That Digby's intrigues were already beginning to disturb the King's councils is apparent from a sympathetic letter addressed by Nicholas to Rupert. Evidently the Prince had expressed some indignation at the vexatious interference of incapable persons. "The King is much troubled to see your Highness discontented," says Nicholas, "And I could wish that some busybodies would not meddle, as they do, with other men's offices; and that the King would leave every officer respectively to look after his own proper charge; and that His Majesty would content himself to overlook all men, and see that each did his duty in his proper place; which would give abundant satisfaction, and quiet those that are jealous to see some men meddle who have nothing to do with affairs."[17] But in spite of this plain speaking, the divisions which were to prove so fatal to the cause, were as yet but in embryo. Rupert was still the hero of the hour, still all powerful with his uncle, when he was near him. His next exploit was to raise his reputation yet higher.
In the middle of June, Rupert accomplished his famous march to Chalgrove Field. Intending to beat up Essex's quarters and to capture a convoy of money, he left Oxford on a Saturday afternoon with a force of some two thousand in all, horse and foot. Tetsworth was reached at 1 a.m. and, though all the roads were lined by the enemy, who continually fired upon the Royalists, Rupert marched through, forbidding any retaliation. By 3 a.m. he was at Postcombe, where he surprised several houses, and took some prisoners. Two hours later he reached Chinnor, and had surrounded and entered it before the Parliamentary soldiers were even aware of his presence. There, many of the enemy were killed and a hundred and twenty taken prisoners. But, unfortunately for Rupert, the noise of the conflict reached the very convoy he was come to seek, and it was saved by a detour from its intended route. Finding that he had missed the object of his expedition, Rupert began a leisurely retreat, hoping to draw the enemy after him. In this hope he was not disappointed. A body of Essex's troops hastily followed him, and between seven and eight a.m. he was attacked by his pursuers. At nine o'clock on Sunday morning he halted in a cornfield at Chalgrove. First securing his passage over the Thames by sending a party to hold the bridge, he lined the lane leading to it with dragoons, and then attempted by a slow retreat to draw the enemy into it. They followed eagerly; but the Prince suddenly realised that only a single hedge parted him from his foes, and thereupon halted abruptly. "For," said he, "the rebels, being so neere us, may bring our reere into confusion before we can recover to our ambush." Seeing him halt, the enemy began to fire, and the impetuous Prince could contain himself no longer. "'Yea,' said he, 'their insolency is not to be endured.' This said, His Highness, facing all about, set spurs to his horse, and first of all, in the very face of the dragooners, leapt the hedge that parted him from the rebels... Every man, as he could, jumbled over after him; and as about fifteen were gotten over, the Prince drew them up into a front." It was enough. The enemy, among whom was Hampden, were both better officered and better disciplined than heretofore, but they could not stand before the charge of the terrible Prince. The skirmish was sharp but short; Hampden fell, and, after a valiant if brief resistance, his comrades fled. Rupert's friend, Legge, had been, "as usual", taken prisoner, but was rescued in the confusion of the Puritans' flight. The Cavaliers, after nearly fourteen hours in the saddle, were too weary for pursuit. Rupert quickly rallied them, held the field half-an-hour, and then marched towards home. In less than twenty-four hours he had made a circuit of nearly fifty miles, through the heart of the enemy's country; had taken many prisoners, colours, and horses, surprised two outposts, won a battle, and lost about a dozen of his men. And it is added: "The modesty of all when they returned to Oxford was equal to their daring in the field."[18] Two of his prisoners Rupert had left at Chalgrove, with a surgeon to attend their wounds; but they showed themselves so ungrateful for this consideration as to break their parole. Essex received Rupert's complaint of their dishonourable conduct in a soldierly spirit, and returned two Royalist prisoners in exchange.[19] Essex was indeed always a courteous foe. Some time after this incident Rupert's falconer and hawk fell into his hands, and were by him generously restored to the Prince. Rupert happened to be absent from Oxford at that period, but the Puritan general's courtesy was gratefully acknowledged by Colonel Legge.[20]
Rupert's next duty was to bring the Queen to Oxford, a matter of no slight importance; for not only was her personal safety at stake, but also that of her money, arms, and troops. Essex, as well as the Prince, set out to meet Her Majesty, and it was Rupert's object to keep his own troops always between Essex and the Queen. On July 1st he quartered at Buckingham, and early in the next morning some of his men were attacked by those of Essex, at Whitebridge. Rupert was in the act of shaving when the noise of the skirmish came to his ears. Half-dressed and half-shaved, as he was, he dashed out without a moment's delay, charged and scattered his foes, and then quietly returned to resume his toilet. Throughout this march he kept Essex on perpetual duty, harassing him by day and night, until, after some dexterous manoeuvring, he left him unexpectedly on Brickhill, and himself joined the Queen at Stratford-on-Avon. That night, says tradition, Queen and Prince were the guests of Shakespeare's grand-daughter. If this was really the case, Rupert doubtless regarded his hostess with deep interest; for all the Palatines could quote Shakespeare. On July 13th the King came to meet his wife at Edgehill, and King, Queen and Prince slept at Wroxton Abbey. On the following day they entered Oxford in safety. The Queen's arrival considerably changed the condition of the University. The colleges were populated no more by scholars, but by ladies and courtiers; Oxford was no longer a mere garrison, it was also a court. Chief among the noble ladies who attended the Queen, was the beautiful young Duchess of Richmond, only daughter of the King's dead friend, "Steenie," Duke of Buckingham. She it was whom her father had once destined to be Rupert's sister-in-law, as the bride of his brother Henry. But ere the bride was ten years old, both her father and her intended bridegroom had died untimely deaths, and the fair Mary Villiers was therefore brought up in the Royal family as the adopted daughter of the King. For her father's sake, and for her own, she had always been a petted favourite of her royal guardian, who called her "The Butterfly", a name derived from an incident which occurred when the lady was eleven years old. Once, dressed in her widow's weeds—she had been a widow at eleven—she had climbed a tree in the King's private garden, and had been nearly shot as a strange bird. But the courtier sent to shoot her perceived his error in time, and, at her own request, sent her in a hamper to the King, with a message that he had captured a beautiful butterfly alive; and the name clung to her ever after.[21] The King's affection for her and for the Duke of Richmond made it seem good to him to unite them in marriage, and the arrangement appears to have pleased all parties. Mary had disliked her boy-husband, Lord Herbert;[22] but the Duke she seems to have regarded with favour. Possibly his quiet and melancholy disposition supplied the necessary complement to her own merry and vivacious temperament. In 1636 the Queen had refused to have her in the Bedchamber, on the plea that her charms eclipsed all others; and now, in 1643, Mary Villiers was, at the age of twenty, in the prime of her beauty. Rumour said that she had won the heart of "the mad Prince," while the equally lively Mrs. Kirke had subjugated that of Maurice. A libellous Puritan tract represents Mrs. Kirke as extolling Maurice's "deserts and abilities," though she was forced to acknowledge that he "did not seem to be a courtier." But the Duchess assured her companions "that none was to be compared to Prince Rupert."[23] Nor was it only Puritans who commented on Rupert's admiration for the Duchess. The Irish Cavalier, Daniel O'Neil, "said things" in Ireland to Lord Taafe, after which he lost both the Prince's favour and his troop of Horse.[24] Rupert hotly resented the imputations cast upon him, and, had they been other than slanders, it is impossible to conceive that he and the Duke could have maintained their close and faithful friendship. The Duke, with his "haughty spirit", was not a man to dissemble, and his letters to Rupert are all full of solicitude for his welfare, and of sympathy and consolation for his troubles. Even in his hour of failure and ruin the Duke stood loyally by his side, though, in so doing, he was putting himself in opposition to his adored sovereign. Still it is certain that Rupert both felt and evinced a very strong admiration for the Duchess. "There will be a widow, and whose she shall be but Prince Rupert's, I know not," wrote a Cavalier, when the Duke's death was rumoured in 1655.[25] But the Duchess took for her third husband, not Rupert, but "Northern Tom Howard," whom she said she married for love, and to please herself; her two former marriages having been made to please the Court.[26] Most likely she had never really cared for the Prince, and had merely amused herself with a flirtation. She was, no doubt, proud of so distinguished a conquest, but she never disguised her friendship for her supposed lover, and she sent him messages by all sorts of people, in the most open way. "I had an express command to present the Duchess of Richmond's service to you,"[27] wrote Rupert's enemy, Percy, in July 1643.
The society of the Duchess could not detain the active Prince at Oxford, and within four days of his arrival there, he set out for a second attempt upon Bristol. The Royalist arms were prevailing in the West. A few days previously Nicholas had reported to the Prince the victory of Lansdowne, with the comforting assurance that "Prince Maurice, thanks be to God, is very well and hath received no hurt, albeit he ran great hazards in his own person."[28] Two days later Maurice arrived in Oxford, to obtain supplies of horses and ammunition for Ralph Hopton, who lay seriously wounded at Devizes. Thither Maurice returned with all speed, and, immediately on his arrival, took place the battle of Roundway Down. This was a brilliant victory for the Royalists, and the news was received in Oxford with much rejoicing; albeit for Rupert the joy was tempered with disgust at the credit which thereby redounded to Lord Wilmot.[29] These successes increased the Prince's desire to capture Bristol, then the second city in the Kingdom, and the key of all South Wales. Maurice and Hertford were now at liberty to assist him, and, on July 18th, he began his march with fourteen regiments of foot, "all very weak," and several troops of horse. Waller was the General of the Parliament now opposed to him, but Waller's troops had been in a broken condition ever since the victories of Hopton and Wilmot, and he retreated before Rupert's advance. On the 20th, Thursday, Maurice came to meet his brother at Chipping Sodbury, and joined his march. On Sunday they were within two miles of Bristol, and the two Princes took a view of the city from Clifton Church, which stood upon a hill within musket-shot of the porch. While they stood in the church-yard the enemy fired cannon on them, but without effect; seeing that their shot would be harmless, Rupert quartered some musketeers and dragoons upon the place. That night Maurice retired over the river to his own troops; and the same evening the enemy made a sally, but were repulsed.
On Monday morning Rupert marched all his forces to the edge of the Down, in order to display them to the garrison of Bristol; and Lord Hertford, who commanded the Western army, made a similar show upon the other side. About 11 a.m. Rupert sent to the Governor—Nathaniel Fiennes, a son of Lord Say—a formal summons to surrender. The summons was of course refused, and immediately the attack began. Long after dark Rupert continued to fire on the city. "It was a beautiful piece of danger to see so many fires incessantly in the dark from the pieces on both sides, for a whole hour together.... And in those military masquerades was Monday night passed."[30] Tuesday was spent in skirmishing, while Rupert went over the river to consult with Lord Hertford and Maurice. The result of this consultation was a general assault of both armies next morning. "The word for the soldiers was to be 'Oxford', and the sign between the two armies to know each other, to be green colours, either bows or such like; and that every officer and soldier be without any band or handkerchief about his neck."[31] The zeal of Maurice's Cornish soldiers nearly proved disastrous, for on Wednesday morning, "out of a military ambition", they anticipated the order to attack.[32] As soon as he heard the firing Rupert hastened to draw up his own men, but the scaling ladders were not ready. In consequence of this, the young Lord Grandison, to whom had been entrusted the capture of the fort, had made no impression, after a valiant assault which lasted an hour and a half, and during which he lost twenty men. For a short time he was forced to desist, but, speedily returning to the attack, he discovered a ladder of the enemy by which he was able to mount; only to find that he could not get over the palisades. In his third assault Grandison was fatally wounded, and his men, utterly discouraged, left the attack. At this point Rupert sent word that Wentworth had entered the suburbs, upon which Grandison retired to have his wounds dressed, and ordered his men to join Bellasys on the left. Instead of obeying this order they began to retreat; but were met by Rupert himself who led them back to the enemy's works. It was then that Rupert's horse was shot under him and he strolled off on foot, with a coolness which immensely encouraged the men. Having, after a while, obtained a new horse, "he rode up and down from place to place, whereever most need was of his presence, here directing and encouraging some, and there leading up others. Generally it is confessed by the commanders that, had not the Prince been there, the assault, through mere despair, had been in danger to be given over in many places."[33]
On the other side Maurice was equally active. He had directed his men to take faggots to fill the ditches, and ladders to scale the forts, but in their haste to begin the attack, they had forgotten both. The scaling party had therefore failed and retired. During the retreat "Prince Maurice went from regiment to regiment, encouraging the soldiers, desiring the officers to keep their companies by their colours; telling them that he believed his brother had already made his entrance on the other side."[34] Retreats seem to have succeeded under Maurice, for we are told by one contemporary that he earned from his foes the name of "the good-come-off."[35] In a short time his assurance was justified; Rupert sent word that the suburbs were entered, and demanded a thousand Cornish men to aid his troops. Maurice sent over two hundred, but presently came across the river himself with five hundred more. By that time the fight was nearly over, and Fiennes sent to demand a parley. The demand was a welcome one, for the Cavaliers' losses had been very heavy, especially in officers. Among the fallen were Grandison, Slanning, Trevanion and many more of famous and honourable name.
At five o'clock on the evening of July 26th, terms were agreed on between Fiennes and the Princes; Lord Hertford not being consulted in the matter. Fiennes was to march out at nine o'clock next morning with all the honours of war, and to be protected by a convoy of Rupert's men. Contrary to all expectation and custom, he marched out next morning at seven o'clock, two hours before the time arranged. The convoy promised by Rupert was not ready, and the Royalist soldiers, remembering Puritan perfidy at Reading, attacked and plundered the retiring garrison. The fault was none of Rupert's, but for all that he keenly felt the breach of faith. "The Prince who uses to make good his word, not only in point of honour, but as a matter of religion too, was so passionately offended at this disorder that some of them felt how sharp his sword was," wrote one of his officers.[36] The Puritans would fain have used the incident to blacken the Prince's character; but Fiennes himself generously acquitted his conqueror of all blame. "I must do this right to the Princes," he said; "contrary to what I find in a printed pamphlet, they were so far from sitting on their horses, triumphing and rejoicing at these disorders, that they did ride among the plunderers with their swords, hacking and slashing them; and that Prince Rupert did excuse it to me in a very fair way, and with expressions as if he were much troubled at it."[37]
The unfortunate Fiennes was very severely censured for the loss of the city, which, it was maintained, was so strongly fortified that it should have been impregnable. The truth was that the garrison had been totally insufficient for the defence; but Fiennes remained under a cloud until later events justified him in the eyes of the Parliament.
Among the Royalists at Oxford the joy over this important success was marred by the dissensions of the victorious generals. The Princes had never been on cordial terms with Lord Hertford, the General of all the Western forces. Hertford was a constitutional Royalist, who served the King from a strict sense of duty, and from no love of war. He was of a grave, studious and peace-loving nature, and Maurice's appointment as his lieutenant-general had not brought satisfaction to either. Maurice had begun by despising Hertford for a "civilian". And Hertford had resented both the Prince's tendency to assume to himself "more than became a Lieutenant-General," and his interference in civil affairs which he did not understand. The arrival of Rupert on the scene did not make for peace. Maurice complained bitterly to Rupert, and the elder brother violently espoused the cause of the younger. The spark thus lighted flamed forth over the Governorship of Bristol.[38] Hertford, as said above, commanded all the Western Counties, and he considered, with some justice, that Rupert ought to have consulted him, before concluding the terms of surrender with Fiennes. In revenge for the slight put upon him, he appointed Sir Ralph Hopton Governor of Bristol, without a word on the subject to the Prince. Rupert, who considered the city won by his prowess as was in truth the case, was wildly indignant. He would not oppose another officer to the gallant Hopton, but he demanded the Governorship of the King for himself. The King, ignorant of Hertford's action, readily granted his nephew's request. Rupert then offered the post to Hopton as his lieutenant. Hopton, anxious for peace, willingly accepted the arrangement, and Hertford resented Hopton's compliance with the Prince as an injury to himself. The affair became a party question. The courtiers, "towards whom the Prince did not live with any condescension," sided with Hertford.[39] The King really believed his nephew's claims to be just; and the army vehemently supported its beloved Prince. Finally, the King was forced to come to Bristol in order to allay the storm which he had so unwittingly raised. On the flattering pretext of requiring Hertford's counsel and company in his own army, he detached him from that of the West; and on Rupert's suggestion he made Maurice a full general. The contending officers were silenced; but the breaches in the army were widened, and feeling embittered.[40]
The tactics to be next followed were hotly disputed. The Court faction was anxious to unite the two armies, but,—for other reasons than the important one that Maurice, in that case, could have been only a colonel,—Rupert prevailed against this counsel. Maurice was therefore ordered to march with foot and cannon after Lord Carnarvon, who was besieging Dorchester. It was said by the Court that, had Maurice marched more slowly, Carnarvon would have succeeded better. For Maurice "was thought to incline so wholly to the soldier, that he neglected any consideration of the country."[41] Fear of him roused the people of the country to active opposition. The licence of his soldiers—though admitted even by Clarendon to have been "reported greater than it was"—alienated the county, and Carnarvon took the Prince's conduct "so ill" that he threw up his commission and returned to Oxford.[42] Maurice thus left to labour alone, took Exeter and Weymouth, over the governorship of which he had a second quarrel with Hertford, who, though absent, was still nominally Lord Lieutenant of the western counties; on this occasion the King favoured Hertford, who triumphed accordingly. In October Maurice took Dartmouth, but effected little else of importance. Handicapped by a long and dangerous attack of influenza—"the new disease,"[43] it was called then—he besieged Lyme and Plymouth for months without success, and lost a good deal of reputation in the process.
In accordance with Rupert's scheme of campaign, the King should now have pushed on with the main army to London. But to render this plan successful it was necessary that Newcastle should sweep down from the North, and Maurice or Hopton, come to meet him from the West; the strength of local feeling prevented any such resolute and united action. Newcastle's northern troops would not leave their own counties exposed to hostile garrisons and hostile armies, in order to assist the King in a distant part of the country. In the same way the men of Cornwall and Devon refused to quit their own territory, and for the King to push on alone to London was absolutely useless. He was therefore forced to fall back on the old plan of conquering the country piecemeal, town by town, village by village; and accordingly, August 10th, he laid siege to Gloucester. Massey, then governor of Gloucester, had once served under Legge, and now sent word to him that he would surrender the city to the King, but not to Rupert. This message was the chief cause of the siege that followed; but Massey, either from inability or change of purpose, did not keep his engagement. Rupert held aloof from the siege altogether. No doubt he was disappointed at the rejection of his own more sweeping measures, and when he found that he would not even be allowed to assault the town, he declined to command at all. He could not, however, resist lingering about the trenches in a private capacity, and while so doing, had several very narrow escapes from shots and stones.[44]
After a fruitless siege the King was forced to retire before Essex, who advanced with a large force to the relief of Gloucester. On his way Essex surprised and took Cirencester; the King then moved after him, but—owing to his neglect of Rupert's warning, as the Prince's partisans asserted; or to Rupert's neglect of Byron's warning, as that officer declared—he was out-manoeuvred. Some confusion there certainly was. Rupert had mustered his troops on Broadway Down, but, though he waited till nightfall, he received no news from the King; and at last he set out in person to seek him. In the window of a farm-house he perceived a light, and, advancing cautiously, he looked in. There sat the King quietly playing at piquet with Lord Percy, while Lord Forth looked on. The Prince burst in upon them, crying indignantly that his men had been in the saddle for hours, and that Essex must be overtaken before he could join with Waller. Percy and Forth offered objections, but Rupert carried the day, and dashed off as impetuously as he had come, taking with him George Lisle and a regiment of musketeers. Marching night and day, "with indefatigable pains," he overtook and defeated Essex on Aldbourn Chase.[45] Essex retreated to Hungerford; but though defeated he was by no means crushed. He was still strong enough to fight, and, as his provisions were running short, his only hope lay in immediate victory. This Rupert knew, and for once in his life he preferred discretion to valour, and counselled passive resistance. If the King would be content to hold the roads between Essex and London, hunger and mutiny would speedily ruin the army of the Parliament. On September 20th, a part of the royal army occupied the road through the Kennet valley; Rupert with most of the cavalry held the road over Newbury Wash. But the lanes to the right were insufficiently secured, and Essex, spurred on by dire necessity, succeeded in gaining the slopes above the Kennet valley. Thus he commanded the whole position; and the first battle of Newbury proved the first great disaster for the Cavaliers. The surprised Royalists, seeing their enemies above them, charged up the hill to retrieve the ground, and the conflict raged long, with great loss. On the left, where Rupert lay, impatience proved nearly as fatal as neglect had done on the right. Instead of waiting to attack Essex's main army as it filed through the lanes, the Prince dashed off to the open ground of Enborne Heath, where Essex's reserves were strongly guarded by enclosures. There he charged and scattered some Parliamentary horse, but on the London trained bands he could make no impression, until the approach of some Royalist infantry caused them to retreat in good order. Whitelocke relates a personal encounter which took place between Rupert and Sir Philip Stapleton in this battle. This officer of the Parliament, "desiring to cope singly with the Prince, rode up, all alone, to the troop of horse, at the head of which Rupert was standing with Digby and some other officers. Sir Philip looked carefully from one to the other until his eyes rested upon Rupert, whom he knew; then he deliberately fired in the Prince's face. The shot took no effect, and Sir Philip, turning his horse, rode quietly back to his own men, followed by a volley of shots from the indignant Royalists.[46] For hours the fight continued; a series of isolated struggles took place in various fields, and when night fell the King's ammunition failed, and he retreated to Newbury, leaving Essex's way to London open. The advantage therefore was to the Parliament, though Essex could not claim a great victory. Also the King's loss had been immense, and among the fallen were Falkland, Sunderland, and the gallant Carnarvon. What could be done to retrieve the Royalist fortunes Rupert did. Rallying such men as were not utterly exhausted, he followed Essex closely, through the night,—surprised him, with some effect, and threw his rear into confusion. But, on September the 22nd, Essex entered Reading; and on the next day, Rupert returned with the King to Oxford.[47]
Rupert's star was paling, and his successes were well-nigh at an end. The King had hoped much from the Queen's coming and had begged her to reconcile Rupert with Percy, Wilmot and others. But Henrietta, once so kind to her nephew, now bitterly opposed him. She believed—or professed to believe—that he had formed a deliberate plan to destroy her influence with her husband. Perhaps the idea was not altogether without foundation; undoubtedly Rupert's common-sense showed him the folly of much of the Queen's conduct; and he was not the man to tolerate the interference of a woman in matters military. During the siege of Bristol, Henrietta had taken offence at what she considered Rupert's neglect of herself. "I hope your successes in arms will not make you forget your civility to ladies," Percy had written to the Prince. "This I say from a discourse the Queen made to me this night, wherein she told me she had not received one letter from you since you went, though you had writ many."[48] Percy's interference was not calculated to improve the state of affairs; and the siege of Gloucester excited Henrietta's jealousy yet more. She was eager for the advance on London, and she could not be made to understand that it was impossible, in existing circumstances. Rupert, as we have seen, was anxious for the very same thing, but he saw its impracticability and yielded to necessity. Because he so yielded, the Queen chose to consider him as the instigator of the siege of Gloucester, and she angrily declared that the King preferred his nephew's advice to that of his wife. Had he done so, it would but have shown his common-sense; but he hastened to Oxford to appease her indignation and soothe her jealousy as best he could. Then occurred the first open breach between Henrietta and Rupert. At this very juncture, three Puritan peers, Bedford, Clare, and Holland, had quitted the Parliament, and sought to be reconciled with the King. Henrietta received them with contempt. Rupert had more sense; he perceived the wisdom of conciliation, and brought the three peers to kiss his uncle's hand. The Queen's anger at this was loud and long; and henceforth the struggle of Prince versus Queen raged openly in Oxford.[49] The King was torn in two between them; he adored his wife, and he believed in his nephew. When actually at his uncle's side Rupert could usually gain a hearing, but once away, he had no security that the plan agreed upon but a few hours before would not be supplanted by some wild scheme emanating from the Queen, or from Digby.[50] At the Court the Queen's views were in the ascendant. Percy, Wilmot and Ashburnham threw in their lot with the Prince's enemies, and, as the two last had control of all supplies of ammunition and money respectively, Rupert experienced great difficulty in obtaining the barest necessities for his forces. Wilmot and Goring were able to raise a faction hostile to the Prince, within the army itself, and it was at this period that Arthur Trevor compared the "contrariety of opinions" to the contending elements. "The army is much divided," he wrote to Lord Ormonde, "and the Prince at true distance with many of the officers of horse; which hath much danger in it, out of this, that I find many gallant men willing to get governments and to sit down, or to get employments at large, and so be out of the way. In short, my lord, there must be a better understanding among our great horsemen, or else they may shortly shut the stable door."[51]
Rupert did not spare his indignation. He quarrelled freely with Percy, by letter. He left Digby's epistles unanswered,[52] and he slighted Wilmot. He accused the King of treating without his knowledge; which, said his distracted uncle, was a "damnable ley."[53] The truth was that the French Ambassador had proposed to ascertain what terms the Parliament might be likely to offer, and the King had consented to his so doing. Richmond hastened to explain matters to the Prince. "I should have told you before," he concluded, "but I forgot it; and but little knowledge is lost by it. It was ever my opinion that nothing would come of it, and so it remains still for anything I can hear, and I converse sometimes with good company."[54] But Rupert was not easily appeased; the supposed treaty was but one grievance among many, and ere long a letter from Digby had raised a new storm. The patient Duke as usual received his fiery cousin's complaints, and again took up his pen to pacify him. "Upon the receipt of your letter," he wrote, "perceiving that, from a hint taken of a letter from Lord Digby, you were in doubt that, in Oxford, there might be wrong judgments made of you and of your business, I made it my diligence to clear with the King, who answers the same for the Queen.... Considering the jealousy might have grown from some doubtful expressions in the letter you mention, I spoke with the party, (i.e. Digby) who seemed much grieved at it, and assured me he writ only the advice of such intelligence as was brought hither, and for information to make use of as you best could upon the place. Yesterday one brought me your commission to peruse.... I looked it well over, and I think it is well drawn."[55] The last sentence shows that Richmond did not confine his services to mediating between the Prince and his enemies, but watched over his cousin's more material interests with anxious care.
During all this time Rupert was not very far distant from Oxford. He had taken Bedford, and recaptured Cirencester, and would have held Newport Pagnell, thus cutting London off from the north; but during his absence in Bedfordshire, orders from Oxford drew off Louis Dyves whom he had left in charge at Newport Pagnell, and the place was seized by Essex. In the same way Vavasour's scheme for blockading Gloucester was ruined. "Sir, I am now in a good way, if no alteration come from Court,"[56] he wrote early in December. But the vexatious "alteration" came, and his plan failed. Hastings lamented that his lack of arms made "the service I ought to do the King very difficult;"[57] and everywhere despondency prevailed. "The truth is," wrote Ralph Hopton from Alresford, "the duty of this service here would be insupportable, were it not in this cause, where there is so great a necessity of prevailing through all difficulties, or of suffering them to prevail, which cannot be thought of in good English."[58]
Throughout the winter the usual mass of petitions, complaints, accusations, and remonstrances poured in upon the Prince. Among them, "Ye humble Remonstrance of Captain John Ball" deserves notice as a curiosity. This gentleman stated that he had, out of pure loyalty and with exceeding difficulty, raised 34 horses, 48 men, 12 carabines, 12 cases of pistols, 6 muskets, and 20 new saddles for the King's service. This done, he had gone to Oxford to obtain the King's commission to serve under Sir Henry Bard. During his absence, Sir Charles Blount, by order of Sir Jacob Astley then in command at Reading, had broken into his stables at Pangbourne and carried off both horses and equipments.[59] To this accusation old Sir Jacob responded with his wonted quaint directness: "As conserninge one yt calls himselfe Capne Balle, yt hath complayned unto yr Highnes yt I hav tacken awaie his horsses from him; this is the trewth. He hath livede near this towne ever since I came heather, and had gotten, not above, 12 men togeather, and himselfe. He had so plundered and oppressed the pepell, payinge contributions as the Marquess of Winchester and my Lord Hopton complayned extreamly of him. He went under my name, wtch he used falcesly, as givinge out he did it by my warrant. Off this he gott faierly, and so promised to give no more cause of complaynt. Now, ever since, he hath continewed his ould coures (courses), in soe extreame a waie, as he, and his wife, and his sone, and 10 or 12 horsses he hath, to geather spoyles the peepell, plunders them, and tackes violently their goodes from them."[60]
As a climax to all Rupert's other anxieties came the severe illness of Maurice, who was engaged at the siege of Plymouth. All the autumn he had been suffering from a low fever, which was in fact the modern influenza. So serious was his condition that his mother, in Holland, declined an invitation to the Court of Orange, on the grounds that she expected hourly to hear of Maurice's death.[61] More than once reports that he was actually dead gained credence, and the doctors who sent frequent bulletins to Rupert, would not answer for their patient's recovery, "by reason that the disease is very dangerous, and fraudulent." But by October 17th they were able to send a hopeful report. Maurice had slept better, the delirium had left him, and he had recognised Dr. Harvey—the discoverer of the circulation of the blood. When given the King's message of sympathy he had shown "an humble, thankful sense thereof." And on receiving Rupert's messages, "he seemed very glad to hear of and from your Highness."[62] A relapse was feared, but Maurice recovered steadily, though very slowly. In November he was anxious to join his forces before Plymouth, but had to give up the attempt, and the siege suffered from his absence. "Your brother resolved to have removed hence nearer towards Plymouth, upon Monday, but upon tryal finds himself too weak for the journey," wrote Sir Richard Cave, an old friend of the Palatines, to Rupert. "I dare boldly say that, had he been with the army, the army and the town had been at a nearer distance before now. Your brother presents his respects to your Highness, but says he is not able yet to write letters with his own hand."[63]
[1] Clar. State Papers, f. 2254. Prince Rupert's Journal in England. Jan. 6, 1643.
[2] Clarendon. Hist. Bk. VI. 238.
[3] Pamphlet. British Museum. Relation of the taking of Cirencester, Feb. 1642-3.
[4] Rupert Correspondence. Nicholas to the Prince, Feb. 3, 1643.
[5] Clar. State Papers. Rupert's Journal.
[6] Rupert Transcripts, April 1, 1643, also Warburton, II. p. 149.
[7] Pamphlet. British Museum. Prince Rupert's Burning Love to England discovered in Birmingham's flames.
[8] Letter from Walsall to Oxford. Warb. II. p. 154, note.
[9] Clar. State Papers. A character of Lord Digby.
[10] Warburton, II. p. 169.
[11] Rupert Transcripts. Aston to Rupert, 22 Jan. 1643; Pythouse Papers, p. 12.
[12] Ibid. Nicholas to Rupert, 21 April, 1643.
[13] Warburton, II. p. 179.
[14] Gardiner's Civil War, I. p. 130.
[15] Rupert Correspondence. See Warburton, II. 187.
[16] Pythouse Papers, p. 15.
[17] Rupert Correspondence. 18980. Nicholas to Prince, May 11, 1643. Warb. II. p. 189.
[18] His Highness's late Beating up of the Rebels' Quarters. Pamphlet. Bodleian Library.
[19] Warburton, II. 212. Essex to Rupert, June 22, 1643.
[20] Ibid. II. p. 390, note. Ellis Original Letters, Vol. IV.
[21] Marie de la Mothe, Countess d'Aulnoy. Memoirs of the Court of England, ed. 1707, pp. 397-400.
[22] Stafford Papers, ed. 1739, Vol. I. p. 359.
[23] Somers Tracts, V. pp. 473-7.
[24] Carte's Ormonde, VI. p. 277. O'Neil to Ormonde, 12 April, 1645. Clarendon, Bk. VIII. p. 369.
[25] Nicholas Papers. Camden Soc. 1 Jan. 1655. Vol. II. p. 158.
[26] Hatton Papers. Camden Society. New series, I. p. 42.
[27] Pythouse Papers, p. 57. Percy to Rupert, July 1643.
[28] Rupert Correspondence. Warburton, II. p. 226. Nicholas to the Prince, July 8, 1643.
[29] Clarendon Hist. Bk. VII. p. 121
[30] Journal of the Siege of Bristol. Warburton, II. p. 244.
[31] Journal of the Siege of Bristol. Warb. II. p. 246.
[32] Ibid. p. 247.
[33] Ibid. pp. 250-255.
[34] Journal of the Siege of Bristol. Warb. II. p. 258.
[35] Lloyd's Lives and Memoirs, ed. 1677, p. 656.
[36] Journal of Siege. Warburton, II. 262.
[37] A Relation made to the House of Commons by Colonel Nat. Fiennes, Aug. 5, 1643; see Warburton, II. p. 267, also Clarendon, Bk. VII.
[38] Clarendon Hist. 1849. Vol. III. pp. 121-126. Bk. VII. pp. 85, 98, 144-148; also Life, pp. 196-7, note.
[39] Clarendon Life. Vol. I. p. 195,
[40] Ibid.
[41] Clar. Hist. Bk. VII. pp. 98, 192.
[42] Clarendon History. Bk. VII. p. 192.
[43] Verney Memoirs. Vol. II. p. 171.
[44] Journal of the Siege of Gloucester. Warburton II. p. 282.
[45] Clarendon Hist. Bk. VII. 207.
[46] Whitelocke's Memorials, p. 74.
[47] Gardiner's Civil War, Vol. I. pp. 209-217.
[48] Percy to Rupert, July 29, 1643; Pythouse Papers, p. 55.
[49] Rupert's Diary. Warburton, II. p. 272.
[50] See Gardiner's Civil War, I. p. 345.
[51] Carte's Ormonde, Vol. V. pp. 520-1, 21 Nov. 1643.
[52] Rupert Transcripts. Jermyn to Rupert, 26 Mar. 1644.
[53] Ibid. King to Rupert, 12 Nov. 1643.
[54] Transcripts. Richmond to Rupert, 12 Oct. 1643.
[55] Rupert Transcripts. Richmond to Rupert, Nov. 9, 1643.
[56] Ibid. Vasavour to Rupert, Dec. 4, 1643.
[57] Pythouse Papers. Hastings to Nicholas, pp. 13-14.
[58] Hopton to Rupert, Dec. 12, 1643. Warb. II. p. 333.
[59] Add. MSS. 18981. Jan. 4, 1644.
[60] Transcripts. Astley to Rupert, Jan. 11, 1644; Warburton. II. p. 358.
[61] Green, Vol. VI. p. 137.
[62] Dr. Harvey and others to Rupert, Oct. 17, 1643; Warburton. II. p. 307.
[63] Rupert Transcripts. Cave to Rupert, Nov. 4, 1643.
CHAPTER VIII
THE PRESIDENCY OF WALES. THE RELIEF OF NEWARK.
QUARRELS AT COURT. NORTHERN MARCH.
MARSTON MOOR
Throughout the year 1643 the advantage in arms had lain decidedly with the King, and the Parliament now sought new strength in an alliance with the Scots. Such an alliance involved a strict adherence to Presbyterianism, which was naturally very distasteful to the Independents, who were growing steadily in strength and numbers. Therefore, though the entrance of the Scots into England in January 1644, brought a valuable accession of military force, it proportionately weakened the Puritan Party by increasing its internal dissensions. For a brief period the Independents sought alliance with those members of the Parliament and of the City, known as the Peace Party, and the result of this drawing together was a resolve to appeal privately to the King for some terms of agreement. The emissary employed in this secret negotiation was a certain Ogle, who had long been held a prisoner, but was now purposely suffered to escape. As an earnest of good faith, he was to assure the King that Colonel Mozley, brother of the Governor of Aylesbury, would admit the Royalists into that town. But Ogle was himself betrayed. Mozley had communicated all to the Presbyterian leaders of the Parliament. The whole plot was carefully watched, and plans laid to entrap Rupert himself. It was said that Essex boasted that he would have the Prince in London, alive or dead.
On the night of January 21st, Rupert set out to take possession of the offered town. The snow fell thick, but it did the Prince good service, for it prevented Essex falling upon him, as had been intended. Fortunately, also, Rupert was prudent, and declined to approach very near Aylesbury, until Mozley should appear on the scene in person. This he failed to do. Then the Prince wished to assault the town on the side where he was not expected, but the brook which ran before it was so swelled by the snow and sudden thaw, as to be impassable. Nothing remained but a speedy retreat, in which, owing to wind, snow and swollen streams, some four hundred men perished. In his fury Rupert would have hanged Ogle for a traitor, but the unfortunate man was rescued by the intercession of Digby. Probably the Secretary was moved as much by detestation of Rupert as by compassion for Ogle. There was soon a new causa belli between them.
In February Rupert was made a peer of the realm, as Duke of Cumberland and Earl of Holderness, in order that he might sit in the Royalist Parliament now called to Oxford. In the same month, it was proposed to make him President of Wales and the Marches, which appointment carried with it, not only military, but also fiscal and judicial powers, the right to levy taxes and to appoint Commissioners for the administration of the country. Digby had no mind to see his rival thus promoted, and he made the appointment the subject of a court intrigue. First he suggested that Ormonde would make a far better President than the Prince. But Ormonde could not possibly be spared from his Government of Ireland, and therefore Digby had to invent new delays and difficulties. "The business of the Presidency is at a standstill," wrote Rupert's faithful agent in Oxford, Arthur Trevor, "upon some doubts that my Lord Digby makes, which cannot be cleared to him without a sight of the patent which must be obtained from Ludlow."[1] The Prince seems to have been rather apathetic in the matter, for, in a few days, Trevor wrote again: "I am at a stand in your business, not receiving your commands... Persuasion avails little at Court, where always the orator convinces sooner than the argument. Let me beseech your Highness you will be so kind as to bestow what time you can spare from the public upon your private interests; which always thrive best when they are acted within the eye of the owner."[2] From Byron, then at Chester, came an anxious letter, demonstrating the great importance of Wales as a recruiting ground, and as the place whence communication with Ireland was easiest. The state of the Marches was exceedingly critical, and Byron pathetically begged Rupert not to refuse them the aid of his presence. "I have heard that means is used underhand to persuade your Highness not to accept the President's place of Wales; the end of which is apparent, for if your Highness refuse it, it will lessen the military part of your command, be a great prejudice to the country, and withal lose an opportunity of settling such a part of the country, converging upon Ireland, that is most likely to reduce the rest."[3] To the other despairing commanders in those districts the prospect of Rupert's coming was as welcome as to Byron, and, urged by their letters, Rupert resolved not to be turned from the work. Fortunately for himself he had staunch allies in Richmond, Nicholas, and above all, the Queen's favourite, Harry Jermyn. The last named was indeed all-powerful just then. "I find," wrote Trevor, alluding to the ciphers in which he corresponded, "not Prince Rupert, nor all the numbers in arithmetic have any efficacy without Lord Jermyn."[4] And Jermyn, strange to say, usually showed himself a good friend to Rupert. "My Lord Jermyn is, from the root of his heart, your very great servant," declared Trevor. Apparently, also, Jermyn had reconciled the Queen to her nephew, for, at the same time, Trevor informed Ormonde that he would speedily receive a request from the Queen "to be as kind as possibly your Lordship can unto Prince Rupert, especially in a present furnishment of some arms and powder."[5]
The appointment to Wales having been carried by his allies, Rupert was brought into very close connection with Ormonde. To Ireland the King looked for supplies of arms, ammunition, and of soldiers, as a counterpoise to the invasion of the Scots. The transport of these stores and troops was now regarded as part of Rupert's business in his new Government. He was willing enough to attend to the matter, for he was "mightily in love" with his Irish soldiers;[6] and, thanks to Ormonde's good sense and unswerving loyalty, a good understanding was preserved between himself and the Prince. Efforts to poison Ormonde's mind against Rupert were not wanting on the part of Digby. He did his best to make the Irish Lord Lieutenant think himself slighted by Rupert's preferment. "But let me withal assure you that I knew not of it till it was done," he wrote, "I being not so happy as to have any part in His Highness's Counsels."[7] To which the incorruptible Ormonde replied only, that he held himself in no way injured, and regarded the appointment as very fittingly bestowed on the Prince. Nor did Digby's new ally, Daniel O'Neil, meet with any better success. The Irish soldier of fortune had now quarrelled with Rupert, and thrown in his lot with that of the Secretary. Early in 1644 he was despatched to Ireland by Digby, in order to arrange various matters and, incidentally, to do Rupert as much harm as he could. But though introduced to Ormonde as Digby's "special, dear and intimate friend,"[8] he gained little credence. "I easily believe that Daniel O'Neil was willing I should be Lord Lieutenant; and perhaps he will unwish it again,"[9] said Ormonde calmly. No doubt Rupert owed much to the good sense and diligence of Trevor, who was himself a staunch adherent of Ormonde, and honoured by him with the title of "my friend." He seems to have been a clever man, of ready wit and unfailing energy, and he needed it all in his service of the Prince.
Rupert's new appointment involved the keeping up of an establishment at Shrewsbury, which he seldom occupied, but which added greatly to his expenses, and his personal labours were also multiplied. He had reached Shrewsbury on February 19th, having spent a week at Worcester and four days at Bridgnorth by the way. On March 4th he was "marching all night" to Drayton; on the 5th he was skirmishing with Fairfax; on the 6th he was "home" again; but only to resume his wanderings four days later.[10] He made it his business to visit every garrison under his charge, and his rapid movements were observed with pride by the Cavaliers. "In the morning in Leicestershire, in the afternoon in Lancashire, and the same day at supper time at Shrewsbury; without question he hath a flying army," reported the News-letters with cheerful exaggeration.[11] Certainly the Prince never spared himself, and he expected that others should show an equal energy and attention to business. Good officers, with other qualifications than mere social rank, he would have; and he allowed no private considerations to interfere with the public necessities. His vigorous decision did indeed bear hard on individual cases, as when he offered an unfortunate Herefordshire gentleman three alternatives,—to man and defend his house himself, to have it occupied by a governor and garrison of the Prince's own choosing, or to blow it up. But, if war is to be effective, such hardships are inevitable; and by Rupert's zealous activity garrisons were wrested from the enemy, and those of the King established, all over the district, in their stead. Of course the complaints which were daily delivered to the Prince were multiplied by his promotion; but, amidst all his labours, he seems to have found a little leisure, for he begged of Ormonde "a cast of goshawks," for his amusement in his winter quarters.[12]
In the meantime his agent at Oxford enjoyed no easy task. For everything that Rupert wanted Trevor had to contend vehemently with Percy and Ashburnham, and, had he not been clever enough to win the alliance of Jermyn, his success would have been small indeed. Jermyn exerted himself nobly. He collected evidence of Rupert's strength and necessities to lay before the Oxford Parliament. He supplied a consignment of muskets, pistols, and powder at his own expense;[13] he even combated the obstinacy of the King, though not always with success, as on one occasion he was forced to despatch supplies to Worcester, "where the King sayeth they are to go, and would have it so, in spite of everything that could be said to the contrary; though I did conceive it was your Highness's desire that they should be sent to Shrewsbury."[14]
Yet even Jermyn was occasionally disheartened by the Prince's insatiable wants. "His Majesty," wrote Trevor in February, "was very well pleased at your letter, and so was my Lord Jermyn, until he found your wants of arms, and ammunition. At which, after a deep sigh, he told me; 'This is of more trouble to me than it would be pain to me at parting of my flesh and bones.'" This despondency is partially accounted for by the next sentence; "The petards I cannot now send Your Highness, by reason of a strong quarrel that is fallen out between M. La Roche and Lord Percy, whose warrant and orders he absolutely denies to obey. Where it will end I know not. It begins in fire."[15] This state of affairs must have lasted for weeks. Not until April did Trevor wring two petards from Lord Percy, "and now I have got them, I do not, for my life, know how to send them to your quarters," he declared. And La Roche seems to have been, even then, in the same impracticable frame of mind: "Your Highness's letters to M. La Roche I did deliver; and when he had sworn and stared very sufficiently, and concluded every point with, 'Noe money! noe money!'—he carried me to his little house by Magdalen, and when he had swaggered there a pretty time, and knocked one strange thing against another, he told me he would send me letters, wherewith I was well satisfied, not having money for him, without which I see he hath no more motion than a stone. He talks much of Captain Faussett, but whether good, bad, or indifferent, I swear I do not know!"[16]
Such were the contentions that delayed and handicapped the Royalist forces; but Arthur Trevor was not to be discouraged. "Until I have all the affairs, both of peace and war, settled as they may be most to your desires, I will not miss His Majesty an interview every morning in the garden,"[17] he protested; and, on a later occasion, he declared: "I am not so ill a courtier, in a request of money, as to sit down with one denial."[18] His difficulties were increased by the carelessness of Rupert himself, and he wrote to the Prince reproachfully: "I find a bill of exchange signed by Your Highness, and denied by the party you charged it on, and grown to be the discourse of the town before ever I heard a syllable of it. Truly the giving out that bill without giving me advice of it, that I might have got the money ready, or an excuse for time, hath not done Your Highness right here."[19] Two days later he wrote again: "The liveries for your servants are now come. I only wait for your orders how I shall carry myself towards the merchants, who are very solicitous for ready pay. The sum will be about £200. If Your Highness will not have His Majesty moved in it, Lord Jermyn and I will try all the town, but we will do the worth."[20] Rupert's answer is not forthcoming, but he was evidently as anxious as usual to pay this, or other debts, for he commissioned Trevor to represent to the King the "injustice" that the delay of money was doing towards men to whom he was indebted, and whom he would willingly satisfy.[21]
The needs of the North were becoming very pressing. Newcastle constantly represented the smallness of his forces, and the danger threatening from the Scots. Sir Charles Lucas also forwarded a melancholy account of the northern army, and Lord Derby implored Rupert to go to the rescue of his Countess who was valiantly defending Lathom House: "Sir, I have received many advertisements from my wife, of her great distress and imminent danger," he wrote, "unless she be relieved by your Highness, on whom she doth rely more than on any other whatsoever... I would have waited on your Highness this time, but that I hourly receive little letters from her who haply, a few days hence, may never write me more."[22] But greatest of all was the danger of Newark, besieged by Meldrum, Hubbard and Lord Willoughby. Already the brave little garrison was almost starved into surrender, and willingly would the men have sacrificed their lives in one desperate sally, but for the women and children who would thus have been left to the mercy of the foe. Rupert resolved to go first to the relief of Newark. But even Arthur Trevor could not obtain the supplies necessary for the exploit: "I can promise nothing towards your advantage in those supporters of war, money and arms..." he said. "Money, I am out of hopes of, unless some notable success open the purse strings ... March, and then I will make my last attempt for that business, and if I fail I will raise my siege, burn my hut, and march away to your Highness."[23]