The surgeon operated upon the Prince, who wrote November 6, to the King: "I could not go from shipp to shipp to hasten the work, since Choqueux will not let me stir, to which I consented the rather, since he promises to have me quite well and whoele in a few days."[[13]] But the promise was not made good, and a very dangerous illness ensued. "Prince Rupert, by a chance, has bruised his head, and cannot get cured," says one of the Hatton correspondents in December. "He is gone up to London to endeavour it there... He is mightily worn away, and in their opinion that are about him is not long-lived. He would fain go to Guinea, and is endeavouring to be despatched there; he believes the warmth of that clime would do him good."[[14]] Life, apparently, still held attractions for Rupert. According to Pepys, he was "much chagrined" at the idea of dying, but recovered his spirits wonderfully when assured of convalescence. "Since we told him that we believe he would overcome his disease, he is as merry, and swears, and laughs, and curses, and do all the things of a man in health as ever he did in his life."[[15]]
The illness lasted a long time; but though he was exceedingly weak, Rupert did not fail to take his part in the first Dutch war. The formal declaration of war was made in February 1665, to the great joy of the English nation, whose commercial heart had been stirred by colonial jealousies. "What matters this or that reason?" cried the honest Duke of Albemarle (General Monk). "What we want is more of the trade which the Dutch now have!"[[16]] France, for equally selfish reasons, threw in her lot with the Dutch, but delayed coming to their assistance; and the first engagement did not take place till June 13, 1665.
The English fleet was divided into three squadrons, Red, White and Blue. In the Red commanded the Duke of York, as Lord High Admiral; Rupert was Admiral of the White, and his rival, Lord Sandwich, led the Blue. On the twenty-first of April they sailed to the Texel, hoping to blockade the Zuyder Zee, meet De Ruyter on his return from Africa, and cut off the home-coming vessels. The English commanders, Rupert excepted, believed that the Dutch would at once come out and fight. But Rupert proved right, the Dutch made no sign, and within a fortnight, want of provisions drove the English back to Harwich.
In the meantime the Dutch sent forth a fleet of 103 men-of-war, 7 yachts, 11 fire-ships, and 12 galiots. This was divided into seven squadrons, and placed under the joint command of Evertsen and Opdam. By May 13th they were at sea, and immediately captured some English merchantmen coming from Hamburg. There was an outcry of indignation in England, and the fleet hurried to sea. On June 3rd the rival fleets met in Southwold Bay. The English, who had 109 men-of-war and 28 fire-ships and ketches, were numerically superior to their enemy. Opdam was, besides, hopelessly hampered by imperative commands from the States to fight at once, and by a want of military pride and esprit de corps throughout his fleet. The action began with Rupert in the van, York in the centre, and Sandwich in the rear. Rupert "received the charge" of the Dutch fleet, not firing until close to it, and then shooting through and through it.[[17]] Having thus met, the two fleets passed each other, and then turned to renew the encounter. Sandwich, getting mixed up with the Dutch, cut their fleet in two and a general mêlée ensued. In the Dutch centre the Junior Admiral was killed, and his crew, in a panic, carried their ship out of action. Twelve or thirteen other vessels imitated this ungallant conduct, and when,—after a desperate encounter with the Royal Charles,—Opdam's ship blew up, the fate of the battle was decided. Evertsen and Tromp, each believing the other killed, both took command and issued contrary orders. Three or four of their vessels ran foul of one another, and were burnt by an English fire-ship; by 7 p.m. the whole Dutch fleet had begun a disorderly retreat.[[18]]
The Dutch losses had been very heavy, those of the English comparatively slight; but the English fire-ships were expended, and the wind blew hard for the coast of Holland, which made a too vigorous pursuit of the flying foe dangerous. Nevertheless, the Duke of York ordered the chase to be continued, and retired to rest. Sir William Penn, who was on board the "Royal Charles" as first Captain of the fleet, also went to sleep, leaving the ship in the charge of Captain Harman. During the night one of the Duke's gentlemen, Brouncker, came and urged Harman to slacken sail, in consideration of the danger to which the Duke was exposed. This, Harman refused to do; but when Brouncker returned later, with an order purporting to come from James himself, he reluctantly yielded. Next morning the enemy was out of sight, and James expressed both surprise and displeasure at the discovery, denying that he had ever ordered the chase to be given up. The affair was hotly discussed, and Bishop Burnet plainly implies that the Duke had used this cowardly device to save both his person and his reputation.[[19]] But James was no coward, and it is exceedingly unlikely that he would have stooped to such a trick. Rupert and Albemarle, who hated Penn, would fain have blamed him as "a cowardly rogue who brought all the roguish fanatic captains into the fleet."[[20]] But Penn declared that he had been in bed at the time, and knew nothing about the matter. The statement elicited from Brouncker, in a Parliamentary inquiry, that he had acted on his own responsibility, out of anxiety for the Duke's safety, was probably the real truth.
Rupert, though in an extremely weak state of health, had shown his usual courage and energy in the action. The official reports did not give satisfaction to his admirers. "Not a word is said of Prince Rupert, though the seamen say that none excelled him in valour and success," they complained.[[21]] The Prince himself wrote cheerfully to Arlington, though, as his letter confesses, he was again on the sick-list. "My greatest joy is to have ben so happie as to have bin a small instrument in this last encounter, to chastise so high an insolency as that of the Dutch. I hope, with his Majesty's good liking, to continue so, till they be brought to their duty; which work will be very easy if we linger not out the time, for which this place is not unfitt and will give a thousand excuses for delays. What this day will be resolved on in the Council I know not, being laid by the leg, by a small mistake of the Surgeon, of which I shall not trouble you. This is writt abed, as you may see by the ill caracter, which I desire you not to take ill."[[22]]
Though the Dutch had been defeated with great loss, the war was by no means over, and it was necessary to put to sea again, as soon as refitting had been accomplished. This time the Duke of York was forced, much against his will, to stay at home. Charles at the instigation of the Queen mother, forbade his brother again to risk his life, and offered the joint command of the fleet to Rupert and Sandwich. Rupert was supposed to have a personal aversion to Sandwich, which may or may not have been well grounded.[[23]] Sandwich's character has been variously represented, and, whether justly or not, his honesty was certainly suspected. His own creature, Pepys, a little later confided to his diary his concern for his lord in "that cursed business of the prizes," and his vehement disapproval of the whole affair.[[24]] On the other hand, both Evelyn and Clarendon esteemed Sandwich highly.
But be the reason what it may, Rupert was averse to sharing the command with him, and hesitated to accept it. A conference with the King at Hampton Court at last won him over; he submitted "very cheerfully," and forthwith made ready to sail.[[25]]
Unfortunately Coventry, who disliked Rupert "for no other reason than for not esteeming him at the same rate he valued himself," says Clarendon, succeeded in persuading the King that the result of such a union must be disastrous. When all was ready, and Rupert's "family" on board, the King affectionately informed his cousin that he could not dispense with his society that summer. Rupert, "though wonderfully surprised, perplexed, and even broken-hearted," offered no resistance. He quietly disembarked his retinue, and returned, "with very much trouble," to Court.[[26]]
Some consolation he may have found in the fact that Sandwich did nothing all the summer, and, on his return, fell under a cloud on charges of peculation. Rupert seems to have treated him with great kindness, giving him his countenance and support,[[27]] but the sympathies of the Parliament were evidenced by a proposal to vote to Rupert a gift of £10,000, and to Sandwich half-a-crown.[[28]]