CHAPTER III.

1667-1668.

Prince Rupert -- His Character -- Serves through the Civil War

-- His Naval Expedition in the West Indies -- Residence in

France -- And ultimately in London -- He receives Groseilliers

and introduces him to the King.

It was a fortunate chance for Medard Chouart des Groseilliers that

threw him, as we shall see, into the hands of such a man as Rupert,

Prince of England and Bohemia.

A dashing soldier, a daring sailor, a keen and enlightened student, a

man of parts, and at the age of forty-seven still worshipping

adventure as a fetish and irresistibly attracted by anything that

savoured of novelty, there was perhaps no other noble in England more

likely to listen to such a project as the Canadian was prepared to

pour into his ear, no prince in the whole of Europe more likely to

succumb to its charm.

Rupert may, on good grounds, be considered one of the most remarkable

men of that age. He was the third son of the King of Bohemia by the

Princess Elizabeth Stuart, eldest daughter of James I. In common with

most German princes he had been educated for the army; and, as he used

to observe himself in after years, there was no profession better

fitted for a prince provided he could be allowed to fight battles. It

was a maxim of his that the arts of patience, of strategy, and

parleying with the enemy should be left to statesmen and caitiffs; and

it can be said with truth of Rupert that no one could possibly have

acted more completely in accordance with his rule than himself. "Than

Prince Rupert," wrote a chronicler at his death, "no man was more

courageous or intrepid. He could storm a citadel but, alas, he could

never keep it. A lion in the fray, he was a very lamb, tho' a fuming

one, if a siege was called for."

[Illustration: PRINCE RUPERT.

(_After a painting by Vandyke._)]

Youthful, high-spirited and of comely appearance, Rupert found his way

to England during his twentieth year to offer his services to his

royal uncle, King Charles I. The country was then on the brink of a

civil war. Parliament had proved refractory. The Puritan forces had

already assembled; and in a few months the first blow was struck. The

young Prince placed himself at the head of a troop of cavaliers and

soon all England was ringing with the fame of his exploits. On more

than one occasion did Cromwell have reason to remember the prowess of

"fiery Prince Rupert."

[Sidenote: The Great Company's Founder.]

Such dashing tactics and spontaneous strategy, however, could not

always prevail. He was charged with the defence of Bristol, with what

result is a matter of common historical knowledge. His own observation

on this episode in his career is an admirable epitome of his

character, as comprehensive as it is brief, "I have no stomach for

sieges."

Charles wrote him a letter of somewhat undue severity, in which he

exhibited all the asperity of his character as well as his ignorance

of the situation. Perhaps if he had realized that the circumstances

would have rendered the retention of Bristol impossible even to a

Caesar or a Turenne, he might have written in a more tolerant strain;

but it is not very probable. In any case the letter cut Rupert to the

heart.

Before his final overthrow Charles, indeed, relented from his

severity, and created his nephew Earl of Holdernesse and Duke of

Cumberland, granting him also a safe conduct to France, which was

honoured by the Parliamentary leaders.

Thenceforward for a few years Rupert's career is directly associated

with the high seas. On the revolt of the fleet from the control of the

Commonwealth he made his way on board of one of the King's vessels,

and figured in several naval battles and skirmishes. But even here the

result was a foregone conclusion. The bulk of the ships and crews

still remaining loyal were rapidly captured or sunk, and the remnant,

of which Rupert assumed command, was exceedingly small. He began by

sailing to Ireland, whither he was pursued by Popham and Blake, who

very quickly blocked him up in the harbour of Kinsale. But the Puritan

captains were deceived if, as it appears, they fancied the Prince an

easy prey. Rupert was no more the sailor than he had been the soldier

to brook so facile a capture. He effected a bold escape, just under

their guns. But realizing his helplessness to engage the Puritan fleet

in open combat, he inaugurated a series of minor conflicts, a kind of

guerilla warfare, which, to our modern notions, would best be

classified under the head of privateering, to use no harsher term.

[Sidenote: A resemblance to piracy.]

The Spanish Main was at that period an excellent ground for operations

of this kind, and with very little delay Rupert was soon very busy

with his small but gallant fleet in those waters. Here the commander

of the little _Reformation_ and his convoys spent three years with no

little pecuniary profit to himself and crew. On more than one occasion

his exploits in the neighbourhood of the West Indies bore no distant

resemblance to piracy, as he boarded impartially not only English,

Dutch and Spanish ships, but also those flying the English colours.

Howbeit on one occasion, being advised that the master of one craft

was a Frenchman, he generously forebore to reap the profits of his

valour out of respect to the monarch with whom both his cousins,

Charles and James, had found a refuge. He insisted that the plunder

should be restored. On the whole, however, Rupert seems to have had

little conscience in the matter. The mere excitement of such

adventures alone delighted him, although it would scarce have

satisfied his crews. There is reason to suppose that he himself was

not actuated primarily by the mere love of gain. It is known that

several of his captains returned with large fortunes; Rupert's own

profits were long a matter for conjecture. Even at his death they

could not be approximately ascertained; for while he left a goodly

fortune, comprising jewels valued at twenty thousand pounds, much of

this fortune was acquired legitimately since these stirring days of

his youth; and no small part was derived from his share in the

Hudson's Bay Company.

The exiled prince, in whose name Rupert was always extremely careful

to conduct his depredations on the prosperous commerce of the West

Indies, does not appear himself to have derived much material

advantage therefrom. It was true the terror of his name was already

industriously spread in those waters, and this perhaps was some

consolation for the contempt with which it was regarded by the

insolent and usurping Puritans. In a newspaper of the period,

"Pleasant Passages," I find under date of October 15, 1652, the

following quaint comment:

"Prince Rupert hath lately seized on some good prizes and he keeps

himself far remote; and makes his kinsman, Charles Stuart, make a leg

for some cullings of his windfalls."

[Sidenote: Loss of the "Reformation."]

Rupert after a time transferred the scene of his operations to the

Azores, where after some collisions with the Portuguese, he met with a

catastrophe so severe as to compel him to permanently desist from his

predatory operations. A violent storm came on, and the _Reformation_

and his entire fleet perished, no fewer than 360 souls being lost on

the flagship. It was with difficulty that the Prince and twelve of his

companions, including his brother Maurice, escaped with a portion of

the treasure. A contemporary news-writer records that Rupert had

landed at Nantes with ten thousand pounds or so, "'tis said by those

best informed. The King hath sent his carriage to meet him at

Orleans."

Charles, who was of course the King mentioned, was then in high hopes

of obtaining funds from his cousin Rupert, which might enable him to

make an effort for the recovery of his crown. But the king, minus a

throne, was destined to be disappointed. Rupert did not yet seem

prepared to disgorge, acting, it is easy to see, on advice.[8]

"No money for his Majesty out of all this," forms the burden of

numerous letters written by the faithful Edward Hyde, afterwards to

become the Lord Chancellor Clarendon.

"The money the King should have received!" he complains, in an epistle

addressed to Sir Richard Browne. "Why, Rupert is so totally governed

by the Lord Keeper, Sir Edward Herbert, that the King knows him not.

The King hasn't had a penny, and Rupert pretends the King owes him

more than ever I was worth."

Hyde had no love for the Lord Keeper of the exiled court; but

according to several contemporary writers, the buccaneering Prince

looked upon Herbert as "an oracle," (to quote the diarist Evelyn) and

chose for a time at least to spend most of his gains in his own way.

But Rupert did not persist in the course suggested by his friend

Herbert. Soon afterwards he is announced to have made Charles a

present of two thousand pounds, for which the King expressed his

profound satisfaction by attaching him immediately to the royal

household.

A little later, in 1654, there is recorded the following, printed in

the "Loyal Gentleman at Court."

"Prince Rupert flourishes highly here, with his troop of blackamoors;

and so doth his cousin Charles, they having shared the money made of

his prize goods at Nantz."

[Sidenote: Rupert's Secretary.]

It was in this year that Rupert seems to have engaged one William

Strong, a cavalier who had lost all he possessed, to replace John

Holder as his private secretary, a circumstance worthy of mention,

inasmuch as it was Strong who was to figure later as the intermediary

between his master and the adventurer Groseilliers in London.

There is a passage of this period which describes Rupert as he

appeared in Paris, "a straight and comely man, very dark-featured,"

probably owing to exposure in warm climates, "with jet black hair and

a great passion for dress." He is often referred to in news-letters

and diaries of the time under the sobriquet of the "Black Prince."

"Our Black Prince Ruperte" records one, "has had a narrow escape from

drowning in the Seine; but by the help of one of his blackamoors

escaped."

This was perhaps the period of the closest friendship between Charles

and his Bohemian cousin; inasmuch as a decided coolness had already

arisen on the part of the exiled monarch and his brother, the Duke of

York. This coolness at length terminated in a quarrel, and a

separation in the ensuing year at Bruges. Indeed, the Duke advised

Rupert to have no further dealings with his royal brother, a

proposition which the Prince wisely, and fortunately for himself,

neglected to entertain, for had he acted otherwise, it is extremely

doubtful if at the Restoration he would have been in a position to

demand any favours at the monarch's hands. James, probably on this

score, never afterwards professed much cordiality towards his kinsman,

Rupert.

[Sidenote: A patron of commerce.]

In the years between 1656 and 1665, Rupert spent much of his time in

cultivating science and the arts. There are a hundred evidences of his

extraordinary ingenuity. A mere list of his devices and inventions, as

printed at his decease in 1682, almost entitles him to be considered

the Edison of his day, a day in which inventors were rare. Yet in the

period before the outbreak of the Dutch war his activity was by no

means limited to the laboratory which he had constructed for himself

in Kings' Bench Walk, Temple, or to his study at Windsor. None could

have exhibited greater versatility. In April, 1662, he was sworn a

member of the Privy Council; he also became a member of the Tangier

Commission; and in December of the same year he was unanimously

elected a Fellow of the Royal Society. He already cut a prominent

figure as a patron of commerce, being appointed a member of the

Council of Trade, and taking an active part in the promotion of

commerce with Africa as a member of the Royal African Company.

With all his sympathies and activities, however, it is very clear that

Rupert did not enjoy very great favour at Court. He was suspected of

holding his royal cousin in not very high esteem, and of entertaining

pronounced opinions on the subject of the royal prerogative; whatever

the cause, his influence at Whitehall was not always fortunate. Seeing

his councils neglected on several occasions, he kept aloof, and the

courtiers, taking as they supposed their cue from their master, made

light of his past achievements, finding in his surrender of the city

of Bristol, a specially suitable subject for their derision.

In 1664 we find in Pepys' Diary that Rupert had been "sent to command

the Guinny Fleet. Few pleased, as he is accounted an unhappy [_i.e._,

unlucky] man." As a consequence of these sentiments, which Rupert was

soon destined by his valour to alter, one Captain Holmes was sent

instead. Nevertheless it was known at Court that Rupert desired a

naval employment, and as the authorities found that their estimate of

his abilities was not mistaken, he was in 1666 selected to command the

fleet against the Dutch, in conjunction with the Duke of Albemarle.

His conduct was most exemplary. On one occasion he wrested a victory

from the Dutch, and again in the month of June beat them soundly,

pursuing them into their own harbour. Returning to England on the

cessation of hostilities, he found himself in much higher favour at

Court. But with a single exception, which I will proceed to relate,

Rupert sought no favours at the hands of his royal relations from this

moment until the day of his death. He was content to pursue an even

career in comparative solitude, a circumstance for which a serious

physical ailment, which soon overtook and for a time threatened his

life, was no doubt in some measure responsible. The fire which

distinguished his youth was exchanged, we are told, for good temper

and sedateness. He was credited with writing an autobiography, but if

the report be true, it is a pity there remains no tangible evidence of

such an intention. It is certain that his correspondence was so large

as to entail the continuous employment of a secretary, William Strong;

but prior to the inception of the Hudson's Bay project, it probably

related almost entirely to his chemical and scientific researches and

achievements.

In May, 1667, the Prince's secretary opened a letter from Lord

Preston, then English ambassador at Paris, intimating that one M. des

Groseilliers, a Canadian fur-trader, would be the bearer of an

introductory letter from himself to his highness. He was convinced

that the French were managing the fur-trade of New France very

clumsily, and he added that Monsieur des Groseilliers seemed as much

disaffected towards the new company lately chartered by the French

king as towards the old. There is no reason, in the writer's opinion,

why English men of commerce should not avail themselves of

opportunities and instruments, such as the weak policy of their rivals

now afforded, for obtaining a share in the northern fur-trade.

[Sidenote: Rupert sends for Groseilliers.]

Unfortunately Rupert was at first unable to see the adventurer who had

travelled so far. The cause of the delay is not quite clear, but it

appears plausible to suppose that it was due to the Prince's illness.

He had already undergone the operation of trepanning, and it was found

necessary to still continue treatment for the disease to which he had

been subject. At any rate it was a fortnight or three weeks before the

first interview took place, and the Prince and the French trader did

not meet until the 4th of June. The result of this interview was that

Prince Rupert promised his credit for the scheme. Three days later he

sent for Groseilliers, who found on his arrival in the Prince's

apartments several gentlemen, among whom Lord Craven, Sir John

Robinson and Mr. John Portman appear to have been numbered. In a week

from this conference both Radisson, Groseilliers and Portman travelled

to Windsor Castle at the request of the Prince. There is no record of

what then passed, but there is mention of a further meeting in a

letter written by Oldenburgh, the secretary of the Royal Society to

Robert Boyle, in America.

"Surely I need not tell you from hence" he wrote, "what is said here

with great joy of the discovery of a north-west passage by two

Englishmen and one Frenchman, lately represented by them to his

Majesty at Oxford and, answered by the grant of a vessel to sail into

Hudson's Bay and channel into the South Sea."

From this it would appear that Radisson was then popularly supposed to

be an Englishman, probably on account of his being Sir John Kirke's

son-in-law, and also that the matter was not settled at Windsor, but

at Oxford.

Then came a long delay--during which there is nothing worthy of

record. It was too late to attempt a voyage to the Bay in 1667, but

during the autumn and winter Groseilliers and Radisson could console

themselves with the assurance that their scheme had succeeded.

For at last the adventurers had met with a tangible success. A ship

was engaged and fitted out for them; and it was none other than that

commanded by their Boston friend, Captain Zachary Gillam.

FOOTNOTE:

[8] "We have another great officer," records "Pleasant Passages" in

another budget of news from Paris, "Prince Ruperte, Master of the

Horse."

The Great Company · 第 3 / 36 章