With deep reluctance Nicholas obeyed orders; and both Legge and Rupert behaved themselves with quiet dignity. "According to your commands, I went immediately to the Lord Treasurer," wrote Nicholas to the King. "We thought fit to send for Colonel Legge thither, who willingly submitted himself prisoner to your commands. This being despatched, I went to Colonel Legge's house, where Prince Rupert dined, and desiring to speak with him privately in the withdrawing room, I presented to him first his discharge, and then after that your letter; to which he humbly submitted himself, telling me that he was very innocent of anything that might deserve so heavy a punishment.... Your Majesty will herewith receive a letter from Prince Rupert, who will, I believe, stay here, until he hears again from you, for that he cannot without leave from the rebels go to embark himself, and without Your Majesty's license, I hear, he will not demand a pass from the rebels."[[22]]
Rupert's letter consisted of a grave and calm protest, and a demand for a personal interview with his uncle. "I only say that if Your Majesty had vouchsafed to hear me inform you, before you had made a final judgment,—I will presume to present this much,—you would not have censured me, as it seems you do." His first duty was, he admitted, to give an explanation to the King, but, since the opportunity was denied him—"In the next place I owe myself that justice as to publish to the world what I think will clear my erring in all this business now in question from any foul deed, or neglect, and vindicate me from desert of any prevailing malice, though I suffer it. Your commands that I should dispose myself beyond seas be pleased to consider of, whether it be in my power, though you have sent me a pass, as times now are, to go by it."[[23]] In accordance with this statement he published a detailed account of the state of Bristol, and all that had passed there, and continued at Oxford, awaiting the King's pleasure. "I must not omit to acquaint Your Majesty," wrote the faithful Nicholas, "that I hear Prince Rupert hath not £50 in all the world, and is reduced to so great an extremity as he hath not wherewith to feed himself or his servants. I hear that Colonel Legge is in no more plentiful condition."[[24]]
The loss of Rupert's military experience was soon felt in the Royalist ranks; and would have been felt more severely had there been any serious undertaking on hand, or any army to execute it. As it was, when the first moment of panic was past and men could consider the question calmly, he appeared to have been hardly dealt with. To seriously suspect him of treachery was absurd; he was, in effect, the victim of Digby's malice; and the arrest of Legge, for no other crime than that of being the Prince's friend, favoured this view. Digby of course pretended that he could furnish proofs of Legge's contemplated treacheries, "as soon as I can come at my papers, which were left with Stanier, and all my other necessaries, at Worcester," and insisted that, so long as Rupert were in England, it would be unsafe to set his friend at liberty.[[25]] Equally, of course, no one—except the King—believed him; for Legge's loyalty and integrity were above suspicion. He was, says Clarendon, considered "above all temptations,"[[26]] and the indignation felt at this injustice greatly favoured the Prince's cause.
Digby had no mind to face "the fury of the storm"[[27]] which he had raised. Before Rupert could reach Oxford the Secretary had hurried the King away to Newark, a place which would be very difficult of access for the Prince. Personally, Charles had inclined to Worcester, but Digby would not hear of it. Not only was Worcester within easy distance from Oxford, but Maurice was Governor there; and Maurice had, as Digby knew, "a very tender sense of the severity his brother had undergone, and was ready to revenge it."[[28]]
The younger Prince was only just recovering from a second severe illness. As before, his recovery had been despaired of, and his death freely reported by friends and foes. "Maurice is very sick at Worcester of the plague; some say he is dead, and the malignants are very sorrowful at the news,"[[29]] said a Puritan pamphlet. While he was still too ill to take any active share in the dispute, the King had written to him, telling of Rupert's dismissal, but adding kindly: "I know you to be so free from his present misfortune that it noways staggers me in that good opinion I have ever had of you; and so long as you be not weary of your employment under me, I will give you all the encouragement and contentment in my power."[[30]] But Maurice was far too devoted a brother to be soothed by such words. Ill though he was, he made a copy of the King's letter in his own hand to send to Rupert, and by all possible means he showed "sensibility" of the injury done to his brother. Worcester was full of his partisans, and Digby knew better than to venture into his power. At Newark, the Secretary felt himself safe, and there he continued to inflame the King against his nephew. The task was not difficult. The King was shaken and despairing, and Digby had calumnies ready to his hand.
"It hath been the constant endeavours of the English nation—who are naturally prone to hate strangers—to seek, with false calumnies and scandalous accusations, to blast and blemish my integrity to my uncle and to his Royal family," declared Rupert himself, a few years later. "Neither hath the abuse laid on me by my uncle's pretended friends been sufficient, but the gross lies and forgeries of that rebel nest at Westminster have branded me with the worst of crimes that possible any man might be charged with.... The command which His Majesty had been graciously pleased to confer on me—as I shall answer at the day of judgment—I did improve to the best of my power, without any treachery, deceit, or dissimulation. And for my unfortunateness, I hope it was excusable, it being not only incident where I had command, but in all other places where my uncle had any power of soldiers; yet, notwithstanding, I was the butt at which envy shot its arrows, and all my uncle's losses were laid to my charge."[[31]] This was not an unfair statement of the case. It is the way of all nations and parties to blame some one for their misfortunes, and the foreign prince made a convenient scapegoat for the Royalists. The libels originated in the "rebel nest" were taken up and cherished by the foes of Rupert's own household. As early as February 1644, there had appeared a pamphlet which stated plainly that Rupert was aiming at the English Crown. He was not, it was suggested, "so far from the Crown, but, if once the course of law, and the power of the Parliament be extinguished, he may bid as fair for it, by the sword, as the King; having possessed himself of so much power already under colour of serving the King; and having, by his German manner of plundering, and active disposition in military affairs, won the hearts of so many soldiers of fortune, and men of prey. He is already their chieftain and their Prince, and he is like enough to be their King.... This whole war is managed by his skill, labour and industry; insomuch as, if the King command one thing and he another, the Prince must be preferred before the King. Witness Banbury, which was secured from plundering under the King's own hand; but that was slighted, and the town plundered by Prince Rupert vilifying the King's authority, and making it a fault of his unexpertness, saying, 'His Uncle knew not what belonged to war.' ... Neither shall Prince Rupert want abettors in his cursed design; for many of our debauched and low-fortuned young nobility and gentry, suiting so naturally with this new conqueror, will make no bones to shoulder out the old King."[[32]] Eagerly did Rupert's Royalist foes catch at the libel. We have already seen that, before Marston Moor, Digby, Percy and Wilmot ventured to assert openly that the victory of Prince or Parliament was a matter of indifference. And even after that battle had broken his power, Sir George Radcliffe wrote to Ormonde of "the great fear some have of Prince Rupert, his success and greatness."[[33]]
The formation of Rupert's peace-party in 1645 put the finishing touch to Digby's hatred of him, and also afforded means of exciting the King's distrust. The sanguine and unpractical Secretary, ignorant of military details, did not know that the King was beaten and could never draw another army into the field. He had a thousand schemes for gaining over the Scots, for obtaining help from Ireland or France, and he would not, and could not, believe that the game was lost. Consequently he resented the suggestion of compromise even more hotly than did the King. "Alas! my Lord!" he wrote to Jermyn in August, "I do not know four persons living, besides myself and you, that have not already given clear demonstration that they will purchase their own, and as they flatter themselves, the Kingdom's quiet, at any price to the King, the Church, and the faithfullest of his party... The next news that you will hear, after we have been one month at Oxford, will be that I, and those few others who may be thought by our Counsels to fortify the King in firmness to his principles, shall be forced or torn from him. You will find Prince Rupert, Byron, Gerard, Will Legge, and Ormonde[[34]] are the prime instruments to impose the necessity upon the King of submitting to what they, and most of the King's party at Oxford, shall think fit."[[35]]
But though he thus posed as a martyr, Digby had no intention of letting his rivals prevail. Ormonde he tried to gain over, of course without success, by the suggestion that he might supplant Rupert as Commander-in-Chief; and he had already laid a deliberate and ingenious plot for ruining the reputations of Rupert and Legge. By means of his agent, Walsingham, he obtained incriminating letters which represented both the Prince and his friend as deeply involved in intrigue with the Parliament. The letters, which are anonymous, were apparently the work of some spy in the opposing camp, who was willing to supply any information desired,—for a consideration. The Secretary was scarcely so insane as to believe in the accusations which they contained, but it suited his purpose to feign belief. Certainly it seems strange that Digby, who was undoubtedly a gentleman, and by no means devoid of honour and generosity, could have stooped to such baseness; but he had a versatile mind, and he probably persuaded himself that Rupert's peace policy was as dangerous to the King's interests as actual treachery could be, and that any means were therefore justifiable to overthrow its authors.
As early as August 8th, Walsingham forwarded to his patron an anonymous letter which stated the absolute necessity of deposing Rupert from the chief command. "I have not been silent heretofore concerning Prince Rupert and his assistant, Will Legge.... Many did suppose, and those none of the weakest men, that upon the late defeat (Naseby), his Majesty would seriously take to heart the many great and irregular errors hitherto admitted."[[36]] Four days later, Walsingham himself wrote from Oxford, hinting at a design to betray Bristol, and proposing that Digby should get Legge supplanted at Oxford by Glemham. "Legge is pleased daily to show his teeth plainer to you and yours.... Prince Rupert salutes him daily from Bristol with epistles beginning 'Brother Governor', which are communicated to the Junto you know of,... Prince Rupert is now in general obloquy with all sorts of people, except Will Legge, and some few others of that stamp. Now every one desires his absence and discarding. His Majesty has had experience both of his wilfulness and ignorance, if of no worse. Now is the time to take the bridle out of Phaeton's hands, and permit him not a third time to burn the world... Something extraordinary is on hand is evident from the daily letters which pass between here and Bristol. 'Tis sure time to provide for the safety of Oxford; for I am certain many things are done which will not bear examination, both within and without the line."[[37]]
On the sixteenth, Walsingham wrote by Lady Digby's command, that Lord Portland had joined the "Cumberlanders," as Rupert's party was now called, and must be banished at all costs. The "Cumberlanders" were endeavouring also to win Ashburnham, but some thought him "a slippery piece, and dangerous to build upon." To this was added a hint that the Prince was leaguing with the Irish rebels,—the last thing he was likely to do as he had just urged the King to abandon them; but Walsingham added cautiously that he held "only the skirts" of the story, and could say nothing certain.[[38]]