"Our sense of it here is as much beyond expression as the action itself,"[[31]] declared Digby. Trevor offered all the appreciation possible "On this side idolatry," an expression of which he was rather fond; and even the quiet Richmond was roused to enthusiasm: "Give me leave to dilate now upon my particular joyes," he wrote, "and to retire them so farre from the present jubilee all men are in at your last great victory, to beginne with that which before this jubilee was one to me; I mean the honor and contentment I lately received from you, which, if valew can make precious and an intent affection do anything to show an acknowledgment, will not be lost. Your command to pray for you, at a time was then to come, shall be, as before, my general rule."[[32]] Lord Newcastle added to his extravagant congratulations an entreaty that Rupert would push on to his aid; "without which that great game of your uncle's will be endangered, if not lost..., Could Your Highness march this way, it would, I hope, put a final end to all our troubles."[[33]] But Rupert, with the best will in the world, lacked the power to do as Newcastle desired. With an army at his back, he might indeed have pushed on northwards, conquered the eastern counties, and driven back the Scots; but he had no army at his disposal! Brilliant though his recent achievement had seemed, it was but ephemeral in reality. Newark relieved, the men who had relieved it returned to the garrisons whence they came, and from which they could ill be spared. All that Rupert had gained was the preservation of a loyal town, and the surrender of a few scattered outposts which he had not men to garrison. Reluctantly he turned back to Wales, where he hoped he might yet raise a force to save the North.
During the weeks of recruiting which followed the relief of Newark, the usual disputes and jealousies agitated the Court. Jermyn, who was still Rupert's friend, expected shortly to quit Oxford with the Queen, and would fain have reconciled the Prince to Digby before his departure. "He has written several times to you since you went away, and you have not made him one answer," he protested. And he proceeded to explain, at great length, how advantageous a correspondence with Digby would be, and how exaggerated were the Prince's notions of the Secretary's hatred to him.[[34]] But such representations made no impression upon Rupert; the question really at stake was whether he or Digby should rule the King's counsels, and no compromise was possible between them. Another suggestion of Jermyn's met with more favour; there was a vacancy in the King's Bedchamber, and only Rupert's nomination was needed to secure the appointment for his friend Will Legge. "The chief cause I write is to mention that to you which he (Legge) least looks after, viz., that which pertains to his own interests,"[[35]] said Jermyn. Rupert obtained the post for his friend, and wrote to "give him joy" of it.[[36]] At the same time the place of Master of the Horse was offered to himself; hitherto it had been held by the Marquess of Hamilton, who was now deprived of it on account of his disloyalty. "If the King offers Rupert the Master of the Horse's place, he will receive it as a favour," wrote Rupert, in reply to a question on the subject. "But he desires it may not be done so it may look as if Rupert had a hand in the ruin of my Lord Marquis. Let every one carry his own burden."[[37]]
Ere long, a hasty recall to Oxford roused all the Prince's indignation. True, the order was revoked next day, but Rupert was none the less furious. How was he to effect anything of importance if his plans were to be interrupted and frustrated at Digby's whim? He would not endure, he wrote to Richmond, the discussion of all his proceedings by a mere civilian Council. The Duke strove to pacify him in a long and, as usual, incoherent letter. "You may perceive that no Oxford motion, if rightly represented, could move any cause of jealousy of a desseigne here either to forestall your judgement or prelimett yr command. I have bine present at most of the consultations; (till yesterday some occasions made me absent, and of that daies' worke my Lord Biron will give the best account); and in all I could ever discerne the proceeding hath bine to propound only by way of question alle thinges of moment, which were to be attended, or acted, by you." The recent recall to Oxford Richmond owned an exception to this rule, but as regarded other matters, he concluded; "I think I could not have mist myselfe so much if other had been to be seen, or where the King's service, and my ancient respect for Rupert, (which time works no such earthy effects upon as to decay), call for my observation, that my senses could be deceived, or I not attentive. The most that was treated was when Will Legge was here, and in his presence, who certainly is a safe man to consult with in your interests. And the furthest discourse was but discourse!"[[38]] The King also wrote on the same day, promising that, whenever possible, his nephew should be consulted rather than commanded; and asserting with gentle dignity, "Indeed I have this advantage of you, that I have not yet mistaken you in anything as you have me."[[39]]
Whatever effect these soothing epistles might have had was nullified by a second letter from Digby, in which he assumed a tone of authority such as Rupert would not brook. "Lord Digby, with whom Prince Rupert hath no present kindness, writ yesterday about the relief of Lathom House," wrote Trevor to Ormonde. "The paper, which was not an order, but would fain have disputed itself into authority, was so ill-received that I am afraid my work of reconciliation is at an end."[[40]] Rupert was indeed in an angry frame of mind. He despatched a furious, incoherent letter to Legge, full of ironical and rather unintelligible complaints against his uncle, and dark threats of his own resignation. "If the King will follow the wise counsel, and not hear the soldier and Rupert, Rupert must leave off all." And he wound up with a short account of a successful skirmish, adding spitefully: "If Goring had done this you would have had a handsome story."[[41]] None of the plans then in favour at Oxford met with his approval. The Queen was bent on going to Exeter, in spite of her nephew's assurance that the place was most unsafe, as indeed it proved; and the King was extremely anxious to send the Prince of Wales to Bristol, as nominal head of the army in the West. But Rupert had not much faith in Maurice's army, and he thought that the young Prince would be far better under his own care. He had at that time a paramount influence over little Charles, and he had, besides, a staunch ally in one of his young cousin's gentlemen, a certain Elliot, whom the King considered to have "too much credit"[[42]] with his son. Between them, Prince Charles was inspired with such an aversion to his father's plan that he boldly declared he would have none of it, and added ingenuously, that his Cousin Rupert had "left him his lesson" before his departure from Oxford.[[43]] His submission to Rupert's will is evidenced by the letters of Elliot to the Prince: "He has commanded me to tell you that he is so far from believing that any man can love him better than you do, that he shall, by his good will, enterprise nothing wherein he has not your Highness's approbation. For the intention of carrying him to that army, (in the West,) he has yet heard nothing of it, and, if he shall, he will without fail oppose it; and I may say truely that if he has a great kindness for any man it is for your Highness."[[44]] For the moment Rupert triumphed. Richmond, who opposed the plan for the West as strongly as the Prince could have wished, assured him that it was "but a dream,"[[45]] and for a while it fell into abeyance.
In the beginning of May, Rupert's new levies were ready for action, but when the moment for the northern march had come, the Prince was, to his intense disgust, once more summoned to Oxford. So earnestly did he deprecate the recall, that the King declared he would be content with 2,000 foot and one regiment of horse, provided that Rupert would join him at Oxford in the beginning of June. But the one demand was as fatal as the other. Rupert's heart was set on the relief of Lord Newcastle, and he could not bear that his hard won army should be thus ruthlessly torn from him. A personal interview with the King was his only chance, and, with characteristic rashness, he marched off to Oxford with the most slender of escorts, to plead his cause with his uncle. Eloquently he explained to the King the simplicity of his plans. All that Charles himself had to do was to keep the surrounding towns well garrisoned, to manoeuvre round Oxford with a body of horse, and, in the meantime, to leave Maurice free in the West, and Rupert free for the North. On May 5th the Prince left Oxford, having every reason to believe that his advice would be followed. But, on the very next day, Digby had persuaded the King to abandon the plan as too extensive; Rupert wrote to expostulate, but received only thanks for his "freedom," with the comment, "I am not of your opinion in all the particulars."[[46]] And when misfortune had ensued, it was but slight consolation that the King acknowledged his error, "I believe that if you had been with me I had not been put to those straits I am in now. I confess the best had been to have followed your advice."[[47]] Richmond also lamented Rupert's absence. "We want money, men, conduct, provisions, time, and good counsel," he asserted; "our hope rests chiefly in your good success."[[48]]
Rupert was by that time far away in the North. On May 8th he had returned to Shrewsbury, and on the 16th he began his long projected march to York. From Chester he drew out all the men who could be spared, leaving "honest Will Legge" in their place. At Knutsford he had a successful encounter with some Parliamentary troops; and on the 25th he seized upon Stockport, which so alarmed the forces besieging Lathom House, that they raised the siege, and marched off to Bolton. So strong was the Puritanism of Bolton that it has been called the "Geneva of England," and Rupert at once resolved to take the town. His first assault was repulsed, and the besieged, in their triumph, hanged one of his Irish troopers over the walls. The insult gave the Prince new stimulus; throwing himself from his horse he called up his retreating men, and renewed the attack with such vigour that the town was quickly stormed, and he entered it with Lord Derby at his side. The angry troopers sacked the place; and Rupert sent the twenty-two standards he had taken to Lady Derby, as a graceful acknowledgment of her long and valiant defence of Lathom. Recruits now flocked to his standard, and his march became a triumphal progress; so great was the enthusiasm of the loyal town of Wigan, that rushes, flowers and boughs were strewn in the streets before him. On June 11th he won another triumph, in the capture of Liverpool, which suffered a like fate with Bolton. But he was disappointed of the stores he had expected to find there, which were all carried off by sea before the town fell. From Liverpool the Prince wrote a curious letter to the Bishop of Chester, asking for a collection to be made in all the churches of the diocese for the benefit of the sick and wounded soldiers. And he also expressed a desire that the clergy should exhort the people to prepare for their own defence and to maintain their loyalty, in language "most intelligent to the congregation."[[49]]
It was now high time to set out for York, which Newcastle felt that he could hold only six days more. Richmond wrote to urge as much haste as possible. "If York should be lost," he said, "it would prove the greatest blow which could come from those parts, Rupert being safe; but what is fit to be done you will best know and judge."[[50]] But Rupert was not just then in a state of mind to judge calmly of anything. His enemies at Court, envious of his recent success, were preparing new calumnies against him, and profiting by his absence to excite the King's distrust. Some did not hesitate to hint at the Prince's over-greatness and possible designs on the Crown itself; and all urged the King to recall him, rather than suffer him to risk his army in a great battle. Trevor thus reported the affair to Ormonde: "Prince Rupert, by letters from Court, understands that the King grows daily more and more jealous of him, and of his army; so that it is the commonest discourse at the openest places, of the Lord Digby, Lord Percy, Sir John Culpepper, and Wilmot, that it is indifferent whether the Parliament or Prince Rupert doth prevail. Which doth so highly jesuite (sic) Prince Rupert that he was resolved once to send the King his commission and get to France. This fury interrupted the march ten days. But at length, time and a friend, the best coolers of the blood, spent the humour of travel in him, though not that of revenge.... This quarrel hath a strong reserve, and I am fearful that a little ill-success will send my new master home into Holland. I perceive the tide's strong against him, and that nothing will bring him to port but that wind which is called contra gentes."[[51]] And, about the same time, Ormonde was informed by another correspondent, that "Prince Rupert professeth against Lord Digby, Percy, Wilmot and some others. Some think that he will remove them from the King. The fear of this may do harm; perhaps had done already."[[52]] The ten days' delay was spent chiefly at Lathom House, and by June 22nd, Rupert had sufficiently recovered his temper to set out for York. Some days previously Goring had written that he was ready to join the Prince with 8,000 horse, and only awaited the appointment of a meeting-place. The King, at the same time, demanded Goring's instant return to himself, but Rupert took no notice of the order, being convinced, and rightly as it happened, that Goring's services were more necessary to himself. He joined Goring on the borders of Lancashire and Yorkshire. On the 26th he halted at Skipton, to "fix his armes,"[[53]] and to send a message to York. On the 29th he quartered at Denton, the house of the Puritan General, Lord Fairfax. Two of the Fairfaxes had fallen years ago, in the fight for the Palatinate, and Rupert, having noticed their portraits, preserved the house uninjured for their sakes. "Such force hath gratitude in noble minds,"[[54]] comments the Fairfax who tells the story. Lord Fairfax and his son were both engaged at the siege of York, together with Lord Manchester, and the Scotch General, Leven; but there was no good intelligence between the Parliamentary commanders, and they dared not await the onslaught of the Prince. "Their Goliah himself is advancing, with men not to be numbered,"[[55]] was the report among the Puritans; and when Rupert reached Knaresborough on June 30th, only twelve miles distant from York, the Generals of the Parliament raised the siege and marched off to Marston Moor. They hoped to bar Rupert's passage to the city, but by skilful manoeuvring he crossed the Ouse, and halted outside York. "Prince Rupert had done a glorious piece of work," wrote a soldier of the Parliament. "From nothing he had gathered, without money, a powerful army, and, in spite of all our three generals, had made us leave York."[[56]] So far all was well, and well for Rupert had he left things thus! But, alas, he was about to make his first great mistake, and to take a decided step on his downward career.
The blame of the disastrous battle of Marston Moor has always been laid upon Rupert, but his friends were wont to ascribe it rather to Lord Digby, who, they believed, had inspired the King's "fatal" letter of June 14th; a letter which Rupert carried about him to his dying day, though he never produced it in refutation of any of the charges against him. "Had not the Lord Digby, this year, given a fatal direction to that excellent Prince Rupert to fight the Scottish army, surely that great Prince and soldier had never so precipitately fought them,"[[57]] declared Sir Philip Warwick, who was himself present at the battle. The King began his letter with apologies for sending such "peremptory commands," but went on to explain: "If York be lost I shall esteem my crown little less.... But if York be relieved, and you beat the rebels' army of both Kingdoms, which are before it, then, but otherwise not, I may possibly make a shift, upon the defensive, to spin out time until you come to assist me."[[58]] The order was plain, and though Rupert did sometimes ignore less congenial commands, he could scarcely disobey such an order as this, unless he had private information that his uncle's situation was less desperate than he had represented it. Culpepper, at least, never doubted what would be the Prince's action: "Before God you are undone!" he cried, when told that the letter was sent—"For upon this peremptory order he will fight, whatever comes on't!"[[59]]
And Culpepper was right. Rupert greeted Newcastle with the words, "My Lord, I hope we shall have a glorious day!" And when Newcastle advised him to wait patiently, until the internal dissensions of the enemy broke up their camp, he retorted, "Nothing venture, nothing have!" and declared that he had "a positive and absolute command to fight the enemy."[[60]] He showed plainly that he had no intention of listening to the Marquess, at whose cost the whole northern army had been raised and maintained. The older man was silenced, vexed at his subordination to the young Prince whom he had so eagerly called to his aid, and hurt and offended by Rupert's abrupt manners. But, as Professor Gardiner has pointed out, Newcastle's achievements were not such as could inspire great respect in the soldier prince.[[61]] He was but a dilettante in war as in the gentler arts, and his reasoning was not, on the face of it, very convincing. His manoeuvres might fail; and Rupert, who had not yet met Cromwell's horse, had no reason to suppose that his charge would be less effective now than in time past. As for the Parliamentary forces, their only hope lay in battle, and they gladly perceived the Prince's intention to fight.