A history of England principally in the seventeenth century, Volume 2 (of 6)

by Leopold von Ranke

Under the influence of Digby, who seized the favourable moment for ruining his rival entirely—for even after the loss of power jealousy is wont to linger in princely courts—Prince Rupert was declared to be deprived of the high military authority he enjoyed, and of all his offices: his passports were also sent him with the insulting explanation that henceforth he might seek his subsistence on the Continent. The Prince received his dismissal under the counter-signature of Lord Digby, whom he regarded as the author of his disgrace and his mortal enemy. At the same time his best friend and political and military associate, William Legge, was removed from his government at Oxford. The fall of Bristol was the moment at which the party of the statesmen about the King obtained the upper hand of the military men. The soldiers were not minded to submit: professional feeling was aroused, and most of them made the Prince’s cause their own.

But apart from this, just as the capture of Bristol had once been a decisive advantage, so now the loss of that place with all its stores was an indescribable misfortune. Even in the most devoted provinces, for instance in Wales, the opponents of the King at once appeared in strength.

Charles I was a prey to the most painful hesitation: his purposes vacillated between opposite possibilities. At one time it seemed to him advisable to retire to Anglesey, which could be defended during the winter, or, if necessary, still further to the Isle of Man, finally to Ireland: only it seemed to him dishonourable for a king to make his escape in this wise. Then the events in Scotland, where Montrose had won a great victory, invited him thither. Montrose, on his march towards the English frontier, found himself threatened at once by the Parliamentary army which was following him, and by the neighbouring lords who raised their districts against him. Without much hesitation he threw himself on the army, though perhaps a third stronger than his force, and supported mainly by the brave old Lord Airly (who was more than eighty years old when he took part in the battle), A.D. 1645. and by another Ogilvy who had learned war under Gustavus Adolphus, he completely routed them (at Kilsyth, August 15). Thereupon Glasgow fell into his hands; Edinburgh begged for mercy: he appeared as master in that country. Under the influence of these tidings, and being pressed on all sides, the King determined[430] to cut his way through to the army which bore his standard victorious in the field. He wished to try the way to Scotland past Chester through Lancashire and Cumberland. He arrived at Chester at the right time to prevent the capture of the place; but in the open field his troops could not be induced to face the enemy: from the ramparts he witnessed their defeat. Not without a hope of opening himself a way through Yorkshire, he betook himself to Newark, the least endangered of the places he still held. Meanwhile Montrose had been defeated: he in his turn could not withstand the regular troops which David Lesley brought against him from England, and at Philiphaugh, near the border, he was surprised and beaten. The King knew this well, but at the rumour that Montrose had again gained an advantage, he once more resolved to make the attempt. After some days’ march he ascertained that the news was false, and that Montrose had fled to the Highlands. Digby could not be dissuaded from proceeding with part of the troops, less in the hope of achieving anything (for his friends had already been dispersed), than to avoid returning to Newark. The King returned there alone with the rest of his forces.

He had terrible scenes to endure there among his own immediate following. Digby had departed because he would not meet Prince Rupert[431], who, though he did not refuse to quit England, wished first to clear his military honour and justify himself in the King’s eyes. He asked to be brought before a court-martial, which acquitted him of all the slanderous charges brought against him on account of his conduct at Bristol. In the same degree in which the A.D. 1645. soldiers by profession showed their sympathy with the Prince, they exhibited also their indignation against Digby, by whose attacks they felt their military honour injured. The fact that at this very time Willis, the Governor of Newark, one of the Prince’s warmest supporters, was removed from his post, seemed to them to prove that the King would always be governed by Digby’s advice: and their displeasure was fanned into flame. Rupert, Willis, and Gerrard so completely lost sight of their respect for the prince for whose authority they had hitherto fought, that they forced their way into his presence to make, we cannot say representations, but accusations against him. With his arms akimbo, displeasure in every feature, Rupert strode close up to the King, who was sitting at his supper. The King rose and retired into a window with the three generals to ascertain their business. Willis complained of the dishonour done him by publishing his dismissal, and demanded public satisfaction. Rupert observed that Willis was unjustly treated for being his friend. Gerrard attacked Digby, by whom he had been removed from his command in Wales: both he and the two others pointed to Digby as the author of all disorders: they declared that it was not the King who governed, but Digby through him. The King asked whether a rebel could say anything worse; and in fact it was the severest accusation that had been brought against him for five years. Nephew, said the King, this is a matter of serious import. Rupert referred to the events at Bristol, in consequence of which he had been subjected to false accusations. Nephew, said the King: he would have said more, but the words died on his lips. The Prince gave no sign of respect: with his arms akimbo, as he had entered, so he quitted the King’s presence[432].

All the sources of help on which the King had reckoned A.D. 1645. in the spring now failed him. A treaty with the Irish Catholics was concluded through an emissary, originally instructed to refer to the Viceroy, but subsequently intrusted with full powers, upon conditions which could not be openly avowed—one of the stratagems of Charles I, which drove to despair his ministers who knew nothing about it, and were ruinous to himself[433]. The document fell into the hands of the London Committee: instead of benefiting the King, the treaty served thoroughly to prejudice the English nation against him.

The French were so fully occupied with the war in Germany, the Duke of Lorraine with the attempt to recover his hereditary dominions, that they could give the King no help. If Charles had thought of cutting his way into Scotland, it was merely because he saw no safety in England. At this moment too, the quarrels which had long disturbed his court broke out violently: the authority exercised by a minister who was no longer with him, was made a personal charge against himself: the boldest champions of his cause abandoned it. He was fortunate in being able to return with a small company to Oxford, where for the moment he gathered a kind of court about him.

Meanwhile the Parliamentary army had thoroughly mastered the Clubmen. In every province a decree of Parliament was published, which declared it treason for an armed body of men to assemble anywhere without permission.

There was no longer anything to oppose the army, which was everywhere victorious, except the armed force of Devonshire and Cornwall. But quarrels similar to that between Digby and Rupert had broken out between the Privy Council which surrounded the Prince of Wales, and the military commanders. General Goring, who loved to relieve his military duties with drinking bouts and play, wanted to be virtually independent in the conduct of the war, and especially to take no orders from the Prince’s counsellors. He had already obtained from the King instructions to the Privy Council to let him, as the general, take part in their deliberations: when this was A.D. 1645. not done, Goring imputed every disaster that happened to the members of the council. In view of the growing strength of the enemy, he desired to be subordinate to the Prince only, and sought to confine within narrow limits the influence of civil officers over the army; no officer’s commission should be signed without his knowledge, no movement of the army ordered without the officers’ concurrence. This not being granted he formed the rash resolve—for steadiness and perseverance were, not the qualities for which he was distinguished—of abandoning the cause he served and retiring to France. The same spirit was displayed also in the militia. No one among the natives was so active and conspicuous as Richard Grenville, High Sheriff of Devon, who levied troops on his own account, and imposed contributions which he expended for their support. In consequence of his independent action he also quarrelled with the government; at times the troops raised by him refused to obey the generals appointed in the King’s name. How was an energetic and orderly conduct of the war to be thought of? It came at last to this, that Grenville was imprisoned by the Privy Council.

If the most general reason for the King’s disasters be sought, it will be found in this hostility between the holders of civil and military power. He himself could not master it, far less could the Prince of Wales be expected to do so: whereas on the side of the Parliament the military tendencies were entirely supreme, and carried away with them all energies of another kind; no other will could oppose them.

There was still a general of reputation and talent, Lord Hopton, who undertook the control of the army in concert with the Privy Councillors who formed the Prince’s government: but, as he said, he did it only from a sense of duty, for no honour was to be gained. On his banner were inscribed the words ‘I will strive my King to serve’: he would obey, he said, even at the risk of his good name. Under his command the forces of the western counties once more measured their strength with the Parliamentarians, at the well-fortified pass of Torrington, and here offered some resistance; but the superiority of the Parliamentary foot over the Royalists was so decisive that the latter did not A.D. 1645. hold their ground very courageously. At the end of February Fairfax advanced into Cornwall. On March 2 the Prince, no longer safe in Pendennis, where he had been staying, embarked with his counsellors in a vessel which took them to the Scilly Islands. A considerable body of horsemen was still united under Hopton. But already every man was possessed by a conviction that all they did was in vain. The service was very carelessly performed. In a council of war the officers declared to the general that their men could no longer be brought to face the enemy: they told him frankly that unless he began negotiations they should proceed to do so without him. The troops themselves actually began: at the first encounter of the advanced guards in the neighbourhood of Probus, the Royalists cried out ‘Truce, truce!’ they entered upon it before it was concluded[434]. After brief conferences a capitulation was arranged (March 14) in accordance with which Hopton’s brigades,—there were nine of them,—were disbanded one after the other. The King’s cavalry had to surrender their arms at the very place where formerly Essex’s foot had done the same[435]. Most of the troops declared themselves ready to go to Ireland and fight there for the Parliament, without paying any attention to the counter-orders of the King. The superiority of the Parliamentary army was combined with a sort of voluntary disbanding of the Royalist forces. The forts and castles which were still in their hands went over one by one.