"Though I was very much pleased for myself with the honour and favour I had by yours from Bristol, yet I must confess, it takes not all unquietness from me. The melancholy you express must be a discontent, for my mind which has so much respect must partake of the trouble of yours. And I should be more restless if I did believe your present sad opinion would be long continued, or that there were just cause for it.

All mistakes, I am confident, will wane, when the King can speak with power! I shall not prejudice that _eclairiss.e.m.e.nt_ by being tedious beforehand. Yet I will say that, though an intention (to that purpose) was not the cause of your coming sooner to the King, you could not have resolved better by the King's good at this time. So in your own understanding {161} you must consent that even from those actions which are the most retired from an appearance (of it) blessings spring. How great this will be when Rupert makes it his care, as formerly our hope, measure by joy (_sic_). This I conclude doth certainly engage Rupert to know how great good he may bring the King, which must also a.s.sure Rupert of the love, value, and trust the King must have of him. This mutual satisfaction will prove happy to themselves, and to all who respect either, as I do both!"[20] The Duke's friendly attempt to console the Prince for past misfortunes, restore his self-confidence, and rea.s.sure him of the King's trust and affection seems to have succeeded. Rupert roused himself, and set out, September 29th, to meet the King at Sherborne in Dorset. Charles was just then returning from his successful expedition to Cornwall, and Waller had been despatched by the Parliament to intercept him. Rupert extracted from his uncle a promise not to fight until he could rejoin him, and hastened back to fortify Bristol. But the perilous condition of two Royalist garrisons, those of Basing House, and Donnington Castle, made delay impossible.

The King sent peremptory orders to Rupert to join him at Salisbury with all the force he could muster. But, before Rupert could obey, Goring, "possessed by a great gaiety,"[21] had drawn Charles into the second unfortunate battle of Newbury. Rupert, making all possible haste, reached Marshfield near Bristol, the day after the battle, October 28th. There he learnt that the King had been defeated at Newbury, and was now at Bath. Maurice, it was feared, was dead or a prisoner. Upon this, Rupert a.s.serted, oddly as it seems, that his brother was quite safe; and so it proved, for he was discovered at Donnington Castle.[22]

Both Princes joined the King at Bath, and thence, by Rupert's advice, marched to Oxford. At Newbury they {162} again encountered Waller and Cromwell, but refused battle, and Rupert succeeded in drawing off his forces without losing one man. The dexterous retreat was compared by one of the young n.o.bles to a country dance.[23] On November 21st Rupert made a vain attempt to recover Abingdon, which was now possessed for the Parliament; and on the 23rd he entered Oxford with the King.

During the march, the Prince had finally received that appointment of Master of the Horse concerning which he had entertained so many doubts.

At the same time he was declared Commander-in-Chief in place of the old Lord Brentford, who had become very deaf, and who "by the long-continued practice of immoderate drinking, dozed in his understanding."[24] The change was exceedingly popular with the soldiers, but exceedingly distasteful to the courtiers and councillors.

Brentford had always been willing to permit discussion, only feigning unusual deafness when he was strongly averse to the proposals made.

But Rupert showed himself "rough and pa.s.sionate,"[25] cut short debate whenever possible, and endeavoured to carry all with a high hand. In addition to the promotion already conferred on him, he had expected the colonelcy of the Life-Guards, and when this was bestowed on Lord Bernard Stewart, the Prince felt himself so unreasonably injured "that he was resolved to lay down his command upon it."[26] He did in fact go the length of demanding a pa.s.s to quit the kingdom, but happily the persuasions of his friends brought him to a wiser state of mind, and he apologised for his folly. Another fruitless attempt on Abingdon closed the military proceedings of the year.

The chief events of the winter months were the Treaty {163} of Uxbridge, and the forming of the Parliament's new model army. The negotiation of January 1645 was due to Scottish influence, and though many of the Royalists were eager to come to terms, the religious question proved, as always, an insuperable obstacle. Moreover, it was quite impossible for Charles to accept the long list of excepted persons "who shall expect no pardon," which was headed by the names of his own nephews. The Princes themselves appear to have been infinitely amused by the circ.u.mstance, for it is recorded by Whitelocke, himself one of the Parliamentary Commissioners: "Prince Rupert and Prince Maurice being present, when their names were read out as excepted persons, they fell into a laughter, at which the King seemed displeased, and bid them be quiet."[27]

In spite of this incident, Rupert forwarded the treaty by all means in his power. He had been one of the first to meet the Commissioners on their arrival. They had gone, on the same day, to visit Lord Lindsey, and ten minutes after their entrance Rupert had put in an appearance, privately summoned by their host, as the Commissioners suspected. He had been present at all the discussions of the treaty, occasionally speaking to remind the King of some forgotten point, but otherwise keeping silence;[28] and when the treaty ultimately collapsed, the Prince "deeply deplored" its failure. He understood only too well the weakness of the King's resources, and the growing strength of the Parliament. The new model army, from which all incompetent officers were excluded, and which was to resemble in strength and discipline, Cromwell's own "lovely Company" was rapidly being developed. And as the power of the Parliament waxed, that of the King waned. Goring, brilliant, careless, valiant, and self-indulgent was losing the West by his negligence, and alienating it by his oppressions. Nor were matters much better elsewhere. Maurice had {164} succeeded his brother in the care of Wales and the Marches, though without his t.i.tle of President.

His advent had been eagerly welcomed by the despondent Byron, but he was incompetent to deal with the difficulties that beset him. From Worcester, where he was established, he sent helpless appeals to Rupert for advice and a.s.sistance. In January he demanded an enlargement of his commission. "I desire no further lat.i.tude than the same from you that you had from the King,"[29] he told his brother discontentedly.

He had promised a commission to the gentlemen of Staffordshire, which he had not the power to grant them, "though I would not let them know as much," he confessed, with youthful vanity.[30] Very shortly a serious misfortune befell him in the betrayal of Shrewsbury to the Parliament.--"A disaffected town with only a garrison of burghers, and a doting old fool of a Governor,"[31] it had been called by Byron, whose language was usually forcible.--And Maurice's difficulties were further increased by the wholesale desertion of his men.

The exhaustion of the country was making it harder than ever to find food and quarters for the soldiers. In Dorsetshire the peasants were already rising, under the name of "Clubmen," to oppose the encroachments of both armies. And the Royalist officers disputed among themselves over the supplies wrung from the impoverished country. From Camden, Colonel Howard simply returned Rupert's order to share his district with another regiment, "resolving to keep nothing by me that shall hang me," he explained; and he went on to a.s.sert that even his rival colonel "blushed to see the unreasonableness" of the Prince's order. "What horrid crime have I committed, or what brand of cowardice lies upon me and my men that we are not thought worthy of a subsistence? Shall the Queen's seventy horse have {165} Westmester hundred, Tewkesbury hundred, and G.o.d knows what other hundreds, and yet share half with me in Rifsgate, who has, at this very present, a hundred horse and five hundred foot, besides a multiplicity of officers? Sir, at my first coming hither, the gentry of these parts looked upon me as a man considerable, and had already raised me sixty horse towards a hundred, and a hundred foot, and were continuing to raise me a greater number. But at the sight of this order of your Highness I resolved to disband them, and to come to Oxford where I'll starve in more security. But finding my Lieutenant-Colonel forced to come to your Highness and to tell his sad condition, I find him so well prepared with sadness of his own, that I cannot but think he will deliver my grievances rarely. As I shall find myself encouraged by your Highness, I will go on and raise more forces. Ever submitting all my proceedings to your Highness's orders--_bar starving, since I am resolved to live._"[32]

Not more cheering was the report of Sir Jacob Astley, then at Cirencester. "After manie Scolisietationes by letters and mesendgeres, sent for better payment of this garrison, and to be provided with men, arms and ammonition for ye good orderinge and defence of this place, I have received no comfort at all. So y^t in littel time our extreameties must thruste the souldieres eyther to disband, or mutiny, or plunder, and then y^e faulte will be laid to my charge. G.o.de sende y^e Kinge mor monne, and me free from blame and imputation."[33]

Rupert had little comfort to give, and no money at all, but he answered the old soldier with the respect and consideration which he always showed him. In earlier days old Astley had been Governor to Rupert and Maurice, and to him they probably owed much that was good in them.

Rupert, in consequence, never treated Astley in the peremptory fashion that he used with others. "For {166} such precise orders as you seem to desire, I must deal freely with you, you are not to expect them," he wrote to his old Governor; "we being not such fit judges as you upon the place... I should be very loath, by misjudging here, to direct that which you should find inconvenient there."[34]

Such phrases contrast strongly with the Prince's usual high-handed procedure, of which we find the King himself complaining at this very time. "Indeed it surprised me a little this morning," he wrote to his nephew, "when Adjutant Skrimshaw told me that you had given him a commission to be Governor of Lichfield without ever advising with me, or even giving me notice of it;--for he told me as news, and not by your command. I know this proceeds merely out of a hasty forgetfulness and want of a little thinking, for if you had called to mind the late dispute between the Lord Loughborough and Bagot, that is dead, you would have advised more than you have done, both of the person, and the manner of doing it; and then, it may be, you would have thought George Lisle fitter for it than him you have chosen. Upon my word I have taken notice of this to none but this bearer, with whom I have spoken reasonable freely, by which you may perceive that this is freedom and nothing else, that makes me write thus, expecting the same from you to your loving Oncle."[35] Whether Rupert did or did not resent the reproof does not appear, but the King proved right, and Skrimshaw quarrelled with Loughborough no less than Bagot had done.

Perilous as was the condition of the Royalists on all sides, the condition of Wales seemed the most desperate, and thither Rupert hastened in the March of 1645. He took his way first to Ludlow, where he hoped to raise new forces, and a few days later he joined Maurice at Ellesmere. Thence he wrote despondently to Legge, dwelling on the great numbers of the enemy, and exhorting him to see that {167} the Oxford army held Monmouthshire in check. "I am going about a n.o.bler business," he added, "therefore pray G.o.d for me; and remember me to all my friends."[36] But by the 14th he had got an army together, and his spirits were marvellously revived. "We are few, but shrewd fellows as ever you saw. Nothing troubles us but that Prince Charles is in worse (condition), and pray G.o.d he were here. I expect nothing but ill from the West; let them hear that Rupert says so." (This was for Goring's benefit.) "As for Charles Lucas' business, a.s.sure the King that nothing was meant but that it should be conceded by Lord Hopton; but his lieutenant, Slingsby, is a rogue. I have enough against him to prove him so, when time shall be. This enclosed will show you a fine business concerning my cousin the Bishop of York. Pray acquaint His Majesty with it, it concerns him. Martin's man carried a letter to you from Stowe, which you did receive, and one for Sir Edward Herbert.

Pray remember me to him, and to all my friends, and inquire about the letter; you'll find knavery in it. Prince Charles wrote to me about Mark Trevor; I denied it (_i.e._ refused) as well as I could: he goes to him. Cheshire will not prosper. (Maurice was there.) Your company is here, so is your friend Rupert."[37]

The allusion to the Archbishop of York shows that Rupert had already detected the intrigues of that warlike and treacherous prelate. He had fortified and defended his castle of Conway, but quarrelled incessantly with all the Royalist officers in the district, and eventually he admitted the enemy to his castle. At the date of the above letter he was following the example of Digby, and trying to sow dissension between Ormonde and Rupert. Cheshire and Wales, he declared, lay "all neglected and in confusion", owing to the private quarrels of Rupert's "favourite", Legge, and the Byrons, whom he represented as {168} "thrown out of their governments, abandoned by the King, and left to die in prison."[38] The Byrons themselves do not appear to have made any such complaints; and a sentence in one of Lord Byron's letters to the Prince seems to deprecate the reports spread by the Archbishop. "I heard," he says, "that Your Highness was informed that, in your absence, I showed most disrespect to those you most honour. This is very far from the truth, as it ever shall be from the practice of your most humble and most obliged servant, Byron."[39]

And in spite of the Archbishop's hostility Rupert's efforts in the Marches were attended by success. On the 19th of April, having been rejoined by Maurice, he forced Brereton to raise his siege of Beeston Castle, which had endured for seventeen weeks. A few days later he was engaged in suppressing a revolt in Herefordshire, where the peasants were rising like the clubmen of Dorset. Most of them fled before the Prince, but two hundred stood their ground, of these Rupert took the leaders, and persuaded the rest to lay down their arms; he was anxious, if possible, to conciliate the people rather than to suppress them by force.[40] No sooner was this task accomplished than Astley arrived with the news that a Parliamentary force, under Ma.s.sey, was at Ledbury.

Without an instant's delay Rupert set out, marched all night, and attacked and routed Ma.s.sey in the morning, April 22nd. From Ledbury he went to Hereford, where he remained some days before returning to Oxford.

It was at this time that Rupert performed the stern act of retaliation, which so roused the wrath of the Parliament. The King's importation of Irish soldiers had been regarded by the Puritans as a gross aggravation of all his other {169} crimes. They chose to regard all the Irish as responsible for the ma.s.sacre of the Protestants which had occurred in Ireland in 1641, and in accordance with this view they gave them no quarter. In March 1645 Ess.e.x happened to take thirteen Irish troopers, whom he hanged without mercy; and Rupert immediately retaliated by the execution of thirteen Roundhead prisoners. Ess.e.x thereupon wrote an indignant letter, reproaching the Prince for his barbarous and inhuman conduct, to which Rupert responded in a letter "full of haughtiness", that since Ess.e.x had "barbarously murdered" his men, "in cold blood, after quarter given", he would have been unworthy of his command had he not let the Puritans know that their own soldiers "must pay the price of such acts of inhumanity."[41] The Parliament then took upon itself to remonstrate at great length, but received only a concise and decided reply from the Prince's secretary:

"I am, by command, to return you this answer. You gave the first example in hanging such prisoners as were taken, and thereupon the same number of yours suffered in like manner. If you continue this course you cannot, in reason, but expect the like return. But, if your intention be to give quarter, and to exchange prisoners upon equal terms, it will not be denied here."[42] The Prince's resolute att.i.tude had the desired effect, and the Puritans were forced to recognise Irishmen as human beings.

In contrast with this incident, we find a frantic appeal to the Prince for mercy, dated April 28. A young Royalist officer--Windebank--had most unjustifiably surrendered Blechingdon House, of which he was Governor, and by a court-martial held at Oxford he was doomed to die.

Poor Windebank was no coward, but he had acted in a moment of panic, engendered by the terror of his young wife, and it was on his behalf that Sir Henry Bard now pleaded with {170} Rupert. "The letter enclosed was sent to me from Oxford, to be conveyed with all speed possible. Pray G.o.d it comes time enough! It concerns a most unfortunate man, Colonel Windebank. Sir, pity him and reprieve him!

It was G.o.d's judgment on him, and no cowardice of his own. At the battle of Alresford he gave a large testimony of his courage, and if with modesty I may bring in the witness, I saw it, and there began our acquaintance. Oh, happy man had he ended then! Sir, let him but live to repair his honour, of which I know he is more sensible than are the d.a.m.ned of the pains of h.e.l.l."[43] Rupert had saved Fielding, and he would in all probability have saved Windebank had it been possible.

But, alas, Bard's letter was intercepted by the Parliament and never reached its destination! And Windebank died on May 3rd, the day before Rupert reached Oxford.

The King was about to begin his last campaign, and he therefore summoned both his nephews to his side. The two Princes reached Oxford on May 4th, after an extraordinarily rapid march, and three days later, the King set out for Woodstock, leaving Will Legge behind him as Governor of Oxford. Danger was on every side. The Scots dominated the North; the West was falling rapidly away, and Cromwell's new army threatened that of the King. At starting, Charles had but 1,100 men, but before a month was past, Rupert had doubled their number. Digby and the Court party would fain have joined with Goring in the west, but Rupert, "spurred on by the northern horse, who violently pursued their desires of being at home,"[44] was eager for the North. For the moment his star was in the ascendant, and, to Digby's disgust, the King yielded. "All is governed by Prince Rupert who grows a great Courtier," reported Arthur Trevor. "But whether his power be not supported by the present occasion is a question to {171} ask a conjuror. Certainly the Lord Digby loves him not."[45] At Evesham, which was reached on the 9th, Rupert gave new offence to the Court by making Robin Legge, Will's brother, Governor of that town, in defiance of the wishes of the Council. Moving slowly northwards through the Midlands, he took Hawkesly House near Bromsgrove; on the following day he was at Wolverhampton. On the 27th both he and the King were the guests of the Hastings, at Ashby de la Zouch, and on the 29th Rupert "laye in the workes before Leycester."[46] By his skill and energy, this town was taken in two days, and the triumph not only revived the drooping spirits of the Cavaliers, but won them material advantages in the way of arms and ammunition. It was believed that Derby would have surrendered on a summons, but Rupert would not take the chance. Should it refuse his summons, he maintained, "out of punctilio of honour" he would be forced to lay siege to it, which he had not means to do.[47]

Willingly would he have pressed on northwards, but Fairfax was threatening Oxford, and the civilians, always anxious to keep the army in the south, clamoured loudly of the danger of the Duke of York, the Council, the Stores, and all the fair ladies of the Court. The said ladies also "earnestly by letter, solicited Prince Rupert to their rescue."[48] Reluctantly he faced southwards. But the danger of Oxford was less imminent than had been represented; Fairfax retired from before it. Then the contest of Rupert against Digby, the soldier against the civilian was renewed. "There was a plot to send the King to Oxford, but it is undone," the Prince wrote to his "dear Will."

"The chief of the counsel was the fear that some men had that the soldiers would take from them the influence they now possess with the King."[49]

{172}

It was in accordance with the perversity of Charles's fate that just when the Parliamentary army had thrown off civilian shackles, he was ceasing to be ruled by the military counsels of his nephew. Rupert again urged a march to the North. Digby and the Councillors of Oxford, ever eager to keep the army in the South, recommended an attack on the Eastern counties. The King remained at Daventry hesitating between the two counsels, and in the meantime Fairfax and Cromwell were advancing towards him. Rupert's unaccountable contempt for the New Model Army prevented him from taking the proper precautions, and he remained absolutely ignorant of Fairfax's movements, until he was quartered eight miles from Daventry. Then the King decided to move towards Warwick, and that night he slept at Lubenham, Rupert at Harborough. On the same evening Ireton surprised and captured a party of Rupert's men, as they were playing at quoits in Naseby. A few who escaped, fled to warn the King, and the King hastened to Rupert. With unwonted prudence, Rupert advised retreat; reinforcements might be found at Leicester and Newark, and there was yet a hope that Goring might march to their aid. He did not know, as Fairfax knew through an intercepted despatch, that Goring was unable to leave the West. But Digby and Ashburnham were for fighting, and once again the civilian triumphed.

On June 14th took place the fatal battle of Naseby.

Very early the royal army was drawn up upon a long hill which runs two miles south of Harborough. Here Astley intended the battle to be fought, resolving to keep on the defensive. But the enemy did not appear, and Rupert, growing impatient, sent out his scout master to look for them, about eight o'clock in the morning. The man returned, after a perfunctory search, saying that Fairfax was not to be seen.

Then Rupert, unable to bear inaction any longer, rode out to look for him in person, with a small party of horse. At Naseby he found the whole army of the Parliament. {173} It was just then engaged in shifting its position, and Rupert jumped to the conclusion that it was in full retreat. Lured on by this idea, he established himself on a piece of rising ground to the right, and summoned the rest of the army from its well-chosen position to join him there. This was perhaps the chief cause of the defeat that followed. Rupert and Maurice charged together on the right, and swept the field before them, till they reached the enemy's cannon and baggage waggons. Here Rupert was mistaken for Fairfax, for both were wearing red cloaks, and some of the Puritan reserve rode up, asking, "How goes the day?" The Prince responded by an offer of quarter, which was met by a volley of musket shot. But Rupert could not stay to complete his conquest. His part of the battle had been won, but behind him Cromwell had scattered the Royalist left, and was trampling the infantry of the centre in "a dismal carnage."[50] The King was turned from the battle too soon, his whole army was disheartened and overwhelmed, and Rupert returned too late, to find Cromwell in possession of the field. The Royal army was destroyed, and the war almost at an end. That night the King retreated to Ashby, and the next day, Sunday, he reached Lichfield, whence he hastened on to Raglan Castle. Rupert went on westward to the Prince of Wales at Barnstaple.

His departure from the King was due to a new quarrel with Digby, who attributed the disaster to the fault of the Prince. "Let me know what is said among you, concerning our last defeat," Rupert wrote to Legge, at Oxford; "doubtless the fault of it will be put upon me... Since this business I find Digby hath omitted nothing which might prejudice me, and this day hath drawn a letter from the King to Prince Charles, in which he crosses all things that befell here in my behalf. I have showed this to the King, and in earnest; and if thereupon he should go on {174} and send it, I shall be forced to quit Generalship and march towards Prince Charles, where I have received more kindness than here."[51] At the same time, Legge received a long account of the battle from Digby himself, in which the Secretary, very cleverly, charged all the misfortune of the day to the Prince, while pretending to acquit him. "I am sure that Prince Rupert hath so little kindness for me, as I daily find he hath, it imports both to me and mine to be much the more cautious not to speak anything that may be wrested to his prejudice. I can but lament my misfortune that Prince Rupert is neither gainable nor tenable by me, though I have endured it with all the industry, and justness unto him in the world, and I lament your absence from him. Yet, at least, if Prince Rupert cannot be better inclined to me, that you might prevail with him so far that his heats, and misapprehensions of things may not wound his own honour, and prejudice the King's service. I am very unhappy that I cannot speak with you, since the discourse that my heart is full of is too long for a letter, and not of a nature fit for it. But I conjure you, if you preserve that justice and kindness for me which I will not doubt, if you hear anything from Prince Rupert concerning me, suspend your judgment. As for the particular aspersion upon him, which you mention, of _fighting against advice, he is very much wronged in it_, ... and for particular time, place and circ.u.mstance of our fighting that day, His Highness cannot be said to have gone against my Lord Astley, or any other advice; _for I am confident no man was asked upon the occasion_,--I am sure no council was called. I shall only say this freely to you, that I think a princ.i.p.al occasion of our misfortune was the want of you with us.... But really, dear Will, I do not write this with reflection, for indeed we were all carried on at that time with such a spirit and confidence of victory as though he that should have said {175} "consider" would have been your foe. Well, let us look forward! Give your Prince good advice, as to caution, and value of counsel, and G.o.d will yet make him an instrument of much happiness to the King, and Kingdom, and that being, I will adore him as much as you love him."[52] But "Honest Will" was quite shrewd enough to read between the lines of this elaborate epistle, and he answered with a spirit and candour worthy of his character. "I am extremely afflicted to understand from you that Prince Rupert and yourself should be upon so unkindly terms, and I protest, I have cordially endeavoured, with all my interest in His Highness, to incline him to a friendship with your Lordship, conceiving it a matter of advantage to my Master's service, to have a good intelligence between persons so eminently employed in his affairs, and likewise the great obligation and inclination I had to either of you. But truly, my Lord, I often found this a hard matter to hold between you; and your last letter gives me cause to think that your Lordship _is not altogether free from what he accused you of_, as the reason of his jealousies. Which was that you both say and do things to his prejudice, _contrary to your professions, and not in an open and direct line, but obscurely and obliquely_; and this, under your Lordship's pardon, I find your letter very full of.

For where your Lordship would excuse him of the particular and general aspersions, yet you come with such objections against the conduct of that business, as would, to men ignorant of the Prince, make him incapable of common-sense in his profession. For my part, my Lord, I am so well acquainted with the Prince's ways, that I am confident all his General officers and commanders knew beforehand how, and in what manner, he intended to fight; and when, as you say, all mankind were of opinion to fight, it was his part to put it into execution. Were any man in the army dissatisfied in his directions, {176} or in the order, he ought to have informed the General of it, and to have received further satisfaction. And for the not calling of a Council at that instant, truly, the Prince having before laid his business, were there need of it, the blame must be as much yours as any man's." And, after a great deal more to the same purpose, Legge concludes with the stout declaration, "and a.s.sure yourself you are not free from great blame towards Prince Rupert. And no man will give you this free language at a cheaper rate than myself, though many discourse of it."[53]

[1] Clarendon, Bk. VII. p. 96, _note_.

[2] King to Rupert, 26 May, 1644. Rupert Correspondence. Add. MSS.

18981

[3] Warburton, III. p. 16.

[4] Add. MSS. 18981. Digby to Rupert, Aug. 15, 1644.

[5] Carte's Letters, I. 63. 13 Sept. 1644.

[6] Carte's Ormonde, IV. 190. 13 Aug. 1644.

[7] Ibid.

[8] Carte's Ormonde. VI. 206. 13 Oct. 1644.

[9] Ibid. Vol. VI. 203. 3 Oct. 1644.

[10] Add. MSS. 18981. King to Rupert, Aug. 30, 1644.

[11] Ibid. Sept. 23, 1644. Digby to Rupert.

[12] Rupert to Legge. Oct. 16, 1644. Warburton, III. p. 27.

[13] Warburton, II. 172, and III. 16.

[14] Warburton, III. p. 52.

[15] Warburton, III. p. 73. Rupert to Legge, Mar. 31, 1645.

[16] Clarendon, Bk. IX. p. 30.

[17] Carte's Letters, I. 86-87, 25 May, 1645.

[18] Warburton, III. p. 21.

[19] Ibid. p. 22.

[20] Rupert Transcripts. Richmond to Rupert, Sept. 14, 1644.