Rupert, Prince Palatine

by Eva Scott

The appointment to Wales having been carried by his allies, Rupert was brought into very close connection with Ormonde. To Ireland the King looked for supplies of arms, ammunition, and of soldiers, as a counterpoise to the invasion of the Scots. The transport of these stores and troops was now regarded as part of Rupert's business in his new Government. He was willing enough to attend to the matter, for he was "mightily in love" with his Irish soldiers;[[6]] and, thanks to Ormonde's good sense and unswerving loyalty, a good understanding was preserved between himself and the Prince. Efforts to poison Ormonde's mind against Rupert were not wanting on the part of Digby. He did his best to make the Irish Lord Lieutenant think himself slighted by Rupert's preferment. "But let me withal assure you that I knew not of it till it was done," he wrote, "I being not so happy as to have any part in His Highness's Counsels."[[7]] To which the incorruptible Ormonde replied only, that he held himself in no way injured, and regarded the appointment as very fittingly bestowed on the Prince. Nor did Digby's new ally, Daniel O'Neil, meet with any better success. The Irish soldier of fortune had now quarrelled with Rupert, and thrown in his lot with that of the Secretary. Early in 1644 he was despatched to Ireland by Digby, in order to arrange various matters and, incidentally, to do Rupert as much harm as he could. But though introduced to Ormonde as Digby's "special, dear and intimate friend,"[[8]] he gained little credence. "I easily believe that Daniel O'Neil was willing I should be Lord Lieutenant; and perhaps he will unwish it again,"[[9]] said Ormonde calmly. No doubt Rupert owed much to the good sense and diligence of Trevor, who was himself a staunch adherent of Ormonde, and honoured by him with the title of "my friend." He seems to have been a clever man, of ready wit and unfailing energy, and he needed it all in his service of the Prince.

Rupert's new appointment involved the keeping up of an establishment at Shrewsbury, which he seldom occupied, but which added greatly to his expenses, and his personal labours were also multiplied. He had reached Shrewsbury on February 19th, having spent a week at Worcester and four days at Bridgnorth by the way. On March 4th he was "marching all night" to Drayton; on the 5th he was skirmishing with Fairfax; on the 6th he was "home" again; but only to resume his wanderings four days later.[[10]] He made it his business to visit every garrison under his charge, and his rapid movements were observed with pride by the Cavaliers. "In the morning in Leicestershire, in the afternoon in Lancashire, and the same day at supper time at Shrewsbury; without question he hath a flying army," reported the News-letters with cheerful exaggeration.[[11]] Certainly the Prince never spared himself, and he expected that others should show an equal energy and attention to business. Good officers, with other qualifications than mere social rank, he would have; and he allowed no private considerations to interfere with the public necessities. His vigorous decision did indeed bear hard on individual cases, as when he offered an unfortunate Herefordshire gentleman three alternatives,—to man and defend his house himself, to have it occupied by a governor and garrison of the Prince's own choosing, or to blow it up. But, if war is to be effective, such hardships are inevitable; and by Rupert's zealous activity garrisons were wrested from the enemy, and those of the King established, all over the district, in their stead. Of course the complaints which were daily delivered to the Prince were multiplied by his promotion; but, amidst all his labours, he seems to have found a little leisure, for he begged of Ormonde "a cast of goshawks," for his amusement in his winter quarters.[[12]]

In the meantime his agent at Oxford enjoyed no easy task. For everything that Rupert wanted Trevor had to contend vehemently with Percy and Ashburnham, and, had he not been clever enough to win the alliance of Jermyn, his success would have been small indeed. Jermyn exerted himself nobly. He collected evidence of Rupert's strength and necessities to lay before the Oxford Parliament. He supplied a consignment of muskets, pistols, and powder at his own expense;[[13]] he even combated the obstinacy of the King, though not always with success, as on one occasion he was forced to despatch supplies to Worcester, "where the King sayeth they are to go, and would have it so, in spite of everything that could be said to the contrary; though I did conceive it was your Highness's desire that they should be sent to Shrewsbury."[[14]]

Yet even Jermyn was occasionally disheartened by the Prince's insatiable wants. "His Majesty," wrote Trevor in February, "was very well pleased at your letter, and so was my Lord Jermyn, until he found your wants of arms, and ammunition. At which, after a deep sigh, he told me; 'This is of more trouble to me than it would be pain to me at parting of my flesh and bones.'" This despondency is partially accounted for by the next sentence; "The petards I cannot now send Your Highness, by reason of a strong quarrel that is fallen out between M. La Roche and Lord Percy, whose warrant and orders he absolutely denies to obey. Where it will end I know not. It begins in fire."[[15]] This state of affairs must have lasted for weeks. Not until April did Trevor wring two petards from Lord Percy, "and now I have got them, I do not, for my life, know how to send them to your quarters," he declared. And La Roche seems to have been, even then, in the same impracticable frame of mind: "Your Highness's letters to M. La Roche I did deliver; and when he had sworn and stared very sufficiently, and concluded every point with, 'Noe money! noe money!'—he carried me to his little house by Magdalen, and when he had swaggered there a pretty time, and knocked one strange thing against another, he told me he would send me letters, wherewith I was well satisfied, not having money for him, without which I see he hath no more motion than a stone. He talks much of Captain Faussett, but whether good, bad, or indifferent, I swear I do not know!"[[16]]

Such were the contentions that delayed and handicapped the Royalist forces; but Arthur Trevor was not to be discouraged. "Until I have all the affairs, both of peace and war, settled as they may be most to your desires, I will not miss His Majesty an interview every morning in the garden,"[[17]] he protested; and, on a later occasion, he declared: "I am not so ill a courtier, in a request of money, as to sit down with one denial."[[18]] His difficulties were increased by the carelessness of Rupert himself, and he wrote to the Prince reproachfully: "I find a bill of exchange signed by Your Highness, and denied by the party you charged it on, and grown to be the discourse of the town before ever I heard a syllable of it. Truly the giving out that bill without giving me advice of it, that I might have got the money ready, or an excuse for time, hath not done Your Highness right here."[[19]] Two days later he wrote again: "The liveries for your servants are now come. I only wait for your orders how I shall carry myself towards the merchants, who are very solicitous for ready pay. The sum will be about £200. If Your Highness will not have His Majesty moved in it, Lord Jermyn and I will try all the town, but we will do the worth."[[20]] Rupert's answer is not forthcoming, but he was evidently as anxious as usual to pay this, or other debts, for he commissioned Trevor to represent to the King the "injustice" that the delay of money was doing towards men to whom he was indebted, and whom he would willingly satisfy.[[21]]

The needs of the North were becoming very pressing. Newcastle constantly represented the smallness of his forces, and the danger threatening from the Scots. Sir Charles Lucas also forwarded a melancholy account of the northern army, and Lord Derby implored Rupert to go to the rescue of his Countess who was valiantly defending Lathom House: "Sir, I have received many advertisements from my wife, of her great distress and imminent danger," he wrote, "unless she be relieved by your Highness, on whom she doth rely more than on any other whatsoever... I would have waited on your Highness this time, but that I hourly receive little letters from her who haply, a few days hence, may never write me more."[[22]] But greatest of all was the danger of Newark, besieged by Meldrum, Hubbard and Lord Willoughby. Already the brave little garrison was almost starved into surrender, and willingly would the men have sacrificed their lives in one desperate sally, but for the women and children who would thus have been left to the mercy of the foe. Rupert resolved to go first to the relief of Newark. But even Arthur Trevor could not obtain the supplies necessary for the exploit: "I can promise nothing towards your advantage in those supporters of war, money and arms..." he said. "Money, I am out of hopes of, unless some notable success open the purse strings ... March, and then I will make my last attempt for that business, and if I fail I will raise my siege, burn my hut, and march away to your Highness."[[23]]

Newark was in the last straits. To the reiterated summons of the Puritan forces, the valiant garrison replied only that they could starve, and they could die, but one thing they could not do, and that was open their gates to rebels. Rupert would delay no longer, and, in accordance with Trevor's advice, he set forth, on March 13th, with a small force, borrowed from the garrisons he passed on the march. Essex at once despatched a force of cavalry in pursuit, of which Ashburnham advertised the Prince in the following concise note: "The strength that followeth your Highness is nine hundred dragoons, and one regiment of horse, which I hope they will all be damned."[[24]] By March 20th Rupert was at Bingham, twelve miles from Newark. The besiegers, who numbered some 2,500 horse and 5,000 foot, heard the news of his approach with light-hearted incredulity, being unable to believe that he could have the temerity to attack them; and in an intercepted letter the Prince found mention of "an incredible rumour" of his advance.[[25]] When within six miles of Newark he contrived to let the garrison know of his vicinity. Fearing that his cipher had fallen into the hands of the enemy, he dared not write, but sent only an ambiguous message, the meaning of which he did not even explain to the messenger: "Let the old drum be beaten, early on the morrow morning." Happily the Governor, Sir John Henderson, was quick to grasp the meaning—namely, that he was to sally out on Meldrum at day-break.[[26]] By two o'clock in the morning, Rupert was in the saddle, and ere it was light, he charged down upon the besieging army. Surprised and confused, the besiegers broke their ranks, and at the same moment the garrison sallied. The fight was hot, and once at least Rupert was in imminent danger. He found himself assaulted by "three sturdy Roundheads" all at once; one he slew with his own sword; Mortaigne, a French follower of the Prince, shot another, and the third, who had laid hold of Rupert's collar, had his hand cut off by O'Neil. The Prince was thus "disengaged, with only a shot in his gauntlet."[[27]] The engagement lasted nearly all day, but at dusk, Charles Gerard, who had been wounded and captured, came limping forth from the enemy's trenches, with offers of treaty. Rupert agreed to terms, and, on the following morning, Meldrum and his colleagues were permitted to raise the siege and march off with the honours of war.

These terms Rupert was accused of having broken. His men were eager to avenge a Puritan outrage at Lincoln, as formerly at Bristol they had remembered Reading. Therefore when Meldrum's forces marched off with "more than was conditioned," in the shape of arms and pikes, the Royalists seized the excuse to fall upon them, and, in their turn, snatched away colours, and "more than the articles warranted." Rupert, as before, dashed amongst his men with his drawn sword, and he did not neglect to return the stolen colours, with apologies. The occurrence is described by Mrs. Hutchinson, but more fairly by Rushworth, who adds, after relating how the Puritans were despoiled of their pikes and colours: "the King's party excused it, by alleging that they (the Puritans) attempted to carry out more than was conditioned, and that some of theirs had been so used at Lincoln, and especially that it was against the Prince's mind, who slashed some of his soldiers for it, and sent back all the colours they had taken."[[28]] When the enemy had fairly retired, Rupert made his entry into Newark, where he was received with delirious joy. Davenant, the Cavalier poet, who himself served in the northern army, celebrated the whole story in a long poem, and thus he describes the Prince's entrance:

"As he entered the old gates, one cry of triumph rose,
To bless and welcome him who had saved them from their foes;
The women kiss his charger, and the little children sing:
'Prince Rupert's brought us bread to eat, from God and from the King.'"[[29]]

Considering the small force with which it had been effected, Rupert's exploit was indeed wonderful, and congratulations poured in from all quarters. "Nephew," wrote the King, "I assure you that this, as all your victories, gives me as much contentment in that I owe you the thanks, as for the importance of it; which in this particular, believe me, is no less than the saving of all the North."[[30]]