Part 14 (2/2)

I confess the best had been to have followed your advice.”[47]

Richmond also lamented Rupert's absence. ”We want money, men, conduct, provisions, time, and good counsel,” he a.s.serted; ”our hope rests chiefly in your good success.”[48]

Rupert was by that time far away in the North. On May 8th he had returned to Shrewsbury, and on the 16th he began his long projected march to York. From Chester he drew out all the men who could be spared, leaving ”honest Will Legge” in their place. At Knutsford he had {144} a successful encounter with some Parliamentary troops; and on the 25th he seized upon Stockport, which so alarmed the forces besieging Lathom House, that they raised the siege, and marched off to Bolton. So strong was the Puritanism of Bolton that it has been called the ”Geneva of England,” and Rupert at once resolved to take the town.

His first a.s.sault was repulsed, and the besieged, in their triumph, hanged one of his Irish troopers over the walls. The insult gave the Prince new stimulus; throwing himself from his horse he called up his retreating men, and renewed the attack with such vigour that the town was quickly stormed, and he entered it with Lord Derby at his side.

The angry troopers sacked the place; and Rupert sent the twenty-two standards he had taken to Lady Derby, as a graceful acknowledgment of her long and valiant defence of Lathom. Recruits now flocked to his standard, and his march became a triumphal progress; so great was the enthusiasm of the loyal town of Wigan, that rushes, flowers and boughs were strewn in the streets before him. On June 11th he won another triumph, in the capture of Liverpool, which suffered a like fate with Bolton. But he was disappointed of the stores he had expected to find there, which were all carried off by sea before the town fell. From Liverpool the Prince wrote a curious letter to the Bishop of Chester, asking for a collection to be made in all the churches of the diocese for the benefit of the sick and wounded soldiers. And he also expressed a desire that the clergy should exhort the people to prepare for their own defence and to maintain their loyalty, in language ”most intelligent to the congregation.”[49]

It was now high time to set out for York, which Newcastle felt that he could hold only six days more. Richmond wrote to urge as much haste as possible. ”If York should be lost,” he said, ”it would prove the greatest blow {145} which could come from those parts, Rupert being safe; but what is fit to be done you will best know and judge.”[50] But Rupert was not just then in a state of mind to judge calmly of anything. His enemies at Court, envious of his recent success, were preparing new calumnies against him, and profiting by his absence to excite the King's distrust. Some did not hesitate to hint at the Prince's over-greatness and possible designs on the Crown itself; and all urged the King to recall him, rather than suffer him to risk his army in a great battle. Trevor thus reported the affair to Ormonde: ”Prince Rupert, by letters from Court, understands that the King grows daily more and more jealous of him, and of his army; so that it is the commonest discourse at the openest places, of the Lord Digby, Lord Percy, Sir John Culpepper, and Wilmot, that it is indifferent whether the Parliament or Prince Rupert doth prevail. Which doth so highly jesuite (_sic_) Prince Rupert that he was resolved once to send the King his commission and get to France. This fury interrupted the march ten days. But at length, time and a friend, the best coolers of the blood, spent the humour of travel in him, though not that of revenge.... This quarrel hath a strong reserve, and I am fearful that a little ill-success will send my new master home into Holland. I perceive the tide's strong against him, and that nothing will bring him to port but that wind which is called _contra gentes_.”[51] And, about the same time, Ormonde was informed by another correspondent, that ”Prince Rupert professeth against Lord Digby, Percy, Wilmot and some others. Some think that he will remove them from the King. The fear of this may do harm; perhaps had done already.”[52] The ten days'

delay was spent chiefly at Lathom House, and by June 22nd, Rupert had sufficiently recovered his temper to set out for York. Some days previously Goring had {146} written that he was ready to join the Prince with 8,000 horse, and only awaited the appointment of a meeting-place. The King, at the same time, demanded Goring's instant return to himself, but Rupert took no notice of the order, being convinced, and rightly as it happened, that Goring's services were more necessary to himself. He joined Goring on the borders of Lancas.h.i.+re and Yorks.h.i.+re. On the 26th he halted at Skipton, to ”fix his armes,”[53] and to send a message to York. On the 29th he quartered at Denton, the house of the Puritan General, Lord Fairfax. Two of the Fairfaxes had fallen years ago, in the fight for the Palatinate, and Rupert, having noticed their portraits, preserved the house uninjured for their sakes. ”Such force hath grat.i.tude in n.o.ble minds,”[54]

comments the Fairfax who tells the story. Lord Fairfax and his son were both engaged at the siege of York, together with Lord Manchester, and the Scotch General, Leven; but there was no good intelligence between the Parliamentary commanders, and they dared not await the onslaught of the Prince. ”Their Goliah himself is advancing, with men not to be numbered,”[55] was the report among the Puritans; and when Rupert reached Knaresborough on June 30th, only twelve miles distant from York, the Generals of the Parliament raised the siege and marched off to Marston Moor. They hoped to bar Rupert's pa.s.sage to the city, but by skilful manoeuvring he crossed the Ouse, and halted outside York. ”Prince Rupert had done a glorious piece of work,” wrote a soldier of the Parliament. ”From nothing he had gathered, without money, a powerful army, and, in spite of all our three generals, had made us leave York.”[56] So far all was well, and well for Rupert had he left things thus! But, alas, he was about to make his first great mistake, and to take a decided step on his downward career.

{147}

The blame of the disastrous battle of Marston Moor has always been laid upon Rupert, but his friends were wont to ascribe it rather to Lord Digby, who, they believed, had inspired the King's ”fatal” letter of June 14th; a letter which Rupert carried about him to his dying day, though he never produced it in refutation of any of the charges against him. ”Had not the Lord Digby, this year, given a fatal direction to that excellent Prince Rupert to fight the Scottish army, surely that great Prince and soldier had never so precipitately fought them,”[57]

declared Sir Philip Warwick, who was himself present at the battle.

The King began his letter with apologies for sending such ”peremptory commands,” but went on to explain: ”If York be lost I shall esteem my crown little less.... But if York be relieved, _and you beat the rebels' army of both Kingdoms, which are before it, then, but otherwise not_, I may possibly make a s.h.i.+ft, upon the defensive, to spin out time until you come to a.s.sist me.”[58] The order was plain, and though Rupert did sometimes ignore less congenial commands, he could scarcely disobey such an order as this, unless he had private information that his uncle's situation was less desperate than he had represented it.

Culpepper, at least, never doubted what would be the Prince's action: ”Before G.o.d you are undone!” he cried, when told that the letter was sent--”For upon this peremptory order he will fight, whatever comes on't!”[59]

And Culpepper was right. Rupert greeted Newcastle with the words, ”My Lord, I hope we shall have a glorious day!” And when Newcastle advised him to wait patiently, until the internal dissensions of the enemy broke up their camp, he retorted, ”Nothing venture, nothing have!” and declared that he had ”a positive and absolute command to fight the enemy.”[60] He showed plainly that he had no {148} intention of listening to the Marquess, at whose cost the whole northern army had been raised and maintained. The older man was silenced, vexed at his subordination to the young Prince whom he had so eagerly called to his aid, and hurt and offended by Rupert's abrupt manners. But, as Professor Gardiner has pointed out, Newcastle's achievements were not such as could inspire great respect in the soldier prince.[61] He was but a dilettante in war as in the gentler arts, and his reasoning was not, on the face of it, very convincing. His manoeuvres might fail; and Rupert, who had not yet met Cromwell's horse, had no reason to suppose that his charge would be less effective now than in time past.

As for the Parliamentary forces, their only hope lay in battle, and they gladly perceived the Prince's intention to fight.

Throughout the day the two armies faced one another; but Rupert dared not attack without Newcastle, and there was considerable delay in drawing out his forces. Trevor reported that, ”The Prince and the Marquess of Newcastle were playing the Orators to the soldiers in York, being in a raging mutiny for their pay, to draw them forth to join the Prince's foot; which was at last effected, but with much unwillingness.”[62] But it was the interest of Rupert's partisans to undervalue the a.s.sistance lent by the Marquess; and Trevor himself did not arrive on the scene till the battle was over. By other accounts it does not seem that the Prince entered the city at all. Though he had not yet met with Cromwell, he had heard of him, and he is said to have asked a prisoner, ”Is Cromwell there? And will they fight?” The answer was in the affirmative, and Rupert despatched the prisoner back to his own army, with the message that they should have ”fighting enough!” To which Cromwell retorted: ”If it please G.o.d, so shall he!”[63] {149} The evening was wild and stormy. As it grew dusk, Rupert ordered prayers to be read to his men, a proceeding much resented by the Puritans, who regarded religion as their own particular monopoly. Earlier in the war, they had complained that the Prince ”pretended piety in his tongue”;[64] and now they declared wrathfully: ”Rupert, that b.l.o.o.d.y plunderer, would forsooth to seem religious!”[65]

The Prince had drawn up his army for immediate attack. In the centre was placed his foot, flanked on the right by Goring's horse; on the left wing, which was opposed to the Scots, Rupert placed his own cavalry. Behind the Prince's army was disposed that of Newcastle, both horse and foot. But by the time that the line of battle was ready, evening had come, and Rupert judged it too late to fight. Here lay his fatal error, for he had drawn up his forces to the very edge of a wide ditch which stretched between himself and the foe; instant attack alone could retrieve the position. Yet Rupert seems to have been unconscious of his mistake, for he showed his sketch of the plan of battle gaily to Lord Eythin (the General King, who had been with him at Vlotho), asking how he liked it. ”By G.o.d, Sir, it is very fine on paper, but there is no such thing in the field!” was Eythin's prompt reply. Then Rupert saw what he had done, and meekly offered to draw back his men. ”No, Sir,” retorted Eythin, ”it is too late.”[66] Seeing that nothing could be done, the Prince sat down on the ground to take his supper, and Newcastle retired to his coach to smoke. In another moment the enemy fired, and the battle had begun. Rupert flew to the head of his horse, but Cromwell's horse charged over the ditch, and Rupert's one chance, that of a.s.suming the offensive, was gone. For a few moments he drove Cromwell back, but Leslie's Scots {150} came up, and Rupert's once invincible cavalry fled before ”Ironside”, as he himself named Cromwell on that day. In the Royalist centre the Scots did deadly work.

Newcastle's Whitecoats fell almost to a man, dying with their own blood the white tunics which they had vowed to dye in the blood of the enemy.

On the right, Goring routed the Yorks.h.i.+re troops of the Fairfaxes, who fled, reporting a Royalist victory; but that success could not redeem the day. Rupert's army was scattered, Newcastle's brave troopers were cut to pieces, York fallen, the whole north lost, and--worst of all--Rupert's prestige destroyed. Arthur Trevor, arriving at the end of the battle, found all in confusion, ”not a man of them being able to give me the least hope where the Prince was to be found.”[67] Rupert had, in fact, finding himself all alone, leapt his horse over a high fence into a bean-field, and, sheltered by the growing beans, he made his way to York, ”escaping narrowly, by the goodness of his horse.”[68]

Dead upon that fatal field he left his much loved dog. In the hurry and excitement of the charge he had forgotten to tie it up with the baggage waggons, and it followed him into the battle. ”Among the dead men and horses which lay upon the ground, we found Prince Rupert's dog killed,” says Vicars.[69]

It was reported by the Puritans that Rupert declared himself unable to account for the disaster, except by the supposition that ”the devil did help his servants;” a speech characterised as ”most atheistical and heathenish.”[70] The Prince blamed Newcastle, and Newcastle blamed the Prince; but the manner in which each took his defeat is so characteristic as to deserve quotation.

”Sayes Generall King, 'What will you do?'

”Sayes ye Prince, 'I will rally my men.'

{151}

”Sayes Generall King, 'Nowe you, what will you, Lord Newcastle, do?'

”Sayes Lord Newcastle, 'I will go into Holland.'

”The Prince would have him endeavour to recruit his forces. 'No,'

sayes he, 'I will not endure the laughter of the Court.'”[71]

Newcastle's decision was the subject of much discussion at Court. ”I am sure the reckoning is much inflamed by my Lord Newcastle's going,”[72] declared O'Neil, who on this occasion sided with the Prince. Rupert had done his best to detain both Eythin and the Marquess, but when he found his efforts vain, he let them depart, promising to report that Newcastle had behaved ”like an honest man, a gentleman, and a loyal subject.”[73] Eythin he found it harder to forgive; and some months later that General wrote to represent the ”mult.i.teud of grieffs” he endured through the Prince's bad opinion of him. ”I would rather suffer anything in the world, than live innocently in Your Highness's malgrace,”[74] he declared.

Rupert's own conduct was soldierly enough. Bitterly though he felt the position, he was of stronger mould than the fantastic Marquess.

Clarendon blames him severely for leaving York, but Clarendon was no soldier, and he did not understand that the attempt to hold the city, with no hope of relief, would have been sheer madness. What Rupert could do, he did: gathering together the shattered remnants of his army, he marched away into Shrops.h.i.+re, ”according to the method he had before laid for his retreat; taking with him all the northern horse which the Earl of Newcastle left to His Highness, and brought them into his quarters in Wales, and there endeavoured to recruit what he could.”[75] On the second day of his retreat he halted at Richmond, {152} where he remained three days, ”staying for the scattered troops.”

On July 7th he resumed his march, and pa.s.sing by Lathom House, whence Lord Derby had departed, he came on the 25th to Chester. On the Welsh Marches he wandered until the end of August, foraging, recruiting, skirmis.h.i.+ng, while the Parliament exulted in his overthrow. ”As for Rupert which shed so much innocent blood at Bolton and at Liverpool, if you ask me where he is, we seriously protest that we know not where to find him.”[76]

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