COMMAND IN THE FRENCH ARMY. COURTSHIP OF MADEMOISELLE. DUELS WITH
DIGBY AND PERCY
Sometime before the end of the war the Queen of England had fled to
France, and had set up her court at that home of Royal exiles,--St.
Germains! There she had been joined by her son, the Prince of Wales,
and by many English Cavaliers; and thither went Rupert in July 1646.
"If thou see Prince Rupert," wrote King Charles anxiously to his wife,
"tell him that I have recommend him unto thee. For, albeit his
passions may sometimes make him mistake, yet I am confident of his
honest constancy and courage, having at the last behaved himself very
well."[1] Henrietta, convinced by her husband's words, or forgetful of
the reproaches she had so recently heaped upon her nephew, received
Rupert graciously, and to the Prince of Wales he was of course very
welcome.
Nor was his reception at the French court less cordial. The Queen
Regent, impressed by his romantic history and famous courage, showered
marks of her favour upon him; and Mazarin, the true ruler of France, at
once offered him a command in the French army, "upon whatever
conditions of preferment or advantage he could desire."[2] Rupert
hesitated to accept the flattering offer, without his Uncle's sanction.
"Prince Rupert had several assurances by the mouth of the Duke of
Orleans, Cardinal Mazarin and others, of the charge of the foreign
forces mentioned in my last," says a letter in the Portland MSS., "but
I am informed {214} he defers to accept the commission of it, until he
hears his Uncle, the King of Great Britain, doth approve it; which
deference is well taken here."[3]
Apparently Charles expressed approval of the arrangement, for Rupert
finally entered the French service, reserving to himself the right of
quitting it whenever his Uncle should need him. He was immediately
given the rank of Field-Marshal, with a regiment of foot, a troop of
horse, and a commission to command all the English in France. The
Cavaliers, exiled and destitute, eagerly embraced the opportunity of
serving under their Prince, and Rupert had no difficulty in raising a
large corps, more especially as the conditions of service were
exceptionally good. Among those who applied for a commission was the
ever plausible Goring, but he found himself promptly refused, and
thereupon took service under Spain.
The summer of 1647 found Rupert fighting his old enemies the Spaniards,
in Northern France, and on the borders of Flanders. The campaign was a
desultory one, in which little was effected, owing partly to the
jealousies of the French officers, who were little more in concord than
those of the English army had been. The two Marshals, Rantzau and
Gassion, detested each other, and Gassion, at least, was exceedingly
jealous of Rupert's reputation. His conduct throughout the campaign
was, if not treacherous, extremely eccentric and he seems to have
deserved the name of "that madman" bestowed on him by Rantzau.
They marched first to the relief of Armentieres, and, on their arrival
near the town, Gassion invited Rupert to come and "view the enemy"
accordingly they set out alone, and advanced some way down the river,
concealing themselves behind the sheltering hedges. Then Gassion,
directing the Prince to stay behind until he called him, proceeded
alone to a little house on the river bank. In the meantime some {215}
Spanish soldiers came down in a boat, and landed by the house. Rupert
saw them clearly, but dared not warn his comrade lest they should hear
him sooner than could Gassion. Luckily the French Marshal was equal to
the emergency. He was wearing a Spanish coat, and when he came face to
face with the Spanish soldiers, he had the presence of mind to address
them in their own language, and as though he were one of their
officers. This so surprised them that they stood still, staring; and
Gassion, with more prudence than dignity, took to his heels. In spite
of the enemy's fire, he regained the hedge, and Rupert, coming to meet
him, pulled him over the ditch. "Mort Dieu!" gasped the Marshal. "Ca
m'arrive toujours!" To which Rupert retorted in the dry manner which
he seems to have usually assumed towards Gassion, "Je n'en doute point,
si vous faites souvent comme ca." Both got safely away, but the battle
intended to relieve Armentieres never took place.[4] The Spaniards
numbered three times as many as the French: and when Gassion began to
draw out his troops next day, Rantzau flew to exhort Rupert to stop
such madness. The Prince thereupon urged Gassion to give up the idea
of battle; the army was withdrawn to Arras, and Armentieres fell to the
Spaniards.
On the retreat to Arras, Rupert was attacked by Piccolomini, in great
force. Again and again Rupert repulsed his charge, retreating slowly
all the time. Gassion, actuated by jealousy, sent an order to the
Prince to remain where he was; but Rupert, retorting fiercely that it
was the other Marshal's day of command, continued his retreat. After
that he despatched a formal complaint of Gassion's conduct to the Queen
Regent, who rebuked Gassion with the curious question--"Was he a
general or a Croat?"[5]
The Spaniards marched next to La Bassee, and Gassion there invited
Rupert to take another survey of their forces, {216} asking, "Are you
well mounted, Sir? Shall we go see the army?" Rupert assented, and
they started--not this time alone, but with three or four others in
their company. They had not gone far when they fell into an ambush of
foot soldiers, and perceived that a troop of Spanish horse was
following to cut off their retreat. Seeing this, they wheeled round,
and two of Rupert's gentlemen, Mortaigne and Robert Holmes, beat back a
troop of Spaniards who were crossing the rivulet between them and the
French. Both were hurt, Mortaigne in the hand and Holmes in the leg.
Mortaigne retired, but Holmes lay upon the ground, exposed to the
sweeping fire of the enemy. Rupert was retreating with the French,
but, seeing Holmes in this predicament, he turned and went calmly back
through the Spanish fire, with Mortaigne following him. With great
danger and difficulty he lifted Holmes on to his own horse, and brought
him safely off, "not a man of the French volunteers coming to his
assistance.[6]
In this inglorious campaign there seems to have been little save
retreats to record. An attempt to relieve Landrecies failed as that at
Armentieres had done, chiefly through the mistake, or treachery of a
guide. Rupert was told off to secure the retreat with three German
regiments and one of Croats. Continually skirmishing with the Spanish
horse, he had got through the first pass, when Gassion returned to him,
in great distress, saying that the cannon was stuck fast in the mud,
and would have to be abandoned. Rupert replied that, if he might have
the Picardy guards and a regiment of Swiss, he would not only make good
the retreat, but would also bring off the cannon. Gassion willingly
sent back the required troops, and Rupert made good his promise,
without losing a single man. This done, "he thought to have lain down
and refreshed himself," but an order came to march on to La Bassee, and
{217} he at once set out with the horse, leaving the foot to follow.
At La Bassee he won the only success that fell to the French in the
campaign. Reaching the town that night, he found that a relief of some
four hundred men, under Goring, had just been despatched thither by the
Spaniards; the opportunity was more than welcome. All Goring's men
were captured by Rupert's guards, and most of them, being English,
transferred their services to the Prince.[7] That same night Rupert
began his line round the town, and in less than three weeks it was his.
Gassion was furiously jealous. During the whole course of the siege,
he had refused to lend any aid whatever, and when the town was taken in
spite of him, his jealousy led him to play the Prince a very
treacherous trick. He invited him one morning to "take the air," and
Rupert, for the third time, agreed to accompany him. They went out
attended by a guard of eighty horse; but a peasant warned the Spaniards
of their whereabouts, and an ambush was laid to intercept their return.
As they came back, Rupert noticed a dog sitting with its back towards
him, and staring into the wood. The circumstance roused his
suspicions; he took off his cloak, threw it to his page, and pressing
after Gassion who was some yards ahead, cried: "Have a care, sir!
There is a party in that wood!" As he spoke the hidden enemy fired a
smart volley. Setting spurs to their horses, the French party broke
through it, losing only Rupert's page, who was taken, but courteously
released next day. No sooner were they through the fire than Gassion
faced about, saying: "Il faut rompre le col a ces coquins-la.--Pied a
terre!" He took his foot from his stirrup; and Rupert, naturally
understanding that they were to attack the ambush, dismounted. A few
officers followed his example, and thereupon Gassion marched off with
their horses, leaving them to face the difficulty as best {218} they
could. A sharp skirmish followed, in which Rupert received a shot in
the head, but he contrived to retreat after Gassion, who was calmly
waiting at some distance. The French General then expressed polite
regret for the accident: "Monsieur," he said, "je suis bien fache que
vous etes blesse!" To which Rupert replied, with crushing brevity: "Et
moi aussi!"[8]
This little skirmish ended an uneventful campaign, and Rupert returned
to St. Germains, "where he passed his next winter with as much
satisfaction as the tenderness he felt for his royal uncle's affairs
would permit."[9] King Charles was then a prisoner at Hampton Court,
whence he wrote a very affectionate letter to his nephew, sympathising
with him for his recent wound, and assuring him that, "next my
children, I say _next_, I shall have most care of you, and shall take
the first opportunity either to employ you, or to have your
company."[10]
Rupert was in the meanwhile, exerting himself in the service of the
Prince of Wales. It was the ambition of Henrietta to unite her eldest
son to her niece, the daughter of the Duke of Orleans, known as La
Grande Mademoiselle. This lady, as heiress of the Montpensiers, had
inherited an enormous fortune, which Henrietta desired to acquire for
her son's benefit. But young Charles did not care for his pompous
cousin, and, in order to avoid the trouble of love-making, declared
that he could not speak French. Though Rupert himself had obstinately
declined to mend his fortunes by marriage, he seems to have been very
anxious to overcome his cousin's contumacy. He became his interpreter,
in which _role_ he was obliged not merely to translate, but to invent
pretty speeches for the refractory Charles. The task was a difficult
one, for Mademoiselle was not stupid, and observed that when her
supposed lover {219} wished to discuss dogs and horses with the young
King of France he could speak French well enough.[11] Moreover,
neither Rupert nor Henrietta could make Prince Charles dance with his
cousin if he did not choose to do so. Mademoiselle pointed out his
neglect of her to Rupert, "who," says she, "immediately made me all the
excuses imaginable."[12] But neither Rupert's excuses, nor Henrietta's
protestations could bring the affair to the desired conclusion.
An occupation more natural and congenial to Rupert than making love on
behalf of an unwilling lover, was the settling of old scores, for which
he now found leisure and opportunity. It was not to be expected that
he should meet Digby peaceably, and when the Secretary arrived in
France in September 1647, a duel was universally expected. "My Lord
Digby, at his coming from Rouen towards Paris, received news of Prince
Rupert being, two nights before, come from the army to St. Germains,"
wrote O'Neil to Ormonde. "His Highness and his dependants being the
only persons from whom his Lordship could suspect any resentment, his
Lordship prepared himself by the best forethought he could for any
accident that night happen to him in that way."[13]
The Queen was resolved to prevent any such "accident," and to keep a
close watch over her nephew, to that end, but Rupert's prompt action
took her by surprise. On the morning after his arrival, while he was
yet in bed, Digby received the Prince's challenge. "About nine of the
clock," says O'Neil, "I came to the Lord Digby's chamber, being sent
for hastily by him. Who told me that Prince Rupert had, a little
before, sent him word, by M. de la Chapelle, that he expected him, with
his sword in his hand, at the {220} Cross of Poissy, a large league off
in the forest, with three in his company." Digby sent back word that
he was "highly sensible of the honour," and would come as soon as he
could get on his clothes, but feared that there would be an hour's
delay, since he had no horse, and was lame "in regard of a weakness in
his hurt leg." Rupert received this message "with much nobleness and
civility," and at once placed his own horse at Digby's service. By
that time rumours of the impending fray were afloat, and Jermyn was
sent by the Queen to remonstrate with Digby. But the only result of
Jermyn's intervention was to produce a quarrel between himself and
Digby, which determined him to attend the duel on Rupert's side. The
delay, however, had given the Queen time to act, and just as Digby set
foot in the stirrup, he was arrested by her Guards. The Prince of
Wales then rode into the forest, where he arrested Rupert and his
seconds, Gerard, Chapelle and Guatier. That evening, the Queen held an
inquiry into the cause of quarrel, which Rupert declared to be certain
private speeches made by Digby, and not his actions as Secretary of
State. The matter was therefore delivered to the arbitration of
Culpepper, Gerard, Wentworth and Cornwallis; and "His Highness was so
generous in not demanding or expecting from the Lord Digby anything
that might misbecome him, that the business was concluded that night,
in presence of the Queen and the Prince of Wales, much to the
satisfaction of all parties. Since which reconciliation," adds O'Neil,
"Prince Rupert has carried himself so nobly to the Lord Digby, and the
Lord Digby is so possessed with His Highness's generous proceedings
towards him, that I think, in my conscience, there is no man, at
present more heartily affected to His Highness's person and
service."[14]
Thus happily and unexpectedly ended the long feud. Rupert's resentment
was hot and passionate, but he could {221} always forego it graciously,
provided that advances were made from the other side. Nor were Digby's
protestations of friendship insincere; in proof of which he promptly
fought with and wounded Wilmot, because that gentleman had maligned the
Prince.[15]
Digby and Wilmot being thus disposed of, there remained Percy with whom
the Prince had yet to deal. Of this duel Rupert was resolved not to be
cheated, and he therefore dispensed with formality. Seizing his
opportunity on a hunting expedition, he rode up to Percy, and laying a
hand on his bridle, abruptly demanded "satisfaction." Percy retorted
angrily that he was quite ready to give it, and that the Prince's hold
on his bridle was unnecessary. Both then sprang from their horses and
drew their swords. Rupert "being as skilful with his weapon as
valiant," ran Percy through the side, at the second pass; they closed,
and both fell to the ground, Percy's hand being wounded in the fall.
Upon this, one of Prince Charles's gentlemen came in and separated
them, and so the affair ended, with advantage to Rupert. Report said,
afterwards, that the Prince had had the longer sword, but as in French
duelling law there was no rule about length of weapon, that fact could
not be held to affect the case in any way.[16]
This was the last of Rupert's adventures in France. Within a few weeks
an event occurred which recalled him to Holland, and gave him, once
more, the opportunity of serving his uncle, King Charles.
[1] Letters of Charles I. p. 58. Camden Society. 1st Series. King
to Queen, 5 Aug. 1646.
[2] Warburton, III. p. 236.
[3] Hist. MSS. Com. Rept 13. Portland MSS III. p. 150.
[4] Benett MSS. Warburton, III. pp. 238-9.
[5] Ibid. p. 240.
[6] Benett MSS. Warburton, III. p. 241.
[7] Benett MSS. Warburton, III. p. 243.
[8] Benett MSS. Warburton, III. pp. 244-247.
[9] Warburton. III. p. 246.
[10] Ibid. III. p. 248. King to Rupert, Sept. 27, 1647.
[11] Memoires de Mademoiselle de Montpensier. Michaud's Collections.
Vol. IV. p. 57.
[12] Ibid. pp. 35, 37.
[13] Carte's Letters, I. 152-156, 9 Oct. 1647.
[14] Carte Letters, I. 152-156. 9 Oct. 1647.
[15] Carte Letters. I. 152-156. 9 Oct. 1647.
[16] Hamilton Papers, p. 178. Camden Soc. New Series.
{222}