RUPERT'S POSITION AT COURT. HIS CARE FOR DISTRESSED CAVALIERS. HIS
INVENTIONS. LIFE AT WINDSOR. DEATH
Of Rupert's later life in England, apart from his naval career, there
is not much to tell. In the dissolute court of the Restoration there
was no place for Rupert of the Rhine. He represented the older
Cavaliers. He had stood side by side and fought on many a field with
the fathers of the men who adorned the Court of Charles II; but with
the sons, the children of the exiles, he could have no sympathy. Much
has been said and written contrasting those fathers and sons, the men
who died for Charles I, and the men who lived with Charles II. But no
contrast is stronger than that of the two Kings themselves,--of the
grave, dignified, blundering, narrow, but ever earnest martyr-king,
with the dissolute, easy-going, but always shrewd, merry monarch.
The Cavaliers of the Civil War were, as we have seen, by no means free
from faults and follies; but the real difference between them and their
successors lay less in individual character than in ideal. In the
first half of the seventeenth century religious feeling had been strong
in all classes, and the tone of morality high. Devotion to duty was
strongly inculcated, and men believed it their duty to sacrifice
themselves for their King, or for their opinions as the case might be.
That most of the Cavaliers were willing to offer their sacrifices in
their own way only, and that many were desirous of gaining rewards for
their services may be granted; but the fact remains that they did {333}
sacrifice themselves, and clung loyally to their Sovereign when all
hope of reward was passed.
In 1660 the ideal of life was changed, or rather all ideal had
perished, and the Courtiers imitated their master in his attempt to
lounge through life with as much pleasure and as little inconvenience
to themselves as possible. The relaxation of all moral restraint was
due, in a great measure, to the inevitable reaction from Puritan
rigidity and hypocrisy; but it was due still more to the years of
exile, during which the Royalists had been "strangely tossed about on
the fickle waves of fortune."[1] The Civil War had been a check on all
education; it had released boys from school and students from college
to throw them, at an early age, into the perils and temptations of a
camp. At the same time, it had deprived them of the care and guidance
of parents and guardians. Later, these boys, grown men before their
time, had led a precarious existence on the Continent, living how and
where they could, and snatching consolation for sorrow and privation in
such illicit pleasures as came in their way. This life had ruined
Charles II, and it is not wonderful that it ruined other men.
Rupert had been young too in those days,--he was only eight years
Charles's senior, but the precarious life had not affected him in the
same way. He had never drifted; it was not in his nature to drift, and
his own strength and earnestness had kept him ever hard at work, with
some definite end before him. Yet it cannot be denied that his
character had suffered. The edge of it was, as it were, blunted. His
ideals had perished in the stress of toil and anxiety. His chivalry
had given place to common-sense. His hopefulness was gone, and his
youthful eagerness had been replaced by a coldly sardonic view of life.
"Blessed are those who expect nothing" was Rupert's motto now.
In all things he had grown coarser, and yet his standard {334} of life
remained, for those times, high. He had imbibed in his youth, says an
admiring contemporary, "such beautiful ideas of virtue that he hath
ever since esteemed it, notwithstanding the contempt the world hath put
upon it; nor could he abhor the debaucheries of the age as he doth, had
not his prejudice against it been of long duration. Such virtue is not
formed in a day, and it is to his education that he owes the glory of a
life so noble and so Christian."[2] Rupert had in truth too much
self-respect, it may be too much religion, to sink to the depths to
which Charles's court was sunk, and he held himself aloof with lofty
disdain. "Mon cousin", as the mocking courtiers called him, in
imitation of the King, was at once the object of their fear and of
their merriment. So great was their terror of him that, mock though
they might behind his back, not one of them dared, as they owned, make
him the object of open satire, from which the King and the Duke of York
did not escape.
The royal brothers themselves stood in some awe of their cousin.
Sandwich told Pepys that he had heard James laugh at Rupert in his
absence,[3] but in his cousin's presence James usually behaved to him
with due respect. As for the King, he confessed, in 1664, that he
dared not send for Sandwich to Court, lest his coming should offend
Rupert.[4] Occasionally there were quarrels and coolnesses between the
cousins, for Rupert was still sometimes irritable; yet he always
retained the friendship of both Charles and James. His position was
somewhat anomalous, especially after the popular party had raised the
no-Popery cry and looked to him as their natural head. Yet he steered
through that difficult course with satisfaction to all parties, and
infinite credit to himself. He showed, says one of his admirers,
"temperance and moderation in committing {335} nothing towards the
present differences amongst us, nor adding any fuel to those unhappy
heats, which he, supposing too high already, endeavoured rather to
quench than to increase."[5]
He was not infrequently to be found in the King's company,
notwithstanding his aversion to the court. In 1663, he accompanied
Charles on a progress through the western counties. On the King's
marriage he went with him to meet the bride at Dover; and, on this
occasion, he scandalised the Portuguese by his rudeness. The
Portuguese Ambassador took precedence of the Prince, whereupon Rupert
took him by the shoulders and quietly put him out of the way. The
King, much shocked, remonstrated with his cousin, and induced him to
yield place.[6] In March 1669 Rupert was driving with the King on the
occasion when the royal coach was upset in Holborn, and, as Pepys said,
"the King all dirty, but no hurt."[7] Rupert was also of the party
that received Henrietta of Orleans on her one brief visit to England in
1670; he is frequently mentioned as dining with the Royal family; and
when the Prince of Tuscany visited England incognito, the Queen Mother
decided that, according to etiquette, his first visit was due to
Rupert.[8] Pepys tells how he went to see a tennis-match between
Rupert and Captain Cook on one side, and May and Chichely on the other.
The King was present as a spectator, and, says the diarist, "It seems
they are the best players at tennis in this nation."[9] A trivial, yet
characteristic anecdote is told by Coke. He was walking in the Mall
with the King, when they were overtaken by Prince Rupert. "The King
told the Prince how he had shot a duck, and which dog fetched it, and
{336} so they walked on, till the King came to St. James's House, and
there the King said to the Prince: 'Let's go and see Cambridge and
Kendal!'--the Duke of York's two sons, who then lay a dying."[10]
One of Rupert's principal cares was the relief of the distressed
Cavaliers, who looked to him as their supporter and representative.
Charles II has often been blamed for not relieving the wants of so many
of those who had suffered for his father. Probably he was callous to
suffering which he did not directly witness, but it must be confessed
that his position was a hard one. He could dispose of very little
money, and he was much bound to the Presbyterians who had restored him
to the throne. His pledges to them prevented him from upsetting much
of the existing arrangements, and consequently hampered him in the
relief of the Royalists. Such of these as were in want turned to
Rupert, sure of a hearing and of such aid as he could give, whether it
were in money, or in intercession with the King. The State papers are
full of their petitions, which generally refer to Rupert as their
guarantor; indeed his certificate seems to have been regarded as the
necessary hall-mark of their authenticity. In 1660 he came to the
defence of 142 creditors of the late King;[11] and we find him pleading
for a certain Cary Heydon, and other people, at the commission for
indigent officers.[12] One very striking instance of his justice and
good memory occurred just before his death. A certain member of
Parliament, named Speke, had been accused of conspiring for Monmouth
against the Duke of York, and was summoned before the Council Chamber.
He defended himself ably, and quoted his former services to Charles I.
Rupert suddenly stood up, told the King that it was all true, "and
added one circumstance which Mr. Speke had thought it not {337}
handsome to mention," namely, that when he, Rupert, had been in great
want of money for the King's service, Speke had sent him "1,000
pieces"; and had been so far from asking repayment, that the Prince had
neither seen nor heard of him from that day to this. The accusation
was promptly dismissed; and on the next day Rupert invited Speke to
dinner, when he "entertained him in the most obliging manner."[13]
In December 1662 Rupert became one of the first Fellows of the Royal
Society, of which the King was also a member,[14] and their common
interest in science formed an additional bond of union between the
cousins. Rupert had both a forge and a laboratory in which he himself
worked with great zeal. The King, with his favourite Buckingham, was
wont to lounge in and sit on a stool, watching his energetic cousin,
with keen interest. Sometimes the Prince would weary of their chatter,
and he had a short and effectual way of ridding himself of them. He
would coolly throw something on to the fire which exhaled such fearful
fumes that the King and courtiers would rush out half-choked, vowing in
mock fury that they would never again enter the "alchemist's hell."[15]
Rupert's inventions were many, and were connected chiefly with the
improvement of weapons and materials of war. He made an improved lock
for fire-arms; increased the power of gunpowder ten times; invented a
kind of revolver; a method of making hail-shot; a means of melting
black-lead like a metal; a substance composed of copper and zinc, and
called "Prince's metal" to this day; and a screw which facilitated the
taking of observations with a quadrant at sea. In 1671 he took out a
patent "for converting edge-tools forged in soft iron, after forged;
and for converting iron wire, and softening all cast or melted iron, so
that {338} it can be wrought and filed like forged iron."[16] He also
had a patent for tincturing copper upon iron,[17] and he built a house
at Windsor for the carrying on of his works. Besides his scientific
works and studies, he had on hand innumerable projects, adventurous and
commercial. He was deeply interested in African trade, and was a
patentee of the Royal African Company, formed for its promotion. In
1668 he had conceived a scheme for discovering the north-west passage.
The idea had been suggested to him by a Canadian, and he forthwith
demanded of the King a small ship, the "Eagle," which he despatched on
the quest.[18] As a result of this, he became first President of the
Hudson Bay Company, to which the King granted in 1670 the sole right to
trade in those seas.[19] In the same year he was appointed to the
Council of trade and plantations. During the Dutch wars he fitted out
four privateers, the "Eagle," the "Hawk," the "Sparrow Hawk," and the
"Panther."[20] In 1668 he petitioned, in conjunction with Henry
Howard, for the sole right to coin farthings, for which he had invented
a new model.[21] This petition was regarded with great favour by the
nation at large, for "every pitiful shopkeeper" coined at his own
pleasure, and the abuses of the system were many. The farthings of
Prince Rupert were "much talked of and desired;"[22] and, in
consequence of his petition, he was empowered, with Craven and others,
to examine into the abuses of the Mint.[23] Later he started a
project, in partnership with Shaftesbury, for working supposed
silver-mines in Somersetshire.[24]
{339}
In September 1668 the Prince was made Constable of Windsor, in November
he was granted the keepership of the Park, and in 1670 he became Lord
Lieutenant of Berkshire. From that time he lived much at Windsor, but
we find him still occasionally employed in the public service. At the
request of the Mayor and Aldermen of London he laid the first stone of
a new pillar of the Exchange.[25] In 1669 he was on the Committee for
Foreign Affairs; and in 1670 he was authorised to conclude a commercial
treaty with the French Minister, Colbert.[26] In 1671 he was one of
the commission appointed to consider the settlement of Ireland; and in
1679 various "odd letters and superscriptions" taken on a suspected
Frenchman, were handed over for the Prince to decipher.[27]
But after the last naval action of 1673 Rupert retired more and more
from public life. The peacefulness of Windsor suited him far better
than the turmoil of the court, and he devoted himself to the repairing
and embellishing of the castle, in which he took an "extraordinary
delight."[28] Evelyn, who visited Windsor in 1670, describes the castle
as exceedingly "ragged and ruinous," but Rupert had already begun to
repair the Round Tower, and Evelyn was lost in admiration of the
Prince's ingenious adornment of his rooms. The hall and staircase he
had decorated entirely with trophies of war,--pikes, muskets, pistols,
bandeliers, holsters, drums, pieces of armour, all new and bright were
arranged about the walls in festoons, giving a very curious effect.
From this martial hall Evelyn passed into Rupert's bedroom, and was
immensely struck with the sudden contrast; for there the walls were
hung with beautiful tapestry, and with "curious and effeminate
pictures," all suggestion of war being carefully avoided. Thus
successfully had Rupert {340} represented the two sides,--martial and
artistic,--of his nature.[29]
At this time he devoted himself more closely than ever to his
scientific and mechanical studies, "not disdaining the most sooty and
unpleasant labour of the meanest mechanic."[30] In such harmless and
intelligent pursuits did he find his pleasures. He was not a person of
extravagant tastes, which was fortunate, seeing that his means were not
large, and that his purse was always open to the needy, so that he had
no great margin for personal expenditure. From his trading ventures he
doubtless derived some profits; and in 1660 he had been assigned a
pension of L4,000 per annum. For his naval services he received no
wages, but occasional sums of money offered as the King's "free
gift."[31] As Constable of Windsor he had perquisites, and when he
chose to live at Whitehall, an allowance of food was given him, at the
rate of six dishes per meal.[32] But, after his appointment to Windsor,
he was seldom seen at Whitehall, except when it was necessary to attend
some State funeral, at which functions he was generally required to
play the part of chief mourner.
Sometimes his solitude was disturbed by visitors. In 1670 he
entertained the young Prince of Orange, who had come to marry his
cousin, Mary of York.[33] In May 1671 the Installation of the Garter
was held at Windsor, when the King of Sweden, represented by Lord
Carlisle, and introduced by Rupert and James of York, received the
insignia of the Garter.[34] At intervals the King paid private visits
to his cousin; and in February 1677 he came down with the intention of
spending a week at the castle, but his intention was changed by the
wild conduct of his retinue. {341} "On Wednesday night," says a letter
in the Rutland MSS., "some of the Courtiers fell to their cups and
drank away all reason. At last they began to despise art too, and
broke into Prince Rupert's laboratory, and dashed his stills, and other
chemical instruments to pieces. His Majesty went to bed about twelve
o'clock, but about two or three, one of Henry Killigrew's men was
stabbed in the company in the next chamber to the King.... The Duke
ran speedily to His Majesty's bed, drew the curtain, and said: 'Sir,
will you lie in bed till you have your throat cut?' Whereupon His
Majesty got up, at three o'clock in the night, and came immediately
away to Whitehall."[35]
To such visitors the Prince must infinitely have preferred his
solitude. He was a lonely man; the last, in a sense, of his
generation. Between him and the Courtiers of Charles a great gulf lay.
Will Legge was dead, and most of his other friends had likewise passed
before him. Lord Craven was left, and Ormonde absent in Ireland, but
they were the last of the old regime. For companionship Rupert fell
back on his own "gentlemen," the people of Berkshire, and his dogs.
His "family" was devoted to him, but it seems to have been somewhat
troublesome on occasion. Thus, soon after the Restoration, certain
members of it caused the Lord Chamberlain to search Albemarle's cellars
for gunpowder, a proceeding which naturally excited Albemarle's wrath.
Rupert was so exceedingly annoyed at the occurrence, that he not only
dismissed the servant in fault, but "offered to fight any one who set
the design on foot."[36] Later, we find a petition from a Frenchman,
complaining of an assault made upon him "by several scoundrels of the
Prince's stables."[37]
Rupert's love for dogs had not abated with advancing years. In 1667 he
lost a favourite greyhound, for which {342} he advertised as
follows:--"Lost, a light, fallow-coloured greyhound bitch. She was
lost on Friday last, about twelve of the clock, and whosoever brings
her to Prince Rupert's lodgings at the Stone Gallery, Whitehall, they
shall be well rewarded for their pains."[38] But at Windsor it was a
"faithful great black dog" which was his inseparable companion, and
which accompanied him on the solitary evening rambles which won them
both the reputation of wizards. The fact that he was so regarded by
the country people troubled Rupert not at all, and he referred to it
with grim amusement in writing to his sister Elizabeth.[39]
"And thus," says one of his gentlemen, "our noble and generous Prince
spent the remainder of his years in a sweet and sedate repose, free
from the confused noise and clamour of war, wherewith he had, in his
younger years, been strangely tossed, like a ship, upon the boisterous
waves of fickle and inconstant fortune."
The end came in 1682. For many years Rupert had been quite an
invalid--"fort maladif", as the Danish Ambassador told the Princess
Sophie; not only the old wound in his head, but also an injury to his
leg caused the Prince acute and constant suffering during the last
years of his life. He was at his town house in Spring Gardens,
November 1682, when he was seized with a fever, of which he died in a
few days. It was said that his horror of being bled led him to conceal
the true cause of his suffering until it was too late to remedy it.
"Yesterday Prince Rupert died," says a letter, dated November 30th.
"He was not ill above four or five days; an old hurt in his leg, which
has been some time healed up, broke out again, and put him into an
intermitting fever. But he had a pleurisy withal upon him, which he
concealed, because he would not be let blood until it was too late. He
died in great pain."[40] {343} Rupert made his will, November 27th,
appointing Lord Craven his executor, and guardian of his daughter,
Ruperta; and not forgetting any of those who had served him faithfully.
Two days later he died.[41] His funeral was conducted with all due
state, Lord Craven acting chief mourner; and the King ordered a waxen
effigy of the Prince to be placed, as was then the fashion, beside his
grave. He lies in the chapel of Henry VII, in Westminster Abbey, but
his effigy is not one of those that survive to the present day; and the
verger who points out to us the tombs of George of Denmark and other
insignificant people, passes by that of Rupert of the Rhine without
remark.
[1] Memoir of Prince Rupert, p. 75.
[2] Lansdowne MSS. 817. fols. 157-168. British Museum.
[3] Pepys, 23 June, 1665.
[4] Ibid. 14 July, 1664.
[5] Memoir of Prince Rupert, Preface.
[6] Strickland. Queens of England, VIII. pp. 303-304.
[7] Pepys, 8 Mar. 1669.
[8] D. S. P. Feb. 1669.
[9] Pepys, 2 Sept. 1667.
[10] Knight's London, Vol. II. p. 374.
[11] Dom. State Papers, Nov. 1660.
[12] Ibid. Nov. 1668.
[13] Warburton, III. pp. 508-510.
[14] Campbell, II. 244.
[15] Treskow. Prinz Ruprecht, 210-211.
[16] Dom. State Papers, Apr. 22, 1671.
[17] Ibid. Nov. 17, 1671.
[18] Ibid. Feb. 7, 1668.
[19] Campbell, II. 249.
[20] Dom. St. Papers, 3 June, 1667; 3 May, 1672.
[21] D. S. P. 11 Mar. 1668.
[22] D. S. P. 11, 21 Nov. 1669.
[23] D. S. P. 28 Aug. 1668.
[24] Hist. MSS. Com. Rept. 9. App. III. p. 6a. Sackville MSS.
[25] Hist. MSS. Com. Rept 12. Fleming MSS. p. 54.
[26] D. S. P. 27 Oct. 1670.
[27] Hist. MSS. Com. Rept. 7. 496a.
[28] Memoir of Prince Rupert. 1683. p. 75.
[29] Evelyn's Diary, 28 Aug. 1670. Vol. II. p. 51.
[30] Memoir. 1683. p. 73.
[31] D. S. P. 1668.
[32] Ibid. Aug. 25, 1663,
[33] Hatton Correspondence, I. p. 59.
[34] D. S. P. May 29, 1671
[35] Hist. MSS. Com. Rept. 12. Rutland MSS. Vol. II. p. 38.
[36] Dom. State Papers. Jan 11, 1661.
[37] Ibid. Feb. 2, 1665.
[38] Dom. State Papers, 1667. Chas. II. 187 f. 207.
[39] Strickland, Elizabeth Stuart. Queens of Scotland. Vol. VIII. p.
280.
[40] Hatton Correspondence. II. p. 20, Nov. 30, 1682.
[41] Wills from Doctor's Commons. Camden Society, p. 142.
{344}