The Berties of Grimsthorpe Castle

Step by step, however, they retreated bravely, and Rupert, who had returned from his charge, sought in vain to collect his scattered troopers, so as to fall again on the rebels; but some were plundering, some chasing the enemy, and none could be got together. Robert was shot through the thigh bone, and fell. He was instantly surrounded by the rebels on horseback; but his son, Montagu, Lord Willoughby, seeing his danger, flung himself alone among the enemy, and forcing his way forward, raised his father in his arms thinking of nothing else, and unheeding his own peril. Montagu found his father  lying in front of his own regiment, with one leg broken by a musket shot. Now this happening at that point of time when they they received the charge of the enemy’s horse, so that it was impossible to carry him off, he stood undauntedly with his pike in his hand bestriding his father and in that posture wounding one of their Captains in the face and almost pushed him off his horse; but his own men at the same time giving back , he was left engaged in the midst of the enemy choosing rather to be taken with his father that he might be in a position of rendering him what service was in his power, than to save himself leaving him in that distress.

The throng of enemy around called to him to surrender, and, hastily giving up his sword, he carried his father into the nearest shed, and laid him on a heap of straw, vainly striving to staunch the blood. It was a bitterly cold night, and the frosty wind came howling through the darkness. Far above, on the ridge of the hill, the fires of the King's army shone with red light, and some way off on the other side twinkled those of the Parliamentary forces. Glimmering lanterns or torches moved about the battlefield, those of the savage plunderers who crept about to despoil the dead. Whether the battle were won or lost, the father and son knew not, and the guard who watched them knew as little. Robert murmured, "If it please God I should survive, I never will fight in the same field with boys again!"–no doubt deeming that young Rupert had wrought all the mischief. His thoughts were all on the cause, his son's all on him; and piteous was that night, as the blood continued to flow, and nothing availed to check it, nor was any aid near to restore the old man's ebbing strength.

Toward midnight Robert’s old comrade Essex had time to understand his condition, and sent some officers to enquire for him, and promise speedy surgical attendance. Robert was still full of spirit, and spoke to them so strongly of their broken faith, and of the sin of disloyalty and rebellion, that they slunk away one by one out of the hut, and dissuaded Essex from coming himself to see his old friend, as he had intended. The surgeon, however, arrived, but too late, Robert was already so much exhausted by cold and loss of blood, that he died early in the morning of the 24th, all his son's gallant devotion having failed to save him. The sorrowing son received an affectionate note the next day from the King, full of regret for his father and esteem for himself. England lost a distinguished soldier who bravely supported the King . Clarendon’s describes him as “ of  a very noble extraction and inherited a great fortune…He was a man of great honour and spent his youth and vigour of his age in military actions and commands abroad.; and albeit he indulged to himself great liberties of life , yet he still preserved a very good reputation with all men of a very generous nature and punctual in what he undertook, and in exacting what was due to him… he had very many friends and very few enemies, and died generally lamented.”   Robert’s sons Francis Bertie and Henry Bertie died in the same battle   The Bertie name was once again embellished.  Robert died 23rd October 1642.