displayed great bravery, but little military experience or caution.
His main forces, now deprived of their leader, wavered and gave way, but instead of breaking took another course to reach the City. Wyatt, as if unconscious that he had left the great body of his army behind him, and had now the enemy betwixt it and himself, rushed along past Charing Cross and through the Strand to Ludgate, in the fond hope still that the citizens would admit him and join him. In the passages of the Strand were posted bodies of soldiers under the Earl of Worcester and the contemptible Courtenay, who, on the sight of Wyatt, fled. It was supposed to be cowardice on his part, but was most probably treason, for he had engaged to unite with Wyatt, but had not the honesty to do one thing or another. He was at once traitor to the queen and to Wyatt—a miserable coward and poltroon.
On reaching Ludgate, Wyatt found the gates closed, and instead of the citizens who had promised to receive him, Lord William Howard appeared over the gate, crying, sternly, "Avaunt, traitor! avaunt; you enter not here!" Finding no access there, the unhappy man turned to rejoin and assist his troops, but he was met by those of Pembroke, who had poured after him like a flood. In the desperation of despair he fought his way back as far as the Temple, where he found only about fifty of his followers surviving. Then Norroy King-at-Arms rode up to him and called upon him to yield, and not madly to sacrifice the lives of his brave associates. Wyatt continued fighting like a maniac, but was forced back by the overwhelming body of opponents down Fleet Street, till, sitting completely exhausted on a fish-stall opposite to the Belle Sauvage, he threw away his sword, which was broken, and surrendered himself to Sir Maurice Berkeley, who immediately mounted him behind him and carried him off to Court.
Meantime the battle raged around the palaces of Westminster and Whitehall. Knevet's forces attacked the rear of these two palaces, whilst the troops of Cobham had pushed their way past St. James's Palace to Charing Cross, and were stoutly fighting with the soldiers of Pembroke and Clinton. Had Wyatt been able to cut his way back to Cobham at Charing Cross, the issue might have been doubtful; but he was missing, and the brave Kentish men were obliged to contend under every disadvantage. They were covered with mud and soaked with rain from their wretched night-march, and the queen's troops cried, "Down with the draggletails!" Still the fight continued: the hottest work was about the rear of Westminster Palace, which was chiefly protected by the gate-house, an old castellated portal leading to the abbey. The queen is said to have stood on the gallery of the gate-house in the fiercest crisis of the battle, and saw her guards under Sir John Gage give way before the insurgents led on by Knevet. Sir John himself, an old man, was knocked down in the mud, but was recovered, and conveyed into the palace court. The guards rushed into the court after him and ran to hide themselves in the offices. The porter managed to clap to the gates, and exclude the enemy, and with them a considerable number of the guards. Their case being reported to the queen, she ordered the gates to be flung open, but had it announced to them that she expected them to stand to their arms and defend the palace. The lawyers, who had been pleading in Westminster Hall in full armour, came to their aid and greatly encouraged them.
It would seem that by this time the queen had retreated to Whitehall, for we are told that Courtenay, having fled from Wyatt, rushed into her presence there, crying that "her battle was broke, that all was lost and surrendered to Wyatt." Mary replied with infinite scorn, "that such might be the opinion of those who dared not to go near enough to see the truth of the trial, but that for herself, she would abide the upshot of her rightful quarrel, or die with the brave men then fighting for her." The palace at that moment was surrounded by the forces of Cobham, and the contest was raging at Charing Cross, from which they could hear the firing and shouting. The gentlemen-at-arms had hard work to beat back the assailants with their battle-axes, from both the front and the rear of the palace. They were continually discouraged by fugitives from the battle running thither and crying, "Away, away, all is lost! a barge, a barge!" But the queen would not move a step, nor did she change colour, but asking where Lord Pembroke was, and being told in the battle, "Well, then," she replied, "all that dare not fight may fall to prayers, and I warrant we shall hear better news anon. God will not deceive me, in whom my chief trust is."
Pembroke's detachment had now fought its way to the vicinity of the palace, and the queen being made aware of it, went out to the front and stood betwixt two gentlemen-at-arms within arquebuse shot of the enemy to
