In January 1639 Elizabeth's fears about Vienna seemed justified, for an English resident wrote thence to Secretary Windebank: "Prince Rupert is daily expected, and will be well treated, being likely to be liberated on parole. Hatzfeldt praises him for his ripeness of judgment, far beyond his years."[[14]] And to Rupert himself Hatzfeldt gave the assurance that he should see the Emperor—"Then the Emperor shall see me also!"[[15]] exclaimed the boy, in angry scorn. But the interview did not take place. In February Rupert was lodged, not at Vienna, but at Linz on the Danube, under the care of a certain Graf Kuffstein. Craven and Ferentz soon ransomed themselves. They had not been permitted to accompany the Prince further than Bamberg, though Lord Craven, who paid £20,000 for his own liberty, offered to pay more still for permission to share Rupert's captivity. But the Emperor was resolved to isolate the boy from all his friends, as a first step towards gaining him over to the Imperial politics, and the Roman faith. The Elector therefore attempted in vain to send some companion to his brother. "I must tell Your Majesty," he wrote to his mother, "that it will be in vain to send any gentleman to my brother, since he cannot go without Hatzfeldt's pass, for which I wrote long ago. But I have received from him an answer to all points in my letter, except to that, which is as much as a modest denial. Essex[[16]] should have gone, because there was no one else would, neither could I force any to it, since there is no small danger in it; for any obstinacy of my brother Rupert, or venture to escape, would put him in danger of hanging. The Administrator of Magdeburg was suffered to have but a serving-boy with him. Therefore one may easily imagine that they will much less permit him (i.e. Rupert) to have anybody with him that may persuade him to anything against their ends."[[17]]
As Charles surmised, Rupert's confinement was, at first, very vigorous. All the liberty that he enjoyed was an occasional walk in the castle garden; all his entertainment an occasional dinner with the Governor. Graf Kuffstein, himself a convert from Lutheranism, was commissioned by the Emperor to urge his desires on the young prisoner. "And very busy he was to get the prince to change his religion." At first he urged him to visit some Jesuits, but this Rupert refused to do unless he might also go elsewhere. Then Graf Kuffstein offered to bring the Jesuits to the Prince, but Rupert would only receive their visits on condition that other people might visit him also.[[18]] To the promise of liberal rewards if he would but serve in the Imperial army, the boy proved equally impervious; and though deprived of all society he found interests and occupations for himself. His artistic talents stood him in good stead, and he devoted himself much to drawing and etching. At this period also he perfected an instrument for drawing in perspective, which had been conceived, but never rendered practical, by Albert Durer. This instrument was in use in England after the Restoration of 1660. Military exercises Rupert also used, as far as his condition would permit. He was allowed to practise with "a screwed gun," and, after some time, he obtained leave "to ride the great horse," and to play at tennis. Naturally, constant efforts were made to procure his release. In July 1640 Lord Craven wrote to Secretary Windebank on the subject: "Mr. Webb has informed me that His Majesty has imposed upon you the putting him in mind of pressing on the Spanish Ambassador the delivery of Prince Rupert. I know you will, of yourself, be willing enough to perform that charitable action, however, the relation I have to that generous prince is such that I should fail of my duty if I did not entreat your vigilance in it."[[19]] King Charles sent Ambassadors extraordinary, not only to the Emperor, but also to Spain, whose intercession he entreated. The Cardinal Infant promised to plead, at least, for Rupert's better treatment, and King Charles next turned to France. France, then at war with the Empire, held prisoner Prince Casimir of Poland who, it seemed to Charles, might be a fit exchange for his nephew. Through Leicester he urged Prince Casimir's detention until Rupert's liberty were promised. But the scheme failed; Rupert, it was answered, was "esteemed an active prince,"[[20]] and would not be released, so long as danger threatened the Empire. So early had he acquired a warlike reputation.
Owing perhaps to the intercession of the Cardinal Infant of Spain, he was at last permitted the attendance of a page and groom, who might be Dutch or English, but not German. "I have sent Kingsmill his pass," wrote the Elector in August 1640, "he will be fit enough to pass my brother Rupert's time, and I do not think he will use his counsel in anything."[[21]] Of Kingsmill's arrival at Linz we hear nothing, but two other companions now relieved Rupert's solitude.
Susanne Marie von Kuffstein, daughter of Rupert's gaoler, was then a lovely girl of about sixteen. She was, says the writer of the Lansdowne MS., "one of the brightest beauties of the age, no less excelling in the beauty of her mind than of her body." On this fair lady the young prisoner's good looks, famous courage, and great misfortunes made a deep impression. She exerted herself to soften her father's heart, and to persuade him to gentler treatment of the captive. In this she succeeded so well "that the Prince's former favours were improved into familiarities, as continual visits, invitations and the like." Thus Rupert was enabled to enjoy Susanne's society, and that he did enjoy it there is very little doubt, "for he never named her after in his life, without demonstration of the highest admiration and expressing a devotion to serve her."[[22]] It has been suggested that the memory of Susanne von Kuffstein was the cause of Rupert's rejection of Marguerite de Rohan. There is, however, little ground for crediting him with such constancy. Maurice, it must be remembered, rejected the unfortunate Marguerite with equal decision. Moreover, Susanne herself married three times, and Rupert's sentiment towards her seems to have been nothing more passionate than a chivalrous and grateful admiration.
Besides Susanne the Prince had at Linz another friend,—his white poodle "Boye." This dog was a present from Lord Arundel, then English Ambassador at Vienna; it remained Rupert's inseparable companion for many years, and met at last a soldier's death on Marston Moor. The Prince also, for a short time, made a pet of a young hare, which he trained to follow him like a dog, but this he afterwards released, fearing that it might find captivity as irksome as did he himself.
Thus passed a two years' imprisonment, after which the Emperor deigned to offer terms to his captive. In the first place he required that Rupert should embrace the Roman faith. But the boy was a Palatine, and, though he had listened willingly to the persuasions of his aunt, Henrietta, the least hint of compulsion rendered him staunchly Protestant. He answered the Emperor, somewhat grandiloquently, "that he had not learnt to sacrifice his religion to his interest, and he would rather breathe his last in prison, than go out through the gates of Apostacy." The Emperor then consented to waive the question of religion, only insisting that Rupert must ask pardon for his crime of rebellion against the Holy Roman Empire. But to do this would have been to deny his brother's right to his Electorate, and Rupert only retorted coldly that he "disdained" to ask pardon for doing his duty. Finally, he was invited to take service under the Emperor, and to fight against France, which country had just imprisoned his eldest brother. But here also the boy was obdurate. To fight under the Emperor would inevitably involve fighting against the Swedes and the Protestant princes. Rupert therefore replied, "that he received the proposal rather as an affront than as a favour, and that he would never take arms against the champions of his father's cause."[[23]]
After such contumacy it may well be believed that the Emperor's patience was exhausted. His brother-in-law the Duke of Bavaria, then owner of the Upper Palatinate, and of the ducal title which was Rupert's birthright, suggested that the boy's spirit was not yet broken, and urged the Emperor to deprive him of his privileges. Accordingly, Graf Kuffstein was ordered to cease his civilities, and Rupert was placed in a confinement rendered stricter than ever, guarded day and night by twelve musketeers.
For this severity the proximity of a Swedish army was an additional reason. Maurice himself was serving in their ranks, and the Emperor feared lest Rupert should hold correspondence with them. Against these Swedes was despatched the Emperor's brother, the Archduke Leopold, who, very happily for Rupert, passed, on his way, through Linz. Being at Linz, the Archduke naturally visited the youthful prisoner who had made so much sensation, and was forthwith captivated by him. Leopold, whose gentle piety had won him the name of "the Angel", was but a few years older than the Palatine; the two had many tastes in common, and in that visit was established a friendship between Rupert the Devil and Leopold the Angel, which endured to the end of their lives.
The Archduke's intercession with the Emperor not only restored to Rupert his former privileges, but won him the additional liberty of leaving the castle on parole for so long as three days at a time.[[24]] As soon as this concession made their civilities possible, the nobles of the country showed themselves anxious to alleviate the tedium of Rupert's captivity. They "treated him with all the respects imaginable," invited him to their houses, and gave hunting parties in his honour. The house most frequented by Rupert was that of Graf Kevenheller, who, oddly enough, had been one of Frederick's bitterest foes. Yet Frederick's son found this Graf's house "a most pleasant place," at which he was always "very generously entertained."[[25]] And Rupert, on his part, seems to have made himself exceedingly popular with his friendly foes. He was, as they said, "beloved by all,"[[26]] and, wrote an Imperialist soldier, "his behaviour so obligeth the cavaliers of this country that they wait upon him and serve him as if they were his subjects."[[27]] As pleasant a captivity as could be had was Rupert's now, but yet a captivity; and still, in spite of Susanne von Kuffstein, in spite of the Archduke and of "all the cavaliers of the country," his thoughts turned wistfully to the Hague, where, for him, was home.
[[1]] Lansdowne MSS. 817. fol. 157-168.