THE WAR IN 1643. THE QUARREL WITH HERTFORD. THE ARRIVAL OF THE QUEEN
From Christmas Eve, 1642, till January 6th, 1643, Rupert remained
quietly at Oxford. His attempt to concentrate his forces on London had
failed, and he was now resolved on a new strategy. The King was to
hold Essex in check from Oxford; Lord Newcastle, who had raised an army
in the north, was to push through the midlands towards Essex; and
Hopton, marching from Cornwall to Kent, was to seize on the banks of
the Thames below London and so stop the city trade. Thus the enemy
would be completely surrounded and overwhelmed. For his own part,
Rupert had resolved on the capture of Cirencester. With this end he
started from Oxford, January 6th. His march, which continued all day
and all night, seems to have been lighted by meteors. "This night we
saw the strange fire falling from Heaven, like a bolt, which, with
several cracks, brake into balls and went out, about steeple height
from the ground."[1] Early on the morning of the 7th, they faced
Cirencester, but, owing to the late arrival of Lord Hertford, who was
to act with Rupert, the attack failed. Rupert therefore retreated, and
occupied himself in circling round Oxford until the end of the month.
On February 2nd, he renewed the attempt on Cirencester. A successful
feint towards Sudely drew off the attention of the town and enabled him
to enter it with comparative ease. But the garrison of Cirencester
kept up a brave resistance for an hour after the Royalists were in
possession of the place, which unhappily resulted {102} in much
bloodshed. Moreover, the town was sacked by "the undistinguishing
soldiers,"[2] and over a thousand prisoners were carried oft to Oxford.
The actual facts were bad enough, for Rupert's men were not yet
disciplined and had broken loose, but the report of the Parliament was
embellished with the usual exaggerations. "The enemy entered the town
and, being much enraged with their losses, put all to the sword they
met with; men, women and children; and in a barbarous manner murdered
three ministers, very godly and religious men."[3]
This success cooled the King's desire for agreement with the
Parliament, which had just sent Commissioners to Oxford to treat. "The
welcome news of your Highness taking of Cirencester by assault, with
admirable dexterity and courage, came this morning very seasonably and
opportunely, as His Majesty was ready to give an answer to the
Parliamentary Committee, and will, I believe, work better effects with
them and with those that sent them than the gracious reception they had
here from His Majesty,"[4] wrote the Secretary Nicholas to the Prince.
After reconnoitring Warwick and Gloucester, Rupert returned to Oxford,
where he composed the elaborate defence of his conduct already quoted,
entitled "Prince Rupert, his Declaration."
By February 22nd he had resumed his wanderings. Only a study of his
journal can give any idea of his restless activity, and therefore a few
entries from March 1643, are here quoted.
March 4. Satterday, to Cirencester.
" 5. To Malmesbury in Wiltshire.
" 6. Mundaye, to Chipping Sodburye in Glostershire.
" 7. Tuesday night, on Durdan Down by Bristol.
{103}
March 8. Wednesday morning, advancing towards Bristol,
we heard how Mr. Bourcher and Mr. Yeoman's
plot was discovered, and we instantly faced
about to Chipping Sodbury.
" 9. Thursday, to Malmesbury.
" 10. Friday, home to Oxford.
" 18. Satterday, to Abingdon.
" 19. Sunday, to Tetsworth.
" 20. Monday, to Denton in Buckinghamshire.
" 21. Tuesday, the little Skirmish before Aylesbury.
That night to Oxford.[5]
The entry of March 8th alludes to a Royalist plot by which it had been
intended to surrender Bristol to Rupert. But the plot was betrayed,
and the two merchants who had been the prime movers of it were executed.
Meanwhile the King's party was prospering in the North. Some time
previously the Queen had despatched Goring to the aid of the Earl of
Newcastle in Yorkshire; and in March she landed there herself, bringing
supplies and reinforcements. In Lancashire and Cheshire Lord Derby was
struggling valiantly, but he felt himself out-numbered, and earnestly
implored Rupert to come to his assistance. The Countess of Derby,
Charlotte de La Tremouille, who had been brought up at the Hague in
intimate relations with the Palatines, added her entreaties to those of
her husband: "Je ne sais ce que je dis, mais ayez pitie de mon mari,
mes enfans, et moi."[6] Moved by this urgent appeal, Rupert resolved
to go northward, and Digby volunteered to accompany him.
In the beginning of April they set forth, with twelve hundred horse and
about six hundred foot. Marching through Stratford-on-Avon, they came
to Birmingham, a place famous for its active disloyalty; it had seized
upon Royal plate, intercepted Royal messengers, and now boldly refused
to {104} admit Rupert within its walls. The Prince resolved on an
assault, and, on Easter Monday, he took and entered the town. The
conduct of the Cavaliers here was as much debated as it had been at
Cirencester. "The Cavaliers rode through the streets like so many
furies or bedlams; Lord Denbigh in the front, singing as he rode," says
the Puritan account. "They shot at every door and window where they
could espy any looking out. They hacked, hewed, or pistolled all they
met with; blaspheming, cursing, and damning themselves most
hideously... Nor did their rage cease here; but when, on the next day,
they were to march forth out of the town, they used every possible
diligence to set fire in all the streets, and, lest any should save any
of the goods they had left, they stood with drawn swords about all the
houses, endeavouring to kill anyone that appeared to quench the
flames."[7] The Royalist version was very different. After relating
the excessive provocation suffered by the soldiers, it admits that, in
order to force his entrance, the Prince did fire some houses, but that
as soon as the entrance was effected, he ordered the fire to be
extinguished. And on the next day, when he was about to leave the
town, "fearing the exasperation of his men, he gave express orders that
none should attempt to fire the town; and, after his departure, hearing
that some soldiers had fired it in divers places, he sent immediately
to let the inhabitants know that it was not done by his command, and he
desired it might be quenched."[8] This last account, being found in a
private letter, is probably more worthy of credit than the Puritan
pamphlet written to excite the populace.
On April 8th, Rupert summoned Lichfield to surrender, but that town,
well garrisoned and well commanded, answered him with defiance. Rupert
perceived that the siege would {105} be a matter of some time, and he
acted with great prudence. Withdrawing his cavalry from its perilous
position before the town, he managed to obtain fifty miners from the
neighbouring collieries. Then he asked his men and officers to
volunteer, as foot-soldiers, to the aid of the miners; with which
request they "cheerfully and gallantly" complied. On this occasion
George Digby especially distinguished himself, working in the trenches
"up to his waist in mud" until he was disabled by a shot in the thigh.
But this was the last time that he served under Rupert, for very soon
afterwards he quarrelled with the Prince, threw up his commission in a
rage, and fought thenceforth as a volunteer.[9]
In ten days the moat was dry, two bridges made, and the miners engaged
on the walls. Harassed by continual appeals for his presence
elsewhere, Rupert made an effort to hasten matters by storming the
town. But the attempt failed, and the garrison hanged one of their
prisoners over the wall, bidding the Prince in derision, to shoot him
down. Rupert thereupon swore deeply that not one man should have
quarter, but on the following day he repented of his resolve, and sent
to offer it. His overtures were rejected; and he resumed his
operations. That same evening his mine was sprung--the first ever
sprung in England--and the besiegers rushed into the city. But so
fierce was the opposition of the garrison at the barricades, that
Rupert recalled his storming party, and fired on the breach, until the
enemy at last hoisted the white flag. Colonel Hastings was then sent
into the city with powers to treat, but he was detained all night, and
the Prince, fearing treachery, ordered the attack to be renewed at
daybreak. Fortunately, with the light, came Hastings; the garrison had
surrendered, and was permitted to march out, "colours flying, trumpets
sounding, and matches lighted;"[10] an honour scarcely {106} deserved
after the horrible manner in which it had desecrated the Lichfield
Cathedral.
No sooner was the city taken than Rupert unwillingly turned back to
Oxford. During the siege he had received letters from the King, urging
him to hasten northward, but ere its completion the state of affairs
was changed. Reading was in dire peril, and its Governor, Sir Arthur
Aston, protested desperately to the Prince: "I am grown weary of my
life, with perpetual trouble and vexation." In his garrison he seemed
to have no confidence: "I am so extremely dejected with this business
that I do wish, with all my heart, I had some German soldiers to
command, or that I could infuse some German courage into them. For
your English soldiers are so poor and base that I could never have a
greater affliction light upon me than to be put into command of
them."[11] The report of the Secretary Nicholas was not more
comforting: "I assure your Highness it is the opinion of many here
that, if Prince Rupert come not speedily, Reading will be lost!"[12]
And finally, a peremptory command from the King for his instant return
left the Prince no room for hesitation.
But with all his haste Rupert came too late. Aston had been
incapacitated by a severe wound, and the command had fallen to his
subordinate, Colonel Fielding. Ignorant of the King's long delayed
advance to his relief, Fielding made a truce with Essex, in order to
treat; consequently, when the King and Rupert arrived and fell upon
Essex, Fielding could not, in honour, sally to their assistance. The
relief party perforce retired, and Rupert sent to demand of Essex the
name of a gentleman who had very valiantly attacked him in the
retreat.[13] After this failure, there was nothing left but to
surrender, and Fielding accepted Essex's permission to march out with
the honours {107} of war. But Essex was unable to prevent a breach of
the articles by his soldiers, who attacked and insulted the Royalist
garrison. This faithless conduct was bitterly remembered by the
Royalists, and subsequently repaid in kind at Bristol and Newark. As
for the unfortunate Fielding, he was tried by court-martial, and
condemned to death for his untimely surrender of his charge. But
Rupert, who fully understood his difficult position, was resolved that
he should not suffer, and urged the young Prince of Wales to plead with
the King for his life.[14] The little Prince's intercession prevailed,
and Fielding was spared. Throughout the rest of the war he served as a
volunteer, but, though he displayed great gallantry, his reputation
never recovered the unfortunate miscarriage at Reading.
The vicinity of Essex's army detained Rupert for some time at Oxford.
From that centre he and his picked troops carried on an active guerilla
warfare, scouring the country on all sides. "They took many prisoners
who thought themselves secure, and put them to ransom. And this they
did by night marches, through unfrequented ways, often very near
London." At the same time Rupert had to attend to a voluminous
correspondence with his officers in all parts of the country. The
generals, Crafurd, Newcastle, Maurice, and others demanded his orders.
Lord Northampton appealed to him for relief from the exorbitant demands
made on his tenantry by Colonel Croker.[15] From all sides came the
usual complaints about quarters, and supplies of provisions or
ammunition. Sir William Vavasour had a more unusual grievance. He
commanded in Wales, under Lord Herbert, but Lord Herbert, being a Roman
Catholic, could not openly exert his powers for fear of prejudicing the
King's affairs; and Digby presumed to send orders to Vavasour. "How to
behave myself in this I know not," wrote the distracted Colonel to the
Prince. "Nor do I {108} understand in what condition I myself am. My
Lord Herbert is General, and yet all despatches are directed to me;
which is not very pleasing to his Excellency."[16]
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 {109} 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 {110}
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 {111} 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 {112} 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 {113} 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 {114} 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
{115} 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 {116} 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 {117} 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
{118} 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 {119} 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 {120} 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
{121} 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, {122} 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 {123} 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 {124} 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 {125} 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 {126} 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 {127} 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.
{128}