Strange enough was the position of the Jacobite lady in the Hanoverian Court, but the situation was rendered yet more complicated by the presence of Rupert's daughter, Ruperta, as the wife of Brigadier-General Emanuel Scrope Howe, William III's "envoy extraordinary to the most Serene House of Brunswick Lunenburg." The mother of Ruperta was a far less reputable person than was Francesca Bard. Rupert had, as we have seen, kept himself apart from much of the wickedness of Charles II's court, but in the summer of 1668 he was unhappily persuaded to accompany his cousin to Tunbridge Wells. There he fell a victim to the charms of the actress, Margaret Hughes.[[65]] This woman obtained considerable influence over him, and he purchased for her a house at Hammersmith; also he left to her and his daughter, in equal shares, all that remained of his personal property, after the claims of Dudley and his servants had been satisfied. This, when all had been realised, amounted to about £6,000 each; not an extravagant provision, but then Rupert did not die rich.
Occasional mention of Mrs. Hughes is found in contemporary letters. In 1670 her brother, who was in Rupert's service, was killed by one of the King's servants, in a dispute over the rival charms of Peg Hughes and Nell Gwyn.[[66]] A little later, Sophie informed the Elector that the woman was in high favour at Windsor, and would, she feared, get possession of the Queen of Bohemia's jewels. "Ein jeder seiner Weis gefelt!" she concluded sarcastically.[[67]] In another letter she wrote that the Danish Ambassador thought Mrs. Hughes very modest. "I was going to say the most modest of the Court, but that would be no great praise!"[[68]] She seems, however, to have put slight faith in the assurance, for she earnestly desired Ruperta's marriage, on the grounds that she could get no good from her mother.[[69]] It was said that Rupert, when dying, had sent his Garter to the King, with the request that it, together with the hand of Ruperta, might be bestowed on Charles's son, Lord Burford.[[70]] With this request the King did not comply; and about 1696 Ruperta married Emmanuel Howe, son of Mr. John Howe of Langar, in Nottinghamshire.
For some time the marriage was kept a secret, for Howe feared the displeasure of the then King, William III. At last, just before his departure to Hanover, he permitted the Duke of Albemarle to break the news to the King. William was pleased to be gracious, and even recommended Ruperta to Sophie's notice, saying: "She is very modest, and lives like an angel with her husband."[[71]] The husband in question met with Sophie's approval, for she thought him "a fine man, rich, and in a good position."[[72]] With Francesca he had a double cause of enmity, both public and private, and he wrote of her as virulently as his predecessors had done, declaring that she "has done her endeavours continually to cross my transactions here for the Queen's service;"[[73]] and again,—"She is indeed a very simple creature, but as malitious and violent as is possible for anything to bee."[[74]]
Nevertheless the large-hearted Electress made her niece almost as welcome as she had made her reputed sister-in-law, and the Jacobite intrigante and the Orange Ambassadress, both so closely connected with Rupert, seem to have contrived to reside in comparative peace, under the protection of the mother of the house of Hanover.
But for the bar sinister the claim of Ruperta to the English throne would have preceded that of Sophie's son, George I. It has sometimes been regretted that Rupert left no legitimate child who might have reigned in George's stead; but it may be safely conjectured that the fact would not have been a subject of regret with Rupert himself. He would have been the last person to wish that any child of his should supplant the house of Stuart, which he had so long and so faithfully served. Honest in all his dealings, faithful to his friends, and unswervingly loyal to his king he had ever been, and in his old age he would not have turned traitor. Loyalty and strength were the key-notes of his character. Never did he break his given word, with friend and foe alike he scrupulously kept faith, and whatsoever he found to do, he did it with all his might. In all things he had the courage of his opinions; and the rigid temperance which he practised from his earliest youth, in an age and a country where drinking was almost universal, shows an unusual independence of character, and an unusual degree of self-respect.
His private life, if judged by the standard of the present day, was far from virtuous, but it was virtue itself when compared with the practice of those who were his daily associates. His exceptional powers of mind raised him above the ordinary intellectual level; his personal valour surpassed all common courage! But, if his talents and virtues were in the superlative degree, so also were his failings. His consciousness of his own powers made him over-confident, impatient of advice, intolerant of contradiction. His jealous pride rendered him incapable of filling the second place. With advancing years these faults were somewhat amended,—for Rupert was too wise not to profit by experience; but, as his hot temper and youthful insolence had won him the hatred of Charles I's courtiers, so his cold cynicism and haughty disdain made him detested of the Court of Charles II.
In the coarse and witty memoirs of that brilliant Court, Rupert passes without notice, or with only an occasional satirical reference. One noble writer, Anthony Hamilton, has, however, left a description of him, which, though written in prejudice, is not without its value.
"He was brave and courageous to rashness, but cross-grained, and incorrigibly obstinate. His genius was fertile in mathematical experiments, and he had some knowledge of chemistry. He was polite to extravagance when there was no occasion for it; but haughty and rude where it was his interest to conciliate. He was tall and ungracious. He had a hard, stern expression even when he wished to please, and when he was out of temper his countenance was truly terrifying"—("une physiognomic vraiment de reprouvé").[[75]]
Such was the view of a courtier; Rupert's friends and inferiors saw him in another light. Beneath the cynical exterior the Prince had a kind heart still; his personal followers loved him; the poor blessed him for his charity; the trades-people remembered with wondering gratitude his "just and ready payment of their bills;" the sailors looked to him as the "seaman's friend;" impecunious scholars and inventors sought, not in vain, his aid and countenance; the distressed Cavaliers appealed to him in well-founded confidence that they would be heard and helped.[[76]] "In respect of his private life," says Campbell, writing while the memory of the Prince still dwelt among the living, "he was so just, so beneficent, so courteous, that his memory remained dear to all who knew him; this I say of my own knowledge, having often heard old people in Berkshire speak in raptures of Prince Rupert!"[[77]]
[[1]] Briefwechsel der Herzogin Sophie mit Karl Ludwig von der Pfalz. p. 38. Sophie to Karl. 21 Sept. 1660.