"My Lord!

"Sence you have happiely broght this businesse almost to and end, I mene to followe your Lordshippe's consel in alle. At your coming, alle shalle be redie for our journay to Viena. The moyns (moyens, _i.e._ money) I have when alle debts are paiet woul not bee moer than a 1,000 ducats. Thefore I beseech your Lordshippe to hasten our journe from Viena as much as possible. If you think fit, I mene to take my waie to Inspruck and throgh France, whiche is sertainely the best and saifest wai of alle. I woul desire a sudain answer of your Lordshippe that I mai send for bils of exchange to bee delivered at Geneva and Paris.

Thys is alle I have at this time to troble Yor Lordshippe withalle, and so I rest,

"Your most affectioned to doe you service, "RUPERT."[13]

It may here be noticed that Rupert, throughout his whole life, was singularly scrupulous about the payment of his debts.

When all negotiations were completed, the Emperor organised "an extraordinary hunting" in Lower Austria, at which Rupert was directed to appear, as if by chance. He had the good luck to kill the boar with his spear, an exploit very highly accounted in the Empire. The Emperor, {55} thereupon, extended his hand to the successful hunter; Rupert kissed it, and, that being the final sign of release, was thenceforth free. For a week he was detained as a guest at Vienna, while every effort was made to gain his adherence to the Emperor. He seems to have been as popular at Vienna as at Linz. "There were," says the Lansdowne MS., "few persons of quality by whom he was not visited and treated... The ladyes also vied in their civilities, and laboured to detain him in Germany by their charms." But Rupert refused to be beguiled, charmed they never so wisely. As for the Emperor, he lavished so much kindness on his quondam prisoner, "that the modesty of the Prince could not endure it without some confusion. Yet his deportment was composed, and his answers to the civilities of the Emperor were so full of judgment and grat.i.tude that they esteemed him no less for his prudence than for his bravery."[14]

At last he was suffered to depart. Fain would the Emperor have sent him to the Archduke at Brunswick, believing that the influence of the Angel might yet win him. But Rupert preferred to visit Prague, his own birthplace, and the scene of his father's brief kingship. With a kindly caution not to venture into the power of the Duke of Bavaria, the Emperor bade him farewell. From Prague Rupert went to Saxony, where he astonished the reigning Elector not a little by his refusal to drink. A banquet had been arranged in his honour, but the Prince, "always temperate", excused himself from drinking with the rest.

"'What shall we do with him then,' says the Elector, 'if he cannot drink?'--and so invited him to the entertainment of a hunting."[15]

After this Rupert travelled night and day, in his eagerness to be the first to bring news of his release to his family. He just managed to antic.i.p.ate Roe's letter, which arrived at the Hague on the same night with himself. Boswell, then English Amba.s.sador in Holland, wrote {56} an account of the event to Roe. "Prince Rupert arrived here in perfect health, but lean and weary, having come that day from Swoll, and from Hamburg since the Friday noon. Myself, at eight o'clock in the evening, coming out of the court gate, had the good luck to receive him first of any, out of his waggon; no other creature in the court expecting his coming so soon. Whereby himself carried the news of his being come to the Queen, newly set at supper. You may imagine what joy there was!"[16] And to Roe wrote the Queen also: "The same night, being the 20th of this month (December), that Rupert came hither I received your letter, where you tell me of his going from Vienna. He is very well satisfied with the Emperor's usage of him. I find him not altered, only leaner, and grown. All the people, from the highest to the lowest, made great show of joy at his return. For me, you may easily guess it, and also how much I esteem myself obliged to you."

Yet, even after a three years' separation, Elizabeth had no notion of keeping her son beside her. "What to do with him I know not!" she lamented. "He cannot in honour, yet go to the war; here he will live but idly, in England no better. For I know the Queen will use all possible means to gain him to the prejudice of the Prince Elector, and of his religion. For though he has stood firm against what has been practised in his imprisonment, amongst his enemies, yet I fear, by my own humour, that fair means from those that are esteemed true may have more power than threatenings or flattery from an enemy."[17] Doubtless the Queen's anxiety for her son's employment was justified; there was no money to maintain him; and, moreover, the Hague was no desirable residence for an idle and active-minded young Prince. There seems to have been some idea of sending him to Ireland, where the natives had risen against the English Government. The King approved of the {57} suggestion: "But," wrote the Elector, "the Parliament will employ none there but those they may be sure of. I shall speak with some of them about it, either for Rupert, or for brother Maurice. This last might, I think, with honour, have a regiment under Leslie, but to be under any other odd or senseless officer, as some are proposed, I shall not advise it."[18] Apparently the idea failed to commend itself to the English Parliament, which perhaps suspected that the younger brothers would be found less time-serving than was the Elector.

In accordance with his mother's wishes, and doubtless with his own, Rupert went over to England, early in February 1642, with the avowed object of thanking his uncle for his release. He found King Charles at Dover, whither he had accompanied his wife and eldest daughter on their way to Holland. Affairs in England were approaching a crisis, and the Queen, under the pretext of taking the Princess Mary to her husband, was about to raise money and men for the King, on the Continent. The visit of the warlike Rupert at so critical a juncture roused hostile comment, and, since war was not yet considered inevitable, the King desired his nephew to return home with the Queen. Therefore, after a visit of three days, he embarked with the Queen and Princess on board the Lyon, and sailed straight for Holland. The arrivals were met, on their landing, by Elizabeth, two of her daughters, the Prince of Orange and his son; all of whom proceeded in one coach to the Court of Orange.

Rupert remained at the Hague until August, when war broke out in England, and gave him the employment desired for him by his mother.

At this point, August 1642, closes what we may consider as the first period of Rupert's life. Probably these early years were his best and happiest. Marked though they were by poverty and misfortune, they were yet full of {58} interests and adventure, unmarred by the struggles, jealousies, disappointments, and family dissensions which were to come.

Rupert had no lack of friends; he had won the hearts of his very enemies. Not the least among a brilliant group of brothers and sisters, he was happy in their companionship and sympathy, the bond of which was so soon to be severed; happy also in the kindness and affection of the Prince of Orange and of the King and Queen of England.

He had shown himself gifted with rare abilities, capable of valiant action, and of loyal and patient endurance;--a generous, high-souled boy, fired by chivalric fancies, free from all self-seeking, earnest, faithful, strong-willed, but also, alas, opinionated, and impatient of contradiction.

[1] Collins Sidney Papers, Vol. II. pp. 584-5, 28 Jan. 1639.

[2] Com. State Papers. Chas. I. Vol. 539. Eliz. to Roe, Jan. 7/17, 1640.

[3] Bromley Letters, p. 122.

[4] Ibid. p. 124.

[5] Dom. State Papers. Maurice to Charles I, Oct. 30, 1640. Chas. I.

Vol. 470. fol. 21.

[6] Dom. State Papers, Chas. I. Vol. 477. Feb. 22, 1641.

[7] Ibid. Chas. I. Vol. 539. Jan. 7-17, 1641.

[8] Ibid. Chas. I. 484. f. 51. Oct. 10, 1641.

[9] Fairfax Correspondence. Ed. Johnson. 1848. Vol. I. p. 322.

[10] Benett MSS. Warburton. I. pp. 102, 458.

[11] Dom. State Papers. Chas. I. Vol. 483. fol. 39.

[12] Dom. State Papers. Sept. 19-29. 1641. Chas. I. 484. f. 36.

[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 ship 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 ship, 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 ship 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 ships 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 generalship 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 establishing 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.