I, Anthony Sedley, did fight for our English liberties in Colonel Scroop's Regiment of Horse. The war against the king being, with God's help, prosperously concluded, the regiment lay in Old Sarum in May of 1649 waiting for arrears of pay (for we were owed three months) and disbandment. Among the soldiers there was much discontent, not at least when we were charged to make ready to go to Ireland to fight the rebels there.

This Was a pretty summons to be sure! Cornet Henry Denne did, with some others, draw up a paper listing reasons why we were not to go to Ireland and demanding that our financial grievances be settled. Moreover, this paper did demand the calling together of an Army Council, each regiment being represented by two officers and two soldiers, which Council we would obey. When all the men had agreed thereon, the paper was despatched to Colonel Scroop.

It was not long before we were told that either we march to Ireland or we take our discharge without arrears of pay. Whereupon we determined to stand firm and demand that those who wished to be disbanded should be paid. When our Colonel heard of this, he waxed exceedingly hot and said we were already guilty of Mutiny and with every minute making our case worse. One soldier, wearing our levellers' sea-green ribbon, spoke up boldly. 'Sir,' he said, 'will your goodself be leading us into Ireland?' whereat our colonel, taken somewhat aback, said that he had not made his mind up on the matter. Whereupon some did laugh.

Next we sent that aforementioned paper with a letter to Commissary General Ireton's Regiment, which also lay in Salisbury, and they took it so well that they marched to join with us. So we were a Thousand men, and well-mounted and determined to have our rights. The plan that ou leaders, which we had meanwhile elected, put before us was to ride to Abingdon, where we would be joined by two troops of Colonel Harrison's Horse come out of Buckinghamshire, and then to head North to join more comrades at Banbury, where the Levellers were in some force. By eventide on May 12th, we reached Wantage.

On the morrow, with our steel helmets glittering bravely in the sunshine, we descended into the valley of the Thames. During the day our blustery old Colonel, escorted by four Officers from General Cromwell, caught up with us, but neither Cornet Denne nor any of the others would talk with him, by which he was most put out. Meanwhile the four officers did read out a letter from General Cromwell, which gave the Levellers little comfort. One of the officers, a Major White, assured us many a time that the General would not come against us before reading our declaration. Some of us were minded to trust him, but some reckoned him but a serpent in the grass.

Outside Abingdon we came upon the troopers from Colonel Harrison's Regiment. To them our leaders read out the declaration and asked them to join with us. They liked it very much for there were many sea-green ribbons to be seen among them. An answer was promised on the morrow, but for the moment they were to ride for Thame, were they had quarters.

I cannot but concede my disappointment at this putting off of their decision. However, we continued towards Banbury, thinking to skirt Oxford, only to find the bridge at Newbridge manned with a hundred of General Fairfax's soldiers. Unhappily for us, we permitted this Major White to persuade us against an assault (they surely would have cut and run, had we but charged lustily!) for he feared we would be the first to shed blood in a new civil war.

Thus it was that we had to make our way further westwards and cross the Thames at Sansom's Ford where the water lapped over the tops of our boots and some had a hard struggle to raise their tired horses out of the stream. Now Banbury was too distant to reach before nightfall, so it was decided to spend the night at Burford, a place ever strong in Parliament's cause. We arrived at a late hour, many dispersing to Hamlets all around, there were not enough quarters for all of us in the town itself.

But suddenly, and we couldn't have been abed for more than an hour, there Was uproar in the street below, a great clattering of horses, a confusion of shouting, and pistols cracking sharply. I staggered to the casement to see hundreds of troopers with drawn swords riding up against the Inns and houses, rattling on shutters and firing of their pieces. The dozen of us in The Bull made all haste to dress and prime our pistols. Yet before we could form any strategy of defence, four had already fled through the dark courtyard into the fields. We would have fled to, if Cromwell's men had not crept round the back and cut off our retreat. From the windows we fired a few balls, but could n't see our attackers in the murk. They did fire thick for a while, then called for a parley. Seeing no possibility of escape. We gave up and let ourselves be taken prisoner.

There were in all 340 of us poor betrayed Levellers held in the parish church and many did offer up prayers in those small hours. I was pushed up against the font, for we were packed in like salted herring, and did while away the time cutting my name in the lead of the font.

At nine o'clock, Old Noll, for so we called him, strode into the church with a strong bodyguard of Dragoons, and did preach a sermon to us on our sinfulness, so that some soldiers did melt into a noble Christian sorrow for their offence. But others did look on in disgust, believing themselves to have been betrayed by a leader they had but recently followed into desperate engagements with complete Trust and Courage. At least we learnt, between rough admonition and many quotations from the Book, that not every tenth man was to be shot to death. Notwithstanding, four were chosen out for Ringleaders, namely Cornet Denne, Cornet Thompson, Private Church and Corporal Perkins.

We were kept prisoner, with scant victuals, until Thursday, 17th of May, when in the early morning we were herded up the turret stairs at the west corner of the church to stand out on the lead roof thereof. What a sad spectacle met our eyes on that spring morning, with the lime-trees in new leaf and even a thrush singing his carol: General Cromwell and General Fairfax and their Officers stood down there before Dragoons drawn up in long lines in the churchyard. A musket firing-party stood at the ready. Then one by one, our comrades, all good fighters for Parliament in the Wars and strong for the commonwealth, were set against the churchyard wall and cruelly shot to death.

Cornet Thompson was the first. We could hear him shouting how he did repent him of his mutiny and his shouts did not cease until the musket-balls tore his flesh. Then it was the turn of Corporal Perkins, who stood fast, looking up at us with no fear in his gaze, proclaiming that he was proud to die in this quarrel for justice and liberty. I knew not at the time that his father was also on the church roof, a witness to his brave son's death. This sea-green Leveller then bade the executioners shoot; which they presently did. Then Private Church stripped off his doublet and walked towards the wall, but turned well short thereof and faced the muskets without a word.

Cornet Denne, the last, was almost dragged to the wall, bawling out his remorse and commending his penitent soul to the Lord's Mercy. Which exhibition won him a pardon. But afterwards he was forced to preach to us again in the Church that we should repent our in subordination. While he was shedding crocodile tears of an unmanly sort in the pulpit, our three comrades were being buried in the Cotswold earth, three voices for liberty silenced forever. When I asked myself, would men of the meaner sort ever elect their representatives to govern this land with Justice.