INTRIGUES IN THE ARMY. DEPRESSION OF RUPERT. TREATY OF UXBRIDGE.
RUPERT IN THE MARCHES. STRUGGLE WITH DIGBY. BATTLE OF NASEBY
Terrible though the disaster in the North had been, the blow was
softened to the King by successes in the West. During August, in
company with Maurice, he pursued Essex into Cornwall and forced his
whole army of foot to surrender without a struggle. But for the
supineness of Goring, who had just succeeded Wilmot as General of the
Horse, the Parliamentary cavalry might have been captured in like
manner. But when Balfour led his troops through the Royalist lines,
Goring happened to be carousing in congenial company; he received the
news of the escape with laughter, and refused to stir until the enemy
were safely passed away.[1] Goring's new prominence and importance was
one among the many unfortunate results of Marston Moor. That battle
had ruined Rupert's reputation, and it had proportionately raised that
of Goring, who alone among the Royalist commanders had had success that
day. To Goring, therefore, the King turned, and Goring's licence,
negligence, indifference--or perhaps treachery--eventually lost the
West completely to the Royalists. Had Rupert been placed in Goring's
position he must have certainly effected more than did his rival.
For some time the King had been anxious to remove Wilmot from his
command. As early as May he had suggested to Rupert, as "a fancy of my
own,"[2] that Maurice {155} should be declared General of the Horse in
Wilmot's stead. But Rupert did not encourage the idea; he knew
probably that his brother was unfit for so much responsibility. Wilmot
therefore remained in command until August 9th. He was, as has been
said, a good officer, but he talked so wildly in his cups that his
loyalty was suspected; and when he was detected in private
correspondence with Essex, the King decided to arrest him, and to
promote Goring to his post. The arrest took place in sight of the
whole army; but though Wilmot was exceedingly popular with his
officers, they confined their protest to a little murmuring and a
"modest petition" to be told the charges against their commander. The
King responded by a promise that Wilmot should have a fair trial, and
his partisans were apparently pacified, though Goring declared to
Rupert: "This is the most mutinous army that ever I saw, as well horse
as foot!"[3] Digby's account of the affair, also addressed to the
Prince, was as follows: "We have lately ventured on extreme remedies
unto the dangers that threaten us amongst ourselves. Lord Wilmot, upon
Wednesday that was a s'ennight, was arrested prisoner on the head of
his army, and Goring declared General of the Horse.... There have been
since consultations and murmurings among his party, but the issue of
them was only this enclosed modest petition, which produced the answer
and declaration of the causes of his commitment; and so the business
rests. My Lord Percy also withdrawing himself upon good advice, and my
Lord Hopton being possessed of his charge, I make no doubt that all the
ill-humours in our army will be allayed, now that the two poles on
which they moved are taken away."[4]
But, though neither Wilmot nor Percy were estimable characters, Goring
was no better, and the result of these drastic measures was only to
render the state of Court and {156} Army more confused and more
factious than ever. Digby's partisans tried to lay the onus of
Wilmot's fall on Rupert, and Rupert's friends endeavoured to refer it
to Digby. Judging from Digby's own letter above quoted, Rupert, who
was absent from the King's army during the whole of the proceedings,
does not seem to have had much share in them. Certainly the Secretary
gives no hint of his collusion. "Lord Digby is the great agent to
incense the King," asserted Arthur Trevor. "My Lord Wilmot undertakes
to turn the tables on him, and so the wager is laid head to head.
Daniel O'Neil goeth his share in that hazard, for certainly the Lord
Digby hath undone his credit with the King... And truly I look upon
Daniel O'Neil as saved only out of want of leisure to dispose of him.
Prince Rupert and Will Legge are his severe enemies; and so is
Ashburnham."[5] Critical indeed was the position of the unlucky Daniel,
who had been so lately the "dear and intimate friend" of Digby. Owing,
as he explained to Ormonde, to "the unfortunate falling out of my two
best friends," he had fallen between two stools. Wilmot he considered
most to blame, for he had endeavoured to render Digby "odious to the
army and to all honest people."[6] The army had been on the very point
of petitioning against the Secretary when he forestalled the move by
the unexpected arrest of his adversary. "How guilty he will be, I know
not," was the conclusion of O'Neil. "But sure I am that the accusing
of him was not seasonable, and his commitment less... and two friends I
have lost!"[7] Wilmot himself seems to have directed his animus
principally against Rupert. He was unwilling to stand his trial, and
was therefore permitted to join the Queen, then in France. There he
found the Marquess of Newcastle, whom he hoped to secure as an ally
against the Prince. "I understand from one coming from Wilmot," wrote
{157} Trevor, "that he and the Marquess of Newcastle are preparing a
charge against Prince Rupert, and will be at the next advice of
Parliament at Oxford, where their party will be great,--the Marquess of
Hertford, Lord Herbert--you may guess the rest. Prince Rupert and
Daniel O'Neil are inconsistent in this state."[8]
The proposed accusation of Rupert was never made, and was probably a
figment of Wilmot's brain. Neither Hertford nor Herbert (with whom
Rupert had clashed as President of Wales) had any love for the Prince,
but they were both too loyal to increase the King's difficulties by
factious action. And indeed in the spring of 1645, we find Hertford,
Rupert, and Ashburnham in close alliance against Digby and Cottington;
the three first desiring a treaty with the Parliament, and the other
two opposing it. O'Neil was easily convinced that Wilmot owed his fall
to Rupert, and in October 1644 he wrote to Ormonde: "Prince Rupert,
whoe is nowe knowen to bee the primum mobile of that mischeef, iss
strangely unsatisfied with Wilmot's resolutione. For he thought to
make use of this occatione to ruine Lord Digby; but, his project
fayling, he plays the Courtier and iss reconsyled, whiche iss a great
hapines to the King."[9]
The truth was that, were the charges against them true or false, Wilmot
and Percy did really owe their downfall to the hatred of Rupert and
Digby. The Secretary had been the actual agent in the matter, but
Rupert approved and supported his action. The two were willing enough
to unite against their enemies, and they would have been equally
willing to ruin each other. But for a time Rupert endeavoured, for his
uncle's sake, to curb his hatred of the Secretary. In August the King
had exhorted his nephew earnestly to make friends with Digby; "whom I
must desire you (for my service, and because he is a useful servant) to
countenance so far as to show him a possibility to recover {158} your
favour, if he shall deserve it... Not doubting but, for my sake, ye
will make this, or a greater, experiment... I must protest to you, on
the faith of a Christian--the reason of this protest I refer to Robin
Legge--that as concerning your generosity and particular fidelity and
friendship to me, I have an implicit faith in you."[10] This
passionate protest was caused by the libels circulated against the
Prince, some of which had reached the King's ears. For a while Rupert
was pacified, and he made overtures of tolerance to Digby, who
responded fluently that his previous unhappiness as the object of
Rupert's aversion, would now serve only to increase his joy and
satisfaction in the Prince's confidence and friendship.[11] "Rupert
and Digby are friends; but I doubt they trust one another alike!"[12]
was the Prince's own view of the matter, as expressed to Will Legge.
Digby had also formed a close friendship with Goring, "each believing
that he could deceive the other." It was to Digby that Goring chiefly
owed his promotion, though it had been accorded the approval of Rupert,
who was inclined, just then, to tolerate Goring. Nor was George Goring
backward in receiving overtures of peace. "My Prince," he wrote to
Rupert familiarly, and he signed himself, "your Highness's all-vowed,
all-humble, all-obedient Goring." Moreover, having made up his mind
never to serve under Rupert again, he took care to add, "there is
nothing on this earth I more passionately desire than to sacrifice my
life in your service, and near your person."[13] But the truce could
not last. Rupert, as Commander-in-Chief and Governor of Bristol, had a
double power in the West, and Goring was determined to escape from his
control. In January 1645, we find him writing with unwonted candour:
"Your Highness is pleased to think yourself disobliged by me for {159}
desiring my orders under the King's hand. As I remember, Sir, the
reason I gave His Majesty for it was the having more authority by that
to guide the Council of this army to obedience; _but one reason I kept
to myself_, which was that I found all my requests denied by your hand,
and therefore desired my orders from another."[14]
The Prince of Wales had by this time been sent to Bristol as nominal
General of the Western army, with a selection of the King's Councillors
to assist him. The conflicting Borders of Rupert, Prince Charles's
Council, and the King, gave Goring an excellent excuse for disobeying
all. In March, Rupert indignantly desired Legge to ask the King
whether he had authorised that Council to send orders to Goring, and
added cautiously, "Let Sir Edward Herbert be by, he can argue better
than you."[15] A few days later he visited his young cousin at
Bristol, and advised him to send Goring with his horse into Wiltshire,
or with his foot to besiege Taunton. Prince Charles sent orders as
directed, but Goring, knowing them to emanate from Rupert, retired to
Bath, and refused to do anything at all. Rupert now thoroughly
"abhorred" the notion of Goring's proximity to the Prince of Wales, and
had him recalled to Oxford. But there his friendship with Digby, and
his own natural powers, won him so much influence with the King, that
Rupert was soon as eager to send him back into the West as Goring was
to escape from the Prince's vicinity. Thus their "very contrary
affections towards each other,"[16] worked to one end. There was a
second truce. Rupert told Goring, no doubt with some pleasure, all the
evil that the Council of the West had said concerning him; and Goring
returned the compliment, with notes and additions. Goring was given
the command of all the West, whither he gladly departed. "Goring and
Prince Rupert are now friends," wrote {160} Trevor, "but I doubt the
building being made of green wood, which is apt to warp and yield!"[17]
As proved ere long to be the case.
We return now to the autumn of 1644. Rupert's wanderings had brought
him, by the end of August, to Bristol, whither he was pursued by
doleful reports from his officers left in the Marches.
"My most dear Prince," wrote Legge from Chester, "in truth Your
Highness's departure sent me back here a sad man, and the news I met
with gave me new cause of trouble.... I despair of any good in
Lancashire."[18] And in Cheshire itself, Byron and Langdale had just
suffered a defeat from Massey. "Upon the spot where Your Highness
killed the buck, as the horse were drawing out,"[19] explained Byron
with careful exactness. These new misfortunes increased Rupert's
melancholy, which was already deep enough. Something of his state of
mind may be gathered from a sympathetic and consolatory letter written
to him at this time by Richmond.
"Though I was very much pleased for myself with the honour and favour I
had by yours from Bristol, yet I must confess, it takes not all
unquietness from me. The melancholy you express must be a discontent,
for my mind which has so much respect must partake of the trouble of
yours. And I should be more restless if I did believe your present sad
opinion would be long continued, or that there were just cause for it.
All mistakes, I am confident, will wane, when the King can speak with
power! I shall not prejudice that _eclairissement_ by being tedious
beforehand. Yet I will say that, though an intention (to that purpose)
was not the cause of your coming sooner to the King, you could not have
resolved better by the King's good at this time. So in your own
understanding {161} you must consent that even from those actions which
are the most retired from an appearance (of it) blessings spring. How
great this will be when Rupert makes it his care, as formerly our hope,
measure by joy (_sic_). This I conclude doth certainly engage Rupert
to know how great good he may bring the King, which must also assure
Rupert of the love, value, and trust the King must have of him. This
mutual satisfaction will prove happy to themselves, and to all who
respect either, as I do both!"[20] The Duke's friendly attempt to
console the Prince for past misfortunes, restore his self-confidence,
and reassure him of the King's trust and affection seems to have
succeeded. Rupert roused himself, and set out, September 29th, to meet
the King at Sherborne in Dorset. Charles was just then returning from
his successful expedition to Cornwall, and Waller had been despatched
by the Parliament to intercept him. Rupert extracted from his uncle a
promise not to fight until he could rejoin him, and hastened back to
fortify Bristol. But the perilous condition of two Royalist garrisons,
those of Basing House, and Donnington Castle, made delay impossible.
The King sent peremptory orders to Rupert to join him at Salisbury with
all the force he could muster. But, before Rupert could obey, Goring,
"possessed by a great gaiety,"[21] had drawn Charles into the second
unfortunate battle of Newbury. Rupert, making all possible haste,
reached Marshfield near Bristol, the day after the battle, October
28th. There he learnt that the King had been defeated at Newbury, and
was now at Bath. Maurice, it was feared, was dead or a prisoner. Upon
this, Rupert asserted, oddly as it seems, that his brother was quite
safe; and so it proved, for he was discovered at Donnington Castle.[22]
Both Princes joined the King at Bath, and thence, by Rupert's advice,
marched to Oxford. At Newbury they {162} again encountered Waller and
Cromwell, but refused battle, and Rupert succeeded in drawing off his
forces without losing one man. The dexterous retreat was compared by
one of the young nobles to a country dance.[23] On November 21st
Rupert made a vain attempt to recover Abingdon, which was now possessed
for the Parliament; and on the 23rd he entered Oxford with the King.
During the march, the Prince had finally received that appointment of
Master of the Horse concerning which he had entertained so many doubts.
At the same time he was declared Commander-in-Chief in place of the old
Lord Brentford, who had become very deaf, and who "by the
long-continued practice of immoderate drinking, dozed in his
understanding."[24] The change was exceedingly popular with the
soldiers, but exceedingly distasteful to the courtiers and councillors.
Brentford had always been willing to permit discussion, only feigning
unusual deafness when he was strongly averse to the proposals made.
But Rupert showed himself "rough and passionate,"[25] cut short debate
whenever possible, and endeavoured to carry all with a high hand. In
addition to the promotion already conferred on him, he had expected the
colonelcy of the Life-Guards, and when this was bestowed on Lord
Bernard Stewart, the Prince felt himself so unreasonably injured "that
he was resolved to lay down his command upon it."[26] He did in fact
go the length of demanding a pass to quit the kingdom, but happily the
persuasions of his friends brought him to a wiser state of mind, and he
apologised for his folly. Another fruitless attempt on Abingdon closed
the military proceedings of the year.
The chief events of the winter months were the Treaty {163} of
Uxbridge, and the forming of the Parliament's new model army. The
negotiation of January 1645 was due to Scottish influence, and though
many of the Royalists were eager to come to terms, the religious
question proved, as always, an insuperable obstacle. Moreover, it was
quite impossible for Charles to accept the long list of excepted
persons "who shall expect no pardon," which was headed by the names of
his own nephews. The Princes themselves appear to have been infinitely
amused by the circumstance, for it is recorded by Whitelocke, himself
one of the Parliamentary Commissioners: "Prince Rupert and Prince
Maurice being present, when their names were read out as excepted
persons, they fell into a laughter, at which the King seemed
displeased, and bid them be quiet."[27]
In spite of this incident, Rupert forwarded the treaty by all means in
his power. He had been one of the first to meet the Commissioners on
their arrival. They had gone, on the same day, to visit Lord Lindsey,
and ten minutes after their entrance Rupert had put in an appearance,
privately summoned by their host, as the Commissioners suspected. He
had been present at all the discussions of the treaty, occasionally
speaking to remind the King of some forgotten point, but otherwise
keeping silence;[28] and when the treaty ultimately collapsed, the
Prince "deeply deplored" its failure. He understood only too well the
weakness of the King's resources, and the growing strength of the
Parliament. The new model army, from which all incompetent officers
were excluded, and which was to resemble in strength and discipline,
Cromwell's own "lovely Company" was rapidly being developed. And as
the power of the Parliament waxed, that of the King waned. Goring,
brilliant, careless, valiant, and self-indulgent was losing the West by
his negligence, and alienating it by his oppressions. Nor were matters
much better elsewhere. Maurice had {164} succeeded his brother in the
care of Wales and the Marches, though without his title of President.
His advent had been eagerly welcomed by the despondent Byron, but he
was incompetent to deal with the difficulties that beset him. From
Worcester, where he was established, he sent helpless appeals to Rupert
for advice and assistance. In January he demanded an enlargement of
his commission. "I desire no further latitude than the same from you
that you had from the King,"[29] he told his brother discontentedly.
He had promised a commission to the gentlemen of Staffordshire, which
he had not the power to grant them, "though I would not let them know
as much," he confessed, with youthful vanity.[30] Very shortly a
serious misfortune befell him in the betrayal of Shrewsbury to the
Parliament.--"A disaffected town with only a garrison of burghers, and
a doting old fool of a Governor,"[31] it had been called by Byron,
whose language was usually forcible.--And Maurice's difficulties were
further increased by the wholesale desertion of his men.
The exhaustion of the country was making it harder than ever to find
food and quarters for the soldiers. In Dorsetshire the peasants were
already rising, under the name of "Clubmen," to oppose the
encroachments of both armies. And the Royalist officers disputed among
themselves over the supplies wrung from the impoverished country. From
Camden, Colonel Howard simply returned Rupert's order to share his
district with another regiment, "resolving to keep nothing by me that
shall hang me," he explained; and he went on to assert that even his
rival colonel "blushed to see the unreasonableness" of the Prince's
order. "What horrid crime have I committed, or what brand of cowardice
lies upon me and my men that we are not thought worthy of a
subsistence? Shall the Queen's seventy horse have {165} Westmester
hundred, Tewkesbury hundred, and God knows what other hundreds, and yet
share half with me in Rifsgate, who has, at this very present, a
hundred horse and five hundred foot, besides a multiplicity of
officers? Sir, at my first coming hither, the gentry of these parts
looked upon me as a man considerable, and had already raised me sixty
horse towards a hundred, and a hundred foot, and were continuing to
raise me a greater number. But at the sight of this order of your
Highness I resolved to disband them, and to come to Oxford where I'll
starve in more security. But finding my Lieutenant-Colonel forced to
come to your Highness and to tell his sad condition, I find him so well
prepared with sadness of his own, that I cannot but think he will
deliver my grievances rarely. As I shall find myself encouraged by
your Highness, I will go on and raise more forces. Ever submitting all
my proceedings to your Highness's orders--_bar starving, since I am
resolved to live._"[32]
Not more cheering was the report of Sir Jacob Astley, then at
Cirencester. "After manie Scolisietationes by letters and mesendgeres,
sent for better payment of this garrison, and to be provided with men,
arms and ammonition for ye good orderinge and defence of this place, I
have received no comfort at all. So y^t in littel time our
extreameties must thruste the souldieres eyther to disband, or mutiny,
or plunder, and then y^e faulte will be laid to my charge. Gode sende
y^e Kinge mor monne, and me free from blame and imputation."[33]
Rupert had little comfort to give, and no money at all, but he answered
the old soldier with the respect and consideration which he always
showed him. In earlier days old Astley had been Governor to Rupert and
Maurice, and to him they probably owed much that was good in them.
Rupert, in consequence, never treated Astley in the peremptory fashion
that he used with others. "For {166} such precise orders as you seem
to desire, I must deal freely with you, you are not to expect them," he
wrote to his old Governor; "we being not such fit judges as you upon
the place... I should be very loath, by misjudging here, to direct
that which you should find inconvenient there."[34]
Such phrases contrast strongly with the Prince's usual high-handed
procedure, of which we find the King himself complaining at this very
time. "Indeed it surprised me a little this morning," he wrote to his
nephew, "when Adjutant Skrimshaw told me that you had given him a
commission to be Governor of Lichfield without ever advising with me,
or even giving me notice of it;--for he told me as news, and not by
your command. I know this proceeds merely out of a hasty forgetfulness
and want of a little thinking, for if you had called to mind the late
dispute between the Lord Loughborough and Bagot, that is dead, you
would have advised more than you have done, both of the person, and the
manner of doing it; and then, it may be, you would have thought George
Lisle fitter for it than him you have chosen. Upon my word I have
taken notice of this to none but this bearer, with whom I have spoken
reasonable freely, by which you may perceive that this is freedom and
nothing else, that makes me write thus, expecting the same from you to
your loving Oncle."[35] Whether Rupert did or did not resent the
reproof does not appear, but the King proved right, and Skrimshaw
quarrelled with Loughborough no less than Bagot had done.
Perilous as was the condition of the Royalists on all sides, the
condition of Wales seemed the most desperate, and thither Rupert
hastened in the March of 1645. He took his way first to Ludlow, where
he hoped to raise new forces, and a few days later he joined Maurice at
Ellesmere. Thence he wrote despondently to Legge, dwelling on the
great numbers of the enemy, and exhorting him to see that {167} the
Oxford army held Monmouthshire in check. "I am going about a nobler
business," he added, "therefore pray God for me; and remember me to all
my friends."[36] But by the 14th he had got an army together, and his
spirits were marvellously revived. "We are few, but shrewd fellows as
ever you saw. Nothing troubles us but that Prince Charles is in worse
(condition), and pray God he were here. I expect nothing but ill from
the West; let them hear that Rupert says so." (This was for Goring's
benefit.) "As for Charles Lucas' business, assure the King that
nothing was meant but that it should be conceded by Lord Hopton; but
his lieutenant, Slingsby, is a rogue. I have enough against him to
prove him so, when time shall be. This enclosed will show you a fine
business concerning my cousin the Bishop of York. Pray acquaint His
Majesty with it, it concerns him. Martin's man carried a letter to you
from Stowe, which you did receive, and one for Sir Edward Herbert.
Pray remember me to him, and to all my friends, and inquire about the
letter; you'll find knavery in it. Prince Charles wrote to me about
Mark Trevor; I denied it (_i.e._ refused) as well as I could: he goes
to him. Cheshire will not prosper. (Maurice was there.) Your company
is here, so is your friend Rupert."[37]
The allusion to the Archbishop of York shows that Rupert had already
detected the intrigues of that warlike and treacherous prelate. He had
fortified and defended his castle of Conway, but quarrelled incessantly
with all the Royalist officers in the district, and eventually he
admitted the enemy to his castle. At the date of the above letter he
was following the example of Digby, and trying to sow dissension
between Ormonde and Rupert. Cheshire and Wales, he declared, lay "all
neglected and in confusion", owing to the private quarrels of Rupert's
"favourite", Legge, and the Byrons, whom he represented as {168}
"thrown out of their governments, abandoned by the King, and left to
die in prison."[38] The Byrons themselves do not appear to have made
any such complaints; and a sentence in one of Lord Byron's letters to
the Prince seems to deprecate the reports spread by the Archbishop. "I
heard," he says, "that Your Highness was informed that, in your
absence, I showed most disrespect to those you most honour. This is
very far from the truth, as it ever shall be from the practice of your
most humble and most obliged servant, Byron."[39]
And in spite of the Archbishop's hostility Rupert's efforts in the
Marches were attended by success. On the 19th of April, having been
rejoined by Maurice, he forced Brereton to raise his siege of Beeston
Castle, which had endured for seventeen weeks. A few days later he was
engaged in suppressing a revolt in Herefordshire, where the peasants
were rising like the clubmen of Dorset. Most of them fled before the
Prince, but two hundred stood their ground, of these Rupert took the
leaders, and persuaded the rest to lay down their arms; he was anxious,
if possible, to conciliate the people rather than to suppress them by
force.[40] No sooner was this task accomplished than Astley arrived
with the news that a Parliamentary force, under Massey, was at Ledbury.
Without an instant's delay Rupert set out, marched all night, and
attacked and routed Massey in the morning, April 22nd. From Ledbury he
went to Hereford, where he remained some days before returning to
Oxford.
It was at this time that Rupert performed the stern act of retaliation,
which so roused the wrath of the Parliament. The King's importation of
Irish soldiers had been regarded by the Puritans as a gross aggravation
of all his other {169} crimes. They chose to regard all the Irish as
responsible for the massacre of the Protestants which had occurred in
Ireland in 1641, and in accordance with this view they gave them no
quarter. In March 1645 Essex happened to take thirteen Irish troopers,
whom he hanged without mercy; and Rupert immediately retaliated by the
execution of thirteen Roundhead prisoners. Essex thereupon wrote an
indignant letter, reproaching the Prince for his barbarous and inhuman
conduct, to which Rupert responded in a letter "full of haughtiness",
that since Essex had "barbarously murdered" his men, "in cold blood,
after quarter given", he would have been unworthy of his command had he
not let the Puritans know that their own soldiers "must pay the price
of such acts of inhumanity."[41] The Parliament then took upon itself
to remonstrate at great length, but received only a concise and decided
reply from the Prince's secretary:
"I am, by command, to return you this answer. You gave the first
example in hanging such prisoners as were taken, and thereupon the same
number of yours suffered in like manner. If you continue this course
you cannot, in reason, but expect the like return. But, if your
intention be to give quarter, and to exchange prisoners upon equal
terms, it will not be denied here."[42] The Prince's resolute attitude
had the desired effect, and the Puritans were forced to recognise
Irishmen as human beings.
In contrast with this incident, we find a frantic appeal to the Prince
for mercy, dated April 28. A young Royalist officer--Windebank--had
most unjustifiably surrendered Blechingdon House, of which he was
Governor, and by a court-martial held at Oxford he was doomed to die.
Poor Windebank was no coward, but he had acted in a moment of panic,
engendered by the terror of his young wife, and it was on his behalf
that Sir Henry Bard now pleaded with {170} Rupert. "The letter
enclosed was sent to me from Oxford, to be conveyed with all speed
possible. Pray God it comes time enough! It concerns a most
unfortunate man, Colonel Windebank. Sir, pity him and reprieve him!
It was God's judgment on him, and no cowardice of his own. At the
battle of Alresford he gave a large testimony of his courage, and if
with modesty I may bring in the witness, I saw it, and there began our
acquaintance. Oh, happy man had he ended then! Sir, let him but live
to repair his honour, of which I know he is more sensible than are the
damned of the pains of hell."[43] Rupert had saved Fielding, and he
would in all probability have saved Windebank had it been possible.
But, alas, Bard's letter was intercepted by the Parliament and never
reached its destination! And Windebank died on May 3rd, the day before
Rupert reached Oxford.
The King was about to begin his last campaign, and he therefore
summoned both his nephews to his side. The two Princes reached Oxford
on May 4th, after an extraordinarily rapid march, and three days later,
the King set out for Woodstock, leaving Will Legge behind him as
Governor of Oxford. Danger was on every side. The Scots dominated the
North; the West was falling rapidly away, and Cromwell's new army
threatened that of the King. At starting, Charles had but 1,100 men,
but before a month was past, Rupert had doubled their number. Digby
and the Court party would fain have joined with Goring in the west, but
Rupert, "spurred on by the northern horse, who violently pursued their
desires of being at home,"[44] was eager for the North. For the moment
his star was in the ascendant, and, to Digby's disgust, the King
yielded. "All is governed by Prince Rupert who grows a great
Courtier," reported Arthur Trevor. "But whether his power be not
supported by the present occasion is a question to {171} ask a
conjuror. Certainly the Lord Digby loves him not."[45] At Evesham,
which was reached on the 9th, Rupert gave new offence to the Court by
making Robin Legge, Will's brother, Governor of that town, in defiance
of the wishes of the Council. Moving slowly northwards through the
Midlands, he took Hawkesly House near Bromsgrove; on the following day
he was at Wolverhampton. On the 27th both he and the King were the
guests of the Hastings, at Ashby de la Zouch, and on the 29th Rupert
"laye in the workes before Leycester."[46] By his skill and energy,
this town was taken in two days, and the triumph not only revived the
drooping spirits of the Cavaliers, but won them material advantages in
the way of arms and ammunition. It was believed that Derby would have
surrendered on a summons, but Rupert would not take the chance. Should
it refuse his summons, he maintained, "out of punctilio of honour" he
would be forced to lay siege to it, which he had not means to do.[47]
Willingly would he have pressed on northwards, but Fairfax was
threatening Oxford, and the civilians, always anxious to keep the army
in the south, clamoured loudly of the danger of the Duke of York, the
Council, the Stores, and all the fair ladies of the Court. The said
ladies also "earnestly by letter, solicited Prince Rupert to their
rescue."[48] Reluctantly he faced southwards. But the danger of
Oxford was less imminent than had been represented; Fairfax retired
from before it. Then the contest of Rupert against Digby, the soldier
against the civilian was renewed. "There was a plot to send the King
to Oxford, but it is undone," the Prince wrote to his "dear Will."
"The chief of the counsel was the fear that some men had that the
soldiers would take from them the influence they now possess with the
King."[49]
{172}
It was in accordance with the perversity of Charles's fate that just
when the Parliamentary army had thrown off civilian shackles, he was
ceasing to be ruled by the military counsels of his nephew. Rupert
again urged a march to the North. Digby and the Councillors of Oxford,
ever eager to keep the army in the South, recommended an attack on the
Eastern counties. The King remained at Daventry hesitating between the
two counsels, and in the meantime Fairfax and Cromwell were advancing
towards him. Rupert's unaccountable contempt for the New Model Army
prevented him from taking the proper precautions, and he remained
absolutely ignorant of Fairfax's movements, until he was quartered
eight miles from Daventry. Then the King decided to move towards
Warwick, and that night he slept at Lubenham, Rupert at Harborough. On
the same evening Ireton surprised and captured a party of Rupert's men,
as they were playing at quoits in Naseby. A few who escaped, fled to
warn the King, and the King hastened to Rupert. With unwonted
prudence, Rupert advised retreat; reinforcements might be found at
Leicester and Newark, and there was yet a hope that Goring might march
to their aid. He did not know, as Fairfax knew through an intercepted
despatch, that Goring was unable to leave the West. But Digby and
Ashburnham were for fighting, and once again the civilian triumphed.
On June 14th took place the fatal battle of Naseby.
Very early the royal army was drawn up upon a long hill which runs two
miles south of Harborough. Here Astley intended the battle to be
fought, resolving to keep on the defensive. But the enemy did not
appear, and Rupert, growing impatient, sent out his scout master to
look for them, about eight o'clock in the morning. The man returned,
after a perfunctory search, saying that Fairfax was not to be seen.
Then Rupert, unable to bear inaction any longer, rode out to look for
him in person, with a small party of horse. At Naseby he found the
whole army of the Parliament. {173} It was just then engaged in
shifting its position, and Rupert jumped to the conclusion that it was
in full retreat. Lured on by this idea, he established himself on a
piece of rising ground to the right, and summoned the rest of the army
from its well-chosen position to join him there. This was perhaps the
chief cause of the defeat that followed. Rupert and Maurice charged
together on the right, and swept the field before them, till they
reached the enemy's cannon and baggage waggons. Here Rupert was
mistaken for Fairfax, for both were wearing red cloaks, and some of the
Puritan reserve rode up, asking, "How goes the day?" The Prince
responded by an offer of quarter, which was met by a volley of musket
shot. But Rupert could not stay to complete his conquest. His part of
the battle had been won, but behind him Cromwell had scattered the
Royalist left, and was trampling the infantry of the centre in "a
dismal carnage."[50] The King was turned from the battle too soon, his
whole army was disheartened and overwhelmed, and Rupert returned too
late, to find Cromwell in possession of the field. The Royal army was
destroyed, and the war almost at an end. That night the King retreated
to Ashby, and the next day, Sunday, he reached Lichfield, whence he
hastened on to Raglan Castle. Rupert went on westward to the Prince of
Wales at Barnstaple.
His departure from the King was due to a new quarrel with Digby, who
attributed the disaster to the fault of the Prince. "Let me know what
is said among you, concerning our last defeat," Rupert wrote to Legge,
at Oxford; "doubtless the fault of it will be put upon me... Since
this business I find Digby hath omitted nothing which might prejudice
me, and this day hath drawn a letter from the King to Prince Charles,
in which he crosses all things that befell here in my behalf. I have
showed this to the King, and in earnest; and if thereupon he should go
on {174} and send it, I shall be forced to quit Generalship and march
towards Prince Charles, where I have received more kindness than
here."[51] At the same time, Legge received a long account of the
battle from Digby himself, in which the Secretary, very cleverly,
charged all the misfortune of the day to the Prince, while pretending
to acquit him. "I am sure that Prince Rupert hath so little kindness
for me, as I daily find he hath, it imports both to me and mine to be
much the more cautious not to speak anything that may be wrested to his
prejudice. I can but lament my misfortune that Prince Rupert is
neither gainable nor tenable by me, though I have endured it with all
the industry, and justness unto him in the world, and I lament your
absence from him. Yet, at least, if Prince Rupert cannot be better
inclined to me, that you might prevail with him so far that his heats,
and misapprehensions of things may not wound his own honour, and
prejudice the King's service. I am very unhappy that I cannot speak
with you, since the discourse that my heart is full of is too long for
a letter, and not of a nature fit for it. But I conjure you, if you
preserve that justice and kindness for me which I will not doubt, if
you hear anything from Prince Rupert concerning me, suspend your
judgment. As for the particular aspersion upon him, which you mention,
of _fighting against advice, he is very much wronged in it_, ... and
for particular time, place and circumstance of our fighting that day,
His Highness cannot be said to have gone against my Lord Astley, or any
other advice; _for I am confident no man was asked upon the
occasion_,--I am sure no council was called. I shall only say this
freely to you, that I think a principal occasion of our misfortune was
the want of you with us.... But really, dear Will, I do not write this
with reflection, for indeed we were all carried on at that time with
such a spirit and confidence of victory as though he that should have
said {175} "consider" would have been your foe. Well, let us look
forward! Give your Prince good advice, as to caution, and value of
counsel, and God will yet make him an instrument of much happiness to
the King, and Kingdom, and that being, I will adore him as much as you
love him."[52] But "Honest Will" was quite shrewd enough to read
between the lines of this elaborate epistle, and he answered with a
spirit and candour worthy of his character. "I am extremely afflicted
to understand from you that Prince Rupert and yourself should be upon
so unkindly terms, and I protest, I have cordially endeavoured, with
all my interest in His Highness, to incline him to a friendship with
your Lordship, conceiving it a matter of advantage to my Master's
service, to have a good intelligence between persons so eminently
employed in his affairs, and likewise the great obligation and
inclination I had to either of you. But truly, my Lord, I often found
this a hard matter to hold between you; and your last letter gives me
cause to think that your Lordship _is not altogether free from what he
accused you of_, as the reason of his jealousies. Which was that you
both say and do things to his prejudice, _contrary to your professions,
and not in an open and direct line, but obscurely and obliquely_; and
this, under your Lordship's pardon, I find your letter very full of.
For where your Lordship would excuse him of the particular and general
aspersions, yet you come with such objections against the conduct of
that business, as would, to men ignorant of the Prince, make him
incapable of common-sense in his profession. For my part, my Lord, I
am so well acquainted with the Prince's ways, that I am confident all
his General officers and commanders knew beforehand how, and in what
manner, he intended to fight; and when, as you say, all mankind were of
opinion to fight, it was his part to put it into execution. Were any
man in the army dissatisfied in his directions, {176} or in the order,
he ought to have informed the General of it, and to have received
further satisfaction. And for the not calling of a Council at that
instant, truly, the Prince having before laid his business, were there
need of it, the blame must be as much yours as any man's." And, after
a great deal more to the same purpose, Legge concludes with the stout
declaration, "and assure yourself you are not free from great blame
towards Prince Rupert. And no man will give you this free language at
a cheaper rate than myself, though many discourse of it."[53]
[1] Clarendon, Bk. VII. p. 96, _note_.
[2] King to Rupert, 26 May, 1644. Rupert Correspondence. Add. MSS.
18981
[3] Warburton, III. p. 16.
[4] Add. MSS. 18981. Digby to Rupert, Aug. 15, 1644.
[5] Carte's Letters, I. 63. 13 Sept. 1644.
[6] Carte's Ormonde, IV. 190. 13 Aug. 1644.
[7] Ibid.
[8] Carte's Ormonde. VI. 206. 13 Oct. 1644.
[9] Ibid. Vol. VI. 203. 3 Oct. 1644.
[10] Add. MSS. 18981. King to Rupert, Aug. 30, 1644.
[11] Ibid. Sept. 23, 1644. Digby to Rupert.
[12] Rupert to Legge. Oct. 16, 1644. Warburton, III. p. 27.
[13] Warburton, II. 172, and III. 16.
[14] Warburton, III. p. 52.
[15] Warburton, III. p. 73. Rupert to Legge, Mar. 31, 1645.
[16] Clarendon, Bk. IX. p. 30.
[17] Carte's Letters, I. 86-87, 25 May, 1645.
[18] Warburton, III. p. 21.
[19] Ibid. p. 22.
[20] Rupert Transcripts. Richmond to Rupert, Sept. 14, 1644.
[21] Clarendon, Bk. VIII. p. 149.
[22] Warburton, III. p. 31.
[23] Warburton, III. p. 32.
[24] Clar. Hist. Bk. VIII. p. 29.
[25] Ibid. p. 108.
[26] Warburton, III. p. 32, and Rupert's Journal, Nov. 15, 1644,
Clarendon Papers.
[27] Whitelocke. ed. 1732. p. 114.
[28] Ibid.
[29] Maurice to Rupert, Jan. 29, 1645. Warb. III. p. 54.
[30] Warburton, III. p. 54. Maurice to Rupert, Jan. 29, 1645.
[31] Rupert Transcripts. Byron to Rupert, 14 Jan. 1644.
[32] Warburton, III. p. 56-7. Howard to Rupert, Jan. 30, 1645.
[33] Rupert Transcripts. Astley to Rupert, Jan. 11, 1645. Pythouse
Papers, p. 20.
[34] Domestic State Papers. Rupert to Astley. Jan. 13, 1645.
[35] Rupert Transcripts. King to Rupert, Jan. 1645.
[36] Warburton, III. p. 68. Rupert to Legge, Mar. 11, 1645.
[37] Ibid. p. 69, Mar. 24, 1645.
[38] Carte's Ormonde, VI. 271-272. Archbishop Williams to Ormonde,
Mar. 25, 1655.
[39] Add. MSS. 18982. Byron to Rupert, Jan. 1645.
[40] Webb, Vol. II. pp. 141, 157, 178.
[41] Webb. II. pp. 146-147.
[42] Gilbert's History of the Irish Confederation, Vol. IV. p. XIV.
Ralph Goodwin to Houses of Parliament, Mar. 23, 1645.
[43] Dom. State Papers. Bard to Rupert, Ap. 28, 1645.
[44] Walker's Historical Discourses, ed. 1705, pp. 126, 129.
[45] Carte's Letters, I. 90, May 25, 1645.
[46] Clarendon State Papers, Rupert's Journal, May 29, 1645.
[47] Walker, p. 128.
[48] Walker, p. 128.
[49] Warburton, III. p. 100. Rupert to Legge, June 8, 1645.
[50] Sir Edward Southcote. Troubles of our Catholic Forefathers.
Series I. p. 392.
[51] Warburton. III. pp. 119-121. Rupert to Legge, June 18, 1645.
[52] Warburton. III. pp. 125-128. Digby to Legge. No date.
[53] Warburton, III. pp. 128-131. Legge to Digby, June 30, 1645.
{177}