“Alford Fight” poem by Henry Winn

Respected friend you ask from me
A page of local history,
Torn from the annals of that year 
Of sad events in Lincolnshire,
When armed men mov'd up and down
Our country lanes, from town to town;
And party rage and hate were rife,
Menacing property and life.
When no man's chattles, house or lands
Were safe from those marauding bands
For loyal sword, and rebel pike,
Were on the warpath much alike.
Thank God! since sixteen forty three
From Civil War we have been free.
 
In those dark days of ruthless strife
When neighbours sought each others life,
If we may trust a gossip's tale
There liv'd a Roundhead in Well Vale;
Sir Lyon Weldon was his name,
Enjoying more than local fame; 
For, to his party he was known
A leading man in Alford Town;
Where, sitting to enforce the laws,
His heart espous'd the people's cause.

He had a neighbour we are told,
Whose seat between the Marsh and Wold
Was known to bear its owner's name,
And Hanby Hall they call'd the same.
Sir William was a loyal knight,
But late return'd from Riby fight;
Where Cavendish, the wise and good,
A troop of rebels had withstood
And Hanby thought they could not fail 
To capture Weldon in the Vale;
 
And curb the Marshmen, who, he said,
Though full of brag, were half afraid.
He press'd his chief to hurry down
His vet'ran troop to Alford town;
The road to Wainfleet then was plain,
And Boston they might surely gain.
The brave commander thought he might
On such conditions risk a fight;

So with his forces hurried down
To Hanby Park, near Alford Town.
His "right" and "left" extending far
As "Holy Farm" from "Bilsby Carr".
The volunteers the pastures fill
Around the base of Hanby Hill,
And Cavendish, to be in call,
Fix't his headquarters at the Hall.

The rebel party were not slow
To meet in fight their daring foe;
And muster'd up their troopers bold
From the adjacent Marsh and Wold.
The troop from Burgh, led by Payne,
Pitch'd to the "left" in Bilsby lane;
Moody from Scremby led his men
To form the "right" by Ancroft Fen,
And Massingberd of Ormsby tried 
To keep the "centre" well suppli'd.
Thus stood the camp.

For four long days
The country round was in a blaze;
For troops were passing to and fro,
Plundering alike both friend and foe;
Each army willing to delay
From different cause the bloody fray;
Cavan with cares of state oppress'd,
The rebel soldiers needing rest.

At length came Fairfax with his band,
And Manchester assum'd command;
Cavan was summoned to his post,
And thus dispos'd the royal host —
The "right", or Marmaduke's brigade,
Sir Philip Monkton's flag display'd;
Penruddocks regiment was thrown
Forward, to succour Alford town;
Langdale's brigade mov'd to the front
To start the fight or bear the brunt
And so the bloody work began —
The gallant Fairfax led the van.
 
While Langdale's men sustain'd the fight,
Moody, advancing from the right
Cut through the line — horses and men
In panic rush'd through Ancroft Fen,
Where in the swamps the wounded fell;
The rest before him fled pall-mell
To Willoughby when came in sight
Fresh foes advancing to the fight.

Between two storms of deadly hail
But few escap'd to tell the tale;
These fugitives, too proud to yield,
The peasants slew in Orby field.
Fairfax and Cavan ever found
Clever tacticians, kept their ground,
Tho' many a brave and gallant knight
Was wounded in the equal fight.

Gardens and fields were trampl'd down,
And damage done to Alford town.
Penruddock, worsted in the field,
Fled to the church, nor would he yield
Till many corpses stain'd the floor,
And cannon balls burst in the door.
The captain, wounded in the strife,
Ow'd to a Puritan his life;
And Wilfrid's fane for many a day
Bore marks of that exciting fray.

Troops hurried up at wars alarms,
From village workshops, halls, and farms,
Are ever anxious to disband,
Tho' incomplete the work in hand;
And thus both armies melt away
After the skirmish of the day
But many a cottage home that night
Was rob'd of all that made it bright.

The mover in this local strife
On his own manor lost his life,
And e'er the hostile troops retire
Hanby Old Hall was set on fire.
Weldon escaped the trap 'tis said
His wily neighbour for him laid.
 And thus abruptly ends a tale
Of Hanby, Alford and Well Vale.