The first prize taken in the Straits was a Genoese vessel, bound for a Spanish port, which was taken, partly in reprisal for the stealing of one of Rupert's caravels by the Genoese, and partly because the sailors clamoured for her capture. A Spanish galleon was next taken, and her crew put on shore, after which Rupert made for Madeira. This island was possessed by the Portuguese, and the Princes were received with all kindness. The Governor, with all his officers, came on board the Admiral, and the Princes afterwards paid a return visit to the fort, when they were courteously received, and "accompanied to the sight of all that was worthy seeing on the island."[17]
Rupert's secret intention was to make for the West Indies, but no sooner did his mind become known, than the plan was vehemently opposed by most of his officers. The true cause of their opposition was the belief that the idea had originated with Fearnes, the captain of the Admiral, who seems to have been very unpopular with the rest of the fleet. So high did the dissension run that Rupert felt himself compelled to call a council, the members of which, with two exceptions, voted to make for the Azores, alleging that the Admiral, which had lately sprung a leak, was unfit for the long voyage to the West Indies. Moved by his new-born anxiety to avoid the charges of "self-will and rashness," Rupert yielded to the voices of the majority, against his better judgment. To the Azores they went, and, as the Prince expected, disaster followed.[18] No prizes were taken, there was found no convenient harbour where the Admiral's leak might be stopped, and so bad was the weather that, for long, the ships could not approach the shores to get provisions. When, at last, they made the island of St. Michael—also a Portuguese possession—they were as well received as they had been at Madeira, and here also the Governor conducted the Princes "to all the monasteries and place of note."[19] Next Rupert stood for Terceira, but the Governor of that island belonged to the faction which had opposed the Royalists at Lisbon, and showed himself unfriendly. Still, he permitted Rupert to purchase wine and meat, and, the bargain arranged, the fleet returned to St. Michael. On the way the Admiral sprang a new leak, which could not be found, nor was there any harbour where she could be safely unloaded that it might be discovered. Rupert again proposed the voyage to the West Indies, but the suggestion nearly produced a mutiny, which the Prince only quashed by promptly breaking up the meetings of the disaffected.
While affairs were in this state, and the supply of provisions yet uncompleted, stormy weather drove the ships out to sea. The leak in the Admiral increased rapidly, and her boat, which was too large to be hoisted in, was washed away from her. On the same day, the Vice-Admiral, attempting to hoist in her own boat, sunk it at her side. The storm raged without abatement for three days, at the end of which the Admiral's condition was hopeless. By continually firing her guns she had contrived to keep the other ships near her, and by constant pumping the disaster had been deferred. But on the third morning, September 30th, 1651, at 3 a.m., the ship sprang a plank, and though a hundred and twenty pieces of raw beef were trodden down between the timbers, and planks nailed over them, it was without avail. The sails were blown away, and by ten o'clock of the same morning, the water was rushing in so fast that the men could not stand in the hold to bale. In this desperate condition, the whole crew behaved with real heroism. Having thrown the guns overboard, in the vain endeavour to lighten the ship, they resigned all hope, and resolved to die together. The storm was so violent that none of the other ships dared to approach the Admiral, lest they should perish with her. Once the "Honest Seaman" ran across her bowsprit, in the hope that some of the crew might save themselves on her, but none made the attempt. Rupert then signalled Maurice to come under his stern, that he might speak his last words to him. Approaching as near as possible, the two Princes tried to shout to one another, "but the hideous noise of the seas and winds over-noised their voices."[20] Maurice, frantic with distress, declared that he would save his brother or perish; but his captain and officers, less ready to sacrifice their lives, "in mutinous words" refused to lay their ship alongside the Admiral. Seeing his orders given in vain, Maurice next tried to send out a little boat which he had on board, but, though his men feigned to obey him, they delayed, as long as possible, getting the boat ready. "The Captain of the Vice-Admiral cannot be excused," says an indignant letter, "for when he saw the ship perishing he made no action at all for their boat to help to save the men, but walked upon the deck, saying: 'Gentlemen, it is a great mischance, but who can help it?' And the master never brought the ship near the perishing ship, notwithstanding Prince Maurice's commands, and his earnestness to have it done."[21]
At last it occurred to the crew of the Admiral that their Prince, at least, might be saved in their one small boat, and they "beseeched His Highness" to make use of it. But of this Rupert would not hear. He thanked the men for their affection to him, and declined to leave them, saying that they had long shared his fortunes, and he would now share theirs. Then they represented to him that, supposing he could get on board another ship,—a very remote chance in such a sea,—he might, by his authority, cause something to be done to save the rest of them. Seeing that he still hesitated, they wasted no more time in parley, but promptly overpowered him, and placed him forcibly in the boat, "desiring him, at parting, to remember they died his true servants."[22] By a miraculous chance, as it seemed then, the little boat reached the "Honest Seaman" in safety, and, having put the Prince on board her, returned at once to rescue some others. Only Captain Fearnes accepted the offered rescue. M. Mortaigne, whom Rupert especially entreated to come to him, preferred to die with the rest, and after this second journey, the little skiff sank. Rupert, now as frantic as Maurice had been before, ordered the "Honest Seaman" to run towards the Admiral, and enter the men on her bowsprit. The Captain obeyed to his best ability, but could not accomplish his aim, because the Admiral, having lost her last sail, and being heavy with water, could not stir. The gallant crew signalled their farewells to their Prince, and were then invited by their Chaplain, who had remained with them, to receive the Holy Communion. For some hours longer the ship remained above water, but at nine o'clock at night she sank with all on board, the crew burning two fire-pikes as a last farewell to their Admiral.
Rupert, for once in his life, was utterly crushed by the weight of misfortune. He was taken next day into his brother's ship, and there he remained for some time, "overladen with the grief of so inestimable a loss", and leaving everything to the care and management of Maurice. The loss of the treasure on board the Admiral had been enormous, amounting to almost the whole of the year's gains; but, wrote Rupert to Herbert, "it was not the greatest loss to me!"[23] Of the Prince's own enforced rescue we have three separate accounts. "The Prince was unwilling to leave us, and resolved to die with us," reported the Captain.[24] And says another writer: "His Highness would certainly have perished with them, if some of his officers, more careful of his preservation than himself, had not forced him into a small boat and carried him on board the 'Honest Seaman.'"[25] It is also noted in the common-place book of one Symonds, a manuscript now preserved in the British Museum: "It is very remarkable of Prince Rupert that, his ship having sprung a plank in the midst of the sea.... he seemed not ready to enter the boat for safety, nor did intend it. They all, about sixty, besought him to save himself, and to take some of them with him in the boat to row him; telling him that he was destined and appointed for greater matters."[26]
Misfortunes, as usual, did not come singly. Making for Fayal, with Maurice still in command, the "Swallow" and the "Honest Seaman" fell in with the other three ships, from which they had been separated, but only in time to witness the wreck of the "Loyal Subject." This time the Portuguese were far less friendly than before. Apparently they feared lest the English should appropriate a Spanish vessel which had just surrendered at Pico, and when Maurice sent to offer his assistance, they fired upon his envoys. Maurice's officer insisted upon landing and was promptly arrested, without a hearing. The "Honest Seaman" and the "Revenge" thereupon fired on the Portuguese, but without effect, and the whole fleet stood away to Fayal, where they found that the officers whom they had left on shore to secure supplies, had also been arrested. The necessity for action roused Rupert from his melancholy. He guessed that the changed attitude of the Governors must be due to a peace made between Portugal and the English Commonwealth, and saw that he must act with decision. He therefore sent to the Governor of Fayal, saying that Prince Rupert was in his harbour, on board the "Swallow," and that unless his men were at once released, and things placed on the former friendly footing, he would free his men by force, and would also write to the King of Portugal "a particular of the affronts he had received." Evidently Rupert was a much more awe-inspiring person than Maurice, for the Governor, terrified by the unexpected discovery of his presence, at once released his prisoners, and permitted the Princes to take in their stores unmolested.[27]
Rupert was determined now to go to the West Indies, and, in order to prevent factious opposition, he sent his secretary on board each ship in turn to require the opinion of each officer, in writing, as to what it would be best to do. By this device all collusion was prevented, and consequently the majority decided with the Prince, for the West Indies. The only two dissentients were the Captain and Master of the Vice-Admiral, who had behaved so badly at the wreck of the Admiral. These two were for going to the mouth of the Channel to take prizes. But their advice was generally scouted, as it was evident to all that the ships could not live in the northern seas. The dissentient Captain thereupon quitted the fleet, "pretending a quarrel he had with Captain Fearnes,"[28] and Rupert willingly let him go.
Distrusting the Portuguese in the Azores, the Princes sailed towards the Canary Islands, hoping to meet with prizes from which they might obtain new rigging and other necessities, for all the ships were in a terribly damaged condition. Stress of weather forced them to put in at Cape Blanco, in Arguin, on the coast of Africa, where, finding a good harbour, they resolved to refit. A Dutch vessel, which had also taken refuge there, supplied them with pilots, and with planks and other necessaries for the repair of their ships. Having obtained these things, they set up tents on land, in which they stored their cargoes, while they brought the ships aground.
The repairs involved a considerable delay, and Rupert wished to employ the time in procuring new provisions. Fish was to be found in great abundance, but no cattle could be purchased on account of the timidity of the natives, who fled at the approach of Europeans. This timidity was exceedingly annoying to Rupert, and on January 1st, 1651, he marched inland with a hundred men, being resolved to get speech with the natives. A fog favoured him, so that he came upon an encampment before the people were aware of his neighbourhood. Nevertheless no sooner did they see him than they took to flight, leaving behind them their tents, and their flocks of sheep and goats. In a final attempt to detain them Rupert shot a camel, but the act naturally did not reassure them, and the rider mounted another and fled, "but for haste left a man-child behind, which by fortune was guided to His Highness, as a New Year's gift. The poor infant, embracing his legs very fast, took him for his own parent."[29] Child and flocks being carefully secured, Rupert marched on after the natives, dividing his men into small companies, that they might appear the less alarming. This plan succeeded so far that at length two natives came back with a flag of truce, desiring to treat for the recovery of the child and the sheep. To this the Prince readily consented; whereupon the men promised to come to him in two days' time, and he returned to his fleet.
According to promise, the African envoys appeared on the shore, Jan. 3rd, and desired a hostage. Rupert, doubtful of their good faith, refused to order any man to risk his life; but one volunteered, and was allowed to go. Then the Africans, making no offers of trading with the Prince, demanded the child's surrender, "expressing great sorrow for the loss thereof." This increased Rupert's suspicions, and he ordered his men to keep well within their own lines. One sailor, disobeying, went out upon the cliff, and was immediately killed by the natives, who, having thus broken truce, killed their hostage also, and fled. Rupert pursued in great fury, but without being able to overtake them. A second expedition, led by Robert Holmes, had no better result, and the child remained in Rupert's possession.[30] In 1653, "an African lad of five "is mentioned by one of Cromwell's spies, as "part of the prey the Prince brought over seas;"[31] and reference is made to "the little nigger"[32] in several of Robert Holmes's letters to Rupert.
The Dutch vessel from which the Prince had obtained his planks, now sent him supplies of water from the Island of Arguin, and seeing her thus well-disposed, he chartered her to carry his prize cargo of ginger and sugar to France. He also took the opportunity of sending a brief account of his adventures and misfortunes to the King, and to Sir Edward Herbert. The copy of his letter to Charles II is headed: "What our ship's company desired me to say to the King," and is as follows.
"Sire,—By several ways I have given your Majesty a general account of our good and bad fortunes, since we left Toulon, but fearing some, if not all, may have had worse fortune than I am confident this will, I have made a more particular relation to Sir Edward Herbert of both, to which I could add more particulars to shew your Majesty how I have been hindered in a design to do your Majesty eminent service, but, Sire, I shall leave this until I have the happiness to be nearer your Majesty. In the meantime I have sent an order on Mr. Carteret, with some goods, to pay the debts of your Majesty I made at Toulon, and some others, which belong to me, my brother, and the seamen, the proceed of which I have ordered to be put into Sir Edward Herbert's hands for yourself, or your brother's necessities; be pleased to command what you will of it. In such a case, I dare say, there will be none among us will grumble at it. All I humbly beg is that Sir Edward Herbert may receive your Majesty's commands by word of mouth, or under your own hand, and that your Majesty be pleased to look upon us, as having undergone some hazards equal with others. Had it pleased God to preserve the 'Constant Reformation' (the Admiral), I had loaded this vessel with better goods."[33]
To Herbert the Prince wrote at greater length, giving an account of the wreck of the Admiral, and of the factious opposition he had encountered among his officers. He explained also that the shares of each man in the prizes taken had been adjudged by the chaplain, Dr. Hart, and he concluded: "If His Majesty or the Duke of York be in necessity themselves, pray dispose of all to what they have need of, for their own use; I mean after the debts I made at Toulon for the fleet are satisfied. I wrote word so to His Majesty."[34] Some eight years later, at the Restoration, those debts which weighed so heavily on Rupert's conscience were still unpaid, and the fact is worth remembering in connection with the quarrel that the Prince had with the King on his return to France.
The cargo being despatched and the ships repaired, the Princes made for the Cape Verd Islands, where they took in water and "one thousand dried goats."[35] From there they went to Santiago, which they found inhabited chiefly by negroes. There was, however, a Portuguese Governor, Don Jorge de Mesquita de Castello Baranquo, who overwhelmed them with attentions, and presents of fruit. Rupert returned his civilities with such presents as his cargo afforded, and wrote to the King of Portugal gratefully acknowledging the kindness of Don Jorge. The letter bears date March 2nd, 1652.[36] When the Princes had been some days in the harbour, Don Jorge informed them that certain English vessels, bound for Guinea, were at anchor in the River Gambia, and offered pilots to take the Royalists up the river. This offer Rupert eagerly accepted, but the pilots proved inefficient, and mistook the channel, forcing the "Swallow," now the Admiral, to anchor in very shallow water. Rupert went out in his boat to sound for the channel, and while thus occupied, came upon a ship belonging to the Duke of Courland, on the Baltic. The Courlanders at once told the Prince the whereabouts of the English vessels, and offered to pilot him up to them. With their help, the Admiral weighed anchor, found the channel, and captured an English ship, the "John." On board this ship was a negro interpreter, known as Captain Jacus, and the son of the Governor of Portodale. To these two Rupert showed much kindness, freely giving them their liberty, an action for which he soon reaped an ample reward. That night Rupert's fleet anchored by the Courlander, which continued professions of friendship and offers of aid, for which the Prince returned grateful thanks.
On the following morning, Rupert took a Spaniard, but failed to get into the tributary of the Gambia, where lay an English ship. With the next tide Maurice succeeded in getting in, and as soon as it was light, began the attack. The Englishman quickly surrendered, on a promise of quarter, and freedom for the Captain. Then, too late, the crew remembered that no terms had been made for the merchant whom they had on board. A dispute arose as to the fairness of the agreement already made, and Maurice, in true sporting spirit, offered to free the captured ship, and fight it out over again;[37] but the English crew, declining the quixotic offer, accepted his former terms, and Maurice boarded them, still in exuberant spirits. "See what friends you have of these Portugals!" he cried in youthful triumph. "But for them we should never have come hither and taken you."[38] Altogether three English ships, the "Friendship," the "John," and the "Marmaduke," had been captured in the river, besides the Spaniard. Rupert distributed the crews of the prizes among his own ships, and Maurice, re-naming the largest of the prizes, the "Defiance," made her the Vice-Admiral.
The natives of the country, thinking to please Rupert, and anxious, possibly, to gratify old grudges, murdered several sailors of the Parliament who had landed. But Rupert, "abhorring to countenance infidels in the shedding of Christian blood," took care to intimate his deep displeasure.[39] Thereupon the brother and son of the native King came to visit him. He received them with all due courtesy, offering them chairs to sit upon, which, however, they gravely declined, saying that only their King was worthy of such an honour.
But notwithstanding the friendly disposition of the natives Rupert could not prolong his stay in the river. The time of the tornadoes—May to July—was drawing near, and preparation was necessary. The Princes therefore broke up their Spanish prize, as unfit for service, bequeathed her guns to the Courlanders, and sailed for the Cape de Verd Islands. By the way some of their ships were missed, and they anchored on the coast to await them. During the delay, the natives stole away one of Maurice's sailors, and Maurice, finding fair words unavailing, sent a force, under Holmes, to recover him. The two boats, in which Holmes and his men were embarked, were overturned in the surf, and lost at their landing, but happily, the liberated negro, Jacus, came to their help with a party of his friends. Then Maurice sent a third boat to bring his men back, but with orders not to land unless Jacus advised it. Holmes and his force were safely re-embarked, when the captain of the boat, mistaking Maurice's orders, declared that they were to take Jacus back with them. On hearing this, Holmes went once more on shore, to speak to Jacus, and, during the delay involved, the hostile negroes began to attack the crew. The sailors shot a negro, and captured one of their canoes, which so incensed the rest that they seized upon Holmes and another man who had accompanied him. The men in Maurice's boat saw themselves outnumbered, and returned in all haste to their ship, with the bad news. Both Princes were "extremely moved," and, swearing that they would rescue their comrades or perish in the attempt, they went ashore to treat with the natives. The negroes declared, through Jacus, that they would release Holmes if their canoe were returned, and the men in her set at liberty. Rupert at once signalled to the Vice-Admiral to free the canoe, but no sooner was it done than Jacus came running down to the shore, with the news that his countrymen intended treachery, and would not release their prisoners. It proved too late to re-take the canoe, but the Prince fired on the natives, who were gathering round him, and signalled all his ships to send men to his aid. The natives fought with much courage; and Rupert himself was wounded by a poisoned arrow, which he instantly cut out with his knife. While he engaged the attention of the hostile negroes, Jacus and his friends contrived to free Holmes and his comrade, and to embark them safely in Maurice's pinnace. This done, the Princes retreated to their fleet; but they did not show themselves ungrateful to Jacus, "whose fidelity," says one of the crew, "may teach us that heathens are not void of moral honesty." On the day following, Rupert sent his thanks, and an offer to take Jacus with him and "to reward him for his faith and pains." But Jacus, wishing the Princes all good luck, declined their offer; he was, he said, not in the least afraid to remain with his own tribe.[40]
The missing ships being come up, the Princes continued their voyage towards the Cape Verd Islands, taking a large English prize on the way. Two smaller English vessels were captured by the "Revenge" at Mayo, and Maurice took a Dane, but was promptly ordered to release her, by his brother. Then most of the ships went with Maurice to St. Iago, taking a present of 900 hides out of the spoil, to the Governor; the Admiral and the "Revenge" went on to Sal. The "Revenge," as it happened, was largely manned by the sailors taken in the prizes. These men, being naturally disaffected to the Princes, overpowered their officers in the night, and stole away to England. They reached home in safety, and were able to give a very edifying account of Rupert and his crews to the Parliament: "For their delight is in cursing and swearing, and plundering and sinking, and despoiling all English ships they can lay their talons on." Still the report of the Royalists' condition must have been very encouraging to their enemies. "The 'Swallow' and the 'Honest Seaman' were so leaky that they had to pump day and night, and consequently cannot keep long at sea. They had not above three weeks' bread, and nothing but water, at the time when they took the three ships in the River Gambia," said the escaped prisoners.[41] Rupert, on missing the "Revenge," guessed what had happened, but he touched at Mayo to ask if she had been sighted. His presence there so terrified a Spanish crew that they landed all their cargo, which was at once seized by the Portuguese. Rupert then returned to Santiago, where he took in water and provisions, bestowed the hulk of a prize on "the Religious people of the Charity," made "a handsome present to the Governor, in acknowledgment of his civilities," and took a final leave of the Island.[42]
The Princes were now fairly on their way to the West Indies; but, near Barbadoes, the Admiral sprang a leak, and had to put into Santa Lucia, in the Caribbees, the men "being almost spent with extreme labour."[43] Four days later, the leak being stopped, they proceeded towards St. Martinique, meeting on the way some Dutch men-of-war, with the officers of which they exchanged visits and civilities. The French Governor of St. Martinique proved very hospitable, and, moreover, sent the Princes a timely warning that all the English possessions in the West Indies had surrendered to the Parliament. Having returned grateful thanks for this information, the Royalists proceeded to San Dominique, where the natives brought them fruit, in exchange for glass beads. On the day before Whit Sunday they reached Montserrat, where they seized two small ships, but one, proving to be the property of Royalists, was released. At Nevis they found a large number of English vessels, which, like a flock of frightened animals, "began to shift for themselves," some endeavouring to escape, and others running ashore.[44] A brief engagement took place, in which Rupert's secretary was shot down at his side, but no prizes could be taken, because the enemy's vessels were so fast aground that they could not be brought off.
After a brief visit to La Bastare, the Princes went to the Virgin Islands, intending to unload and careen the Admiral, and on the way thither, they added to their numbers by purchasing from a Dutch man-of-war a prize she had taken. They had hoped to find cassava roots in the islands, but these proved scarce, and consequently they suffered greatly from want of food. Rupert was even forced to reduce his men's rations, but, seeing that their Princes shared equally with them in all hardships, the sailors bore the privation with cheerful courage. The scarcity of food caused them to leave the Virgins as soon as the leaky ships were repatched, and, having burnt three small prizes as unseaworthy, they sailed southwards.
Now came the crowning misfortune of the unhappy Prince who had been so long "kept waking with new troubles."[45] Not far from Anguilla the fleet was caught in a most terrible hurricane. So strong was the wind that the men could not stand at their work; so thick the weather that no one could see more than a few yards before him. For two days the ships ran before the wind, the Admiral escaping wreckage on the rocks of Angadas by a miracle. On the third day the hurricane abated, and the Admiral found herself alone at the uninhabited island of St. Ann, in the Virgins; the "Honest Seaman" had been cast ashore at Porto Rico, and the Vice-Admiral had totally disappeared. "In this fatal wreck," says Pyne, "besides a great many brave gentlemen and others, the sea, to glut itself, swallowed Prince Maurice, whose fame the mouth of detraction cannot blast; his very enemies bewailing his loss. Many had more power, few more merit. He was snatched from us in obscurity, lest beholding his loss would have prevented others from endeavouring their own safety; so much he lived beloved and died bewailed."[46] Rupert's grief was beyond words. He had lost the only member of his family to whom he was bound by close ties of affection, the most faithful and devoted of his followers, his favourite companion, his best-loved friend. From the very first he accepted the situation as hopeless, and he bore his sorrow in grim silence, not suffering it to crush him as his grief for the loss of the "Constant Reformation" had done. There was no Maurice now to fall back upon, and the needs of the ship could not be neglected. Alas, one ship, the "Swallow," was all that remained of the gallant little fleet, and Rupert, finding himself thus alone, resolved to return to France. First he paid a farewell visit to Guadeloupe, where he was kindly received, and supplied with wine. There also he took an English prize, naively likened by the writer of his log to "Manna from Heaven."[47] But well might the crew rejoice at the capture, seeing that their rations were now reduced to three ounces per diem. Touching at the Azores, they were surprised to be received with bullets, and not suffered to approach within speaking distance of the land. Rupert therefore sailed straight for Brittany, stopping at Cape Finisterre for fresh provisions. His health was completely broken down, and the food on board both scarce and nasty, and we read: "His Highness had not been very well since he came from the West Indies, and fresh provisions being a rarity, a present of two hens and a few eggs was very acceptable."[48]
But the Prince was nearing the end of his hardships, if not of his troubles. Early one morning in the March of 1653, he came into the Loire and anchored at St. Lazar. The next day, in attempting to get higher up the river, he ran his ship aground. The crew were anxious to leave her to her fate, but Rupert had not come through so many difficulties only to succumb to the last, and by his "industry and care" he brought her safely off. Having secured his prizes, he sent the "Swallow" back to the mouth of the river to refit. "Here, however, like a grateful servant, having brought her princely master through so many dangers, she consumed herself, scorning, after being quitted by him, that any inferior person should command her."[49]
Thus closed the most singular episode in a much chequered career. The morality of Rupert's proceedings during his three years' wanderings on the high seas has been much debated. In theory he was a loyal Admiral holding his own against a rebel fleet, but in fact, it must be owned, he was little more than a pirate, or at best, a privateer. He was never able to meet the fleet of the Parliament in battle, and could only wage war by crippling the trade of the hostile party. Moreover, though his desire to injure the trade of the enemy was both earnest and sincere, he was still more anxious to gain merchandise, by the sale of which he could support his destitute sovereign and his fleet. Yet he kept within the limits he had set himself, and made prizes only of ships belonging to adherents of the Commonwealth or to its Spanish allies. The capture of a Genoese vessel has been admitted, but that was in the nature of a reprisal, and it has been seen how a Danish and a Royalist ship taken by mistake were set free. That the Prince endured hardship, difficulties and dangers out of a loyal devotion to his cousin, is shown by the readiness with which he renounced his private share of the spoil in Charles's favour, when he sent home the cargo of 1652. The devotion evidently felt for him by his crew speaks well for his character as a commander, and all his recorded dealings with the natives of Africa and the various islands, show a humane and enlightened spirit in which there is nothing of the buccanneer. Indeed the various logs which bear record of his voyages are marked by a tone of great decorum. In them the chaplain figures frequently, and on one occasion it is noted, "The second day being Sunday, we rode still, and did the duties of the day in the best manner that we could; the same at evening."[50] And even granting that the decorous tone of the logs is forced and exaggerated of set purpose, the fact remains that no specific charge of cruelty was ever brought against the Prince by his enemies or any one else. This, when it is remembered how lawless were the high seas in those days, is no slight praise. But, whatever may be thought of the ethics of the case, it will be universally acknowledged that to keep the seas as Rupert kept them for three years, with no previous experience in nautical affairs, with never more than seven, and usually only three ships at his command, with those ships hopelessly leaky and rotten, and continually beset by every possible form of danger and disaster, was a feat deserving of wonder and admiration.
[1] Clarendon State Papers. Hyde to Rupert, Oct. 19, 1650.
[2] Cary's Memorials, Vol. II. p. 164.
[3] Warburton, III. p. 306, note.
[4] Ibid. p. 303.
[5] Warburton, III. pp. 304-305. Whitelocke, 458. Thurloe's State Papers, I. 145-146.
[6] Thurloe, I. 141. Dom. State Papers. Commonweath, IX. fol. 38.
[7] Warburton. III. pp. 306, 310.
[8] Ibid pp. 310-312. Add. MSS. 18982 f. 210.
[9] Warburton, III. p. 313.
[10] Hist. MSS. Com. Rept 14. Portland MSS. Vol. I. p. 548. 26 Dec. 1650.
[11] Warburton, III. p. 318.
[12] Ibid. 320.
[13] Warburton, III. 320.
[14] Ibid. p. 321.
[15] Letters, II. p. 3. 14 May, 1651.
[16] Nicholas Papers, I. 249. May 1651.
[17] Warburton, III. p. 325.
[18] Warburton, III. p. 327.
[19] Ibid. p. 329.
[20] Warburton, III. p. 334.
[21] Ibid. pp. 533-535. Pitts to —. No date.
[22] Warburton, III. p. 335.
[23] Warburton, III. p. 349.
[24] Rupert Transcripts. Captain Fearnes' Relation.
[25] Warburton, III. p. 540.
[26] Harleian MSS. 991.
[27] Warburton, III. p. 340.
[28] Ibid. p. 537, Pitts to —. No date.
[29] Warburton, III. p. 345.
[30] Warburton, III. pp. 346-7.
[31] Thurloe State Papers, II. 405.
[32] Rupert Transcripts. Holmes to Rupert, May 3 and 19, 1653.
[33] Warburton, III. p. 348.
[34] Ibid. p. 349. This letter is supposed by Warburton to be written to Hyde, but it is without address; and the three references of Rupert to Herbert in the letter to the King seem to imply that the accompanying letter was intended for Herbert, and not Hyde.
[35] Warburton, III. p. 541, Feb. 1st 1652.
[36] Ibid. p. 366.
[37] Warburton. III. p. 359.
[38] Domestic State Papers. Commonwealth, 41. fol. 34. 8 Oct. 1653. Report of Walker.
[39] Warburton, III. p. 360.
[40] Warburton, III. pp. 363-367.
[41] Domestic State Papers. Commonwealth. Vol. XXIV. f. 60. June (?), 1652. Coxon's Report.
[42] Warburton, III. p. 370.
[43] Ibid. p. 371.
[44] Ibid. p. 376.
[45] Warburton, III. p. 337.
[46] Warburton, III. p. 382.
[47] Ibid. p. 384.
[48] Ibid. p. 546.
[49] Warburton, III. p. 388.
[50] Rupert Transcripts. Journal, Feb. 26, 1651.
CHAPTER XV
RUPERT AT PARIS. ILLNESS. QUARREL WITH CHARLES II.
FACTIONS AT ST. GERMAINS. RUPERT GOES TO GERMANY.
RECONCILED WITH CHARLES
Rupert's return was eagerly hailed by all parties in the exiled Court of England. Wrote the King:
"My Dearest Cousin,
"I am so surprised with joy in the assurance of your safe arrival in these parts that I cannot tell you how great it is; nor can I consider any misfortunes or accidents which have happened, now I know that your person is in safety. If I could receive the like comfort in a reasonable hope of your brother's, I need not tell you how important it would be to my affairs. While my affection makes me impatient to see you I know the same desire will incline you, (after you have done what can only be done by your presence there,) to make what haste to me your health can endure, of which I must conjure you to have such a care as it shall be in no danger."[1]
Hyde expressed himself with almost equal warmth. "For God's sake, Sir, in the first place look to your health, and then to the safety of what you have there, and lose no minute of coming away. I do not doubt you will find the welcome that will please you with the King, the Queen, and the Duke of York."[2]
And Jermyn added the assurance of his own "infinite joy," and the Queen's constant friendship, concluding with the appropriate prayer: "God of Heaven keep you in all your dangers, and give you at length some quiet, and the fruits of them."[3]
The King gave proof of his affection by the zeal with which he prepared for his cousin's reception in Paris; an honour apparently disputed with him by Rupert's brother Edward. "The King is very active in preparing a lodging for you," writes one of the Prince's friends. "If I be not deceived he would have liked well to have it left to him, of which the Prince, your brother, as I understand, gives you some account. I will send you more by the next, knowing no more as yet, but that the King hath it in his love for you to have you near him, which certainly is fitter than to have thought of another lodging, without his knowledge."[4]
But, alas! the Rupert who returned was not the Rupert who had sailed away three years before! He had, as Hyde expressed it, "endured strange hardness,"[5] and the "hardness" had left its mark upon him. He came back from his long voyage a changed and broken-hearted man. "His Highness's fire was pretty much decayed, and his judgment ripened," says Campbell; but the change went deeper than that. The Prince had failed in his undertaking; he had lost the greater part of his hard-won treasure, his ships, his men, above all his best-loved brother—and these losses had carried with them a part of his old self. The high spirits and buoyant hopefulness of earlier days were gone for ever. Gone too was something of the youthful generosity; Rupert was embittered now, harder, colder, more sardonic; a man, said Colbert, "with a natural inclination to believe evil!"[6]
His health too, that best inheritance from his mother, had been ruined by bad climates and insufficient food. On his arrival at Nantes he fell dangerously ill, nor was he ever again wholly free from suffering. His illness created no small consternation among the Royalists, and much sympathy was poured out upon him. "Think of your health," urged one friend, "and if you dare venture on your old apothecary you may, from whom you will receive some drugs, well meant, if not well prepared."[7] This tempting offer was probably declined. The Palatines had ideas of their own upon the subject of medicine, a profound distrust of doctors, and a very reasonable aversion to the then universal practice of bleeding. "Pray God she fall not into the Frenchified physician's hands, and so let blood and die!"[8] Rupert wrote of a fair friend, at a later date, On the present occasion he recovered from his illness, with or without the aid of physicians, and in April hastened to join his cousin, King Charles.
At Paris he met with as warm a reception as he could have desired. Not only the English exiles, but the French Court also hastened to do him honour. The Queen Regent and Mazarin had always been his good friends, and now his strange adventures had fired the imagination of the young King Louis, who "complimented him in an extraordinary manner."[9] Indeed Rupert, with his romantic history, his striking personality, gigantic stature, and supposed magical powers,[10] not to mention his accredited wealth, his monkeys and "blackamours," made a considerable sensation in the excitable world of Paris. Many were the anonymous letters addressed to him by fair hands; but for some time his bad health and his sorrowful heart made him indifferent to the adulation bestowed on him. "Prince Rupert goes little abroad in France, and is very sad that he can hear nothing of his brother Maurice,"[11] was the report made by Cromwell's spies. And wrote Hyde, April 25, 1653: "Prince Rupert is not yet well enough to venture to go abroad, and therefore hath not visited the French Court, but I hope he will within a day or two. Of Prince Maurice we hear not one word."[12]
But as his health improved, Rupert relaxed his austerity and joined his Stuart cousins in their amusements. He was often to be seen in the hall of the Palais Royal, playing at billiards with the King and the Duke of York,[13] and sometimes he swam with them in the Seine. On one such occasion he was very nearly drowned; he was seized with cramp, and had already gone under water, when one of his train rescued him by the hair of his head. "The River Seine had like to have made an end of your black Prince Rupert," wrote one of the Puritan spies who watched all his actions, "for, some days since, he would needs cool himself in the river, where he was in danger of drowning, but, by the help of one of his blackmores, escaped."[14]
The same spy related another adventure which, if true, illustrates the singularly lawless state of Paris, and also suggests that Rupert was not quite indifferent to the overtures of the ladies who courted him. As he returned from hunting, one Sunday, accompanied only by Holmes, he was overtaken by two gentlemen, riding in great haste towards Paris. No sooner had they passed the Prince, than, wheeling suddenly round, they both fired at him. Both missed, and Rupert promptly returning the shots, wounded one and killed the other. A third gentleman then coming up, was about to fire on the Prince, but seeing him prepared, changed his mind and called out that he was the husband of the Marechal de Plessy Praslin's daughter. Rupert retorted that he did not believe him, but, since he said so, would let him alone. So the matter passed," concludes the narrator of the story coolly, "and the gentleman killed, the worse for him!"[15]
In the midst of these adventures Rupert did not neglect business. He had to dispose of the guns and other fittings of his ship, which it was impossible to render sea-worthy again; and he also had a considerable quantity of goods to sell, the nature of which we learn from the letters of Holmes, who had gone back to Nantes in May 1653. From Nantes, Holmes sent samples of sugar, copper, tobacco, various kinds of woods, and elephants' teeth to the Prince at Paris. He also sent, at Rupert's express desire, "the little nigger," and promised to search among the ballast for two elephants' teeth which Rupert particularly required.[16] His search was very successful, and May 24 he reported, "I met, in tumbling over the ballast, 21 elephants' teeth, 36 sticks of wood, a chest of white sugar, and a small chest of copper bars."[17] It was time that some steps were taken for the disposing of these commodities. The officers of the ships were "much destitute of money." Fearnes refused to give Holmes any proper account of the stores, and the sailors were mutinying for pay. Holmes encountered them with drawn swords in their hands, but pacified them with "gentle mildness";[18] and Rupert came himself to Nantes to attend the sale of his treasures. In this matter, Mazarin lent all assistance in his power, and Cromwell who claimed the Prince's goods as stolen from English merchants remonstrated with the French court in vain.
"What should His Excellency the Lord General Cromwell expect from the Cardinal but a parcel of fair promises?" protested an agent of the Commonwealth. "I assure you the King and the Cardinal are resolved not to deliver Prince Rupert's merchandizes. The merchants, having given a good deal of money to some ministers here, thinking to corrupt them,—a thing very easy to be done, in any other occasion but this,—find now that it is but so much money cast into the sea. Prince Rupert was somewhat affrighted, by reason of the bribes, but there is given him by the Queen, Cardinal, and Council such assurances as his mind is at rest. I protest they laugh at you, and think your demands so insolent as nothing more."[19]
In fact, while the English merchants lavished money, and Cromwell protests, Rupert was quietly selling the disputed goods at Nantes, and also the "Swallow" and her guns. He had no sooner accomplished this than he hastened back to Paris, in obedience to an urgent letter received from Charles.
"Dearest Cousin,
"According to your desire I sent the warrant to sell the 'Swallow' and her guns. I have little to say to you, only to put you in mind to make all the haste you can hither, when you can do it without harm to your business. For, besides the great desire I have of your company, I do believe there is something now to be done which I cannot do without your presence and assistance. I have no more to say until I see you, but to assure you that I am entirely, dearest Cousin,
"Your most affectionate Cousin,
"Charles R."[20]
After this very cordial letter it is rather surprising to find a violent quarrel between the two cousins immediately following Rupert's return to Paris. The truth was that Charles had expected to gain much wealth on the return of the fleet, which would, he hoped, enable him to leave France, of which he was as weary as France was of him. But before Rupert's first coming to Paris he had sent such an account as ought to have convinced Charles that he had little to expect. That he had gained treasure of great value the Prince confessed, but most of it had been lost with Maurice, or in the wreck of the "Constant Reformation." What remained would scarcely suffice to pay off the sailors and discharge the old debt at Toulon. Moreover, the ships were so worm-eaten that there was no possibility of again sending them to sea.[21] Bitter as was this disappointment to the King, he still hoped to gain something by the sale of the guns, and when he found that Rupert laid claim to half the money thus obtained, it was more than he could endure. Hyde, who had never loved Rupert, easily persuaded the King that his cousin was dealing unfairly, and induced him to demand an exact account. The Prince, hotly resenting Hyde's insinuations, refused to offer any explanation more explicit than that already made.
When it is remembered how devotedly Rupert had exposed his person and all that he had in Charles's service, how his mother's jewels had helped to fit out the fleet, and how freely he had surrendered his private share in the prizes to the King, it is scarcely credible that he could have put forward an unjust, or even a selfish claim. Campbell corroborates the Prince's own statement that the sale of the goods did not realise enough to pay off all the sailors; and there still remained the debts at Toulon, which Charles had been begged to pay two years before. Nor were they paid now, in 1662, one Guibert Hessin petitioned Charles II for 29,480 livres tournois, being the debt for victualling the fleet at Toulon in 1650, of which Rupert had ordered payment in 1654.[22] It is therefore fairly evident that Rupert did not claim the money for his own use, but in order to satisfy the just claims of others. The payment of his debts was a point on which he was particularly sensitive, but the practice may well have failed to commend itself to Charles. An important witness on Rupert's side is Hatton, who, a little before the quarrel, had written to Nicholas: "I am sure they now owe Prince Rupert £1,700, ... and that will, at the day of reckoning, breed ill-blood."[23]
The day of reckoning came in February 1654, and all happened as Hatton had predicted.
"You talk of money the King should have upon the prizes at Nantes!" wrote Hyde indignantly. "Alas, he hath not only not had one penny from thence, but Prince Rupert pretends that the King owes him more money than ever I was worth."[24] The quarrel raged for a month before Rupert would give any explanation of his claims. At last, in March, he condescended to give the King "a little short paper, not containing twenty lines," which he charged his cousin not to show to Hyde. But Charles of course suffered Hyde to see it, charging him, in his turn, to conceal his knowledge of it from Rupert.[25] The result was a worse quarrel than ever. Seeing that the King was not going to acknowledge his claim, Rupert prompted his creditors to arrest the guns. Charles remonstrated,—"kindly expostulated," Hyde phrased it,—whereupon Rupert lost his temper, and protested that "justice would have justice," speaking, said Hyde, "with isolence enough."[26] The affair was "exceedingly taken notice of,"[27] and it was rumoured that Rupert would leave his cousin's service. Mazarin, who realised that the sooner Charles got some money, the sooner he would leave France, enabled him to rescue the guns from the creditors' clutches; but Queen Henrietta gave all her support to her nephew. "It is not possible to believe how much, in so gross a thing, the Queen and Lord Jermyn side with Prince Rupert," complained Hyde.[28] Probably Henrietta and her favourite cared little whether the creditors were paid or not; but more than a mere question of debts was at stake, the exiled Court was as factious as ever. In the King's Council, Henrietta, the Duke of York, the Duke of Buckingham and Lord Jermyn opposed themselves violently to the policy of Ormonde, Rochester (Wilmot), Percy, Inchiquin, Taafe, and Hyde. Hyde's party was then in the ascendant, and the Queen was anxious to secure Rupert's adherence to her own party. He was not without a considerable following of his own, and there was a definite design to represent him "as head of the Swordsmen, making it good by little insignificant particulars."[29] The most influential of his friends was the Attorney-General, Herbert, recently made Lord Keeper, to whom Henrietta had hastened to pay court as soon as she heard of Rupert's arrival at Nantes. Herbert, though distinguished neither for tact nor for wisdom, possessed great influence with the Prince. "The Lord Keeper is so extreme vain and foolish in his government of Prince Rupert that he does more towards the ruin of that Prince than all his enemies could do,"[30] declared Hyde. And though Charles declared that he could cure his cousin of his infatuation, he failed to do so. Lord Gerard, a man of fertile brain, who "could never lack projects,"[31] was not much wiser than Herbert. Between them, they concocted a thousand schemes "to make Prince Rupert General in England, Scotland, and Ireland, and Admiral of two or three fleets together," not to mention other projects, all contrived for the benefit of the unlucky Prince, who, Hyde might justly say, would "have cause to curse the day he ever knew either of them."[32]
The Queen, on her part, was doing her best to destroy Hyde's power with the King, that being the chief obstacle to the exercise of her own influence. The Chancellor had no lack of enemies, but the charges brought against him were so absurd that he could afford to laugh at them. "I hope you think it strange to hear that I have been in England, and have had private conference with Cromwell; and that you are not sorry that my enemies can frame no wiser calumny against me,"[33] he wrote to a friend. The inventor of this extraordinary story was the King's secretary, Long, who was backed up by the Queen and her partisans. They expected the support of Rupert, but he, much as he detested the Chancellor, was too honest to lend himself to any such plot. "They are much disappointed to find Prince Rupert not of their party," declared Hyde triumphantly. "He indeed carries himself with great discretion."[34] Nor did the Prince content himself with discretion, he even actively defended Hyde's character. A dispute on the subject had arisen between Ormonde and Herbert, the latter having remarked that "it was strange the King should make such a difference between Mr. Chancellor and Mr. Long, whereas he held Mr. Long as good a gentleman as Mr. Chancellor." Rupert, who was standing by, retorted sharply that the King "made not the difference from their blood, but from the honesty of the Chancellor and the dishonesty of Long." Herbert vehemently protested that he believed Long as honest as Hyde; to which replied Ormonde, "Ay, but the King thought not so, and perhaps there were times when his Lordship thought not so." And a very pretty quarrel ensued.[35]
In the meantime Sir Marmaduke Langdale, a man of more sense than Gerard or Herbert, seriously proposed that Rupert should take a new expedition to Scotland. To this plan, the Queen lent a willing ear. The Scots, though still resolved that only those "eminent for righteousness" should enter Scotland with the King, were willing to include Rupert, Ormonde, Nicholas, Gerard and Craven under that head.[36] The scheme therefore seemed feasible, but Rupert and Henrietta were of one mind in wishing that James of York, rather than the King, might be the nominal leader of the enterprise. The wish was natural enough, for the life led by Charles in Paris was not calculated to commend him to his serious-minded cousin. James, on the contrary, seemed full of promise, practical, conscientious, and energetic.[37] Negotiations with the Scots were seriously opened, but they were not all agreed concerning Rupert; and a letter shown to James by his secretary, Bennet, created considerable stir in the Palais Royal. This letter stated that the Scots still cherished a strong aversion to Rupert, and earnestly hoped that he would not appear in their country. James hastened with the letter to his cousin, who, "would needs know" the name of the writer. This, Bennet refused to divulge, until the writer himself arrived on the scene, in the person of Daniel O'Neil, who, seeing the excitement he had caused, "told plainly he wrote it, and said further that most of the friends of the English and Scots were of that opinion."[38]
Eventually the whole scheme fell through, as a hundred others had done, but not before Charles's anger and jealousy had been excited against James. The result of the negotiations was therefore to produce a coldness between the Stuart brothers, a further breach between Charles and Rupert, and a definite quarrel between the King and the Queen mother. Henrietta reproached her son violently with his conduct towards Rupert, Herbert and Berkeley; and Charles retorted angrily, that, after their behaviour to him, they should "never more have his trust nor his company."[39]
Upon this, Rupert resigned his office of Master of the Horse—a mere empty title—and departed for Germany, notwithstanding Henrietta's entreaties that he would remain.[40] He had hardly declared his intention of going, when the good-natured Charles half-repented of his share in the quarrel; and a reconciliation was accomplished, so far as the debt was concerned.[41] But Rupert adhered to his resolution of visiting Germany, saying that he had affairs of his own to look after, to obtain some appanage from his brother, and to demand the money due to him from the Emperor, under the treaty of Munster. Charles therefore wrote an apologetic letter to his aunt, the Queen of Bohemia, explaining that his cousin had not quitted his service, and that, though he did not deny having "taken some things unkindly" from Rupert, he trusted that they might soon meet again, "with more kindness and a better understanding," for, in spite of all that had passed, he continued to "love him very much, and always be confident of his friendship."[42]
Rupert went first to his brother at Heidelberg, with "a great train and brave," consisting of twenty-six persons,—three negroes and "the little nigger" included.[43] At Heidelberg he remained for about a month, but his real destination was Vienna, whither he went to demand the money owed him by the Emperor. He arrived there in September, and was received with great cordiality. He had been a persona grata to the Austrians ever since he had won their hearts as their prisoner; and Cromwell's spies commented, in great disgust, on the honour shown him, and the alacrity with which dues were promised to him. "His Imperial Majesty hath commanded an assignation to Prince Rupert Palatine of 30,000 rix dollars, of a certain sum due since the Treaty of Munster. Prince Rupert has also obtained money for Charles Stuart, and more is promised," they reported.[44]