Part 26 (2/2)

At Nevis they found a large number of English vessels, which, like a flock of frightened animals, ”began to s.h.i.+ft for themselves,” some endeavouring to escape, and others running ash.o.r.e.[44] A brief engagement took place, in which Rupert's secretary was shot down at his side, {261} but no prizes could be taken, because the enemy's vessels were so fast aground that they could not be brought off.

After a brief visit to La Bastare, the Princes went to the Virgin Islands, intending to unload and careen the Admiral, and on the way thither, they added to their numbers by purchasing from a Dutch man-of-war a prize she had taken. They had hoped to find ca.s.sava roots in the islands, but these proved scarce, and consequently they suffered greatly from want of food. Rupert was even forced to reduce his men's rations, but, seeing that their Princes shared equally with them in all hards.h.i.+ps, the sailors bore the privation with cheerful courage. The scarcity of food caused them to leave the Virgins as soon as the leaky s.h.i.+ps were repatched, and, having burnt three small prizes as unseaworthy, they sailed southwards.

Now came the crowning misfortune of the unhappy Prince who had been so long ”kept waking with new troubles.”[45] Not far from Anguilla the fleet was caught in a most terrible hurricane. So strong was the wind that the men could not stand at their work; so thick the weather that no one could see more than a few yards before him. For two days the s.h.i.+ps ran before the wind, the Admiral escaping wreckage on the rocks of Angadas by a miracle. On the third day the hurricane abated, and the Admiral found herself alone at the uninhabited island of St. Ann, in the Virgins; the ”Honest Seaman” had been cast ash.o.r.e at Porto Rico, and the Vice-Admiral had totally disappeared. ”In this fatal wreck,”

says Pyne, ”besides a great many brave gentlemen and others, the sea, to glut itself, swallowed Prince Maurice, whose fame the mouth of detraction cannot blast; his very enemies bewailing his loss. Many had more power, few more merit. He was s.n.a.t.c.hed from us in obscurity, lest beholding his loss would have prevented others from endeavouring their own safety; {262} so much he lived beloved and died bewailed.”[46]

Rupert's grief was beyond words. He had lost the only member of his family to whom he was bound by close ties of affection, the most faithful and devoted of his followers, his favourite companion, his best-loved friend. From the very first he accepted the situation as hopeless, and he bore his sorrow in grim silence, not suffering it to crush him as his grief for the loss of the ”Constant Reformation” had done. There was no Maurice now to fall back upon, and the needs of the s.h.i.+p could not be neglected. Alas, one s.h.i.+p, the ”Swallow,” was all that remained of the gallant little fleet, and Rupert, finding himself thus alone, resolved to return to France. First he paid a farewell visit to Guadeloupe, where he was kindly received, and supplied with wine. There also he took an English prize, naively likened by the writer of his log to ”Manna from Heaven.”[47] But well might the crew rejoice at the capture, seeing that their rations were now reduced to three ounces per diem. Touching at the Azores, they were surprised to be received with bullets, and not suffered to approach within speaking distance of the land. Rupert therefore sailed straight for Brittany, stopping at Cape Finisterre for fresh provisions. His health was completely broken down, and the food on board both scarce and nasty, and we read: ”His Highness had not been very well since he came from the West Indies, and fresh provisions being a rarity, a present of two hens and a few eggs was very acceptable.”[48]

But the Prince was nearing the end of his hards.h.i.+ps, if not of his troubles. Early one morning in the March of 1653, he came into the Loire and anch.o.r.ed at St. Lazar. The next day, in attempting to get higher up the river, he ran his s.h.i.+p aground. The crew were anxious to leave her to her fate, but Rupert had not come through so many {263} difficulties only to succ.u.mb to the last, and by his ”industry and care” he brought her safely off. Having secured his prizes, he sent the ”Swallow” back to the mouth of the river to refit. ”Here, however, like a grateful servant, having brought her princely master through so many dangers, she consumed herself, scorning, after being quitted by him, that any inferior person should command her.”[49]

Thus closed the most singular episode in a much chequered career. The morality of Rupert's proceedings during his three years' wanderings on the high seas has been much debated. In theory he was a loyal Admiral holding his own against a rebel fleet, but in fact, it must be owned, he was little more than a pirate, or at best, a privateer. He was never able to meet the fleet of the Parliament in battle, and could only wage war by crippling the trade of the hostile party. Moreover, though his desire to injure the trade of the enemy was both earnest and sincere, he was still more anxious to gain merchandise, by the sale of which he could support his dest.i.tute sovereign and his fleet. Yet he kept within the limits he had set himself, and made prizes only of s.h.i.+ps belonging to adherents of the Commonwealth or to its Spanish allies. The capture of a Genoese vessel has been admitted, but that was in the nature of a reprisal, and it has been seen how a Danish and a Royalist s.h.i.+p taken by mistake were set free. That the Prince endured hards.h.i.+p, difficulties and dangers out of a loyal devotion to his cousin, is shown by the readiness with which he renounced his private share of the spoil in Charles's favour, when he sent home the cargo of 1652. The devotion evidently felt for him by his crew speaks well for his character as a commander, and all his recorded dealings with the natives of Africa and the various islands, show a humane and enlightened spirit in which there is nothing of the buccanneer. Indeed the various logs which bear record of his voyages {264} are marked by a tone of great decorum. In them the chaplain figures frequently, and on one occasion it is noted, ”The second day being Sunday, we rode still, and did the duties of the day in the best manner that we could; the same at evening.”[50] And even granting that the decorous tone of the logs is forced and exaggerated of set purpose, the fact remains that no specific charge of cruelty was ever brought against the Prince by his enemies or any one else. This, when it is remembered how lawless were the high seas in those days, is no slight praise. But, whatever may be thought of the ethics of the case, it will be universally acknowledged that to keep the seas as Rupert kept them for three years, with no previous experience in nautical affairs, with never more than seven, and usually only three s.h.i.+ps at his command, with those s.h.i.+ps hopelessly leaky and rotten, and continually beset by every possible form of danger and disaster, was a feat deserving of wonder and admiration.

[1] Clarendon State Papers. Hyde to Rupert, Oct. 19, 1650.

[2] Cary's Memorials, Vol. II. p. 164.

[3] Warburton, III. p. 306, _note_.

[4] Ibid. p. 303.

[5] Warburton, III. pp. 304-305. Whitelocke, 458. Thurloe's State Papers, I. 145-146.

[6] Thurloe, I. 141. Dom. State Papers. Commonweath, IX. fol. 38.

[7] Warburton. III. pp. 306, 310.

[8] Ibid pp. 310-312. Add. MSS. 18982 f. 210.

[9] Warburton, III. p. 313.

[10] Hist. MSS. Com. Rept 14. Portland MSS. Vol. I. p. 548. 26 Dec. 1650.

[11] Warburton, III. p. 318.

[12] Ibid. 320.

[13] Warburton, III. 320.

[14] Ibid. p. 321.

[15] Letters, II. p. 3. 14 May, 1651.

[16] Nicholas Papers, I. 249. May 1651.

[17] Warburton, III. p. 325.

[18] Warburton, III. p. 327.

[19] Ibid. p. 329.

[20] Warburton, III. p. 334.

[21] Ibid. pp. 533-535. Pitts to --. No date.

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