Rupert Prince Palatine Part 19

Relief was "as improbable to be expected as easy to be desired," and though he could certainly have held the castle longer, "the city had been thereby exposed to the spoil and fury of the enemy, and so many gallant men who had so long and faithfully served His Majesty, (whose safeties His Highness conceived himself in honour obliged to preserve as dearly as his own) had been left to the slaughter and rage of a prevailing enemy."[14] It may be that Rupert mistook his position.

Perhaps he should have held the castle entrusted to him at all costs, and suffered no other considerations to cross his military councils.

But his unwillingness to desert the townspeople and his beloved cavalry, can hardly be counted to his discredit.

On September 10th the Royalist garrison marched out of Bristol, and was escorted by Fairfax himself for two miles over the Downs. Rupert had dressed himself carefully for his part, and there was nothing of the broken down Cavalier about his attire. "The Prince was clad in scarlet, {183} very richly laid in silver lace, and mounted upon a very gallant black Barbary horse; the General (Thomas Fairfax) and the Prince rode together, the General giving the Prince the right hand all the way."[15] The courtesy on both sides was perfect; the Puritans showed no unseemly triumph over their fallen foe, and the Prince bore himself towards his conquerors as a soldier and a gentleman should.

"All fair respects between the Prince and Sir Thomas Fairfax," reported a Puritan witness; "much respect from the Lord General Cromwell. He (the Prince) gave this gallant compliment to Major Harrison, 'that he never received such satisfaction in such unhappiness, and that, if ever in his power, he will repay it,'"[16]

Truly Rupert shone more in evil fortune than in good, and he seems to have completely won the hearts of his enemies. His request for muskets for his men was readily granted, on his promise to deliver them up to the Parliamentary convoy, at the end of his journey, "which every one believes he will perform,"[17] said an adherent of the Parliament. And the Puritan Colonel Butler, who convoyed him from Bristol to Oxford, wrote of him to Waller, with enthusiasm. "I had the honour to wait upon His Highness Prince Rupert, with a convoy from Bristol to this place, and seriously, I am glad I had the happiness to see him. I am confident we have been much mistaken in our intelligence concerning him. I find him a man much inclined to a happy peace, and he will certainly employ his interest with His Majesty for the accomplishing of it. I make it my request to you that you use some means that no pamphlet is printed that may derogate from his worth for the delivery of Bristow. _On my word he could not have held it, unless it had been better manned_."[18] Changed {184} indeed was the Puritan att.i.tude towards the mad Prince, and more than one officer of the Parliament was eager to justify his conduct. "I have heard the Prince much condemned for the loss of that city, but certainly they were much to blame,"

wrote another. "First let them consider that the town was entered by plain force, with the loss of much blood. And then the Prince had nothing to keep but the great fort and castle. Perchance he might hold out for some weeks, but then, of necessity, he must have lost all his horse, which was in all, 800; and he had no expectation of any relief at all. Let all this be considered, and no man can blame him."[19]

But the advocacy of the Parliament was not likely to allay Royalist indignation; nay, it was but another proof of Rupert's collusion with the enemy! The Queen spoke "largely" of her nephew, giving out in Paris that he had sold Bristol for money;[20] and the story gained colour from the fact that the Elector really did receive a large sum from the Parliament at this time. The loss of Shrewsbury was brought up against Maurice, and it was rumoured that the younger Princes were in league with the Elector; though they had never once written to him, since he had chosen to identify himself with the Parliament. Here was Digby's opportunity; and the King, overwhelmed by the unexpected catastrophe, listened to his representations. On his arrival at Oxford, Rupert received, from the hands of Secretary Nicholas, his discharge from the army, a pa.s.sport to leave the country, and a letter from the King, desiring him "to seek subsistence somewhere beyond seas."[21] Further, Nicholas was directed to deprive Legge of the Governorship of Oxford, and to place him under arrest.

With deep reluctance Nicholas obeyed orders; and both Legge and Rupert behaved themselves with quiet dignity. {185} "According to your commands, I went immediately to the Lord Treasurer," wrote Nicholas to the King. "We thought fit to send for Colonel Legge thither, who willingly submitted himself prisoner to your commands. This being despatched, I went to Colonel Legge's house, where Prince Rupert dined, and desiring to speak with him privately in the withdrawing room, I presented to him first his discharge, and then after that your letter; to which he humbly submitted himself, telling me that he was very innocent of anything that might deserve so heavy a punishment.... Your Majesty will herewith receive a letter from Prince Rupert, who will, I believe, stay here, until he hears again from you, for that he cannot without leave from the rebels go to embark himself, and without Your Majesty's license, I hear, he will not demand a pa.s.s from the rebels."[22]

Rupert's letter consisted of a grave and calm protest, and a demand for a personal interview with his uncle. "I only say that if Your Majesty had vouchsafed to hear me inform you, before you had made a final judgment,--I will presume to present this much,--you would not have censured me, as it seems you do." His first duty was, he admitted, to give an explanation to the King, but, since the opportunity was denied him--"In the next place I owe myself that justice as to publish to the world what I think will clear my erring in all this business now in question from any foul deed, or neglect, and vindicate me from desert of any prevailing malice, though I suffer it. Your commands that I should dispose myself beyond seas be pleased to consider of, whether it be in my power, though you have sent me a pa.s.s, as times now are, to go by it."[23] In accordance with this statement he published a detailed account of the state of Bristol, and all that had pa.s.sed there, and continued at Oxford, awaiting the King's pleasure. "I must not omit to acquaint Your Majesty," wrote the faithful {186} Nicholas, "that I hear Prince Rupert hath not 50 in all the world, and is reduced to so great an extremity as he hath not wherewith to feed himself or his servants.

I hear that Colonel Legge is in no more plentiful condition."[24]

The loss of Rupert's military experience was soon felt in the Royalist ranks; and would have been felt more severely had there been any serious undertaking on hand, or any army to execute it. As it was, when the first moment of panic was past and men could consider the question calmly, he appeared to have been hardly dealt with. To seriously suspect him of treachery was absurd; he was, in effect, the victim of Digby's malice; and the arrest of Legge, for no other crime than that of being the Prince's friend, favoured this view. Digby of course pretended that he could furnish proofs of Legge's contemplated treacheries, "as soon as I can come at my papers, which were left with Stanier, and all my other necessaries, at Worcester," and insisted that, so long as Rupert were in England, it would be unsafe to set his friend at liberty.[25] Equally, of course, no one--except the King--believed him; for Legge's loyalty and integrity were above suspicion. He was, says Clarendon, considered "above all temptations,"[26] and the indignation felt at this injustice greatly favoured the Prince's cause.

Digby had no mind to face "the fury of the storm"[27] which he had raised. Before Rupert could reach Oxford the Secretary had hurried the King away to Newark, a place which would be very difficult of access for the Prince. Personally, Charles had inclined to Worcester, but Digby would not hear of it. Not only was Worcester within easy distance from Oxford, but Maurice was Governor there; and Maurice had, as Digby knew, "a very tender sense {187} of the severity his brother had undergone, and was ready to revenge it."[28]

The younger Prince was only just recovering from a second severe illness. As before, his recovery had been despaired of, and his death freely reported by friends and foes. "Maurice is very sick at Worcester of the plague; some say he is dead, and the malignants are very sorrowful at the news,"[29] said a Puritan pamphlet. While he was still too ill to take any active share in the dispute, the King had written to him, telling of Rupert's dismissal, but adding kindly: "I know you to be so free from his present misfortune that it noways staggers me in that good opinion I have ever had of you; and so long as you be not weary of your employment under me, I will give you all the encouragement and contentment in my power."[30] But Maurice was far too devoted a brother to be soothed by such words. Ill though he was, he made a copy of the King's letter in his own hand to send to Rupert, and by all possible means he showed "sensibility" of the injury done to his brother. Worcester was full of his partisans, and Digby knew better than to venture into his power. At Newark, the Secretary felt himself safe, and there he continued to inflame the King against his nephew. The task was not difficult. The King was shaken and despairing, and Digby had calumnies ready to his hand.

"It hath been the constant endeavours of the English nation--who are naturally p.r.o.ne to hate strangers--to seek, with false calumnies and scandalous accusations, to blast and blemish my integrity to my uncle and to his Royal family," declared Rupert himself, a few years later.

"Neither hath the abuse laid on me by my uncle's pretended friends been sufficient, but the gross lies and forgeries of that rebel nest at Westminster have branded me with the worst {188} of crimes that possible any man might be charged with.... The command which His Majesty had been graciously pleased to confer on me--as I shall answer at the day of judgment--I did improve to the best of my power, without any treachery, deceit, or dissimulation. And for my unfortunateness, I hope it was excusable, it being not only incident where I had command, but in all other places where my uncle had any power of soldiers; yet, notwithstanding, I was the b.u.t.t at which envy shot its arrows, and all my uncle's losses were laid to my charge."[31] This was not an unfair statement of the case. It is the way of all nations and parties to blame some one for their misfortunes, and the foreign prince made a convenient scapegoat for the Royalists. The libels originated in the "rebel nest" were taken up and cherished by the foes of Rupert's own household. As early as February 1644, there had appeared a pamphlet which stated plainly that Rupert was aiming at the English Crown. He was not, it was suggested, "so far from the Crown, but, if once the course of law, and the power of the Parliament be extinguished, he may bid as fair for it, by the sword, as the King; having possessed himself of so much power already under colour of serving the King; and having, by his German manner of plundering, and active disposition in military affairs, won the hearts of so many soldiers of fortune, and men of prey. He is already their chieftain and their Prince, and he is like enough to be their King.... This whole war is managed by his skill, labour and industry; insomuch as, if the King command one thing and he another, the Prince must be preferred before the King. Witness Banbury, which was secured from plundering under the King's own hand; but that was slighted, and the town plundered by Prince Rupert vilifying the King's authority, and making it a fault of his unexpertness, saying, 'His Uncle knew not what belonged {189} to war.'

... Neither shall Prince Rupert want abettors in his cursed design; for many of our debauched and low-fortuned young n.o.bility and gentry, suiting so naturally with this new conqueror, will make no bones to shoulder out the old King."[32] Eagerly did Rupert's Royalist foes catch at the libel. We have already seen that, before Marston Moor, Digby, Percy and Wilmot ventured to a.s.sert openly that the victory of Prince or Parliament was a matter of indifference. And even after that battle had broken his power, Sir George Radcliffe wrote to Ormonde of "the great fear some have of Prince Rupert, his success and greatness."[33]

The formation of Rupert's peace-party in 1645 put the finishing touch to Digby's hatred of him, and also afforded means of exciting the King's distrust. The sanguine and unpractical Secretary, ignorant of military details, did not know that the King was beaten and could never draw another army into the field. He had a thousand schemes for gaining over the Scots, for obtaining help from Ireland or France, and he would not, and could not, believe that the game was lost.

Consequently he resented the suggestion of compromise even more hotly than did the King. "Alas! my Lord!" he wrote to Jermyn in August, "I do not know four persons living, besides myself and you, that have not already given clear demonstration that they will purchase their own, and as they flatter themselves, the Kingdom's quiet, at any price to the King, the Church, and the faithfullest of his party... The next news that you will hear, after we have been one month at Oxford, will be that I, and those few others who may be thought by our Counsels to fortify the King in firmness to his principles, shall be forced or torn from him. You will find Prince Rupert, {190} Byron, Gerard, Will Legge, and Ormonde[34] are the prime instruments to impose the necessity upon the King of submitting to what they, and most of the King's party at Oxford, shall think fit."[35]

But though he thus posed as a martyr, Digby had no intention of letting his rivals prevail. Ormonde he tried to gain over, of course without success, by the suggestion that he might supplant Rupert as Commander-in-Chief; and he had already laid a deliberate and ingenious plot for ruining the reputations of Rupert and Legge. By means of his agent, Walsingham, he obtained incriminating letters which represented both the Prince and his friend as deeply involved in intrigue with the Parliament. The letters, which are anonymous, were apparently the work of some spy in the opposing camp, who was willing to supply any information desired,--for a consideration. The Secretary was scarcely so insane as to believe in the accusations which they contained, but it suited his purpose to feign belief. Certainly it seems strange that Digby, who was undoubtedly a gentleman, and by no means devoid of honour and generosity, could have stooped to such baseness; but he had a versatile mind, and he probably persuaded himself that Rupert's peace policy was as dangerous to the King's interests as actual treachery could be, and that any means were therefore justifiable to overthrow its authors.

As early as August 8th, Walsingham forwarded to his patron an anonymous letter which stated the absolute necessity of deposing Rupert from the chief command. "I have not been silent heretofore concerning Prince Rupert and his a.s.sistant, Will Legge.... Many did suppose, and those none of the weakest men, that upon the late defeat (Naseby), his Majesty would seriously take to heart the many great {191} and irregular errors. .h.i.therto admitted."[36] Four days later, Walsingham himself wrote from Oxford, hinting at a design to betray Bristol, and proposing that Digby should get Legge supplanted at Oxford by Glemham.

"Legge is pleased daily to show his teeth plainer to you and yours....

Prince Rupert salutes him daily from Bristol with epistles beginning 'Brother Governor', which are communicated to the Junto you know of,...

Prince Rupert is now in general obloquy with all sorts of people, except Will Legge, and some few others of that stamp. Now every one desires his absence and discarding. His Majesty has had experience both of his wilfulness and ignorance, _if of no worse_. Now is the time to take the bridle out of Phaeton's hands, and permit him not a third time to burn the world... Something extraordinary is on hand is evident from the daily letters which pa.s.s between here and Bristol.

'Tis sure time to provide for the safety of Oxford; for I am certain many things are done which will not bear examination, both within and without the line."[37]

On the sixteenth, Walsingham wrote by Lady Digby's command, that Lord Portland had joined the "c.u.mberlanders," as Rupert's party was now called, and must be banished at all costs. The "c.u.mberlanders" were endeavouring also to win Ashburnham, but some thought him "a slippery piece, and dangerous to build upon." To this was added a hint that the Prince was leaguing with the Irish rebels,--the last thing he was likely to do as he had just urged the King to abandon them; but Walsingham added cautiously that he held "only the skirts" of the story, and could say nothing certain.[38]

On September 10th Bristol fell. That the very thing should happen at which they had so darkly hinted, was luck beyond what the conspirators had hoped; and Walsingham's {192} anonymous friend wrote to reproach him for "making no better use of my frequent informations concerning Prince Rupert and his creature, Legge." Further, he stated that Oxford was also sold to the Parliament and would speedily share the fate of Bristol. "I have seen the transactions for the bargain already, and there is no prevention but by an immediate repair of His Majesty thither, changing the Governor, and putting the city into the hands of some worthy man. The same I say for Newark (?); for, believe me, we esteem ourselves masters of both already. But whilst His Majesty is solicitous for this, I would not, by any means, have him neglect his personal safety, upon which he will needs have an extraordinary watchful eye; for I hear a whisper as if something ill were intended him, and to your master for his sake."[39] This extraordinary doc.u.ment apparently const.i.tutes the "proofs" against Legge of which Digby wrote to Nicholas.

The arrival of Rupert at Oxford, on September 16th, gave some uneasiness to the conspirators. "Prince Rupert is hourly expected with his train, which will so curb the endeavours of all honest men that it will be mere madness to attempt anything,"[40] wrote Walsingham! But two days later he had gained courage from the Prince's quiet acceptance of his disgrace, to declare that now was the time to restore prosperity to the Kingdom, "by weeding out those unhappy men that poison all our happiness." Also, he related an incident intended to give colour to the reports of Rupert's ambition. "As even now I came through the garden of Christchurch, a gentleman met me, and took me into the inner garden, and told me that he would show me our new ruler. Fancy! When I came there, I found Prince Rupert and Legge, with the Lord--walking gravely between them, on the further side. I seemed to take no notice of the gentleman's meaning, but came away, resenting {193} to see the n.o.bility and gentry stand there bare at a distance, as if His Majesty had been present."[41] A second letter, bearing the same date, and sent at Lady Digby's desire, states that Rupert had declared that to treat was "the only thing His Majesty hath now to do." But this desire for peace Walsingham represented as a mere pose to mask the Prince's real aims. "Observe but this popular and perilous design!... a.s.sure yourself, my Lord, that though this be Prince Rupert's aim here pretended 'tis but the medium to his real one; yet it is so plausible that you would bless yourself to see how it is here cherished by all that are either malcontent, timorous, or suspected... Surely there is no way left for His Majesty to recover, prosper, and give life to his discouraged party, but by expressing his high dislike and distrust to Prince Rupert."[42]

But notwithstanding Walsingham's hints, Rupert's desire for a treaty was perfectly sincere and disinterested. Personally he had less to gain by it than most of the Cavaliers, and certainly he had nothing to save, for he had no stake in the country. And the perfect integrity of his party is sufficiently guaranteed by the very fact that it counted Richmond, Legge, and Philip Warwick among its members.

By October Rupert's patience was exhausted. He could not quit the country without the leave of the Parliament, he had no money to support himself, or his servants, and Legge was still a prisoner on his account. He resolved, at all hazards, to see the King. Fain would he have had Richmond accompany him, but the Duke, though still his faithful friend, would not leave Oxford.

"The Duke of Richmond goes not hence upon many considerations, though Prince Rupert much desired it. They are very good friends, and both much for peace, though not for particular ones,"[43] reported a Cavalier from Oxford. {194} On October 8th Maurice met Rupert at Banbury, and together they set out for Newark. The journey was attended with much danger, for Newark was surrounded by a large army of the Parliament, and the Parliament had warned its officers to intercept the Princes. But Rupert in prosperity had always been faithful to his friends, and he now found that they would not forsake him in adversity.

A troop of officers volunteered to escort him, and Maurice brought an addition of strength, making about 120 in all.

The enemy had posted about 1,500 horse at various places, to intercept the Princes' march, but all were skilfully evaded. Near the end of their journey, however, the Princes found themselves stopped at Belvoir Bridge, by Rossetter with three hundred horse. There was no choice but to charge through them. Two attempts failed, and Rupert turned to his men, saying cheerfully: "We have beaten them twice, we must beat them once more, and then over the pa.s.s, and away."[44] The third charge, carried them through the enemy, as he promised, and then they divided into two parties. The larger troop went on, with the baggage, to Belvoir; but the Princes, with about twenty more, proceeded by a short cut, which Rupert remembered pa.s.sing ten years before when a boy, "shooting of conies." Here they were hotly pursued by a body of horse, and the enemy, thinking the Prince trapped, offered him quarter. His only answer was to direct his friends to follow him closely, and, breaking through the hostile ranks, they came safely to Belvoir Castle.[45]

Digby had not awaited the Prince's arrival, but had fled north, on the pretext of leading a force to join Montrose; and it was thought, on all sides, that he had done wisely. The King no sooner heard of his nephews' arrival at Belvoir than he sent to forbid their nearer approach. "Least of all I cannot forget what opinion you were of when I was at Cardiff," he wrote to Rupert, "and therefore must remember {195} you of the letter I wrote to you from thence, in the Duke of Richmond's cipher, warning you that if you be not resolved to carry yourself according to my resolution, therein mentioned, you are no fit company for me."[46]

In defiance of this prohibition, Rupert came on next day to Newark.

Within the town there existed a considerable party in his favour, headed by the Governor, Sir Richard w.i.l.l.ys. Two days earlier w.i.l.l.ys had received the King at the city gates, but he now rode out a couple of miles, with a large escort of horse, to meet the Prince. The accounts of the scene that followed are many, but all agree in the main points. Rupert walked straight into the presence of the King, and, without any apology or ceremony, abruptly informed him "that he was come to render an account of the loss of Bristol."[47] The King made no reply,--he probably did not know what to say,--and immediately went to supper. His nephews followed, and stood by him during the meal; but, though he asked a few questions of Maurice, he still would not speak to Rupert. After an embarra.s.sing hour the King retired to his bed-chamber, and the Princes went to the house of w.i.l.l.ys.

On the next morning Rupert was permitted to lay his defence before a court-martial, which acquitted him of any lack of "courage or fidelity," though not of indiscretion.[48] The verdict, though qualified, was in effect a triumph for Rupert, and completely vindicated his honour. As to the relief which the King fancied he had intended to send to Bristol, Sir Edward Walker, no friend to Rupert, admits that "it was a very plausible design on paper,... and I fear it would have been a longer time than we fancied to ourselves, before we made both ends to meet."[49] Here the matter should have ended, and had it done so, the whole {196} affair would have been little to Rupert's discredit. Unfortunately his pa.s.sionate temper now put him completely in the wrong.

The King had resolved to quit Newark, and, remembering w.i.l.l.ys's frequent quarrels with the Commissioners of the County, and also his recent display of partisanship, he judged it unwise to leave him behind. For this reason he ordered him to change posts with Bellasys, who, since the death of Lord Bernard Stuart, had commanded the King's guards. This was promotion for w.i.l.l.ys, but a very unwelcome promotion, for which he perfectly understood the King's motives. Moreover, Bellasys was Digby's friend, and the whole military party rose in protest against this new evidence of Digby's power. It was agreed that w.i.l.l.ys should demand the grounds for his removal, and a trial by court-martial. The stormy scene which resulted has been rather confusedly described by Walker, Clarendon and others, but the best account is to be found in the diary of Symonds, though he unhappily repented of having written it, and tore a part of it out of his book.

The King had just returned from church, and sat down to dinner, when Rupert, Maurice, Gerard, w.i.l.l.ys and some other officers entered the room. Rupert "came in discontentedly, with his hands at his sides, and approached very near the King." Charles thereupon ordered the dinner to be taken away, and, rising, walked to a corner of the room. Rupert, Gerard and w.i.l.l.ys followed him. w.i.l.l.ys spoke first, asking, respectfully enough, to be told the names of his accusers. Rupert broke in impatiently: "By G.o.d! This is done in malice to me, because Sir Richard hath always been my faithful friend!" Gerard then launched into a protest on his own account, and Rupert again interrupted, saying: "The cause of all this is Digby!"--"I am but a child! Digby can do what he will with me," retorted the King bitterly.--A long and violent altercation followed. Rupert referred to Bristol, and the King sighed, "O nephew!" {197} and then stopped short. Whereupon Rupert cried, for the third time: "Digby is the man that hath caused all this distraction between us!" But the King could endure no more: "They are all rogues and rascals that say so!" he answered sharply, "and in effect traitors that seek to dishonour my best subjects!" There was no more to be said; Gerard bowed and went out. Rupert "showed no reverence, but went out proudly, his hands at his sides."[50]

That evening the Princes and their party sent in a pet.i.tion to the effect that: "Many of us trusted in high commands in Your Majesty's service, have not only our commissions taken away without any cause or reason expressed, whereby our honours are blemished to the world, our fortunes ruined, and we rendered incapable of command from any foreign prince,--but many others, as we have cause to fear, are designed to suffer in like manner."[51] They repeated their demand for trials by court-martial, and desired that, if this were refused, they might have pa.s.ses to go over seas. The King answered that he would not make a court-martial the judge of his actions, and sent the pa.s.ses. Next morning about ten o'clock, the two princes and Lord Gerard came privately to the bed-chamber to take their leave. Gerard "expressed some sense of folly,"[52] but the Princes offered no apology, and, with about two hundred officers, they rode off to Belvoir, "the King looking out of a window, and weeping to see them go."[53]

As an instance of the way in which stories are exaggerated, Pepys's account of the affair, written some twenty years after, is instructive: "The great officers of the King's army mutinied and came, in that manner, with swords drawn, into the market-place of the town where the King was. Whereupon the King says, 'I must horse,' and {198} there himself personally; when every one expected they should be opposed, the King came, and cried to the head of the mutineers, which was Prince Rupert,--'Nephew, I command you to be gone!' So the Prince, in all his fury and discontent, withdrew; and his company scattered."[54]

This was the climax of the long-continued strife between the military and civilian parties; the civilians had triumphed, and the princes now resolved to leave the country. In great indignation, a large number of officers prepared to follow them. "This is an excellent reward for Rupert and Maurice!" declared Gerard wrathfully.[55] Rupert himself wrote to Legge: "Dear Will, I hope Goodwin has told you what reasons I had to quit His Majesty's service. I have sent Osborne to London for a pa.s.s to go beyond seas; when I have an answer you shall know more.

Pray tell Sir Charles Lucas that I would have written to him before this, and to George Lisle, but I was kept close here.... If I can but get permission, I shall hope to see you and the rest of my friends once more; and in particular to bid farewell to my Lord Portland. I forgot to tell you that Lord Digby is beaten back again to Shipton. Alas, poor man!"[56]

Osborne, whom Rupert had sent to London to obtain from the Parliament a pa.s.s and safe convoy to a sea-port, found his mission greatly facilitated by Digby's new defeat, and the consequent capture of his papers. It was characteristic of the Secretary, that, though his love-letters were carefully preserved in cipher, all those of political importance were written in plain language. Among these papers was found a copy of the King's answer to Rupert's advice to treat, and the Parliament was moved thereby in Rupert's favour. A pa.s.s was granted, but on condition of a promise given never again to bear arms against the {199} Parliament. This promise the Princes would not give; and, as they could not possibly leave the country without the Parliament's good will, they fought their way back to Woodstock.

A few weeks later Charles returned to Oxford, and at once released Legge from his confinement. Rupert was still at Woodstock, and his faithful friend lost no time in attempting to mediate between him and the King. "My most dear Prince," he wrote, November 21st, "the liberty I have got is but of little contentment when divided from you..., I have not hitherto lost a day without moving His Majesty to recall you; and truly, this very day, he protested to me he would count it a great happiness to have you with him, so he received the satisfaction he is bound in honour to have. What that is you will receive from the Duke of Richmond. The King says, as he is your Uncle, he is in the nature of a parent to you, and swears that if Prince Charles had done as you did he would never see him again, without the same he desires from you.... you must thank the d.u.c.h.ess of Richmond, for she furnished a present to procure this messenger--I being not so happy as to have any money myself."[57] And four days later, he wrote again: "I am of opinion you should write to your Uncle--you ought to do it--; and if you offered your service to him yet, and submitted yourself to his disposing and advice, many of your friends think it could not be a dishonour, but rather the contrary, seeing he is a King, your Uncle, and, in effect, a parent to you."[58]

But Rupert sulked, like Achilles in his tent, and his other friends took up the protest. "This night I was with the King, who expresses great kindness to you, but beleevs y^r partinge was so much the contrary as Y^r Highnes cannot but think it finill," wrote an anonymous correspondent, "Now truly, Sir, His Majesty conceiving it soe, in my {200} opinion, 'tis ffitt you should make sume hansume applycation, for this reason; because my Lord Duke and others here, are much your servants, and all that are so wish your return to courte, though it be but to part frindlye. But I think it necessary you should prepare the way first by letters to the Kinge. Sir, I have no designes in this but your service, and if you understand me rightlye, that will prevayle so far as you will consider what I saye before you resolve the contrarye.

I knowe there be sum that are your enemies, but they are such as may barcke, but I am confident are not able to fight against you appeare.

Therefore, Sir, I beseech you, do not contrybute to the satisfaction of your foes, and the ruyne of your friends, by neglecting anything in your power to make peace with fortune. If after all your attempts to be rightlye understood you shall fayle of that, yet you cannot waynt honor for the action. 'Tis your Uncle you shall submit to, and a King, not in the condition he meryt! What others may saye I knowe not, but really, soe may I speak my opinion as a person that valews you above all the world besydes. I am confident you know how faithfully my harte is to your Highness!"[59] Also from Lord Dorset came a pathetic appeal: "If my prayers can prevail, you shall not have the heart to leave us all in our saddest times. If my advice were worthy of following, surely you should not abandon your Uncle in the disastrous condition these evil storms have placed him in."[60]

These exhortations and entreaties at length prevailed; the Prince suffered his natural generosity to overcome his pride, and was induced to write the required apology: "I humbly acknowledge that great error, which I find your Majesty justly sensible of, which happened upon occasion at Newark."[61] Several letters pa.s.sed, and Charles then sent {201} his nephew, "by Colonel Legge, a paper to confess a fault."

Rupert returned a blank sheet with his signature subscribed, to signify his perfect submission to his Uncle's will: "the King, with tears in his eyes, took that so well that all was at peace.... The Prince went to Oxford, and the King embraced him, and repented much the ill-usage of his nephew." To this account of the reconciliation, is appended the marginal note, "ask the d.u.c.h.ess of Richmond," but the information that she was able to supply was never filled in.[62]

Rupert was now restored to the favour and the counsels of his Uncle, but not to military command. The war was practically over, and though the King would have had his nephew raise a new life-guard, the Oxford Council quashed the design. Then Charles confided to Rupert his intention of taking refuge with the Scottish army. The Prince distrusted the Scots, and strongly combated the idea; but, finding that he could not move the King's resolution, he obtained from him a signed statement that he acted against his nephew's advice. For one mistake, at least, the Prince would not be held responsible. April 27th, 1646, the King left Oxford secretly, rejecting Rupert's companionship on the grounds that his "tallness" would betray him.[63]

Oxford was now almost the last town holding out; on the first of May, Fairfax sat down before it, and the end was not long in coming. A little skirmishing took place, but the Royalists had no real hope of success. On one occasion Rupert, Maurice and Gerard went out against the Scots, with "about twenty horse, in stockings and shoes." In mere bravado, they charged three troops of the enemy, and Maurice's page, Robert Holmes, of whom we shall hear more hereafter, was wounded.

Rupert also was hurt, for the first time in the war; "a lieutenant of the enemy shot the Prince in the shoulder, and shook his hand, so {202} that his pistol fell out of his hand; but it shot his enemy's horse."[64]

Rupert had previously demanded of the governor, Sir Thomas Glemham, whether he would defend the town, but Glemham replied that he must obey the Council, and Rupert therefore interfered no more in the matter. On May 18th a treaty was opened with Fairfax, but broken off on a disagreement about terms. But by June 1st, all the water had been drawn off from the city, and surrender was inevitable. The treaty was renewed, and Rupert prudently came to the Council to demand a particular clause for the safety of himself and his brother. This occasioned a quarrel with Lord Southampton, who retorted that "the Prince was in good company," and was understood by Rupert to imply disrespect to his person. He sent Gerard to expostulate with Southampton, who offered no apology, but, saying that his words had been unfaithfully reported, repeated them accurately. Rupert was not satisfied, and sent Gerard again, with a message that he expected to meet Southampton "with his sword in his hand," and at as early a date as possible, lest the duel should be prevented. The Earl cheerfully appointed the next morning, and selected pistols as his weapons, acknowledging that he was no match for the Prince with the sword. But fortunately the suspicion of the Council had been roused; the gates were shut, the would-be combatants arrested, and a reconciliation effected. "And the Prince ever after had a good respect for the Earl."[65] There was no surer way of winning Rupert's esteem than by accepting a challenge from him.

After this episode, the special clause by which the Princes were to have the benefit of all the other articles, and free leave to quit the country, was inserted in the treaty, and accepted by Fairfax. Indeed the Parliament showed the Princes a greater leniency than might have been expected. They {203} were permitted to take with them all their servants, and to remain in England for six months longer, provided they did not approach within twenty miles of London. But on their quitting Oxford, June 22nd, Fairfax gave them leave on his own authority to go to Oatlands, which was within the proscribed distance of the capital.

The reason for their move thither, was their desire to see the Elector, who was then in London; but it greatly excited the wrath of the Parliament. Notwithstanding the express permission of Fairfax, it was declared that the Princes had broken the articles, and they were ordered to leave the country immediately, on pain of being treated as prisoners. In a letter curiously signed "Rupert and Maurice," they answered, meekly enough, that they had acted in all good faith, believing the general's pa.s.s sufficient, and that in coming to Oatlands they had regarded the convenience of the house more than the distance from London, "of which we had no doubt at all."[66]

But the Parliament refused to be pacified, and insisted that the Princes must depart within ten days. A long correspondence ensued, relating chiefly to pa.s.ses for various servants, "whom we would not willingly leave behind." The list forwarded to the Parliament by Rupert, included a chaplain, some seven or eight gentlemen, footmen, grooms, a tailor, a gunsmith, a farrier, a secretary, "my brother's secretary's brother," and "a laundress and her maid."[67] On July 4th the brothers reached Dover, whence Rupert took ship for Calais, and Maurice for the Hague. Rupert's "family," as his train was called, followed more slowly, and rejoined him on July 23rd, at St. Germains.

"Blessed be G.o.d, for his and our deliverance from the Parliament,"[68]

piously concludes the journal of his secretary.

So ended Rupert's part in the Civil War; a part played, on the whole, creditably, and yet not without serious faults {204} both of temper and judgment. In the earlier days of the war, while possessed of the King's confidence, the Prince had been almost uniformly successful.

Later, when he had to struggle against plots and counter-plots, a vacillating King, false friends, and open enemies, he failed. That Digby had laid a deliberate scheme for his overthrow is evident; yet he had made Digby his enemy by his own faults of temper, and his own indiscretions had placed the necessary weapons in the Secretary's hands. That he was unjustly treated with regard to Bristol there can be no doubt, but he ruined his own cause by his hopeless loss of temper. Nothing could justify the mutinous scene at Newark, and Rupert afterwards confessed himself ashamed of it. That the King's affairs would have prospered better had Digby's influence been less and Rupert's more, seems probable. Faults and limitations, Rupert had, but he understood war as Digby did not. His fidelity was irreproachable, and could never have been seriously doubted. But he knew when the cause was lost, though the sanguine secretary failed to perceive it, and his advice to make peace was reasonable enough. It was unfortunate that the position was such as made that reasonable advice impossible to follow.