Part 6 (2/2)
[13] Ibid. Oct. 1641. Chas. I. 484 f. 61.
[14] Lansdowne MSS. 817. British Museum.
[15] Warburton. I. p. 459.
[16] Dom. S. Papers. Boswell to Roe. 23 Dec. 1641. Chas. I. 486. f.
53.
[17] Dom. State Papers. Chas. I. 486. f. 51. Elizabeth to Roe, 23 Dec. 1641.
[18] Forster's Statesmen, Vol. VI. p. 74. 10 March, 1642.
{59}
CHAPTER V
ARRIVAL IN ENGLAND. POSITION IN THE ARMY. CAUSES OF FAILURE
During his last brief visit to England Rupert had promised to serve his uncle whensoever he should have need of him; and in August 1642, he received, through Queen Henrietta, his Commission, as General of the Horse. Immediately upon this he set out to join the King in England.
He embarked in the ”Lyon,” the s.h.i.+p which had brought the Queen to Holland; but, after the Prince had come on board, the Commander, who was of Puritan sympathies, received a warning against bringing him over. Captain Fox's anxiety to get rid of his pa.s.senger was favoured by the weather. A storm blew them back to the Texel, and there Fox persuaded the Prince to go ash.o.r.e, promising to meet him at Goree so soon as the wind should serve. Rupert thereupon returned to the Hague, and Fox, after quietly setting the Prince's people and luggage on sh.o.r.e, sailed away, and was no more seen in Holland.
Enraged and disappointed, Rupert appealed to the Stadtholder, who lent him another s.h.i.+p, commanded by Captain Colster. This time Maurice insisted on accompanying his brother, and the two Princes, having provided themselves with an engineer, a ”fire worker,” and a large store of arms, muskets, and powder, set sail for Scarborough. Near Flamborough Head they were spied by some Parliamentary cruisers, and a s.h.i.+p called the ”London” came out to hail them. Colster hoisted the Dunkirk colours, but the other Captain, still unsatisfied, desired to search the small vessel in which the arms were stored. Rupert, who had been extremely, and even dangerously, ill throughout the voyage, {60} struggled on deck ”in a mariner's cap” and ordered out the guns, saying he would not be searched. On this the ”London” shot to leeward, and two other s.h.i.+ps came out to her aid. But Rupert succeeded in running into Tynemouth, and, anchoring outside the bar, landed by means of boats. His little vessel also escaped, and landed her stores safely at Scarborough in the night.[1]
When they reached Tynemouth it was already late, but Rupert's eagerness would brook no delay. ”The zeale he had speedily to serve His Majesty made him think diligence itself were lazy.”[2] Accompanied by Maurice, an Irish officer, Daniel O'Neil, and several others, he started at once for Nottingham. But the stars, in their courses, fought against him.
As ill luck would have it, Rupert's horse slipped and fell, pitching him on to his shoulder. The shoulder was discovered to be out of joint, but, ”by a great providence,” it happened that a bone-setter lived only half a mile away. This man, being sent for in haste, set Rupert's shoulder in the road, and, ”in conscience, took but one-half of what the Prince offered him for his pains.” Within three hours the indefatigable Rupert insisted on continuing his journey.
Arrived at Nottingham, he retired to bed, but he was not destined long to enjoy his well-earned rest. A curious dilemma now brought him into contact with the two men who were to prove, respectively, his warmest friend and his bitterest foe, in the Royal Army,--namely, Captain Will Legge, and George, Lord Digby. The King, who was at Coventry, had sent to Digby, demanding a petard. Odd though it may appear, a petard was to Digby a thing unknown--”a word which he could not understand.” He therefore sought out the weary Prince to demand an explanation.
Rupert, at once, got out of bed to search the a.r.s.enal; but no such thing as a petard was to be found. Then, {61} Captain Legge, coming to the rescue, contrived to make one out of two mortars, and sent it off to the King.[3] Rupert, following the petard, found his uncle at Leicester Abbey, and there formally took over charge of the cavalry, which then consisted of only eight hundred horse. On the next day, August 22nd, they all returned to Nottingham, where the solemn setting up of the Royal Standard took place.
War was now irrevocably declared, and Rupert found his generals.h.i.+p no sinecure. The King, in these early days, relied implicitly on his nephew's advice, and, though Commander of the Cavalry only in name, Rupert had in reality the whole conduct of the war upon his hands. The real Commander-in-Chief was old Lord Lindsey, but Rupert's position was one of complete independence. He was, indeed, instructed to consult the Council of War, but was also directed ”to advise privately, as you shall think fit, and to govern your resolution accordingly.”[4]
Further, he requested that he might receive his orders only from the King himself. And this request King Charles unwisely conceded, thus freeing Rupert from all control of the Commander-in-Chief, dividing the army into two independent parties, and establis.h.i.+ng a fruitful source of discord between the cavalry and infantry.
Yet Rupert was in many respects well-fitted for his post.
Distinguished by his dauntless courage and resolute nature, he was possessed also of a knowledge of war such as was not to be learnt in England. He was really the only professional soldier of high rank in the army, and he proved himself both a clever strategist, and a good leader of cavalry, though he did unfortunately lack the patience and discretion necessary to the making of a successful general. ”That brave Prince and hopeful soldier, Rupert,” wrote the gallant Sir Philip Warwick, ”though a {62} young man, had in martial affairs some experience, and a good skill, and was of such intrepid courage and activity, that,--clean contrary to former practice, when the King had great armies, but no commanders forward to fight,--[5] he ranged and disciplined that small body of men;--of so great virtue is the personal courage and example of one great commander. And indeed to do him right, he put that spirit into the King's army that all men seemed resolved, and had he been as cautious as he was a forward fighter, he had, most probably, been a very fortunate one. He showed a great and exemplary temperance, which fitted him to undergo the fatigues of a war, so as he deserved the character of a soldier. _Il etait toujours soldat_! For he was never negligent by indulgence to his pleasures, or apt to lose his advantages.”[6]
In truth Rupert's cheerfulness and brilliant courage inspired confidence in his own troops, and terror in those of the enemy. ”There was no more consternation in the King's troops now. Every one grew a.s.sured. The most timorous was afraid to show fear under such a general, whose courage was increased by the esteem we had of him.”[7]
And throughout the war Rupert was the very life of the Royalist army; ”adored by the hot-blooded young officers, as by the st.u.r.dy troopers, who cried, when they entered a fallen city: 'D---- us! The town is Prince Rupert's!'”[8]
The very first skirmish of the war established his reputation. The terrified Puritans spread abroad reports of the ”incredible and unresistible courage of Prince Rupert,”[9] which grew and multiplied as the war proceeded, until Rupert, ”exalted with the terror his name gave to the enemy,”[10] would not believe that any troops could {63} withstand his charge. ”The enemy is possest with so strange and senseless a feare as they will not believe any place tenable to which Your Highness will march,”[11] reported his officers. Nor was it wonderful that the Puritans deemed him something more than human.
Conspicuous always by his dress and unusual height, ever foremost in the charge, utterly ”prodigal of his person,” he bore a charmed life.
Twice pistols were fired in his face, without doing him the slightest harm. Once his horse was killed under him, but ”he marched off on foot leisurely, without so much as mending his pace.”[12] While guarding the retreat from Brentford he stood alone for hours, exposed to a heavy fire, and yet came off unscathed. ”Nephew, I must conjure you not to hazard yourself so nedlessely,”[13] wrote his anxious uncle; but the King's anxiety was uncalled for, Rupert remained uninjured till the end of the war, though Maurice was wounded in almost every action in which he engaged.
The Austrians at Vlotho had called Rupert ”shot free”, and so he seemed now to Puritan and Cavalier.
<script>