The Prince of Wales had by this time been sent to Bristol as nominal General of the Western army, with a selection of the King's Councillors to assist him. The conflicting Borders of Rupert, Prince Charles's Council, and the King, gave Goring an excellent excuse for disobeying all. In March, Rupert indignantly desired Legge to ask the King whether he had authorised that Council to send orders to Goring, and added cautiously, "Let Sir Edward Herbert be by, he can argue better than you."[[15]] A few days later he visited his young cousin at Bristol, and advised him to send Goring with his horse into Wiltshire, or with his foot to besiege Taunton. Prince Charles sent orders as directed, but Goring, knowing them to emanate from Rupert, retired to Bath, and refused to do anything at all. Rupert now thoroughly "abhorred" the notion of Goring's proximity to the Prince of Wales, and had him recalled to Oxford. But there his friendship with Digby, and his own natural powers, won him so much influence with the King, that Rupert was soon as eager to send him back into the West as Goring was to escape from the Prince's vicinity. Thus their "very contrary affections towards each other,"[[16]] worked to one end. There was a second truce. Rupert told Goring, no doubt with some pleasure, all the evil that the Council of the West had said concerning him; and Goring returned the compliment, with notes and additions. Goring was given the command of all the West, whither he gladly departed. "Goring and Prince Rupert are now friends," wrote Trevor, "but I doubt the building being made of green wood, which is apt to warp and yield!"[[17]] As proved ere long to be the case.
We return now to the autumn of 1644. Rupert's wanderings had brought him, by the end of August, to Bristol, whither he was pursued by doleful reports from his officers left in the Marches.
"My most dear Prince," wrote Legge from Chester, "in truth Your Highness's departure sent me back here a sad man, and the news I met with gave me new cause of trouble.... I despair of any good in Lancashire."[[18]] And in Cheshire itself, Byron and Langdale had just suffered a defeat from Massey. "Upon the spot where Your Highness killed the buck, as the horse were drawing out,"[[19]] explained Byron with careful exactness. These new misfortunes increased Rupert's melancholy, which was already deep enough. Something of his state of mind may be gathered from a sympathetic and consolatory letter written to him at this time by Richmond.
"Though I was very much pleased for myself with the honour and favour I had by yours from Bristol, yet I must confess, it takes not all unquietness from me. The melancholy you express must be a discontent, for my mind which has so much respect must partake of the trouble of yours. And I should be more restless if I did believe your present sad opinion would be long continued, or that there were just cause for it. All mistakes, I am confident, will wane, when the King can speak with power! I shall not prejudice that éclairissement by being tedious beforehand. Yet I will say that, though an intention (to that purpose) was not the cause of your coming sooner to the King, you could not have resolved better by the King's good at this time. So in your own understanding you must consent that even from those actions which are the most retired from an appearance (of it) blessings spring. How great this will be when Rupert makes it his care, as formerly our hope, measure by joy (sic). This I conclude doth certainly engage Rupert to know how great good he may bring the King, which must also assure Rupert of the love, value, and trust the King must have of him. This mutual satisfaction will prove happy to themselves, and to all who respect either, as I do both!"[[20]] The Duke's friendly attempt to console the Prince for past misfortunes, restore his self-confidence, and reassure him of the King's trust and affection seems to have succeeded. Rupert roused himself, and set out, September 29th, to meet the King at Sherborne in Dorset. Charles was just then returning from his successful expedition to Cornwall, and Waller had been despatched by the Parliament to intercept him. Rupert extracted from his uncle a promise not to fight until he could rejoin him, and hastened back to fortify Bristol. But the perilous condition of two Royalist garrisons, those of Basing House, and Donnington Castle, made delay impossible. The King sent peremptory orders to Rupert to join him at Salisbury with all the force he could muster. But, before Rupert could obey, Goring, "possessed by a great gaiety,"[[21]] had drawn Charles into the second unfortunate battle of Newbury. Rupert, making all possible haste, reached Marshfield near Bristol, the day after the battle, October 28th. There he learnt that the King had been defeated at Newbury, and was now at Bath. Maurice, it was feared, was dead or a prisoner. Upon this, Rupert asserted, oddly as it seems, that his brother was quite safe; and so it proved, for he was discovered at Donnington Castle.[[22]] Both Princes joined the King at Bath, and thence, by Rupert's advice, marched to Oxford. At Newbury they again encountered Waller and Cromwell, but refused battle, and Rupert succeeded in drawing off his forces without losing one man. The dexterous retreat was compared by one of the young nobles to a country dance.[[23]] On November 21st Rupert made a vain attempt to recover Abingdon, which was now possessed for the Parliament; and on the 23rd he entered Oxford with the King.
During the march, the Prince had finally received that appointment of Master of the Horse concerning which he had entertained so many doubts. At the same time he was declared Commander-in-Chief in place of the old Lord Brentford, who had become very deaf, and who "by the long-continued practice of immoderate drinking, dozed in his understanding."[[24]] The change was exceedingly popular with the soldiers, but exceedingly distasteful to the courtiers and councillors. Brentford had always been willing to permit discussion, only feigning unusual deafness when he was strongly averse to the proposals made. But Rupert showed himself "rough and passionate,"[[25]] cut short debate whenever possible, and endeavoured to carry all with a high hand. In addition to the promotion already conferred on him, he had expected the colonelcy of the Life-Guards, and when this was bestowed on Lord Bernard Stewart, the Prince felt himself so unreasonably injured "that he was resolved to lay down his command upon it."[[26]] He did in fact go the length of demanding a pass to quit the kingdom, but happily the persuasions of his friends brought him to a wiser state of mind, and he apologised for his folly. Another fruitless attempt on Abingdon closed the military proceedings of the year.
The chief events of the winter months were the Treaty of Uxbridge, and the forming of the Parliament's new model army. The negotiation of January 1645 was due to Scottish influence, and though many of the Royalists were eager to come to terms, the religious question proved, as always, an insuperable obstacle. Moreover, it was quite impossible for Charles to accept the long list of excepted persons "who shall expect no pardon," which was headed by the names of his own nephews. The Princes themselves appear to have been infinitely amused by the circumstance, for it is recorded by Whitelocke, himself one of the Parliamentary Commissioners: "Prince Rupert and Prince Maurice being present, when their names were read out as excepted persons, they fell into a laughter, at which the King seemed displeased, and bid them be quiet."[[27]]
In spite of this incident, Rupert forwarded the treaty by all means in his power. He had been one of the first to meet the Commissioners on their arrival. They had gone, on the same day, to visit Lord Lindsey, and ten minutes after their entrance Rupert had put in an appearance, privately summoned by their host, as the Commissioners suspected. He had been present at all the discussions of the treaty, occasionally speaking to remind the King of some forgotten point, but otherwise keeping silence;[[28]] and when the treaty ultimately collapsed, the Prince "deeply deplored" its failure. He understood only too well the weakness of the King's resources, and the growing strength of the Parliament. The new model army, from which all incompetent officers were excluded, and which was to resemble in strength and discipline, Cromwell's own "lovely Company" was rapidly being developed. And as the power of the Parliament waxed, that of the King waned. Goring, brilliant, careless, valiant, and self-indulgent was losing the West by his negligence, and alienating it by his oppressions. Nor were matters much better elsewhere. Maurice had succeeded his brother in the care of Wales and the Marches, though without his title of President. His advent had been eagerly welcomed by the despondent Byron, but he was incompetent to deal with the difficulties that beset him. From Worcester, where he was established, he sent helpless appeals to Rupert for advice and assistance. In January he demanded an enlargement of his commission. "I desire no further latitude than the same from you that you had from the King,"[[29]] he told his brother discontentedly. He had promised a commission to the gentlemen of Staffordshire, which he had not the power to grant them, "though I would not let them know as much," he confessed, with youthful vanity.[[30]] Very shortly a serious misfortune befell him in the betrayal of Shrewsbury to the Parliament.—"A disaffected town with only a garrison of burghers, and a doting old fool of a Governor,"[[31]] it had been called by Byron, whose language was usually forcible.—And Maurice's difficulties were further increased by the wholesale desertion of his men.
The exhaustion of the country was making it harder than ever to find food and quarters for the soldiers. In Dorsetshire the peasants were already rising, under the name of "Clubmen," to oppose the encroachments of both armies. And the Royalist officers disputed among themselves over the supplies wrung from the impoverished country. From Camden, Colonel Howard simply returned Rupert's order to share his district with another regiment, "resolving to keep nothing by me that shall hang me," he explained; and he went on to assert that even his rival colonel "blushed to see the unreasonableness" of the Prince's order. "What horrid crime have I committed, or what brand of cowardice lies upon me and my men that we are not thought worthy of a subsistence? Shall the Queen's seventy horse have Westmester hundred, Tewkesbury hundred, and God knows what other hundreds, and yet share half with me in Rifsgate, who has, at this very present, a hundred horse and five hundred foot, besides a multiplicity of officers? Sir, at my first coming hither, the gentry of these parts looked upon me as a man considerable, and had already raised me sixty horse towards a hundred, and a hundred foot, and were continuing to raise me a greater number. But at the sight of this order of your Highness I resolved to disband them, and to come to Oxford where I'll starve in more security. But finding my Lieutenant-Colonel forced to come to your Highness and to tell his sad condition, I find him so well prepared with sadness of his own, that I cannot but think he will deliver my grievances rarely. As I shall find myself encouraged by your Highness, I will go on and raise more forces. Ever submitting all my proceedings to your Highness's orders—bar starving, since I am resolved to live."[[32]]
Not more cheering was the report of Sir Jacob Astley, then at Cirencester. "After manie Scolisietationes by letters and mesendgeres, sent for better payment of this garrison, and to be provided with men, arms and ammonition for ye good orderinge and defence of this place, I have received no comfort at all. So y^t in littel time our extreameties must thruste the souldieres eyther to disband, or mutiny, or plunder, and then y^e faulte will be laid to my charge. Gode sende y^e Kinge mor monne, and me free from blame and imputation."[[33]] Rupert had little comfort to give, and no money at all, but he answered the old soldier with the respect and consideration which he always showed him. In earlier days old Astley had been Governor to Rupert and Maurice, and to him they probably owed much that was good in them. Rupert, in consequence, never treated Astley in the peremptory fashion that he used with others. "For such precise orders as you seem to desire, I must deal freely with you, you are not to expect them," he wrote to his old Governor; "we being not such fit judges as you upon the place... I should be very loath, by misjudging here, to direct that which you should find inconvenient there."[[34]]
Such phrases contrast strongly with the Prince's usual high-handed procedure, of which we find the King himself complaining at this very time. "Indeed it surprised me a little this morning," he wrote to his nephew, "when Adjutant Skrimshaw told me that you had given him a commission to be Governor of Lichfield without ever advising with me, or even giving me notice of it;—for he told me as news, and not by your command. I know this proceeds merely out of a hasty forgetfulness and want of a little thinking, for if you had called to mind the late dispute between the Lord Loughborough and Bagot, that is dead, you would have advised more than you have done, both of the person, and the manner of doing it; and then, it may be, you would have thought George Lisle fitter for it than him you have chosen. Upon my word I have taken notice of this to none but this bearer, with whom I have spoken reasonable freely, by which you may perceive that this is freedom and nothing else, that makes me write thus, expecting the same from you to your loving Oncle."[[35]] Whether Rupert did or did not resent the reproof does not appear, but the King proved right, and Skrimshaw quarrelled with Loughborough no less than Bagot had done.