CHAPTER XIV

THE FLEET IN THE TAGUS. AT TOULON. THE VOYAGE TO
THE AZORES. THE WRECK OF THE "CONSTANT REFORMATION."
ON THE AFRICAN COAST. LOSS OF MAURICE
IN THE "DEFIANCE." THE RETURN TO FRANCE

On quitting Ireland in November 1649, the Royalist fleet sailed straight for the Spanish coast. Hyde was then at Madrid, as the Ambassador of Charles II, and he pressed the Spaniards to grant the Prince free ports. This they would not do, but they allowed him to clean and victual his vessels upon their shores, until the arrival of the Parliament fleet changed their attitude.[[1]] The Parliament had despatched their Admiral Blake in pursuit of the Royalists, and Blake's ships were better manned, better fitted up, and more numerous than those of Rupert. In fear of Blake, the Spaniards ordered Rupert to leave their coasts, and he took refuge in the Tagus. There he found a generous reception. The King of Portugal, "a young man of great hope and courage," sent an embassy to invite the two Princes to Lisbon, and they were conducted, with much state, to Court. Further, the King promised them all the protection in his power, gave them supplies and provisions, the free use of his ports, and purchased their prizes. "The King of Portugal gives Rupert all kind of assistance, and is extreme kind and civil to him and Maurice. I pray you tell your Lord this," wrote the Queen of Bohemia to her "dear cousin," the Duchess of Richmond.[[2]] For a brief period the adventurous Princes enjoyed a prosperous tranquillity, but it was not to last. Good though were the intentions of the young King, his Ministers feared the English Parliament as much as did the Spaniards. Consequently, when Blake arrived at the mouth of the Tagus and demanded the surrender of the Princes and their fleet, dissension arose in the Court of Lisbon. The young King was so indignant that he would fain have gone on board Rupert's vessel to fight with Blake in person. This rash design was prevented by the Queen Mother, and the King, yielding to his Ministers, demanded three days' start for the Princes if they should put to sea. This condition Blake would not grant, and the King therefore refused to close his ports to the Royalists. The Count de Miro, who headed the faction hostile to the Princes, then tried to embarrass Rupert by all means in his power. He ordered the Portuguese merchants to pay for the prizes purchased in goods and not in money, he tried to prevent Maurice from gaining an audience with the King, and he actually succeeded in preventing him from making an attack on Blake. "Hearing that Prince Maurice intends to sail from our ports, with letters of marque against Parliament ships, I beg it may not be done," was the concise and explicit note received by Rupert.[[3]]

The Prince meanwhile gained allies against De Miro by an appeal to the priests, who responded readily, preaching everywhere "how shameful a thing it was for a Christian King to treat with rebels." He also won the hearts of the populace, by hunting daily amongst them with all confidence, and by his "liberality and complaisance to all sorts of people." His exceeding popularity with priests and people intimidated the hostile court faction, so that De Miro dared no longer urge compliance with the demands of Blake.[[4]]

For some time Rupert remained in the Tagus, with Blake awaiting him outside. Occasionally, as in Holland, the sailors met on shore, and with more fatal results. An ambush laid by Blake for the capture of Rupert while hunting, resulted in the defeat of the Parliamentarians, with the loss of nine of their men. In revenge, Rupert attempted to blow up one of Blake's ships, sending one of his sailors, disguised as a Portuguese, with an infernal machine to the Vice-Admiral. But the man unwarily exclaimed in English, and so was discovered and his design prevented. These actions were very differently represented by Royalists and Parliamentarians, and both parties "complained to the King of Portugal."[[5]] Blake stigmatised Rupert as "that pyrate"; and Rupert declared the Parliamentarians to be only "tumultuous, factious, seditious soldiers and other disorderly and refractory persons," and Blake a "sea-robber."[[6]]

After this the King forbade any more Parliament ships to enter his harbour, and Blake in revenge attacked the Portuguese fleet returning from Madeira. The King, thus justly incensed, ordered his own fleet to sail with Rupert, against Blake. But the Portuguese Admiral was in the pay of De Miro, and "was so careful of his person" as to give Rupert no assistance. On Rupert's complaint he was deprived of his command, but his successor proved no more efficient.[[7]] The attack, therefore failed, but Rupert was able to write cheerfully to Charles II that his "entertainment" was still "all civility," and that every facility had been afforded for the disposal of the goods taken in his prizes, which realised about £40,000. A part of this sum he sent to Charles, with the rest he fitted up his prizes as men of war, and victualled his ships for four months.[[8]]

He was now ready to force his passage through Blake's fleet, or "perish in the attempt." But meanwhile Blake had captured the Portuguese fleet coming from Brazil, and the poor King, not knowing whom to trust, came in person to Rupert to beg him to rescue it. The Prince willingly agreed, but Blake was not anxious to fight just then, and the mists and contrary winds prevented the Royalists from coming up with him. The King thanked Rupert for his efforts, but the continued misfortunes which the presence of the Royalists was bringing on Portugal forced them to leave Lisbon. From that time, September 1650, the Princes were, in truth, little more than pirates. The small number of their ships prevented them from ever engaging the fleet of the Parliament, and they could only carry on a depredatory warfare, injuring English trade, and at the same time supporting the exiled court, by the constant capture of merchantmen. Any English vessel that refused to own Rupert as Lord High Admiral of England was a fair prize, and from the time that Spain allied herself with the English Commonwealth, Spanish vessels also were fair game in the Princes' eyes. And thus, says one of the Royalist captains, "our misfortunes being no novelty to us, we plough the sea for a subsistence, and being destitute of a port, we take the Mediterranean sea for our harbour; poverty and despair being our companions, and revenge our guide."[[9]]

On leaving Lisbon, Rupert returned at first to the coast of Spain. Off Estepona he crippled, but could not take, an English vessel. At Malaga he found some more English ships, but was peremptorily forbidden to attack them by the Spanish Governor. To this order he only replied that he would not shoot, but that, since one of the vessels in question was commanded by a regicide, he could not possibly forego this opportunity of revenge. In accordance with this declaration, he sent a fire-ship by night, which successfully burnt the ship of the regicide, Captain Morley. The anger of the Spaniards forced him to put to sea at once, and he next came to Montril, where he attacked and destroyed three English ships, in spite of the efforts made from the Spanish forts to defend them.[[10]] Between Cape de Gatte and Cape Palos, he took several prizes, and from there he stood for Tunis. But most of his captains disobeyed orders, and entered Cartagena, where they hoped to find booty. There the Spaniards allowed Blake to attack them, and, to escape capture, they ran their ships ashore and burnt them. Rupert and Maurice, unaware of the disaster, left letters for their missing captains, under a stone, on the coast of Tunis, and sailed for Toulon. But a sudden storm separated the Princes, and Maurice arrived at Toulon alone with his prizes; not knowing what was become of his brother, and fearing the worst.[[11]]

The condition of Toulon was somewhat disturbed, for the wars of the Fronde were then raging in France, and the town, at that moment, was for the Prince of Condé against the court. Maurice was therefore warned by the French Admiral commanding in the port, to be very careful of himself and of his ships. But happily both the magistrates of the town and the officers of the forts showed themselves well-disposed to the Prince. They hastened to visit him, offered all the aid they could give him, and pressed him daily to come on shore. Maurice, "through grief for that sad separation from his brother,"[[12]] declined their invitations, and refused, for several days, to leave his ship. At last the twofold necessity of disposing of his prize goods, and of purchasing a new mast, determined him to land; but before the appointed day arrived, he was relieved from anxiety by the appearance of Rupert himself in the port. The meeting was rapturous. "I need not express the joy of their embraces, after so long and tedious absence, with the uncertainty of either's safety," says a witness of it, "wanting expressions to decipher the affectionate passion of two such brothers, who, after so long time of hardship, now found themselves locked in each others arms, in a place of safety."[[13]] The brothers, thus reunited, went on shore together, where they were received with great enthusiasm, and were "magnificently treated"[[14]] at the house of the French Admiral.

Soon after this the captains who had lost their ships at Cartagena arrived to explain themselves, and each by accusing the others endeavoured to excuse himself. Being in a foreign port, Rupert would not hold a court-martial, but finally the flight of one captain seemed to declare his guilt, and clear the rest, though they did not escape without a severe reprimand for disobeying orders.

The delay at Toulon lasted for a considerable time, and in the interval Rupert received a summons to Paris from the Queen Regent and Queen Henrietta, who offered him important employment in France, if he would leave the command of his fleet to Maurice. But Rupert did not believe his brother capable of managing the fleet alone, and he was resolved not to abandon the desperate undertaking to which he was pledged.[[15]] The fleet was then reduced to three sail, the "Constant Reformation," (Admiral,) and the "Swallow," (Vice-Admiral,) and Maurice's prize; and Rupert strained his slender resources to the utmost in order to purchase a new ship, which he named the "Honest Seaman." About the same time he was joined by a Captain Craven with a vessel of his own, which made up the number to five sail. At last, after much delay and trouble, the prize goods were advantageously disposed of, the ships were supplied from the Royal Stores of France, and the Princes were ready to seek new adventures. The Channel and the coast of Spain were now so well guarded by the Parliament ships as to be unsafe for the Princes' little fleet. Rupert saw that he must now seek distant seas, and after putting his enemies off his track by inquiring of suspected spies the best advice for sailing to the Archipelago, he slipped quietly away to the coast of Barbary. "I infinitely pity the poor Prince, who wanted all manner of counsel and a confident friend to reveal his mind unto,"[[16]] wrote Hatton to Nicholas.

The first prize taken in the Straits was a Genoese vessel, bound for a Spanish port, which was taken, partly in reprisal for the stealing of one of Rupert's caravels by the Genoese, and partly because the sailors clamoured for her capture. A Spanish galleon was next taken, and her crew put on shore, after which Rupert made for Madeira. This island was possessed by the Portuguese, and the Princes were received with all kindness. The Governor, with all his officers, came on board the Admiral, and the Princes afterwards paid a return visit to the fort, when they were courteously received, and "accompanied to the sight of all that was worthy seeing on the island."[[17]]

Rupert's secret intention was to make for the West Indies, but no sooner did his mind become known, than the plan was vehemently opposed by most of his officers. The true cause of their opposition was the belief that the idea had originated with Fearnes, the captain of the Admiral, who seems to have been very unpopular with the rest of the fleet. So high did the dissension run that Rupert felt himself compelled to call a council, the members of which, with two exceptions, voted to make for the Azores, alleging that the Admiral, which had lately sprung a leak, was unfit for the long voyage to the West Indies. Moved by his new-born anxiety to avoid the charges of "self-will and rashness," Rupert yielded to the voices of the majority, against his better judgment. To the Azores they went, and, as the Prince expected, disaster followed.[[18]] No prizes were taken, there was found no convenient harbour where the Admiral's leak might be stopped, and so bad was the weather that, for long, the ships could not approach the shores to get provisions. When, at last, they made the island of St. Michael—also a Portuguese possession—they were as well received as they had been at Madeira, and here also the Governor conducted the Princes "to all the monasteries and place of note."[[19]] Next Rupert stood for Terceira, but the Governor of that island belonged to the faction which had opposed the Royalists at Lisbon, and showed himself unfriendly. Still, he permitted Rupert to purchase wine and meat, and, the bargain arranged, the fleet returned to St. Michael. On the way the Admiral sprang a new leak, which could not be found, nor was there any harbour where she could be safely unloaded that it might be discovered. Rupert again proposed the voyage to the West Indies, but the suggestion nearly produced a mutiny, which the Prince only quashed by promptly breaking up the meetings of the disaffected.

While affairs were in this state, and the supply of provisions yet uncompleted, stormy weather drove the ships out to sea. The leak in the Admiral increased rapidly, and her boat, which was too large to be hoisted in, was washed away from her. On the same day, the Vice-Admiral, attempting to hoist in her own boat, sunk it at her side. The storm raged without abatement for three days, at the end of which the Admiral's condition was hopeless. By continually firing her guns she had contrived to keep the other ships near her, and by constant pumping the disaster had been deferred. But on the third morning, September 30th, 1651, at 3 a.m., the ship sprang a plank, and though a hundred and twenty pieces of raw beef were trodden down between the timbers, and planks nailed over them, it was without avail. The sails were blown away, and by ten o'clock of the same morning, the water was rushing in so fast that the men could not stand in the hold to bale. In this desperate condition, the whole crew behaved with real heroism. Having thrown the guns overboard, in the vain endeavour to lighten the ship, they resigned all hope, and resolved to die together. The storm was so violent that none of the other ships dared to approach the Admiral, lest they should perish with her. Once the "Honest Seaman" ran across her bowsprit, in the hope that some of the crew might save themselves on her, but none made the attempt. Rupert then signalled Maurice to come under his stern, that he might speak his last words to him. Approaching as near as possible, the two Princes tried to shout to one another, "but the hideous noise of the seas and winds over-noised their voices."[[20]] Maurice, frantic with distress, declared that he would save his brother or perish; but his captain and officers, less ready to sacrifice their lives, "in mutinous words" refused to lay their ship alongside the Admiral. Seeing his orders given in vain, Maurice next tried to send out a little boat which he had on board, but, though his men feigned to obey him, they delayed, as long as possible, getting the boat ready. "The Captain of the Vice-Admiral cannot be excused," says an indignant letter, "for when he saw the ship perishing he made no action at all for their boat to help to save the men, but walked upon the deck, saying: 'Gentlemen, it is a great mischance, but who can help it?' And the master never brought the ship near the perishing ship, notwithstanding Prince Maurice's commands, and his earnestness to have it done."[[21]]

At last it occurred to the crew of the Admiral that their Prince, at least, might be saved in their one small boat, and they "beseeched His Highness" to make use of it. But of this Rupert would not hear. He thanked the men for their affection to him, and declined to leave them, saying that they had long shared his fortunes, and he would now share theirs. Then they represented to him that, supposing he could get on board another ship,—a very remote chance in such a sea,—he might, by his authority, cause something to be done to save the rest of them. Seeing that he still hesitated, they wasted no more time in parley, but promptly overpowered him, and placed him forcibly in the boat, "desiring him, at parting, to remember they died his true servants."[[22]] By a miraculous chance, as it seemed then, the little boat reached the "Honest Seaman" in safety, and, having put the Prince on board her, returned at once to rescue some others. Only Captain Fearnes accepted the offered rescue. M. Mortaigne, whom Rupert especially entreated to come to him, preferred to die with the rest, and after this second journey, the little skiff sank. Rupert, now as frantic as Maurice had been before, ordered the "Honest Seaman" to run towards the Admiral, and enter the men on her bowsprit. The Captain obeyed to his best ability, but could not accomplish his aim, because the Admiral, having lost her last sail, and being heavy with water, could not stir. The gallant crew signalled their farewells to their Prince, and were then invited by their Chaplain, who had remained with them, to receive the Holy Communion. For some hours longer the ship remained above water, but at nine o'clock at night she sank with all on board, the crew burning two fire-pikes as a last farewell to their Admiral.

Rupert, for once in his life, was utterly crushed by the weight of misfortune. He was taken next day into his brother's ship, and there he remained for some time, "overladen with the grief of so inestimable a loss", and leaving everything to the care and management of Maurice. The loss of the treasure on board the Admiral had been enormous, amounting to almost the whole of the year's gains; but, wrote Rupert to Herbert, "it was not the greatest loss to me!"[[23]] Of the Prince's own enforced rescue we have three separate accounts. "The Prince was unwilling to leave us, and resolved to die with us," reported the Captain.[[24]] And says another writer: "His Highness would certainly have perished with them, if some of his officers, more careful of his preservation than himself, had not forced him into a small boat and carried him on board the 'Honest Seaman.'"[[25]] It is also noted in the common-place book of one Symonds, a manuscript now preserved in the British Museum: "It is very remarkable of Prince Rupert that, his ship having sprung a plank in the midst of the sea.... he seemed not ready to enter the boat for safety, nor did intend it. They all, about sixty, besought him to save himself, and to take some of them with him in the boat to row him; telling him that he was destined and appointed for greater matters."[[26]]

Misfortunes, as usual, did not come singly. Making for Fayal, with Maurice still in command, the "Swallow" and the "Honest Seaman" fell in with the other three ships, from which they had been separated, but only in time to witness the wreck of the "Loyal Subject." This time the Portuguese were far less friendly than before. Apparently they feared lest the English should appropriate a Spanish vessel which had just surrendered at Pico, and when Maurice sent to offer his assistance, they fired upon his envoys. Maurice's officer insisted upon landing and was promptly arrested, without a hearing. The "Honest Seaman" and the "Revenge" thereupon fired on the Portuguese, but without effect, and the whole fleet stood away to Fayal, where they found that the officers whom they had left on shore to secure supplies, had also been arrested. The necessity for action roused Rupert from his melancholy. He guessed that the changed attitude of the Governors must be due to a peace made between Portugal and the English Commonwealth, and saw that he must act with decision. He therefore sent to the Governor of Fayal, saying that Prince Rupert was in his harbour, on board the "Swallow," and that unless his men were at once released, and things placed on the former friendly footing, he would free his men by force, and would also write to the King of Portugal "a particular of the affronts he had received." Evidently Rupert was a much more awe-inspiring person than Maurice, for the Governor, terrified by the unexpected discovery of his presence, at once released his prisoners, and permitted the Princes to take in their stores unmolested.[[27]]

Rupert was determined now to go to the West Indies, and, in order to prevent factious opposition, he sent his secretary on board each ship in turn to require the opinion of each officer, in writing, as to what it would be best to do. By this device all collusion was prevented, and consequently the majority decided with the Prince, for the West Indies. The only two dissentients were the Captain and Master of the Vice-Admiral, who had behaved so badly at the wreck of the Admiral. These two were for going to the mouth of the Channel to take prizes. But their advice was generally scouted, as it was evident to all that the ships could not live in the northern seas. The dissentient Captain thereupon quitted the fleet, "pretending a quarrel he had with Captain Fearnes,"[[28]] and Rupert willingly let him go.

Distrusting the Portuguese in the Azores, the Princes sailed towards the Canary Islands, hoping to meet with prizes from which they might obtain new rigging and other necessities, for all the ships were in a terribly damaged condition. Stress of weather forced them to put in at Cape Blanco, in Arguin, on the coast of Africa, where, finding a good harbour, they resolved to refit. A Dutch vessel, which had also taken refuge there, supplied them with pilots, and with planks and other necessaries for the repair of their ships. Having obtained these things, they set up tents on land, in which they stored their cargoes, while they brought the ships aground.

The repairs involved a considerable delay, and Rupert wished to employ the time in procuring new provisions. Fish was to be found in great abundance, but no cattle could be purchased on account of the timidity of the natives, who fled at the approach of Europeans. This timidity was exceedingly annoying to Rupert, and on January 1st, 1651, he marched inland with a hundred men, being resolved to get speech with the natives. A fog favoured him, so that he came upon an encampment before the people were aware of his neighbourhood. Nevertheless no sooner did they see him than they took to flight, leaving behind them their tents, and their flocks of sheep and goats. In a final attempt to detain them Rupert shot a camel, but the act naturally did not reassure them, and the rider mounted another and fled, "but for haste left a man-child behind, which by fortune was guided to His Highness, as a New Year's gift. The poor infant, embracing his legs very fast, took him for his own parent."[[29]] Child and flocks being carefully secured, Rupert marched on after the natives, dividing his men into small companies, that they might appear the less alarming. This plan succeeded so far that at length two natives came back with a flag of truce, desiring to treat for the recovery of the child and the sheep. To this the Prince readily consented; whereupon the men promised to come to him in two days' time, and he returned to his fleet.

According to promise, the African envoys appeared on the shore, Jan. 3rd, and desired a hostage. Rupert, doubtful of their good faith, refused to order any man to risk his life; but one volunteered, and was allowed to go. Then the Africans, making no offers of trading with the Prince, demanded the child's surrender, "expressing great sorrow for the loss thereof." This increased Rupert's suspicions, and he ordered his men to keep well within their own lines. One sailor, disobeying, went out upon the cliff, and was immediately killed by the natives, who, having thus broken truce, killed their hostage also, and fled. Rupert pursued in great fury, but without being able to overtake them. A second expedition, led by Robert Holmes, had no better result, and the child remained in Rupert's possession.[[30]] In 1653, "an African lad of five "is mentioned by one of Cromwell's spies, as "part of the prey the Prince brought over seas;"[[31]] and reference is made to "the little nigger"[[32]] in several of Robert Holmes's letters to Rupert.

The Dutch vessel from which the Prince had obtained his planks, now sent him supplies of water from the Island of Arguin, and seeing her thus well-disposed, he chartered her to carry his prize cargo of ginger and sugar to France. He also took the opportunity of sending a brief account of his adventures and misfortunes to the King, and to Sir Edward Herbert. The copy of his letter to Charles II is headed: "What our ship's company desired me to say to the King," and is as follows.

"Sire,—By several ways I have given your Majesty a general account of our good and bad fortunes, since we left Toulon, but fearing some, if not all, may have had worse fortune than I am confident this will, I have made a more particular relation to Sir Edward Herbert of both, to which I could add more particulars to shew your Majesty how I have been hindered in a design to do your Majesty eminent service, but, Sire, I shall leave this until I have the happiness to be nearer your Majesty. In the meantime I have sent an order on Mr. Carteret, with some goods, to pay the debts of your Majesty I made at Toulon, and some others, which belong to me, my brother, and the seamen, the proceed of which I have ordered to be put into Sir Edward Herbert's hands for yourself, or your brother's necessities; be pleased to command what you will of it. In such a case, I dare say, there will be none among us will grumble at it. All I humbly beg is that Sir Edward Herbert may receive your Majesty's commands by word of mouth, or under your own hand, and that your Majesty be pleased to look upon us, as having undergone some hazards equal with others. Had it pleased God to preserve the 'Constant Reformation' (the Admiral), I had loaded this vessel with better goods."[[33]]

To Herbert the Prince wrote at greater length, giving an account of the wreck of the Admiral, and of the factious opposition he had encountered among his officers. He explained also that the shares of each man in the prizes taken had been adjudged by the chaplain, Dr. Hart, and he concluded: "If His Majesty or the Duke of York be in necessity themselves, pray dispose of all to what they have need of, for their own use; I mean after the debts I made at Toulon for the fleet are satisfied. I wrote word so to His Majesty."[[34]] Some eight years later, at the Restoration, those debts which weighed so heavily on Rupert's conscience were still unpaid, and the fact is worth remembering in connection with the quarrel that the Prince had with the King on his return to France.

The cargo being despatched and the ships repaired, the Princes made for the Cape Verd Islands, where they took in water and "one thousand dried goats."[[35]] From there they went to Santiago, which they found inhabited chiefly by negroes. There was, however, a Portuguese Governor, Don Jorge de Mesquita de Castello Baranquo, who overwhelmed them with attentions, and presents of fruit. Rupert returned his civilities with such presents as his cargo afforded, and wrote to the King of Portugal gratefully acknowledging the kindness of Don Jorge. The letter bears date March 2nd, 1652.[[36]] When the Princes had been some days in the harbour, Don Jorge informed them that certain English vessels, bound for Guinea, were at anchor in the River Gambia, and offered pilots to take the Royalists up the river. This offer Rupert eagerly accepted, but the pilots proved inefficient, and mistook the channel, forcing the "Swallow," now the Admiral, to anchor in very shallow water. Rupert went out in his boat to sound for the channel, and while thus occupied, came upon a ship belonging to the Duke of Courland, on the Baltic. The Courlanders at once told the Prince the whereabouts of the English vessels, and offered to pilot him up to them. With their help, the Admiral weighed anchor, found the channel, and captured an English ship, the "John." On board this ship was a negro interpreter, known as Captain Jacus, and the son of the Governor of Portodale. To these two Rupert showed much kindness, freely giving them their liberty, an action for which he soon reaped an ample reward. That night Rupert's fleet anchored by the Courlander, which continued professions of friendship and offers of aid, for which the Prince returned grateful thanks.

On the following morning, Rupert took a Spaniard, but failed to get into the tributary of the Gambia, where lay an English ship. With the next tide Maurice succeeded in getting in, and as soon as it was light, began the attack. The Englishman quickly surrendered, on a promise of quarter, and freedom for the Captain. Then, too late, the crew remembered that no terms had been made for the merchant whom they had on board. A dispute arose as to the fairness of the agreement already made, and Maurice, in true sporting spirit, offered to free the captured ship, and fight it out over again;[[37]] but the English crew, declining the quixotic offer, accepted his former terms, and Maurice boarded them, still in exuberant spirits. "See what friends you have of these Portugals!" he cried in youthful triumph. "But for them we should never have come hither and taken you."[[38]] Altogether three English ships, the "Friendship," the "John," and the "Marmaduke," had been captured in the river, besides the Spaniard. Rupert distributed the crews of the prizes among his own ships, and Maurice, re-naming the largest of the prizes, the "Defiance," made her the Vice-Admiral.

The natives of the country, thinking to please Rupert, and anxious, possibly, to gratify old grudges, murdered several sailors of the Parliament who had landed. But Rupert, "abhorring to countenance infidels in the shedding of Christian blood," took care to intimate his deep displeasure.[[39]] Thereupon the brother and son of the native King came to visit him. He received them with all due courtesy, offering them chairs to sit upon, which, however, they gravely declined, saying that only their King was worthy of such an honour.

But notwithstanding the friendly disposition of the natives Rupert could not prolong his stay in the river. The time of the tornadoes—May to July—was drawing near, and preparation was necessary. The Princes therefore broke up their Spanish prize, as unfit for service, bequeathed her guns to the Courlanders, and sailed for the Cape de Verd Islands. By the way some of their ships were missed, and they anchored on the coast to await them. During the delay, the natives stole away one of Maurice's sailors, and Maurice, finding fair words unavailing, sent a force, under Holmes, to recover him. The two boats, in which Holmes and his men were embarked, were overturned in the surf, and lost at their landing, but happily, the liberated negro, Jacus, came to their help with a party of his friends. Then Maurice sent a third boat to bring his men back, but with orders not to land unless Jacus advised it. Holmes and his force were safely re-embarked, when the captain of the boat, mistaking Maurice's orders, declared that they were to take Jacus back with them. On hearing this, Holmes went once more on shore, to speak to Jacus, and, during the delay involved, the hostile negroes began to attack the crew. The sailors shot a negro, and captured one of their canoes, which so incensed the rest that they seized upon Holmes and another man who had accompanied him. The men in Maurice's boat saw themselves outnumbered, and returned in all haste to their ship, with the bad news. Both Princes were "extremely moved," and, swearing that they would rescue their comrades or perish in the attempt, they went ashore to treat with the natives. The negroes declared, through Jacus, that they would release Holmes if their canoe were returned, and the men in her set at liberty. Rupert at once signalled to the Vice-Admiral to free the canoe, but no sooner was it done than Jacus came running down to the shore, with the news that his countrymen intended treachery, and would not release their prisoners. It proved too late to re-take the canoe, but the Prince fired on the natives, who were gathering round him, and signalled all his ships to send men to his aid. The natives fought with much courage; and Rupert himself was wounded by a poisoned arrow, which he instantly cut out with his knife. While he engaged the attention of the hostile negroes, Jacus and his friends contrived to free Holmes and his comrade, and to embark them safely in Maurice's pinnace. This done, the Princes retreated to their fleet; but they did not show themselves ungrateful to Jacus, "whose fidelity," says one of the crew, "may teach us that heathens are not void of moral honesty." On the day following, Rupert sent his thanks, and an offer to take Jacus with him and "to reward him for his faith and pains." But Jacus, wishing the Princes all good luck, declined their offer; he was, he said, not in the least afraid to remain with his own tribe.[[40]]

The missing ships being come up, the Princes continued their voyage towards the Cape Verd Islands, taking a large English prize on the way. Two smaller English vessels were captured by the "Revenge" at Mayo, and Maurice took a Dane, but was promptly ordered to release her, by his brother. Then most of the ships went with Maurice to St. Iago, taking a present of 900 hides out of the spoil, to the Governor; the Admiral and the "Revenge" went on to Sal. The "Revenge," as it happened, was largely manned by the sailors taken in the prizes. These men, being naturally disaffected to the Princes, overpowered their officers in the night, and stole away to England. They reached home in safety, and were able to give a very edifying account of Rupert and his crews to the Parliament: "For their delight is in cursing and swearing, and plundering and sinking, and despoiling all English ships they can lay their talons on." Still the report of the Royalists' condition must have been very encouraging to their enemies. "The 'Swallow' and the 'Honest Seaman' were so leaky that they had to pump day and night, and consequently cannot keep long at sea. They had not above three weeks' bread, and nothing but water, at the time when they took the three ships in the River Gambia," said the escaped prisoners.[[41]] Rupert, on missing the "Revenge," guessed what had happened, but he touched at Mayo to ask if she had been sighted. His presence there so terrified a Spanish crew that they landed all their cargo, which was at once seized by the Portuguese. Rupert then returned to Santiago, where he took in water and provisions, bestowed the hulk of a prize on "the Religious people of the Charity," made "a handsome present to the Governor, in acknowledgment of his civilities," and took a final leave of the Island.[[42]]

The Princes were now fairly on their way to the West Indies; but, near Barbadoes, the Admiral sprang a leak, and had to put into Santa Lucia, in the Caribbees, the men "being almost spent with extreme labour."[[43]] Four days later, the leak being stopped, they proceeded towards St. Martinique, meeting on the way some Dutch men-of-war, with the officers of which they exchanged visits and civilities. The French Governor of St. Martinique proved very hospitable, and, moreover, sent the Princes a timely warning that all the English possessions in the West Indies had surrendered to the Parliament. Having returned grateful thanks for this information, the Royalists proceeded to San Dominique, where the natives brought them fruit, in exchange for glass beads. On the day before Whit Sunday they reached Montserrat, where they seized two small ships, but one, proving to be the property of Royalists, was released. At Nevis they found a large number of English vessels, which, like a flock of frightened animals, "began to shift for themselves," some endeavouring to escape, and others running ashore.[[44]] A brief engagement took place, in which Rupert's secretary was shot down at his side, 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 cassava 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 hardships, the sailors bore the privation with cheerful courage. The scarcity of food caused them to leave the Virgins as soon as the leaky ships 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 ships 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 ashore 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 snatched from us in obscurity, lest beholding his loss would have prevented others from endeavouring their own safety; 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 ship could not be neglected. Alas, one ship, 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 hardships, if not of his troubles. Early one morning in the March of 1653, he came into the Loire and anchored at St. Lazar. The next day, in attempting to get higher up the river, he ran his ship aground. The crew were anxious to leave her to her fate, but Rupert had not come through so many difficulties only to succumb 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 destitute sovereign and his fleet. Yet he kept within the limits he had set himself, and made prizes only of ships 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 ship taken by mistake were set free. That the Prince endured hardship, 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 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 ships at his command, with those ships 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.

[[22]] Warburton, III. p. 335.

[[23]] Warburton, III. p. 349.

[[24]] Rupert Transcripts. Captain Fearnes' Relation.

[[25]] Warburton, III. p. 540.

[[26]] Harleian MSS. 991.

[[27]] Warburton, III. p. 340.

[[28]] Ibid. p. 537, Pitts to —. No date.

[[29]] Warburton, III. p. 345.

[[30]] Warburton, III. pp. 346-7.

[[31]] Thurloe State Papers, II. 405.

[[32]] Rupert Transcripts. Holmes to Rupert, May 3 and 19, 1653.

[[33]] Warburton, III. p. 348.

[[34]] Ibid. p. 349. This letter is supposed by Warburton to be written to Hyde, but it is without address; and the three references of Rupert to Herbert in the letter to the King seem to imply that the accompanying letter was intended for Herbert, and not Hyde.

[[35]] Warburton, III. p. 541, Feb. 1st 1652.

[[36]] Ibid. p. 366.

[[37]] Warburton. III. p. 359.

[[38]] Domestic State Papers. Commonwealth, 41. fol. 34. 8 Oct. 1653. Report of Walker.

[[39]] Warburton, III. p. 360.

[[40]] Warburton, III. pp. 363-367.

[[41]] Domestic State Papers. Commonwealth. Vol. XXIV. f. 60. June (?), 1652. Coxon's Report.

[[42]] Warburton, III. p. 370.

[[43]] Ibid. p. 371.

[[44]] Ibid. p. 376.

[[45]] Warburton, III. p. 337.

[[46]] Warburton, III. p. 382.

[[47]] Ibid. p. 384.

[[48]] Ibid. p. 546.

[[49]] Warburton, III. p. 388.

[[50]] Rupert Transcripts. Journal, Feb. 26, 1651.