hastened to cross the bridge, and made his retreat unmolested to
Oxford.

"Hampden, with his head drooping, and his hands leaning on his horse's
neck, moved feebly out of the battle. The mansion which had been
inhabited by his father-in-law, and from which in his youth he had
carried home his bride, Elizabeth, was in sight. There still remains
an affecting tradition, that he looked for a moment towards that
beloved house, and made an effort to go thither to die. But the enemy
lay in that direction. He turned his horse towards Thame, where he
arrived almost fainting with agony. The surgeons dressed his
wounds. But there was no hope. The pain which he suffered was
most excruciating. But he endured it with admirable firmness and
resignation. His first care was for his country. He wrote from his bed
several letters to London concerning public affairs, and sent a last
pressing message to the head-quarters, recommending that the dispersed
forces should be concentrated. When his last public duties were
performed, he calmly prepared himself to die. He was attended by a
clergyman of the Church of England, with whom he had lived in habits
of intimacy, and by the chaplain of the Buckinghamshire Green-coats,
Dr. Spurton, whom Baxter describes as a famous and excellent divine.

"A short time before his death, the sacrament was administered to him.
He declared that, though he disliked the government of the Church of
England, he yet agreed with that Church as to all essential matters of
doctrine. His intellect remained unclouded. When all was nearly over,
he lay murmuring faint prayers for himself, and for the cause in which
he died. 'Lord Jesus,' he exclaimed, in the moment of the last agony,
'receive my soul--O Lord, save my country--O Lord, be merciful to--,'
In that broken ejaculation passed away his noble and fearless spirit.