THE SIEGE OF BREDA. THE ATTEMPT ON THE PALATINATE. RUPERT'S CAPTIVITY
Immediately on his return from England in 1637, Rupert joined his
brother Maurice in the army of the Stadtholder. Prince Henry was just
then engaged in the siege of Breda, a town which was oftener lost and
won than any other in the long wars of the Low Countries. Many
Englishmen were fighting there, in the Dutch army: Astley, Goring, the
Lords Northampton and Grandison, with whom the Palatines were already
well acquainted, besides others whom they were to meet hereafter in the
English war, either as friends or foes. The two young princes acted
with their usual energy and "let not one day pass in that siege,
without doing some action at which the whole army was surprised."[1]
Once, by their courage and ready wit, they saved the camp from an
unexpected attack. Waking in the night, Rupert fancied that he heard
unusual sounds within the city walls. He roused Maurice, and the two
crept up so close to the Spanish lines that they could actually hear
what the soldiers said on the other side. Thus they discovered that
the enemy was preparing to fall upon them at mid-night, and, hastening
back to the Stadtholder, they were able to give him timely warning.
Consequently, when the besieged sallied out, the besiegers were ready
for them, and forced them to retire with great loss.[2] On another
occasion Rupert's love of adventure led him into flat insubordination.
Monk, afterwards Duke of {35} Albemarle, was about to make an attack
upon the enemy's words, which was considered so dangerous that the
Stadtholder expressly forbade Rupert to take part in it. But Rupert no
sooner heard the Stadtholder give the order to advance, than he dashed
away, anticipating the aide-de-camp, himself delivered the order to
Monk, and, slipping into his company as a volunteer, took his share in
the exploit. The Prince came off unhurt, but many of his comrades
fell, and both Goring and Wilmot were severely wounded. The fight
over, Rupert and some other officers threw themselves down on a hillock
to rest; they had been there some time, when, to their surprise, a
Burgundian, whom they had taken for dead, suddenly started up, crying:
"Messieurs, est-il point de quartier?" The English officers burst out
laughing, and immediately dubbed him "Jack Falstaff", which name he
bore to his dying day.[3] What the Stadtholder thought of Rupert's
mutinous conduct is not recorded.
Eventually Breda fell to the Dutch arms, and Maurice was, immediately
after, sent to school in Paris, with his younger brothers, Edward and
Philip. He must have gone sorely against his will, especially as
Charles and Rupert were proceeding to levy forces for their own attempt
on the Palatinate. But Elizabeth was inexorable. She was resolved not
to blush for the manners of her younger sons, as she declared she did
for those of Rupert; and she was, besides, anxious to have Maurice in
safety, seeing that the two elder boys were about to risk their lives
in so rash a venture.
Since the death of their King Gustavus the Swedes had continued the war
in Germany, though without any such brilliant successes as had been
theirs before. Still many towns were in their hands, and doubtless the
young Elector hoped for their cooperation in his own venture. He had
been joined by many English volunteers; and by means of English {36}
money he was able to raise troops in Hamburg and Westphalia. As a
convenient muster-place, he had purchased Meppen on the Weser, from a
Swedish officer, to whom the place had been given by Gustavus. But ere
the Elector's levies were completed, the negligence of the Governor
suffered the town to fall into the hands of the Imperialists. Charles
took this mischance with praiseworthy philosophy: "A misty morning,"
quoth he, "often makes a cheerfuller day."[4] And thanks to the
kindness of the Stadtholder, and the connivance of the States, he was
enabled to continue his levies, quartering his men about Wesel.
In the midst of their labours, both he and Rupert found time to attend
a tournament at the Hague. Dressed as Moors, and mounted on white
horses, they, as usual, outshone all others. Indeed so pleased were
they with their own prowess, that they issued a printed challenge for a
renewal of the courses. Balls also were in vogue, and the Hague was
unusually gay; yet Elizabeth retired, early in the season, to her
country house at Rhenen. Feeling between mother and sons was still
somewhat strained. The Queen found the boys far less submissive to her
will than they had been before their year of liberty in England, and
Lord Craven, who acted as mediator, found the post no sinecure.
But to Lord Craven no task came amiss in the service of the Palatines.
The history of his life-long devotion to the exiled Queen is well
known, and it is doubtful whether his unparalleled generosity, or the
boundless wealth which made such generosity possible, be the most
astonishing. His father, a son of the people, had made in trade, the
enormous fortune which he bequeathed to his children. The eldest son,
fired by military ambition, had entered the service of the Palatine
Frederick, and, at the siege of Kreuznach, had attracted the notice and
approbation of the great Gustavus. His wealth and his military fame
{37} won him an English peerage, but, after Frederick's death, Lord
Craven continued to reside at the Hague, filling every imaginable
office in the impoverished Palatine household, and lavishing
extravagant sums on the whole family. "He was a very valuable friend,
for he possessed a purse better furnished than my own!"[5] confessed
Sophie. In later years, when the good Prince of Orange was dead, and
Charles I no longer in a position to aid his sister, Elizabeth was
almost entirely dependent on this loyal friend; but the English
Parliament at last confiscated his estates, and so deprived him of the
power to assist her. The young Palatines were doubtless attached to
him, but it must be admitted that they showed themselves less grateful
than might have been desired. His follies and his eccentricities
impressed them more than did his virtues, and "the little mad my lord"
afforded them much matter for mirth. Possibly he was, as Sophie said,
lamentably lacking in common-sense,[6] but the family would have fared
far worse without him. On the present occasion he had contributed
L10,000 to the support of the Elector's army, and, at Elizabeth's
request, undertook the special care of the rash young Rupert, whose
senior he was by ten years.
By October 1638 Charles Louis' little army was ready for action.
Rupert had the command of a regiment of Horse, and Lord Craven led the
Guards; the other principal officers were the Counts Ferentz and
Koenigsmark. Anything more wild and futile than this expedition it is
hard to conceive. There seems to have been no cooperation with the
Protestant princes of the Empire, nor with the Swedish army. On the
contrary, at the very moment of the Elector's attack, there was a
cessation of hostilities elsewhere. Banier, the chief of the Swedish
commanders, lay with his forces in Munster, and he made no movement to
join with his {38} young ally; all that he did was to send his second
in command, a Scot, named King, to direct the Elector's operations. To
the advice of King, Rupert, at least, attributed the disasters that
followed; but it would have been a miracle indeed had the two boys,
with their four thousand men, dashed themselves thus wildly against the
numberless veteran troops of the Emperor with any better result. To
the Lower Palatinate, which was always loyal at heart, Charles Louis
turned his eyes. Accordingly he marched from Wesel, eastward, through
the Bishopric of Munster. On the march, Rupert, with his usual
eagerness to fight, succeeded in drawing out upon his van an Imperial
garrison. But the vigorous charge with which he received it drove it
back into the town, whither Rupert nearly succeeded in following it.[7]
On this occasion a soldier fired at him from within ten yards, but, as
so often happened when the Prince was threatened, the gun missed fire.
After this adventure the army proceeded steadily towards the river
Weser, resolving to lay siege to Lemgo, which lies south of Minden in
Westphalia. But hardly had the Elector sat down before the town, when
he heard that the Imperial forces, led by General Hatzfeldt, were
advancing to cut off his retreat. To await Hatzfeldt's onslaught was
madness, and instant retreat to Minden, then held by the Swedes, was
the only course for the Palatines. Two routes lay open to them, that
by Vlotho on the west, or by Rinteln on the east. Following, the
advice of General King, they chose the way of Vlotho and thus fell
"into the very mouth of Hatzfeldt."[8] They were still between Lemgo
and Vlotho when they encountered eight regiments of Imperialist
Cuirassiers, a regiment of Irish Dragoons, and a force of eighteen
thousand foot. General King at once sent away his baggage, "an act
{39} which received a very ill construction,"[9] and then counselled
the Elector to draw up his troops on the top of a neighbouring hill.
Field-marshal Ferentz complied with the suggestion; but Koenigsmark who
commanded the hired Swedes, so much disliked the position, that Rupert
offered to follow him wherever he pleased. Thereupon Koenigsmark drew
the horse down again, into an enclosed piece of land, courteously
giving the van to the Elector. King, in the meantime, went to bring up
the foot and cannon.
The Imperialists fell first upon the Elector and Ferentz, who were both
beaten back. Rupert withstood the third shock, and beat back the enemy
from their ground. Lord Craven then brought his Guards to Rupert's
assistance, and a second time they beat back the Imperialists with
loss. They were, however, far outnumbered. Calling up another
regiment, under Colonel Lippe, and sending eight hundred Horse to
attack Rupert's rear, the enemy charged him a third time, with complete
success. The young Elector, who had hitherto fought bravely, now took
to flight, with General King, and both narrowly escaped drowning in the
flooded Weser. Rupert might also have escaped; cut off from his own
troops by the very impetuosity of his charge, he rode alone into the
midst of the enemy, but, by a curious chance, he wore in his hat a
white favour, which was also the badge of the Austrians, and thus, for
a time, escaped notice. While he looked out for some chance of escape,
he perceived his brother's cornet struggling against a number of
Imperial troopers. Rupert flew to the rescue, and thus betrayed
himself. The Austrians closed round him; he tried to clear the
enclosure, but his tired horse refused the jump. Colonel Lippe caught
at his bridle, but Rupert, struggling fiercely, made him let go his
hold. Lord Craven and Count Ferentz rushed to the rescue of their
Prince, but all three were {40} speedily overpowered. Then Lippe
struck up Rupert's visor, and demanded to know who he was. "A
Colonel!" said the boy obstinately. "Sacrement! It is a young one!"
cried the Austrian. A soldier, coming up, recognised the boy and
identified him as "the Pfalzgraf", and Lippe, in great joy, confided
him to the care of a trooper. Rupert immediately tried to bribe the
man to let him escape, giving him all the money he had, "five pieces",
and promising more. But the arrival of Hatzfeldt frustrated the
design, and the Prince was carried off, under a strict guard, to
Warrendorf. On the way thither a woman, won by the boy's youth and
misfortunes, would have helped him to escape, but no opportunity
offered itself. At Warrendorf, Rupert was allowed to remain some
weeks, until Lord Craven, who, with Ferentz, was also a prisoner, had
somewhat recovered from his wounds. The Prince was also permitted to
despatch Sir Richard Crane to England, with a note to Charles I,
written in pencil on a page of his pocketbook, for pen and ink were
denied him.[10]
News of the disaster had been received with dismay in England, where it
was reported with much exaggeration. "Prince Rupert," it was said, "is
taken prisoner, and since dead of his many wounds; he having fought
very bravely, and, as the gazette says, like a lion."[11] His fate
remained doubtful for some days, and it was even rumoured that he had
been seen at Minden, two days after the battle. But his mother gave
little credence to such flattering reports; in her opinion the boy's
death would have been preferable to his capture. "If he be a prisoner
I confess it will be no small grief to me," she wrote to her faithful
Roe, "for I wish him rather dead than in his enemies' hands."[12] And
when her worst fears had been realised, she wrote again: "I confess
that in my passion I did {41} rather wish him killed. I pray God I
have not more cause to wish it before he be gotten out. All my fear is
their going to Vienna; if it were possible to be hindered!... Mr.
Crane, one that follows My Lord Craven, is come from Rupert, who
desired him to assure me that neither good usage nor ill should ever
make him change his religion or his party. I know his disposition is
good, and that he will never disobey me at any time, though to others
he was stubborn and wilful. I hope he will continue so, yet I am born
to so much affliction that I dare not be confident of it. I am
comforted that my sons have lost no honour in the action, and that him
I love best is safe."[13] "Him I love best" was of course the Elector
Charles, and thus, even in the moment of Rupert's peril, his mother
confessed her preference for his elder brother.
In January 1639 Elizabeth's fears about Vienna seemed justified, for an
English resident wrote thence to Secretary Windebank: "Prince Rupert is
daily expected, and will be well treated, being likely to be liberated
on parole. Hatzfeldt praises him for his ripeness of judgment, far
beyond his years."[14] And to Rupert himself Hatzfeldt gave the
assurance that he should see the Emperor--"Then the Emperor shall see
me also!"[15] exclaimed the boy, in angry scorn. But the interview did
not take place. In February Rupert was lodged, not at Vienna, but at
Linz on the Danube, under the care of a certain Graf Kuffstein. Craven
and Ferentz soon ransomed themselves. They had not been permitted to
accompany the Prince further than Bamberg, though Lord Craven, who paid
L20,000 for his own liberty, offered to pay more still for permission
to share Rupert's captivity. But the Emperor was resolved to isolate
the boy from all his friends, as a first step towards gaining him over
to the Imperial politics, and the Roman faith. {42} The Elector
therefore attempted in vain to send some companion to his brother. "I
must tell Your Majesty," he wrote to his mother, "that it will be in
vain to send any gentleman to my brother, since he cannot go without
Hatzfeldt's pass, for which I wrote long ago. But I have received from
him an answer to all points in my letter, except to that, which is as
much as a modest denial. Essex[16] should have gone, because there was
no one else would, neither could I force any to it, since there is no
small danger in it; for any obstinacy of my brother Rupert, or venture
to escape, would put him in danger of hanging. The Administrator of
Magdeburg was suffered to have but a serving-boy with him. Therefore
one may easily imagine that they will much less permit him (_i.e._
Rupert) to have anybody with him that may persuade him to anything
against their ends."[17]
As Charles surmised, Rupert's confinement was, at first, very vigorous.
All the liberty that he enjoyed was an occasional walk in the castle
garden; all his entertainment an occasional dinner with the Governor.
Graf Kuffstein, himself a convert from Lutheranism, was commissioned by
the Emperor to urge his desires on the young prisoner. "And very busy
he was to get the prince to change his religion." At first he urged
him to visit some Jesuits, but this Rupert refused to do unless he
might also go elsewhere. Then Graf Kuffstein offered to bring the
Jesuits to the Prince, but Rupert would only receive their visits on
condition that other people might visit him also.[18] To the promise
of liberal rewards if he would but serve in the Imperial army, the boy
proved equally impervious; and though deprived of all society he found
interests and occupations for himself. His artistic talents stood him
in good stead, and he devoted himself much to drawing and etching. At
{43} this period also he perfected an instrument for drawing in
perspective, which had been conceived, but never rendered practical, by
Albert Durer. This instrument was in use in England after the
Restoration of 1660. Military exercises Rupert also used, as far as
his condition would permit. He was allowed to practise with "a screwed
gun," and, after some time, he obtained leave "to ride the great
horse," and to play at tennis. Naturally, constant efforts were made
to procure his release. In July 1640 Lord Craven wrote to Secretary
Windebank on the subject: "Mr. Webb has informed me that His Majesty
has imposed upon you the putting him in mind of pressing on the Spanish
Ambassador the delivery of Prince Rupert. I know you will, of
yourself, be willing enough to perform that charitable action, however,
the relation I have to that generous prince is such that I should fail
of my duty if I did not entreat your vigilance in it."[19] King
Charles sent Ambassadors extraordinary, not only to the Emperor, but
also to Spain, whose intercession he entreated. The Cardinal Infant
promised to plead, at least, for Rupert's better treatment, and King
Charles next turned to France. France, then at war with the Empire,
held prisoner Prince Casimir of Poland who, it seemed to Charles, might
be a fit exchange for his nephew. Through Leicester he urged Prince
Casimir's detention until Rupert's liberty were promised. But the
scheme failed; Rupert, it was answered, was "esteemed an active
prince,"[20] and would not be released, so long as danger threatened
the Empire. So early had he acquired a warlike reputation.
Owing perhaps to the intercession of the Cardinal Infant of Spain, he
was at last permitted the attendance of a page and groom, who might be
Dutch or English, but not German. "I have sent Kingsmill his pass,"
wrote the Elector {44} in August 1640, "he will be fit enough to pass
my brother Rupert's time, and I do not think he will use his counsel in
anything."[21] Of Kingsmill's arrival at Linz we hear nothing, but two
other companions now relieved Rupert's solitude.
Susanne Marie von Kuffstein, daughter of Rupert's gaoler, was then a
lovely girl of about sixteen. She was, says the writer of the
Lansdowne MS., "one of the brightest beauties of the age, no less
excelling in the beauty of her mind than of her body." On this fair
lady the young prisoner's good looks, famous courage, and great
misfortunes made a deep impression. She exerted herself to soften her
father's heart, and to persuade him to gentler treatment of the
captive. In this she succeeded so well "that the Prince's former
favours were improved into familiarities, as continual visits,
invitations and the like." Thus Rupert was enabled to enjoy Susanne's
society, and that he did enjoy it there is very little doubt, "for he
never named her after in his life, without demonstration of the highest
admiration and expressing a devotion to serve her."[22] It has been
suggested that the memory of Susanne von Kuffstein was the cause of
Rupert's rejection of Marguerite de Rohan. There is, however, little
ground for crediting him with such constancy. Maurice, it must be
remembered, rejected the unfortunate Marguerite with equal decision.
Moreover, Susanne herself married three times, and Rupert's sentiment
towards her seems to have been nothing more passionate than a
chivalrous and grateful admiration.
Besides Susanne the Prince had at Linz another friend,--his white
poodle "Boye." This dog was a present from Lord Arundel, then English
Ambassador at Vienna; it remained Rupert's inseparable companion for
many years, and met at last a soldier's death on Marston Moor. The
Prince also, {45} for a short time, made a pet of a young hare, which
he trained to follow him like a dog, but this he afterwards released,
fearing that it might find captivity as irksome as did he himself.
Thus passed a two years' imprisonment, after which the Emperor deigned
to offer terms to his captive. In the first place he required that
Rupert should embrace the Roman faith. But the boy was a Palatine,
and, though he had listened willingly to the persuasions of his aunt,
Henrietta, the least hint of compulsion rendered him staunchly
Protestant. He answered the Emperor, somewhat grandiloquently, "that
he had not learnt to sacrifice his religion to his interest, and he
would rather breathe his last in prison, than go out through the gates
of Apostacy." The Emperor then consented to waive the question of
religion, only insisting that Rupert must ask pardon for his crime of
rebellion against the Holy Roman Empire. But to do this would have
been to deny his brother's right to his Electorate, and Rupert only
retorted coldly that he "disdained" to ask pardon for doing his duty.
Finally, he was invited to take service under the Emperor, and to fight
against France, which country had just imprisoned his eldest brother.
But here also the boy was obdurate. To fight under the Emperor would
inevitably involve fighting against the Swedes and the Protestant
princes. Rupert therefore replied, "that he received the proposal
rather as an affront than as a favour, and that he would never take
arms against the champions of his father's cause."[23]
After such contumacy it may well be believed that the Emperor's
patience was exhausted. His brother-in-law the Duke of Bavaria, then
owner of the Upper Palatinate, and of the ducal title which was
Rupert's birthright, suggested that the boy's spirit was not yet
broken, and urged the Emperor to deprive him of his privileges.
Accordingly, Graf {46} Kuffstein was ordered to cease his civilities,
and Rupert was placed in a confinement rendered stricter than ever,
guarded day and night by twelve musketeers.
For this severity the proximity of a Swedish army was an additional
reason. Maurice himself was serving in their ranks, and the Emperor
feared lest Rupert should hold correspondence with them. Against these
Swedes was despatched the Emperor's brother, the Archduke Leopold, who,
very happily for Rupert, passed, on his way, through Linz. Being at
Linz, the Archduke naturally visited the youthful prisoner who had made
so much sensation, and was forthwith captivated by him. Leopold, whose
gentle piety had won him the name of "the Angel", was but a few years
older than the Palatine; the two had many tastes in common, and in that
visit was established a friendship between Rupert the Devil and Leopold
the Angel, which endured to the end of their lives.
The Archduke's intercession with the Emperor not only restored to
Rupert his former privileges, but won him the additional liberty of
leaving the castle on parole for so long as three days at a time.[24]
As soon as this concession made their civilities possible, the nobles
of the country showed themselves anxious to alleviate the tedium of
Rupert's captivity. They "treated him with all the respects
imaginable," invited him to their houses, and gave hunting parties in
his honour. The house most frequented by Rupert was that of Graf
Kevenheller, who, oddly enough, had been one of Frederick's bitterest
foes. Yet Frederick's son found this Graf's house "a most pleasant
place," at which he was always "very generously entertained."[25] And
Rupert, on his part, seems to have made himself exceedingly popular
with his friendly foes. He was, as they said, "beloved by all,"[26]
and, wrote an {47} Imperialist soldier, "his behaviour so obligeth the
cavaliers of this country that they wait upon him and serve him as if
they were his subjects."[27] As pleasant a captivity as could be had
was Rupert's now, but yet a captivity; and still, in spite of Susanne
von Kuffstein, in spite of the Archduke and of "all the cavaliers of
the country," his thoughts turned wistfully to the Hague, where, for
him, was home.
[1] Lansdowne MSS. 817. fol. 157-168.
[2] Benett MSS. Warburton. Vol. I. p. 450.
[3] Benett MSS. Warburton. Vol. I. p. 451.
[4] Green's Princesses, Vol. V. p. 558.
[5] Memoiren der Herzogin Sophie, pp. 42-43.
[6] Briefwechsel der Herzogin Sophie mit Karl Ludwig von der Pfalz.
Ed. Bodemann. p. 184. Preussischen Staats Archiven.
[7] Beoett MSS. Warburton. Vol. I. p. 453.
[8] Ibid.
[9] Warburton, I. p. 453.
[10] Benett MSS. Warburton. Vol. I. pp. 454-455
[11] Dom. S. P. Nicholas to Pennington, Nov. 14, 1638.
[12] D. S. P. Eliz. to Roe, Oct. 2, 1638.
[13] Dom. State Papers, Eliz. to Roe, Nov. 6, 1638.
[14] Clarendon State Papers, f. 1171. Taylor to Windebank, Jan. 12,
1638-9.
[15] Green's Princesses of England. Vol. V. p. 570.
[16] Probably Colonel Charles Essex, killed 1642, at Edgehill.
[17] Bromley Letters, p. 103.
[18] Benett MSS. Warburton. Vol. I. p. 457.
[19] Dom. State Papers, Craven to Windebank, July 6, 1640.
[20] Clarendon State Papers, Sir A. Hopton to Windebank, 18-28 July,
1640. fol. 1397.
[21] Bromley Letters, p. 116.
[22] Lansdowne MSS. 817.
[23] Lansdowne MSS. 817.
[24] Benett MSS. Warburton. Vol. I. pp. 457-458.
[25] Warburton, p. 458.
[26] Clarendon State Papers, Leslie to Windebank, July 19, 1640.
[27] Dom. S. P. Leslie to Windebank, July 29-Aug. 8, 1640.
{48}