Part 19 (2/2)

A troop of officers volunteered to escort him, and Maurice brought an addition of strength, making about 120 in all.

The enemy had posted about 1,500 horse at various places, to intercept the Princes' march, but all were skilfully evaded. Near the end of their journey, however, the Princes found themselves stopped at Belvoir Bridge, by Rossetter with three hundred horse. There was no choice but to charge through them. Two attempts failed, and Rupert turned to his men, saying cheerfully: ”We have beaten them twice, we must beat them once more, and then over the pa.s.s, and away.”[44] The third charge, carried them through the enemy, as he promised, and then they divided into two parties. The larger troop went on, with the baggage, to Belvoir; but the Princes, with about twenty more, proceeded by a short cut, which Rupert remembered pa.s.sing ten years before when a boy, ”shooting of conies.” Here they were hotly pursued by a body of horse, and the enemy, thinking the Prince trapped, offered him quarter. His only answer was to direct his friends to follow him closely, and, breaking through the hostile ranks, they came safely to Belvoir Castle.[45]

Digby had not awaited the Prince's arrival, but had fled north, on the pretext of leading a force to join Montrose; and it was thought, on all sides, that he had done wisely. The King no sooner heard of his nephews' arrival at Belvoir than he sent to forbid their nearer approach. ”Least of all I cannot forget what opinion you were of when I was at Cardiff,” he wrote to Rupert, ”and therefore must remember {195} you of the letter I wrote to you from thence, in the Duke of Richmond's cipher, warning you that if you be not resolved to carry yourself according to my resolution, therein mentioned, you are no fit company for me.”[46]

In defiance of this prohibition, Rupert came on next day to Newark.

Within the town there existed a considerable party in his favour, headed by the Governor, Sir Richard w.i.l.l.ys. Two days earlier w.i.l.l.ys had received the King at the city gates, but he now rode out a couple of miles, with a large escort of horse, to meet the Prince. The accounts of the scene that followed are many, but all agree in the main points. Rupert walked straight into the presence of the King, and, without any apology or ceremony, abruptly informed him ”that he was come to render an account of the loss of Bristol.”[47] The King made no reply,--he probably did not know what to say,--and immediately went to supper. His nephews followed, and stood by him during the meal; but, though he asked a few questions of Maurice, he still would not speak to Rupert. After an embarra.s.sing hour the King retired to his bed-chamber, and the Princes went to the house of w.i.l.l.ys.

On the next morning Rupert was permitted to lay his defence before a court-martial, which acquitted him of any lack of ”courage or fidelity,” though not of indiscretion.[48] The verdict, though qualified, was in effect a triumph for Rupert, and completely vindicated his honour. As to the relief which the King fancied he had intended to send to Bristol, Sir Edward Walker, no friend to Rupert, admits that ”it was a very plausible design on paper,... and I fear it would have been a longer time than we fancied to ourselves, before we made both ends to meet.”[49] Here the matter should have ended, and had it done so, the whole {196} affair would have been little to Rupert's discredit. Unfortunately his pa.s.sionate temper now put him completely in the wrong.

The King had resolved to quit Newark, and, remembering w.i.l.l.ys's frequent quarrels with the Commissioners of the County, and also his recent display of partisans.h.i.+p, he judged it unwise to leave him behind. For this reason he ordered him to change posts with Bellasys, who, since the death of Lord Bernard Stuart, had commanded the King's guards. This was promotion for w.i.l.l.ys, but a very unwelcome promotion, for which he perfectly understood the King's motives. Moreover, Bellasys was Digby's friend, and the whole military party rose in protest against this new evidence of Digby's power. It was agreed that w.i.l.l.ys should demand the grounds for his removal, and a trial by court-martial. The stormy scene which resulted has been rather confusedly described by Walker, Clarendon and others, but the best account is to be found in the diary of Symonds, though he unhappily repented of having written it, and tore a part of it out of his book.

The King had just returned from church, and sat down to dinner, when Rupert, Maurice, Gerard, w.i.l.l.ys and some other officers entered the room. Rupert ”came in discontentedly, with his hands at his sides, and approached very near the King.” Charles thereupon ordered the dinner to be taken away, and, rising, walked to a corner of the room. Rupert, Gerard and w.i.l.l.ys followed him. w.i.l.l.ys spoke first, asking, respectfully enough, to be told the names of his accusers. Rupert broke in impatiently: ”By G.o.d! This is done in malice to me, because Sir Richard hath always been my faithful friend!” Gerard then launched into a protest on his own account, and Rupert again interrupted, saying: ”The cause of all this is Digby!”--”I am but a child! Digby can do what he will with me,” retorted the King bitterly.--A long and violent altercation followed. Rupert referred to Bristol, and the King sighed, ”O nephew!” {197} and then stopped short. Whereupon Rupert cried, for the third time: ”Digby is the man that hath caused all this distraction between us!” But the King could endure no more: ”They are all rogues and rascals that say so!” he answered sharply, ”and in effect traitors that seek to dishonour my best subjects!” There was no more to be said; Gerard bowed and went out. Rupert ”showed no reverence, but went out proudly, his hands at his sides.”[50]

That evening the Princes and their party sent in a pet.i.tion to the effect that: ”Many of us trusted in high commands in Your Majesty's service, have not only our commissions taken away without any cause or reason expressed, whereby our honours are blemished to the world, our fortunes ruined, and we rendered incapable of command from any foreign prince,--but many others, as we have cause to fear, are designed to suffer in like manner.”[51] They repeated their demand for trials by court-martial, and desired that, if this were refused, they might have pa.s.ses to go over seas. The King answered that he would not make a court-martial the judge of his actions, and sent the pa.s.ses. Next morning about ten o'clock, the two princes and Lord Gerard came privately to the bed-chamber to take their leave. Gerard ”expressed some sense of folly,”[52] but the Princes offered no apology, and, with about two hundred officers, they rode off to Belvoir, ”the King looking out of a window, and weeping to see them go.”[53]

As an instance of the way in which stories are exaggerated, Pepys's account of the affair, written some twenty years after, is instructive: ”The great officers of the King's army mutinied and came, in that manner, with swords drawn, into the market-place of the town where the King was. Whereupon the King says, 'I must horse,' and {198} there himself personally; when every one expected they should be opposed, the King came, and cried to the head of the mutineers, which was Prince Rupert,--'Nephew, I command you to be gone!' So the Prince, in all his fury and discontent, withdrew; and his company scattered.”[54]

This was the climax of the long-continued strife between the military and civilian parties; the civilians had triumphed, and the princes now resolved to leave the country. In great indignation, a large number of officers prepared to follow them. ”This is an excellent reward for Rupert and Maurice!” declared Gerard wrathfully.[55] Rupert himself wrote to Legge: ”Dear Will, I hope Goodwin has told you what reasons I had to quit His Majesty's service. I have sent Osborne to London for a pa.s.s to go beyond seas; when I have an answer you shall know more.

Pray tell Sir Charles Lucas that I would have written to him before this, and to George Lisle, but I was kept close here.... If I can but get permission, I shall hope to see you and the rest of my friends once more; and in particular to bid farewell to my Lord Portland. I forgot to tell you that Lord Digby is beaten back again to s.h.i.+pton. Alas, poor man!”[56]

Osborne, whom Rupert had sent to London to obtain from the Parliament a pa.s.s and safe convoy to a sea-port, found his mission greatly facilitated by Digby's new defeat, and the consequent capture of his papers. It was characteristic of the Secretary, that, though his love-letters were carefully preserved in cipher, all those of political importance were written in plain language. Among these papers was found a copy of the King's answer to Rupert's advice to treat, and the Parliament was moved thereby in Rupert's favour. A pa.s.s was granted, but on condition of a promise given never again to bear arms against the {199} Parliament. This promise the Princes would not give; and, as they could not possibly leave the country without the Parliament's good will, they fought their way back to Woodstock.

A few weeks later Charles returned to Oxford, and at once released Legge from his confinement. Rupert was still at Woodstock, and his faithful friend lost no time in attempting to mediate between him and the King. ”My most dear Prince,” he wrote, November 21st, ”the liberty I have got is but of little contentment when divided from you..., I have not hitherto lost a day without moving His Majesty to recall you; and truly, this very day, he protested to me he would count it a great happiness to have you with him, so he received the satisfaction he is bound in honour to have. What that is you will receive from the Duke of Richmond. The King says, as he is your Uncle, he is in the nature of a parent to you, and swears that if Prince Charles had done as you did he would never see him again, without the same he desires from you.... you must thank the d.u.c.h.ess of Richmond, for she furnished a present to procure this messenger--I being not so happy as to have any money myself.”[57] And four days later, he wrote again: ”I am of opinion you should write to your Uncle--you ought to do it--; and if you offered your service to him yet, and submitted yourself to his disposing and advice, many of your friends think it could not be a dishonour, but rather the contrary, seeing he is a King, your Uncle, and, in effect, a parent to you.”[58]

But Rupert sulked, like Achilles in his tent, and his other friends took up the protest. ”This night I was with the King, who expresses great kindness to you, but beleevs y^r partinge was so much the contrary as Y^r Highnes cannot but think it finill,” wrote an anonymous correspondent, ”Now truly, Sir, His Majesty conceiving it soe, in my {200} opinion, 'tis ffitt you should make sume hansume applycation, for this reason; because my Lord Duke and others here, are much your servants, and all that are so wish your return to courte, though it be but to part frindlye. But I think it necessary you should prepare the way first by letters to the Kinge. Sir, I have no designes in this but your service, and if you understand me rightlye, that will prevayle so far as you will consider what I saye before you resolve the contrarye.

I knowe there be sum that are your enemies, but they are such as may barcke, but I am confident are not able to fight against you appeare.

Therefore, Sir, I beseech you, do not contrybute to the satisfaction of your foes, and the ruyne of your friends, by neglecting anything in your power to make peace with fortune. If after all your attempts to be rightlye understood you shall fayle of that, yet you cannot waynt honor for the action. 'Tis your Uncle you shall submit to, and a King, not in the condition he meryt! What others may saye I knowe not, but really, soe may I speak my opinion as a person that valews you above all the world besydes. I am confident you know how faithfully my harte is to your Highness!”[59] Also from Lord Dorset came a pathetic appeal: ”If my prayers can prevail, you shall not have the heart to leave us all in our saddest times. If my advice were worthy of following, surely you should not abandon your Uncle in the disastrous condition these evil storms have placed him in.”[60]

These exhortations and entreaties at length prevailed; the Prince suffered his natural generosity to overcome his pride, and was induced to write the required apology: ”I humbly acknowledge that great error, which I find your Majesty justly sensible of, which happened upon occasion at Newark.”[61] Several letters pa.s.sed, and Charles then sent {201} his nephew, ”by Colonel Legge, a paper to confess a fault.”

Rupert returned a blank sheet with his signature subscribed, to signify his perfect submission to his Uncle's will: ”the King, with tears in his eyes, took that so well that all was at peace.... The Prince went to Oxford, and the King embraced him, and repented much the ill-usage of his nephew.” To this account of the reconciliation, is appended the marginal note, ”ask the d.u.c.h.ess of Richmond,” but the information that she was able to supply was never filled in.[62]

Rupert was now restored to the favour and the counsels of his Uncle, but not to military command. The war was practically over, and though the King would have had his nephew raise a new life-guard, the Oxford Council quashed the design. Then Charles confided to Rupert his intention of taking refuge with the Scottish army. The Prince distrusted the Scots, and strongly combated the idea; but, finding that he could not move the King's resolution, he obtained from him a signed statement that he acted against his nephew's advice. For one mistake, at least, the Prince would not be held responsible. April 27th, 1646, the King left Oxford secretly, rejecting Rupert's companions.h.i.+p on the grounds that his ”tallness” would betray him.[63]

Oxford was now almost the last town holding out; on the first of May, Fairfax sat down before it, and the end was not long in coming. A little skirmis.h.i.+ng took place, but the Royalists had no real hope of success. On one occasion Rupert, Maurice and Gerard went out against the Scots, with ”about twenty horse, in stockings and shoes.” In mere bravado, they charged three troops of the enemy, and Maurice's page, Robert Holmes, of whom we shall hear more hereafter, was wounded.

Rupert also was hurt, for the first time in the war; ”a lieutenant of the enemy shot the Prince in the shoulder, and shook his hand, so {202} that his pistol fell out of his hand; but it shot his enemy's horse.”[64]

Rupert had previously demanded of the governor, Sir Thomas Glemham, whether he would defend the town, but Glemham replied that he must obey the Council, and Rupert therefore interfered no more in the matter. On May 18th a treaty was opened with Fairfax, but broken off on a disagreement about terms. But by June 1st, all the water had been drawn off from the city, and surrender was inevitable. The treaty was renewed, and Rupert prudently came to the Council to demand a particular clause for the safety of himself and his brother. This occasioned a quarrel with Lord Southampton, who retorted that ”the Prince was in good company,” and was understood by Rupert to imply disrespect to his person. He sent Gerard to expostulate with Southampton, who offered no apology, but, saying that his words had been unfaithfully reported, repeated them accurately. Rupert was not satisfied, and sent Gerard again, with a message that he expected to meet Southampton ”with his sword in his hand,” and at as early a date as possible, lest the duel should be prevented. The Earl cheerfully appointed the next morning, and selected pistols as his weapons, acknowledging that he was no match for the Prince with the sword. But fortunately the suspicion of the Council had been roused; the gates were shut, the would-be combatants arrested, and a reconciliation effected. ”And the Prince ever after had a good respect for the Earl.”[65] There was no surer way of winning Rupert's esteem than by accepting a challenge from him.

After this episode, the special clause by which the Princes were to have the benefit of all the other articles, and free leave to quit the country, was inserted in the treaty, and accepted by Fairfax. Indeed the Parliament showed the Princes a greater leniency than might have been expected. They {203} were permitted to take with them all their servants, and to remain in England for six months longer, provided they did not approach within twenty miles of London. But on their quitting Oxford, June 22nd, Fairfax gave them leave on his own authority to go to Oatlands, which was within the proscribed distance of the capital.

The reason for their move thither, was their desire to see the Elector, who was then in London; but it greatly excited the wrath of the Parliament. Notwithstanding the express permission of Fairfax, it was declared that the Princes had broken the articles, and they were ordered to leave the country immediately, on pain of being treated as prisoners. In a letter curiously signed ”Rupert and Maurice,” they answered, meekly enough, that they had acted in all good faith, believing the general's pa.s.s sufficient, and that in coming to Oatlands they had regarded the convenience of the house more than the distance from London, ”of which we had no doubt at all.”[66]

But the Parliament refused to be pacified, and insisted that the Princes must depart within ten days. A long correspondence ensued, relating chiefly to pa.s.ses for various servants, ”whom we would not willingly leave behind.” The list forwarded to the Parliament by Rupert, included a chaplain, some seven or eight gentlemen, footmen, grooms, a tailor, a gunsmith, a farrier, a secretary, ”my brother's secretary's brother,” and ”a laundress and her maid.”[67] On July 4th the brothers reached Dover, whence Rupert took s.h.i.+p for Calais, and Maurice for the Hague. Rupert's ”family,” as his train was called, followed more slowly, and rejoined him on July 23rd, at St. Germains.

”Blessed be G.o.d, for his and our deliverance from the Parliament,”[68]

piously concludes the journal of his secretary.

So ended Rupert's part in the Civil War; a part played, on the whole, creditably, and yet not without serious faults {204} both of temper and judgment. In the earlier days of the war, while possessed of the King's confidence, the Prince had been almost uniformly successful.

Later, when he had to struggle against plots and counter-plots, a vacillating King, false friends, and open enemies, he failed. That Digby had laid a deliberate scheme for his overthrow is evident; yet he had made Digby his enemy by his own faults of temper, and his own indiscretions had placed the necessary weapons in the Secretary's hands. That he was unjustly treated with regard to Bristol there can be no doubt, but he ruined his own cause by his hopeless loss of temper. Nothing could justify the mutinous scene at Newark, and Rupert afterwards confessed himself ashamed of it. That the King's affairs would have prospered better had Digby's influence been less and Rupert's more, seems probable. Faults and limitations, Rupert had, but he understood war as Digby did not. His fidelity was irreproachable, and could never have been seriously doubted. But he knew when the cause was lost, though the sanguine secretary failed to perceive it, and his advice to make peace was reasonable enough. It was unfortunate that the position was such as made that reasonable advice impossible to follow.

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