THE FLEET IN THE TAGUS. AT TOULON. THE VOYAGE TO THE AZORES. THE
WRECK OF THE "CONSTANT REFORMATION." ON THE AFRICAN COAST. LOSS OF
MAURICE IN THE "DEFIANCE." THE RETURN TO FRANCE
On quitting Ireland in November 1649, the Royalist fleet sailed
straight for the Spanish coast. Hyde was then at Madrid, as the
Ambassador of Charles II, and he pressed the Spaniards to grant the
Prince free ports. This they would not do, but they allowed him to
clean and victual his vessels upon their shores, until the arrival of
the Parliament fleet changed their attitude.[1] The Parliament had
despatched their Admiral Blake in pursuit of the Royalists, and Blake's
ships were better manned, better fitted up, and more numerous than
those of Rupert. In fear of Blake, the Spaniards ordered Rupert to
leave their coasts, and he took refuge in the Tagus. There he found a
generous reception. The King of Portugal, "a young man of great hope
and courage," sent an embassy to invite the two Princes to Lisbon, and
they were conducted, with much state, to Court. Further, the King
promised them all the protection in his power, gave them supplies and
provisions, the free use of his ports, and purchased their prizes.
"The King of Portugal gives Rupert all kind of assistance, and is
extreme kind and civil to him and Maurice. I pray you tell your Lord
this," wrote the Queen of Bohemia to her "dear cousin," the Duchess of
Richmond.[2] For a brief period the adventurous Princes enjoyed a {242}
prosperous tranquillity, but it was not to last. Good though were the
intentions of the young King, his Ministers feared the English
Parliament as much as did the Spaniards. Consequently, when Blake
arrived at the mouth of the Tagus and demanded the surrender of the
Princes and their fleet, dissension arose in the Court of Lisbon. The
young King was so indignant that he would fain have gone on board
Rupert's vessel to fight with Blake in person. This rash design was
prevented by the Queen Mother, and the King, yielding to his Ministers,
demanded three days' start for the Princes if they should put to sea.
This condition Blake would not grant, and the King therefore refused to
close his ports to the Royalists. The Count de Miro, who headed the
faction hostile to the Princes, then tried to embarrass Rupert by all
means in his power. He ordered the Portuguese merchants to pay for the
prizes purchased in goods and not in money, he tried to prevent Maurice
from gaining an audience with the King, and he actually succeeded in
preventing him from making an attack on Blake. "Hearing that Prince
Maurice intends to sail from our ports, with letters of marque against
Parliament ships, I beg it may not be done," was the concise and
explicit note received by Rupert.[3]
The Prince meanwhile gained allies against De Miro by an appeal to the
priests, who responded readily, preaching everywhere "how shameful a
thing it was for a Christian King to treat with rebels." He also won
the hearts of the populace, by hunting daily amongst them with all
confidence, and by his "liberality and complaisance to all sorts of
people." His exceeding popularity with priests and people intimidated
the hostile court faction, so that De Miro dared no longer urge
compliance with the demands of Blake.[4]
For some time Rupert remained in the Tagus, with Blake {243} awaiting
him outside. Occasionally, as in Holland, the sailors met on shore,
and with more fatal results. An ambush laid by Blake for the capture
of Rupert while hunting, resulted in the defeat of the
Parliamentarians, with the loss of nine of their men. In revenge,
Rupert attempted to blow up one of Blake's ships, sending one of his
sailors, disguised as a Portuguese, with an infernal machine to the
Vice-Admiral. But the man unwarily exclaimed in English, and so was
discovered and his design prevented. These actions were very
differently represented by Royalists and Parliamentarians, and both
parties "complained to the King of Portugal."[5] Blake stigmatised
Rupert as "that pyrate"; and Rupert declared the Parliamentarians to be
only "tumultuous, factious, seditious soldiers and other disorderly and
refractory persons," and Blake a "sea-robber."[6]
After this the King forbade any more Parliament ships to enter his
harbour, and Blake in revenge attacked the Portuguese fleet returning
from Madeira. The King, thus justly incensed, ordered his own fleet to
sail with Rupert, against Blake. But the Portuguese Admiral was in the
pay of De Miro, and "was so careful of his person" as to give Rupert no
assistance. On Rupert's complaint he was deprived of his command, but
his successor proved no more efficient.[7] The attack, therefore
failed, but Rupert was able to write cheerfully to Charles II that his
"entertainment" was still "all civility," and that every facility had
been afforded for the disposal of the goods taken in his prizes, which
realised about L40,000. A part of this sum he sent to Charles, with
the rest he fitted up his prizes as men of war, and victualled his
ships for four months.[8]
He was now ready to force his passage through Blake's {244} fleet, or
"perish in the attempt." But meanwhile Blake had captured the
Portuguese fleet coming from Brazil, and the poor King, not knowing
whom to trust, came in person to Rupert to beg him to rescue it. The
Prince willingly agreed, but Blake was not anxious to fight just then,
and the mists and contrary winds prevented the Royalists from coming up
with him. The King thanked Rupert for his efforts, but the continued
misfortunes which the presence of the Royalists was bringing on
Portugal forced them to leave Lisbon. From that time, September 1650,
the Princes were, in truth, little more than pirates. The small number
of their ships prevented them from ever engaging the fleet of the
Parliament, and they could only carry on a depredatory warfare,
injuring English trade, and at the same time supporting the exiled
court, by the constant capture of merchantmen. Any English vessel that
refused to own Rupert as Lord High Admiral of England was a fair prize,
and from the time that Spain allied herself with the English
Commonwealth, Spanish vessels also were fair game in the Princes' eyes.
And thus, says one of the Royalist captains, "our misfortunes being no
novelty to us, we plough the sea for a subsistence, and being destitute
of a port, we take the Mediterranean sea for our harbour; poverty and
despair being our companions, and revenge our guide."[9]
On leaving Lisbon, Rupert returned at first to the coast of Spain. Off
Estepona he crippled, but could not take, an English vessel. At Malaga
he found some more English ships, but was peremptorily forbidden to
attack them by the Spanish Governor. To this order he only replied
that he would not shoot, but that, since one of the vessels in question
was commanded by a regicide, he could not possibly forego this
opportunity of revenge. In accordance with this declaration, he sent a
fire-ship by night, which successfully burnt the ship of the regicide,
Captain Morley. {245} The anger of the Spaniards forced him to put to
sea at once, and he next came to Montril, where he attacked and
destroyed three English ships, in spite of the efforts made from the
Spanish forts to defend them.[10] Between Cape de Gatte and Cape
Palos, he took several prizes, and from there he stood for Tunis. But
most of his captains disobeyed orders, and entered Cartagena, where
they hoped to find booty. There the Spaniards allowed Blake to attack
them, and, to escape capture, they ran their ships ashore and burnt
them. Rupert and Maurice, unaware of the disaster, left letters for
their missing captains, under a stone, on the coast of Tunis, and
sailed for Toulon. But a sudden storm separated the Princes, and
Maurice arrived at Toulon alone with his prizes; not knowing what was
become of his brother, and fearing the worst.[11]
The condition of Toulon was somewhat disturbed, for the wars of the
Fronde were then raging in France, and the town, at that moment, was
for the Prince of Conde against the court. Maurice was therefore
warned by the French Admiral commanding in the port, to be very careful
of himself and of his ships. But happily both the magistrates of the
town and the officers of the forts showed themselves well-disposed to
the Prince. They hastened to visit him, offered all the aid they could
give him, and pressed him daily to come on shore. Maurice, "through
grief for that sad separation from his brother,"[12] declined their
invitations, and refused, for several days, to leave his ship. At last
the twofold necessity of disposing of his prize goods, and of
purchasing a new mast, determined him to land; but before the appointed
day arrived, he was relieved from anxiety by the appearance of Rupert
himself in the port. The meeting was rapturous. "I need not express
the joy of their embraces, after so long and tedious {246} absence,
with the uncertainty of either's safety," says a witness of it,
"wanting expressions to decipher the affectionate passion of two such
brothers, who, after so long time of hardship, now found themselves
locked in each others arms, in a place of safety."[13] The brothers,
thus reunited, went on shore together, where they were received with
great enthusiasm, and were "magnificently treated"[14] at the house of
the French Admiral.
Soon after this the captains who had lost their ships at Cartagena
arrived to explain themselves, and each by accusing the others
endeavoured to excuse himself. Being in a foreign port, Rupert would
not hold a court-martial, but finally the flight of one captain seemed
to declare his guilt, and clear the rest, though they did not escape
without a severe reprimand for disobeying orders.
The delay at Toulon lasted for a considerable time, and in the interval
Rupert received a summons to Paris from the Queen Regent and Queen
Henrietta, who offered him important employment in France, if he would
leave the command of his fleet to Maurice. But Rupert did not believe
his brother capable of managing the fleet alone, and he was resolved
not to abandon the desperate undertaking to which he was pledged.[15]
The fleet was then reduced to three sail, the "Constant Reformation,"
(Admiral,) and the "Swallow," (Vice-Admiral,) and Maurice's prize; and
Rupert strained his slender resources to the utmost in order to
purchase a new ship, which he named the "Honest Seaman." About the
same time he was joined by a Captain Craven with a vessel of his own,
which made up the number to five sail. At last, after much delay and
trouble, the prize goods were advantageously disposed of, the ships
were supplied from the Royal Stores of France, and the Princes were
ready to seek new adventures. The Channel and the {247} coast of Spain
were now so well guarded by the Parliament ships as to be unsafe for
the Princes' little fleet. Rupert saw that he must now seek distant
seas, and after putting his enemies off his track by inquiring of
suspected spies the best advice for sailing to the Archipelago, he
slipped quietly away to the coast of Barbary. "I infinitely pity the
poor Prince, who wanted all manner of counsel and a confident friend to
reveal his mind unto,"[16] wrote Hatton to Nicholas.
The first prize taken in the Straits was a Genoese vessel, bound for a
Spanish port, which was taken, partly in reprisal for the stealing of
one of Rupert's caravels by the Genoese, and partly because the sailors
clamoured for her capture. A Spanish galleon was next taken, and her
crew put on shore, after which Rupert made for Madeira. This island
was possessed by the Portuguese, and the Princes were received with all
kindness. The Governor, with all his officers, came on board the
Admiral, and the Princes afterwards paid a return visit to the fort,
when they were courteously received, and "accompanied to the sight of
all that was worthy seeing on the island."[17]
Rupert's secret intention was to make for the West Indies, but no
sooner did his mind become known, than the plan was vehemently opposed
by most of his officers. The true cause of their opposition was the
belief that the idea had originated with Fearnes, the captain of the
Admiral, who seems to have been very unpopular with the rest of the
fleet. So high did the dissension run that Rupert felt himself
compelled to call a council, the members of which, with two exceptions,
voted to make for the Azores, alleging that the Admiral, which had
lately sprung a leak, was unfit for the long voyage to the West Indies.
Moved by his new-born anxiety to avoid the charges of "self-will and
rashness," Rupert yielded to the voices of the majority, {248} against
his better judgment. To the Azores they went, and, as the Prince
expected, disaster followed.[18] No prizes were taken, there was found
no convenient harbour where the Admiral's leak might be stopped, and so
bad was the weather that, for long, the ships could not approach the
shores to get provisions. When, at last, they made the island of St.
Michael--also a Portuguese possession--they were as well received as
they had been at Madeira, and here also the Governor conducted the
Princes "to all the monasteries and place of note."[19] Next Rupert
stood for Terceira, but the Governor of that island belonged to the
faction which had opposed the Royalists at Lisbon, and showed himself
unfriendly. Still, he permitted Rupert to purchase wine and meat, and,
the bargain arranged, the fleet returned to St. Michael. On the way
the Admiral sprang a new leak, which could not be found, nor was there
any harbour where she could be safely unloaded that it might be
discovered. Rupert again proposed the voyage to the West Indies, but
the suggestion nearly produced a mutiny, which the Prince only quashed
by promptly breaking up the meetings of the disaffected.
While affairs were in this state, and the supply of provisions yet
uncompleted, stormy weather drove the ships out to sea. The leak in
the Admiral increased rapidly, and her boat, which was too large to be
hoisted in, was washed away from her. On the same day, the
Vice-Admiral, attempting to hoist in her own boat, sunk it at her side.
The storm raged without abatement for three days, at the end of which
the Admiral's condition was hopeless. By continually firing her guns
she had contrived to keep the other ships near her, and by constant
pumping the disaster had been deferred. But on the third morning,
September 30th, 1651, at 3 a.m., the ship sprang a plank, and though a
hundred and twenty pieces of raw beef were trodden down {249} between
the timbers, and planks nailed over them, it was without avail. The
sails were blown away, and by ten o'clock of the same morning, the
water was rushing in so fast that the men could not stand in the hold
to bale. In this desperate condition, the whole crew behaved with real
heroism. Having thrown the guns overboard, in the vain endeavour to
lighten the ship, they resigned all hope, and resolved to die together.
The storm was so violent that none of the other ships dared to approach
the Admiral, lest they should perish with her. Once the "Honest
Seaman" ran across her bowsprit, in the hope that some of the crew
might save themselves on her, but none made the attempt. Rupert then
signalled Maurice to come under his stern, that he might speak his last
words to him. Approaching as near as possible, the two Princes tried
to shout to one another, "but the hideous noise of the seas and winds
over-noised their voices."[20] Maurice, frantic with distress,
declared that he would save his brother or perish; but his captain and
officers, less ready to sacrifice their lives, "in mutinous words"
refused to lay their ship alongside the Admiral. Seeing his orders
given in vain, Maurice next tried to send out a little boat which he
had on board, but, though his men feigned to obey him, they delayed, as
long as possible, getting the boat ready. "The Captain of the
Vice-Admiral cannot be excused," says an indignant letter, "for when he
saw the ship perishing he made no action at all for their boat to help
to save the men, but walked upon the deck, saying: 'Gentlemen, it is a
great mischance, but who can help it?' And the master never brought
the ship near the perishing ship, notwithstanding Prince Maurice's
commands, and his earnestness to have it done."[21]
At last it occurred to the crew of the Admiral that their Prince, at
least, might be saved in their one small boat, and they "beseeched His
Highness" to make use of it. {250} But of this Rupert would not hear.
He thanked the men for their affection to him, and declined to leave
them, saying that they had long shared his fortunes, and he would now
share theirs. Then they represented to him that, supposing he could
get on board another ship,--a very remote chance in such a sea,--he
might, by his authority, cause something to be done to save the rest of
them. Seeing that he still hesitated, they wasted no more time in
parley, but promptly overpowered him, and placed him forcibly in the
boat, "desiring him, at parting, to remember they died his true
servants."[22] By a miraculous chance, as it seemed then, the little
boat reached the "Honest Seaman" in safety, and, having put the Prince
on board her, returned at once to rescue some others. Only Captain
Fearnes accepted the offered rescue. M. Mortaigne, whom Rupert
especially entreated to come to him, preferred to die with the rest,
and after this second journey, the little skiff sank. Rupert, now as
frantic as Maurice had been before, ordered the "Honest Seaman" to run
towards the Admiral, and enter the men on her bowsprit. The Captain
obeyed to his best ability, but could not accomplish his aim, because
the Admiral, having lost her last sail, and being heavy with water,
could not stir. The gallant crew signalled their farewells to their
Prince, and were then invited by their Chaplain, who had remained with
them, to receive the Holy Communion. For some hours longer the ship
remained above water, but at nine o'clock at night she sank with all on
board, the crew burning two fire-pikes as a last farewell to their
Admiral.
Rupert, for once in his life, was utterly crushed by the weight of
misfortune. He was taken next day into his brother's ship, and there
he remained for some time, "overladen with the grief of so inestimable
a loss", and leaving everything to the care and management of Maurice.
The {251} loss of the treasure on board the Admiral had been enormous,
amounting to almost the whole of the year's gains; but, wrote Rupert to
Herbert, "it was not the greatest loss to me!"[23] Of the Prince's own
enforced rescue we have three separate accounts. "The Prince was
unwilling to leave us, and resolved to die with us," reported the
Captain.[24] And says another writer: "His Highness would certainly
have perished with them, if some of his officers, more careful of his
preservation than himself, had not forced him into a small boat and
carried him on board the 'Honest Seaman.'"[25] It is also noted in the
common-place book of one Symonds, a manuscript now preserved in the
British Museum: "It is very remarkable of Prince Rupert that, his ship
having sprung a plank in the midst of the sea.... he seemed not ready
to enter the boat for safety, nor did intend it. They all, about
sixty, besought him to save himself, and to take some of them with him
in the boat to row him; telling him that he was destined and appointed
for greater matters."[26]
Misfortunes, as usual, did not come singly. Making for Fayal, with
Maurice still in command, the "Swallow" and the "Honest Seaman" fell in
with the other three ships, from which they had been separated, but
only in time to witness the wreck of the "Loyal Subject." This time
the Portuguese were far less friendly than before. Apparently they
feared lest the English should appropriate a Spanish vessel which had
just surrendered at Pico, and when Maurice sent to offer his
assistance, they fired upon his envoys. Maurice's officer insisted
upon landing and was promptly arrested, without a hearing. The "Honest
Seaman" and the "Revenge" thereupon fired on the Portuguese, but
without effect, and the whole fleet stood away to Fayal, where they
found {252} that the officers whom they had left on shore to secure
supplies, had also been arrested. The necessity for action roused
Rupert from his melancholy. He guessed that the changed attitude of
the Governors must be due to a peace made between Portugal and the
English Commonwealth, and saw that he must act with decision. He
therefore sent to the Governor of Fayal, saying that Prince Rupert was
in his harbour, on board the "Swallow," and that unless his men were at
once released, and things placed on the former friendly footing, he
would free his men by force, and would also write to the King of
Portugal "a particular of the affronts he had received." Evidently
Rupert was a much more awe-inspiring person than Maurice, for the
Governor, terrified by the unexpected discovery of his presence, at
once released his prisoners, and permitted the Princes to take in their
stores unmolested.[27]
Rupert was determined now to go to the West Indies, and, in order to
prevent factious opposition, he sent his secretary on board each ship
in turn to require the opinion of each officer, in writing, as to what
it would be best to do. By this device all collusion was prevented,
and consequently the majority decided with the Prince, for the West
Indies. The only two dissentients were the Captain and Master of the
Vice-Admiral, who had behaved so badly at the wreck of the Admiral.
These two were for going to the mouth of the Channel to take prizes.
But their advice was generally scouted, as it was evident to all that
the ships could not live in the northern seas. The dissentient Captain
thereupon quitted the fleet, "pretending a quarrel he had with Captain
Fearnes,"[28] and Rupert willingly let him go.
Distrusting the Portuguese in the Azores, the Princes sailed towards
the Canary Islands, hoping to meet with prizes from which they might
obtain new rigging and other {253} necessities, for all the ships were
in a terribly damaged condition. Stress of weather forced them to put
in at Cape Blanco, in Arguin, on the coast of Africa, where, finding a
good harbour, they resolved to refit. A Dutch vessel, which had also
taken refuge there, supplied them with pilots, and with planks and
other necessaries for the repair of their ships. Having obtained these
things, they set up tents on land, in which they stored their cargoes,
while they brought the ships aground.
The repairs involved a considerable delay, and Rupert wished to employ
the time in procuring new provisions. Fish was to be found in great
abundance, but no cattle could be purchased on account of the timidity
of the natives, who fled at the approach of Europeans. This timidity
was exceedingly annoying to Rupert, and on January 1st, 1651, he
marched inland with a hundred men, being resolved to get speech with
the natives. A fog favoured him, so that he came upon an encampment
before the people were aware of his neighbourhood. Nevertheless no
sooner did they see him than they took to flight, leaving behind them
their tents, and their flocks of sheep and goats. In a final attempt
to detain them Rupert shot a camel, but the act naturally did not
reassure them, and the rider mounted another and fled, "but for haste
left a man-child behind, which by fortune was guided to His Highness,
as a New Year's gift. The poor infant, embracing his legs very fast,
took him for his own parent."[29] Child and flocks being carefully
secured, Rupert marched on after the natives, dividing his men into
small companies, that they might appear the less alarming. This plan
succeeded so far that at length two natives came back with a flag of
truce, desiring to treat for the recovery of the child and the sheep.
To this the Prince readily consented; whereupon the men promised to
come to him in two days' time, and he returned to his fleet.
{254}
According to promise, the African envoys appeared on the shore, Jan.
3rd, and desired a hostage. Rupert, doubtful of their good faith,
refused to order any man to risk his life; but one volunteered, and was
allowed to go. Then the Africans, making no offers of trading with the
Prince, demanded the child's surrender, "expressing great sorrow for
the loss thereof." This increased Rupert's suspicions, and he ordered
his men to keep well within their own lines. One sailor, disobeying,
went out upon the cliff, and was immediately killed by the natives,
who, having thus broken truce, killed their hostage also, and fled.
Rupert pursued in great fury, but without being able to overtake them.
A second expedition, led by Robert Holmes, had no better result, and
the child remained in Rupert's possession.[30] In 1653, "an African
lad of five "is mentioned by one of Cromwell's spies, as "part of the
prey the Prince brought over seas;"[31] and reference is made to "the
little nigger"[32] in several of Robert Holmes's letters to Rupert.
The Dutch vessel from which the Prince had obtained his planks, now
sent him supplies of water from the Island of Arguin, and seeing her
thus well-disposed, he chartered her to carry his prize cargo of ginger
and sugar to France. He also took the opportunity of sending a brief
account of his adventures and misfortunes to the King, and to Sir
Edward Herbert. The copy of his letter to Charles II is headed: "What
our ship's company desired me to say to the King," and is as follows.
"Sire,--By several ways I have given your Majesty a general account of
our good and bad fortunes, since we left Toulon, but fearing some, if
not all, may have had worse fortune than I am confident this will, I
have made a more particular relation to Sir Edward Herbert of both, to
which I could {255} add more particulars to shew your Majesty how I
have been hindered in a design to do your Majesty eminent service, but,
Sire, I shall leave this until I have the happiness to be nearer your
Majesty. In the meantime I have sent an order on Mr. Carteret, with
some goods, to pay the debts of your Majesty I made at Toulon, and some
others, which belong to me, my brother, and the seamen, the proceed of
which I have ordered to be put into Sir Edward Herbert's hands for
yourself, or your brother's necessities; be pleased to command what you
will of it. In such a case, I dare say, there will be none among us
will grumble at it. All I humbly beg is that Sir Edward Herbert may
receive your Majesty's commands by word of mouth, or under your own
hand, and that your Majesty be pleased to look upon us, as having
undergone some hazards equal with others. Had it pleased God to
preserve the 'Constant Reformation' (the Admiral), I had loaded this
vessel with better goods."[33]
To Herbert the Prince wrote at greater length, giving an account of the
wreck of the Admiral, and of the factious opposition he had encountered
among his officers. He explained also that the shares of each man in
the prizes taken had been adjudged by the chaplain, Dr. Hart, and he
concluded: "If His Majesty or the Duke of York be in necessity
themselves, pray dispose of all to what they have need of, for their
own use; I mean _after the debts I made at Toulon for the fleet are
satisfied_. I wrote word so to His Majesty."[34] Some eight years
later, at the Restoration, those debts which weighed so heavily on
Rupert's conscience were still unpaid, and the fact is worth
remembering in connection with the quarrel that the Prince had with the
King on his return to France.
{256}
The cargo being despatched and the ships repaired, the Princes made for
the Cape Verd Islands, where they took in water and "one thousand dried
goats."[35] From there they went to Santiago, which they found
inhabited chiefly by negroes. There was, however, a Portuguese
Governor, Don Jorge de Mesquita de Castello Baranquo, who overwhelmed
them with attentions, and presents of fruit. Rupert returned his
civilities with such presents as his cargo afforded, and wrote to the
King of Portugal gratefully acknowledging the kindness of Don Jorge.
The letter bears date March 2nd, 1652.[36] When the Princes had been
some days in the harbour, Don Jorge informed them that certain English
vessels, bound for Guinea, were at anchor in the River Gambia, and
offered pilots to take the Royalists up the river. This offer Rupert
eagerly accepted, but the pilots proved inefficient, and mistook the
channel, forcing the "Swallow," now the Admiral, to anchor in very
shallow water. Rupert went out in his boat to sound for the channel,
and while thus occupied, came upon a ship belonging to the Duke of
Courland, on the Baltic. The Courlanders at once told the Prince the
whereabouts of the English vessels, and offered to pilot him up to
them. With their help, the Admiral weighed anchor, found the channel,
and captured an English ship, the "John." On board this ship was a
negro interpreter, known as Captain Jacus, and the son of the Governor
of Portodale. To these two Rupert showed much kindness, freely giving
them their liberty, an action for which he soon reaped an ample reward.
That night Rupert's fleet anchored by the Courlander, which continued
professions of friendship and offers of aid, for which the Prince
returned grateful thanks.
On the following morning, Rupert took a Spaniard, but failed to get
into the tributary of the Gambia, where lay an English ship. With the
next tide Maurice succeeded in {257} getting in, and as soon as it was
light, began the attack. The Englishman quickly surrendered, on a
promise of quarter, and freedom for the Captain. Then, too late, the
crew remembered that no terms had been made for the merchant whom they
had on board. A dispute arose as to the fairness of the agreement
already made, and Maurice, in true sporting spirit, offered to free the
captured ship, and fight it out over again;[37] but the English crew,
declining the quixotic offer, accepted his former terms, and Maurice
boarded them, still in exuberant spirits. "See what friends you have
of these Portugals!" he cried in youthful triumph. "But for them we
should never have come hither and taken you."[38] Altogether three
English ships, the "Friendship," the "John," and the "Marmaduke," had
been captured in the river, besides the Spaniard. Rupert distributed
the crews of the prizes among his own ships, and Maurice, re-naming the
largest of the prizes, the "Defiance," made her the Vice-Admiral.
The natives of the country, thinking to please Rupert, and anxious,
possibly, to gratify old grudges, murdered several sailors of the
Parliament who had landed. But Rupert, "abhorring to countenance
infidels in the shedding of Christian blood," took care to intimate his
deep displeasure.[39] Thereupon the brother and son of the native King
came to visit him. He received them with all due courtesy, offering
them chairs to sit upon, which, however, they gravely declined, saying
that only their King was worthy of such an honour.
But notwithstanding the friendly disposition of the natives Rupert
could not prolong his stay in the river. The time of the
tornadoes--May to July--was drawing near, and preparation was
necessary. The Princes therefore broke up {258} their Spanish prize,
as unfit for service, bequeathed her guns to the Courlanders, and
sailed for the Cape de Verd Islands. By the way some of their ships
were missed, and they anchored on the coast to await them. During the
delay, the natives stole away one of Maurice's sailors, and Maurice,
finding fair words unavailing, sent a force, under Holmes, to recover
him. The two boats, in which Holmes and his men were embarked, were
overturned in the surf, and lost at their landing, but happily, the
liberated negro, Jacus, came to their help with a party of his friends.
Then Maurice sent a third boat to bring his men back, but with orders
not to land unless Jacus advised it. Holmes and his force were safely
re-embarked, when the captain of the boat, mistaking Maurice's orders,
declared that they were to take Jacus back with them. On hearing this,
Holmes went once more on shore, to speak to Jacus, and, during the
delay involved, the hostile negroes began to attack the crew. The
sailors shot a negro, and captured one of their canoes, which so
incensed the rest that they seized upon Holmes and another man who had
accompanied him. The men in Maurice's boat saw themselves outnumbered,
and returned in all haste to their ship, with the bad news. Both
Princes were "extremely moved," and, swearing that they would rescue
their comrades or perish in the attempt, they went ashore to treat with
the natives. The negroes declared, through Jacus, that they would
release Holmes if their canoe were returned, and the men in her set at
liberty. Rupert at once signalled to the Vice-Admiral to free the
canoe, but no sooner was it done than Jacus came running down to the
shore, with the news that his countrymen intended treachery, and would
not release their prisoners. It proved too late to re-take the canoe,
but the Prince fired on the natives, who were gathering round him, and
signalled all his ships to send men to his aid. The natives fought
with much courage; and Rupert himself was wounded by a poisoned arrow,
which he instantly cut out with his knife. {259} While he engaged the
attention of the hostile negroes, Jacus and his friends contrived to
free Holmes and his comrade, and to embark them safely in Maurice's
pinnace. This done, the Princes retreated to their fleet; but they did
not show themselves ungrateful to Jacus, "whose fidelity," says one of
the crew, "may teach us that heathens are not void of moral honesty."
On the day following, Rupert sent his thanks, and an offer to take
Jacus with him and "to reward him for his faith and pains." But Jacus,
wishing the Princes all good luck, declined their offer; he was, he
said, not in the least afraid to remain with his own tribe.[40]
The missing ships being come up, the Princes continued their voyage
towards the Cape Verd Islands, taking a large English prize on the way.
Two smaller English vessels were captured by the "Revenge" at Mayo, and
Maurice took a Dane, but was promptly ordered to release her, by his
brother. Then most of the ships went with Maurice to St. Iago, taking
a present of 900 hides out of the spoil, to the Governor; the Admiral
and the "Revenge" went on to Sal. The "Revenge," as it happened, was
largely manned by the sailors taken in the prizes. These men, being
naturally disaffected to the Princes, overpowered their officers in the
night, and stole away to England. They reached home in safety, and
were able to give a very edifying account of Rupert and his crews to
the Parliament: "For their delight is in cursing and swearing, and
plundering and sinking, and despoiling all English ships they can lay
their talons on." Still the report of the Royalists' condition must
have been very encouraging to their enemies. "The 'Swallow' and the
'Honest Seaman' were so leaky that they had to pump day and night, and
consequently cannot keep long at sea. They had not above three weeks'
bread, and nothing but water, at the time when they took the three
ships in the River {260} Gambia," said the escaped prisoners.[41]
Rupert, on missing the "Revenge," guessed what had happened, but he
touched at Mayo to ask if she had been sighted. His presence there so
terrified a Spanish crew that they landed all their cargo, which was at
once seized by the Portuguese. Rupert then returned to Santiago, where
he took in water and provisions, bestowed the hulk of a prize on "the
Religious people of the Charity," made "a handsome present to the
Governor, in acknowledgment of his civilities," and took a final leave
of the Island.[42]
The Princes were now fairly on their way to the West Indies; but, near
Barbadoes, the Admiral sprang a leak, and had to put into Santa Lucia,
in the Caribbees, the men "being almost spent with extreme labour."[43]
Four days later, the leak being stopped, they proceeded towards St.
Martinique, meeting on the way some Dutch men-of-war, with the officers
of which they exchanged visits and civilities. The French Governor of
St. Martinique proved very hospitable, and, moreover, sent the Princes
a timely warning that all the English possessions in the West Indies
had surrendered to the Parliament. Having returned grateful thanks for
this information, the Royalists proceeded to San Dominique, where the
natives brought them fruit, in exchange for glass beads. On the day
before Whit Sunday they reached Montserrat, where they seized two small
ships, but one, proving to be the property of Royalists, was released.
At Nevis they found a large number of English vessels, which, like a
flock of frightened animals, "began to shift for themselves," some
endeavouring to escape, and others running ashore.[44] A brief
engagement took place, in which Rupert's secretary was shot down at his
side, {261} but no prizes could be taken, because the enemy's vessels
were so fast aground that they could not be brought off.
After a brief visit to La Bastare, the Princes went to the Virgin
Islands, intending to unload and careen the Admiral, and on the way
thither, they added to their numbers by purchasing from a Dutch
man-of-war a prize she had taken. They had hoped to find cassava roots
in the islands, but these proved scarce, and consequently they suffered
greatly from want of food. Rupert was even forced to reduce his men's
rations, but, seeing that their Princes shared equally with them in all
hardships, the sailors bore the privation with cheerful courage. The
scarcity of food caused them to leave the Virgins as soon as the leaky
ships were repatched, and, having burnt three small prizes as
unseaworthy, they sailed southwards.
Now came the crowning misfortune of the unhappy Prince who had been so
long "kept waking with new troubles."[45] Not far from Anguilla the
fleet was caught in a most terrible hurricane. So strong was the wind
that the men could not stand at their work; so thick the weather that
no one could see more than a few yards before him. For two days the
ships ran before the wind, the Admiral escaping wreckage on the rocks
of Angadas by a miracle. On the third day the hurricane abated, and
the Admiral found herself alone at the uninhabited island of St. Ann,
in the Virgins; the "Honest Seaman" had been cast ashore at Porto Rico,
and the Vice-Admiral had totally disappeared. "In this fatal wreck,"
says Pyne, "besides a great many brave gentlemen and others, the sea,
to glut itself, swallowed Prince Maurice, whose fame the mouth of
detraction cannot blast; his very enemies bewailing his loss. Many had
more power, few more merit. He was snatched from us in obscurity, lest
beholding his loss would have prevented others from endeavouring their
own safety; {262} so much he lived beloved and died bewailed."[46]
Rupert's grief was beyond words. He had lost the only member of his
family to whom he was bound by close ties of affection, the most
faithful and devoted of his followers, his favourite companion, his
best-loved friend. From the very first he accepted the situation as
hopeless, and he bore his sorrow in grim silence, not suffering it to
crush him as his grief for the loss of the "Constant Reformation" had
done. There was no Maurice now to fall back upon, and the needs of the
ship could not be neglected. Alas, one ship, the "Swallow," was all
that remained of the gallant little fleet, and Rupert, finding himself
thus alone, resolved to return to France. First he paid a farewell
visit to Guadeloupe, where he was kindly received, and supplied with
wine. There also he took an English prize, naively likened by the
writer of his log to "Manna from Heaven."[47] But well might the crew
rejoice at the capture, seeing that their rations were now reduced to
three ounces per diem. Touching at the Azores, they were surprised to
be received with bullets, and not suffered to approach within speaking
distance of the land. Rupert therefore sailed straight for Brittany,
stopping at Cape Finisterre for fresh provisions. His health was
completely broken down, and the food on board both scarce and nasty,
and we read: "His Highness had not been very well since he came from
the West Indies, and fresh provisions being a rarity, a present of two
hens and a few eggs was very acceptable."[48]
But the Prince was nearing the end of his hardships, if not of his
troubles. Early one morning in the March of 1653, he came into the
Loire and anchored at St. Lazar. The next day, in attempting to get
higher up the river, he ran his ship aground. The crew were anxious to
leave her to her fate, but Rupert had not come through so many {263}
difficulties only to succumb to the last, and by his "industry and
care" he brought her safely off. Having secured his prizes, he sent
the "Swallow" back to the mouth of the river to refit. "Here, however,
like a grateful servant, having brought her princely master through so
many dangers, she consumed herself, scorning, after being quitted by
him, that any inferior person should command her."[49]
Thus closed the most singular episode in a much chequered career. The
morality of Rupert's proceedings during his three years' wanderings on
the high seas has been much debated. In theory he was a loyal Admiral
holding his own against a rebel fleet, but in fact, it must be owned,
he was little more than a pirate, or at best, a privateer. He was
never able to meet the fleet of the Parliament in battle, and could
only wage war by crippling the trade of the hostile party. Moreover,
though his desire to injure the trade of the enemy was both earnest and
sincere, he was still more anxious to gain merchandise, by the sale of
which he could support his destitute sovereign and his fleet. Yet he
kept within the limits he had set himself, and made prizes only of
ships belonging to adherents of the Commonwealth or to its Spanish
allies. The capture of a Genoese vessel has been admitted, but that
was in the nature of a reprisal, and it has been seen how a Danish and
a Royalist ship taken by mistake were set free. That the Prince
endured hardship, difficulties and dangers out of a loyal devotion to
his cousin, is shown by the readiness with which he renounced his
private share of the spoil in Charles's favour, when he sent home the
cargo of 1652. The devotion evidently felt for him by his crew speaks
well for his character as a commander, and all his recorded dealings
with the natives of Africa and the various islands, show a humane and
enlightened spirit in which there is nothing of the buccanneer. Indeed
the various logs which bear record of his voyages {264} are marked by a
tone of great decorum. In them the chaplain figures frequently, and on
one occasion it is noted, "The second day being Sunday, we rode still,
and did the duties of the day in the best manner that we could; the
same at evening."[50] And even granting that the decorous tone of the
logs is forced and exaggerated of set purpose, the fact remains that no
specific charge of cruelty was ever brought against the Prince by his
enemies or any one else. This, when it is remembered how lawless were
the high seas in those days, is no slight praise. But, whatever may be
thought of the ethics of the case, it will be universally acknowledged
that to keep the seas as Rupert kept them for three years, with no
previous experience in nautical affairs, with never more than seven,
and usually only three ships at his command, with those ships
hopelessly leaky and rotten, and continually beset by every possible
form of danger and disaster, was a feat deserving of wonder and
admiration.
[1] Clarendon State Papers. Hyde to Rupert, Oct. 19, 1650.
[2] Cary's Memorials, Vol. II. p. 164.
[3] Warburton, III. p. 306, _note_.
[4] Ibid. p. 303.
[5] Warburton, III. pp. 304-305. Whitelocke, 458. Thurloe's State
Papers, I. 145-146.
[6] Thurloe, I. 141. Dom. State Papers. Commonweath, IX. fol. 38.
[7] Warburton. III. pp. 306, 310.
[8] Ibid pp. 310-312. Add. MSS. 18982 f. 210.
[9] Warburton, III. p. 313.
[10] Hist. MSS. Com. Rept 14. Portland MSS. Vol. I. p. 548. 26
Dec. 1650.
[11] Warburton, III. p. 318.
[12] Ibid. 320.
[13] Warburton, III. 320.
[14] Ibid. p. 321.
[15] Letters, II. p. 3. 14 May, 1651.
[16] Nicholas Papers, I. 249. May 1651.
[17] Warburton, III. p. 325.
[18] Warburton, III. p. 327.
[19] Ibid. p. 329.
[20] Warburton, III. p. 334.
[21] Ibid. pp. 533-535. Pitts to --. No date.
[22] Warburton, III. p. 335.
[23] Warburton, III. p. 349.
[24] Rupert Transcripts. Captain Fearnes' Relation.
[25] Warburton, III. p. 540.
[26] Harleian MSS. 991.
[27] Warburton, III. p. 340.
[28] Ibid. p. 537, Pitts to --. No date.
[29] Warburton, III. p. 345.
[30] Warburton, III. pp. 346-7.
[31] Thurloe State Papers, II. 405.
[32] Rupert Transcripts. Holmes to Rupert, May 3 and 19, 1653.
[33] Warburton, III. p. 348.
[34] Ibid. p. 349. This letter is supposed by Warburton to be written
to Hyde, but it is without address; and the three references of Rupert
to Herbert in the letter to the King seem to imply that the
accompanying letter was intended for Herbert, and not Hyde.
[35] Warburton, III. p. 541, Feb. 1st 1652.
[36] Ibid. p. 366.
[37] Warburton. III. p. 359.
[38] Domestic State Papers. Commonwealth, 41. fol. 34. 8 Oct. 1653.
Report of Walker.
[39] Warburton, III. p. 360.
[40] Warburton, III. pp. 363-367.
[41] Domestic State Papers. Commonwealth. Vol. XXIV. f. 60. June
(?), 1652. Coxon's Report.
[42] Warburton, III. p. 370.
[43] Ibid. p. 371.
[44] Ibid. p. 376.
[45] Warburton, III. p. 337.
[46] Warburton, III. p. 382.
[47] Ibid. p. 384.
[48] Ibid. p. 546.
[49] Warburton, III. p. 388.
[50] Rupert Transcripts. Journal, Feb. 26, 1651.
{265}