‘Sir, the Crown of England is and will be where it ought to be, we fight to maintain it there; but the King, misled by evil counsellors or through a seduced heart, hath left his Parliament and his people, under God the best assurance of his Crown and family. The maintenance of this schism is the ground of this unhappy war on your part, and what sad effects it hath produced in the three kingdoms is visible to all men.’
Sir Thomas Fairfax’s Summons to Prince Rupert, outside Bristol, 4 September 1645
Rupert was aware that the defeat at Naseby left him vulnerable to his enemies at Court. A ciphered letter to his great friend Legge, the governor of Oxford, reveals a wearied acceptance of his exposure:
Dear Will,
… Pray let me know what is said among you concerning our defeat. Doubtless the fault of it will be put upon Rupert … Since this business, I find Digby hath omitted nothing which might prejudice Rupert, and this day hath drawn a letter for the King to Prince Charles, in which he crosses all things that hath befell here in Rupert’s behalf. I have showed this to the King, and in earnest; and if, thereupon, he should go and send it, I shall be forced to quit generalship …
Your faithful friend,
Rupert.[fn1]
Digby’s servant, Felton, spread the slander that, on seeing the size of the army arrayed against the Royalists, Lord Astley had tried to stop Rupert from fighting. The prince had disregarded the veteran’s advice, Felton said, so must take full responsibility for the ensuing disaster; by implication, Digby’s insistence on fighting was not to blame.
Felton was lying, but in the aftermath of defeat, with scapegoats much sought after, the falsehood took root. Legge, eager to salvage the prince’s reputation, asked Digby to explain whether he was behind the slander. He received a less than straightforward reply, from a man that — even his Parliamentary enemies acknowledged — had a way of producing, ‘good lines, at which he is as good as the best’.[fn2]
My dear Governor,
… I am sure that Prince Rupert hath so little kindness for me, as I daily find he hath, it imports both to me and mine to be much the more cautious not to speak anything that may be wrested to his prejudice. I can but lament my misfortune that Prince Rupert is neither gainable nor tenable by me, though I have endured it with all the industry and justness unto him in the world, and lament your absence from him … But I conjure you, if you preserve that justice and kindness for me which I will not doubt, if you hear anything from Prince Rupert concerning me, suspend your judgement. As for the particular aspersion upon him which you mention, of fighting against advice, he is very much wronged in it, whether you mean in the general or in the particular of that day.
I shall only say this freely to you, that I think a principal occasion of our misfortune was the want of you with us; for had you been there, I am persuaded that when once we have come up so near them as they could not go from us, you would at least have asked some questions …
Well, let us look forward; give your Prince good advice as to caution, and value of counsel, and God will yet make him an instrument of much happiness to the King and kingdom, and that being, I will adore him as much as you love him, though he should hate as much.
Your faithfullest friend and servant,
George Digby[fn3]
Legge, usually so measured, started his reply with customary reserve. However, he could not hide his anger for long:
My dear Lord,
… I do assure your Lordship it was out of great respect to you that your servant, Felton, did not feel a reward for his folly … what I accused him of in my letter to you, were no more than what he confessed himself to me he reported; which was, that Prince Rupert did that day [at Naseby] fight contrary to the opinions of my Lord Astley …
With people much distracted for the great loss, these words went far to the Prince’s prejudice; and though he writes to your Secretary that this report was raised on him out of malice to you, he assures your Lordship it will not be beaten out of the heads of many that his report was out of malice to the Prince.
I am extremely afflicted to understand from you that Prince Rupert and yourself should be upon so unkindly terms, and I protest I have cordially endeavoured, with all my interest in his Highness, to incline him to a friendship with your Lordship conceiving it a matter of advantage to my master’s service, to have good intelligence between persons so eminently employed in his affairs … But, my Lord, I often found this a hard matter to hold between you; and truly, my Lord, your last letter to me gives me some cause to think your Lordship not altogether free from what he often accused you of as the reason of his jealousies; which was, that you did both say and do things to his prejudice contrary to your professions, not in an open and direct line, but obscurely and obliquely; and this way, under your Lordship’s pardon, I find your letter, in my understanding, very full of. For, where your Lordship would excuse him of the particular and general aspersions, yet you come with such objections against the conduct of that business, as would, to men ignorant of the Prince, make him incapable of common sense in his profession.
For my part, my Lord, I am so well acquainted with the Prince’s way, that I am confident all his General Officers and Commanders knew beforehand how or in what manner he intended to fight; and when, as you say, all mankind were of opinion to fight, his part was to put it in execution … And, for the not calling of a Council for the instant, truly, the Prince having before laid his business, were there need of it, the blame must be as much yours as any man’s …
I cannot but conceive it the partiality of your Lordship’s wonted favours towards me, that you impute the misfortune of the day to my absence …
But your Lordship says, you write none of these things with reflection; yet, let me frankly tell your Lordship, no impartial man that reads your letters to me and others, will free you from that, nay, charge you with it in a very great measure: and this truth you must pardon me in declaring to you. And assure yourself you are not free from great blame towards Prince Rupert; and no man will give you this free language at a cheaper rate than myself, though many discourse of it.[fn4]
Legge wanted Digby to understand that there were many in the Royalist camp who knew him for what he was and heartily despised him. Legge also needed Digby to appreciate that he was among those who preferred to look to Rupert for honest leadership, to rescue them from a rampant Parliament, and from the danger of sly, self-serving courtiers.
*
A surprising optimism pervaded the Royalist ranks immediately after the drubbing received at Naseby. The king and Rupert had made for Hereford, quickly linking up with Gerard’s 2,000 men, who could have made such a difference in Northamptonshire, days before. Charles still believed he had enough men to form an effective force: 4,000 of his cavalry had escaped from Naseby and there was also Goring’s army of 9,000 men in the southwest, as well as Montrose’s Irish and Scots in the Highlands. An air of denial hung over the scattered Royalist forces, as they dreamt of a new dawn.
Small triumphs followed, fanning the flames of unreality. A further recruitment drive was ordered for Wales, in the hope that another infantry corps could be raised. In the general euphoria that followed the trauma of defeat, nobody wanted to acknowledge that Naseby had seen not just a haemorrhaging of men, but also a mass forfeiting of arms: the muskets required to arm the force had been left scattered on the battlefield, providing a bountiful harvest for the victorious Parliamentarians and leaving the Royalists woefully short of firepower.
Meanwhile, the prince had to move to the southwest, his dual mission a liaison with the Prince of Wales and the bolstering of Bristol’s defences. The king was considering transferring there from Oxford and planned to ferry his new, Welsh recruits across the Bristol Channel as soon as they were ready. Further urgency was caused by fear that Fairfax might besiege the city — the general had quickly recaptured Leicester and was now moving southwestwards to tackle Goring outside Taunton.
Goring quickly lifted his siege and tried to avoid the approaching force, which outnumbered him two to one. However, on 10 July, he was taken by surprise at Langport: although few of his men were killed during the battle, half his cavalry was captured. Goring retreated into the southwest peninsula, leaving Fairfax with an empty stage. The New Model Army, its confidence boosted by a success it attributed to divine favour, now pushed on, quickly storming Barnstaple, and then taking Bath and Sherborne before July was out. Lord Digby lost Sherborne: his Royalist enemies were suspicious of this defeat, wondering whether the secretary of state had treacherously brought about this reverse, in collusion with the Roundheads.
After Langport, Rupert recognised that his uncle’s cause was lost. Charles had greeted the reversal of Naseby with his usual dilatoriness: he passed three weeks in Ragland Castle with ‘sports and entertainment’ in the morning, and engaging in ‘controversies on questions of divinity in the evening’.[fn5] The prince wrote from Bristol to his friend the Duke of Richmond, on 28 July, urging him to let the king hear from a trusted mouth what was evident to so many. Rupert’s advice was that ‘His Majesty hath now no way left to preserve his posterity, kingdom and nobility but by a treaty. I believe it a more prudent way to retain something than to lose all.’[fn6] No doubt he was mindful of his father’s fate, after accepting the throne of Bohemia.
The king took the advice in the right spirit, accepting the military reality of the situation while looking for salvation from a higher power: ‘If I had any other quarrel but the defence of my religion, crown, and friends, you had full reason for your advice. For I confess that speaking as a mere soldier or statesman, I must say there is no probability but of my ruin. Yet as a Christian I must tell you that God will not suffer rebels and traitors to prosper, nor this cause to be overthrown, and whatever personal punishment it shall please him to inflict on me must not make me repine, let alone give over this quarrel.’[fn7] This letter was intercepted, the vulnerability of the monarch’s lines of communication a symptom of Parliament’s tightening net.
Rupert had expected the king to head for Bristol, where he hoped to provide his uncle with protection. However, to Rupert’s consternation, he learnt that Charles was contemplating heading to Scotland with his cavalry — a ‘strange undertaking’, in Rupert’s estimation, which seemed, at best, to have a slim chance of success. The prince also worried that the Royalist position in the south, already precarious, would be made desperate if deprived of its figurehead.
Rupert felt increasingly isolated from his uncle. Unaware that many letters from the king had gone astray, he wrongly concluded that Charles’s apparent silence reflected anger at his frank advice. ‘He did send me no commands,’ Rupert grumbled to Will Legge, ‘and, to say truth, my humour is to do no man service against his will. They say he is gone northward. I have had no answer to ten letters I wrote; but from the Duke of Richmond, to whom I wrote plainly, and bid be plain with the King, and desire him to consider of some way which might lead to a treaty, rather than undo his posterity. How this pleases I know not; but, rather than not do my duty, and speak my mind freely, I will take his unjust pleasure.’[fn8]
A week later the king wrote revealing his continuing affection for his nephew and his abiding optimism that the royal cause would prosper in the end: ‘And now, because it is possible that it will be a long time before I see you, I earnestly desire you to have an implicit faith in my friendship and affection to you, for I assure you I hold myself interested equally to protect you as one of my children; so that you shall share largely with me, if ever it shall please God to send happy days unto Your loving Uncle and most faithful Friend, Charles.’[fn9]
It seems strange, the king’s acceptance of his military commander’s absence from his side, when so hard-pressed by a rampant enemy. However, Rupert was happy to distance himself from his enemy, Digby, explaining in cipher to a curious Legge: ‘You do well to wonder why Prince Rupert is not with the King, but when you know the Lord Digby’s intentions to ruin him, you will then not find it strange. But all this shall not hinder me from doing my duty where I am.’[fn10] This was written from Bristol, scene of one of Rupert’s greater triumphs earlier in the war, but now a city in peril: it was increasingly cut off from the rest of the Civil War by a naval blockade and encircling Roundhead land forces. The speedy capture of Bridgwater on 23 July, after concerted attacks, gave further evidence of the effectiveness of the New Model Army: the town had been expected to withstand a lengthy siege, despite Goring’s defeat at nearby Langport. Its fall deprived the Royalists of a useful staging post for arms and supplies in the west and southwest.
Bristol was in a wretched state, impoverished by the continued warfare and afflicted by a summer outbreak of plague: ‘They have few carts in the city,’ a rebel wrote, ‘but carry all upon their heads, for the most part. The sickness is still hot in the town, and it is also in the great fort, and in the castle; yet Sir Thomas Fairfax keeps Rupert and some others of note in Bristol, and draws out the line, and is in good hopes to take it, the citizens, for the most part, longing to be rid of the Cavaliers.’[fn11] Against this desperate backdrop, Rupert had to meet an imminent, full-blooded siege.
The prince reacted to the threat with his usual drive. He set his men to work, stiffening the city’s flimsy defences and foraging for food. A rough census of the city informed him that 2,500 families — approximately 12,500 inhabitants — would need provisions. He told the citizens to prepare for a six-month siege. Those that were unable to afford extra supplies were assisted by 2,000 measures of corn, ordered by Rupert from Wales. Cattle from the surrounding area were driven into Bristol, to provide milk and beef during the coming blockade. However, despite the prince’s efforts, the city could not be properly prepared for the rebels’ arrival: ‘The townsmen’, Parliament was informed, ‘being unprovided for a siege, have great scarcity of victuals, which, [it] is probable, may cause them to mutiny, but indeed the castle, and the Prince’s fort, the great fort, where Rupert quarters, is well victualled.’[fn12] On 12 August the prince wrote to his uncle that, provided the citizens did not rise up, he hoped to be able to hold Bristol for four months. Given the lesson of Bridgwater, and the small size of the Bristol garrison, this assessment owed more to bravado than to realism.
Unsure of the citizens’ support, Rupert tried to pacify the ‘clubmen’ of the southwest. These were civilian resistance fighters who, fed up with the abuses of Royalists and rebels, had taken to attacking both their tormentors. Their rudimentary weaponry was offset by their passionate desire to protect their property and families. By this stage of the war, with Parliament’s forces increasingly disciplined, Charles’s forces were more often seen as the clubmen’s enemy. The Royalist Sir John Oglander conceded that some of his colleagues had brought their animosity on themselves: ‘They imputed their failures to want of money, for they would idly spend it as fast as they had it, not caring how they burdened the country, thereby making of their friends their enemies.’[fn13] Rupert was unable to appease the clubmen: they had been too alienated by past Royalist excesses to be brought to heel now.
The Parliamentarian army continued to close in: Sherborne Castle (Sir Walter Raleigh’s old home) was stormed, Bath was abandoned, and Frome was captured. Rupert was left to face the rebels with a garrison of just 1,500 men and a very limited supply of gunpowder — pleas to Sir Edward Nicholas for reinforcements and armaments had gone unheeded, and the one Royalist ship sent to help him was kept at bay by the rebel fleet. The prince found himself with the same problem that Nathaniel Fiennes had faced, the previous year, when Rupert had attacked Bristol: how to defend the city’s 4 miles of perimeter walls, with their sporadic fortifications and with an inadequate force?
Rupert and his senior officers became increasingly despondent. Nothing had been heard from the king or his advisers for an age and there seemed to be no hope of relief. Meanwhile, irreplaceable provisions were being consumed quickly. The prince summoned his council of war — ‘composed’, in Warburton’s words, ‘of the most daring and gallant men that the war had spared’[fn14] — and examined the choices left open to them. Baron de Gomme, Rupert’s Engineer-General, gave a grim account of the defences’ shortcomings, concluding that the thin, low walls of the city would not be able to withstand a vigorous assault.
The council of war contemplated Rupert’s breaking out from Bristol with the cavalry, leaving the infantry to fend for itself, but, it was later revealed, ‘This, by all of us the Colonels of posts and Officers, was thought neither safe nor honourable.’[fn15] A second fighting option was for Rupert to pour his best troops into the castle and fort, and to hold these bastions for as long as possible. However, all present knew that everyone not chosen for this task would be at the mercy of the enemy. Besides, the castle and fort would not be able to hold out for long. ‘Seeing that neither of the former ways could be taken,’ the surviving members of the council were to recall, ‘we were all resolved to fall upon the best general defence that could be made of the whole, wherein we might all share alike.’[fn16]
*
On 22 August, units of the New Model Army arrived outside Bristol, in advance of the main force under Fairfax and Cromwell. The prince sent Sir Richard Crane, recognised by rebel pamphleteers as a ‘great favourer of Rupert’s’[fn17] to skirmish with the approaching enemy. Crane’s mission was short-lived: he was shot through the thighs — serious wounds that soon led to his death. This was one of several losses that further demoralised the prince: Sir Bernard Astley (son of Lord Astley, the erstwhile Royalist infantry commander) was ambushed, wounded in the shoulder and leg, and captured; and Colonel Daniell, who had been present at the attempted arrest of the Five Members, was shot seven times in the same action, ignorant surgery ensuring a speedy despatch. These casualties underlined the cost of pointless resistance.
Fairfax spent the following week laying the foundations for an armed assault. While rebel spies tried, unsuccessfully, to foment insurrection in the city, Fairfax pushed his cannon and his ships hard against the Royalist defences, ‘and so hath made Bristol an in-land-town’.[fn18] Fairfax was aided by 2,000 clubmen, who beat a Royalist garrison out of Portishead.
Bristol’s defenders experienced growing tension. They expected a night attack each time that dusk fell, and their nerves and reserves of gunpowder were worn down by dummy attacks on successive nights. Rupert twice ordered his men to prepare to venture out against the Roundhead encirclement, but he backed down on both occasions. Fairfax’s men grew in confidence: ‘Rupert is resolved of a desperate sally,’ one of his officers informed the Speaker of the House of Commons from the front line. ‘I hope he will be received, these two nights past, he prepared but durst not come out: This morning at break of the day, I never saw men take Horse and advance more cheerfully than ours did, having an Alarum that he was coming.’[fn19] Rupert was no longer the feared Royalist talisman of the early years of the war.
On 29 August the New Model Army erected a bridge across the Avon: it now had a foothold on both sides of the river, completing the city’s isolation. Six days later, Fairfax sent a trumpeter into Bristol, formally summoning Rupert to surrender. Pamphleteers painted the scene with relish: ‘So soon as the Prince received the paper,’ one propagandist alleged, tapping into the caricature image of the Cavalier, ‘he looking in it, swore God damn him it was a summons, and called for a cup of sack and sat down and read it and detained the trumpeter in Bristol.’[fn20]
The manner in which Fairfax addressed the prince shows regard for a distinguished foe, whose lineage and character demanded respect: ‘I take into consideration your Royal birth, and relation to the Crown of England, your honour, courage, and the virtue of your person’, Fairfax wrote. He then played on the well-known division between the prince’s and Digby’s factions, claiming that, in the suppressing of the king’s ‘evil counsellors’, Fairfax and Rupert shared a common cause: ‘to bring those wicked instruments to justice that have misled him, is a principal ground of our fighting’,[fn21] the rebel leader stated.
At the same time, Fairfax presented the surrender of Bristol as a chance for Rupert to wash clean his bloodstained hands, and to repay the Palatine debt to their doughty English allies: ‘Let all England judge whether the burning of its towns, ruining its cities, and destroying its people be a good requital from a person of your family, which hath had the prayers, tears, purses, and blood of its Parliament and people; and, if you look on either as now divided, which hath ever had that same party both in Parliament and amongst the people most zealous for their assistance and restitution, which you now oppose and seek to destroy, and whose constant grief has been that their desires to serve your family have been ever hindered or made fruitless by that same party about his Majesty, whose counsels you act, and whose interests you pursue in this unnatural war.’[fn22]
There was enough in Fairfax’s clever construction to intrigue the prince. Surrender was a difficult concept for a former prisoner of war, whose proud reputation was to meet potential reversals with bold attack. The accusations cast against Digby and his clique resonated with Rupert. Similarly thought-provoking was the reminder of what would happen if the New Model Army were forced to attack. Prince Rupert and his senior officers, all seasoned fighters, knew the rules of war: a failure to surrender could expose not only their soldiers and the citizens of Bristol to the mercy of the Parliamentarians, but would also endanger the lives of the wives of Royalist officers who were in the city. Futile death and widespread destruction would be the only rewards for stubborn resistance.
Fairfax set about further undermining Royalist morale. He took to eating in the open, clearly confident of success and ready to deliver the final attack at any moment. He emphasised the point by inspecting his troops and Rupert’s defensive lines in full view of the Royalists. ‘And when the General had viewed all, he came to his own Cannon, and viewed them all to see how they were planted, and how levelled, particularly the great twisted piece …’[fn23]
Rupert stalled. He asked for permission to send to the king, to gain his approval for the surrender. Fairfax, who knew what the prince did not — that Charles was within 60 miles of the city and that Goring was also hoping to come to Bristol’s relief — refused this request. Rupert then demanded that Sir Thomas have his Summons sanctioned by Parliament, in London. This attempt at time-wasting was dismissed out of hand: the prince had overplayed his extremely limited hand.
At 2 a.m. on 10 September 1645, the New Model Army began the storming of Bristol. Four great guns signalled an attack every bit as ferocious as Rupert’s assault of the previous year. Major Price, a Royalist, held the fort for three hours, before being overwhelmed by rebels on scaling ladders: no quarter was offered — he and all his men were slain. Meanwhile, the clubmen caused terror around Bedminster, forcing Rupert’s men back towards the city’s centre. ‘Ours being made masters of the most part of the Town,’ recalled a Roundhead eyewitness, ‘Rupert fled into the Castle; our men being about to plant Pieces [of artillery] against it, Rupert sent for a Parley to them: the Soldiers were unwilling, but the General, out of his noble resolutions to spare the Town, Rupert having fired it in three small places, condescended to it, which by six that night produced these Articles …’[fn24]
It was agreed that Rupert could lead his men out of the city to any Royalist stronghold within 50 miles of Bristol, with colours flying, drums playing, and swords by their sides. The ordinary soldiers were to take with them all their personal possessions, without being searched or molested by Parliamentary troops. Rupert’s officers and lifeguards were to be allowed to remain fully armed. The sick and wounded were to be permitted to follow when they could. The citizens of Bristol were not to be harmed in any way. Fairfax was to occupy the city and keep all remaining military accoutrements. These included 100 pieces of ordnance, 7,000 muskets, and 10 small ships. The really significant prize, however, was the city itself — the last major port held in Charles’s name had fallen.
Rupert made as dignified an exit from Bristol as was possible. Oliver Cromwell, second-in-command of the New Model Army, accompanied the prince from the castle’s gate to the outside of the city, where Fairfax greeted him. ‘The Prince was clad in scarlet,’ remarked an eyewitness, with reluctant admiration, ‘very richly laid in silver lace, mounted upon a very gallant black Barbary horse; the General [Fairfax] and the Prince rode together, the General giving the Prince the right hand all the way.’[fn25] The great civility with which he was treated by the victors made a deep impression on Rupert. ‘All fair respects between him and Sir Thomas Fairfax; much respect from the General Cromwell. He gave the gallant compliment to Major Harrison, “That he never received such satisfaction in such unhappiness, and that if ever in his power, he will recompense it”.’[fn26]
Behind Rupert followed a mixed procession that comprised 1,100 soldiers, 40 of his noblemen’s and senior officers’ wives, 80 clergymen, and 450 horses. It was expected that this column would head for nearby Worcester, where Prince Maurice was dangerously ill with the plague, but when he arrived at the green outside Bristol, Rupert announced that his destination would be Oxford. Rupert asked for, and was given, muskets, to stave off attacks from the clubmen. These weapons were to be returned to the Parliamentary escort on reaching Woodstock.
Colonel John Butler was one of the senior New Model Army officers accompanying Rupert on this journey. On completion of his mission, he wrote to Sir William Waller, with his impressions of the prince: ‘I had the honour to wait upon his Highness Prince Rupert with a convoy from Bristol to this place; and seriously I am glad I had the happiness to see him, for I am confident we are much mistaken in our intelligence concerning him. I find him a man much inclined to a happy peace, and will certainly employ his interest with his Majesty for the accomplishing of it. Therefore I make it my request to you, that you will use some means that no pamphlet be printed that may derogate from his worth for the delivery of Bristol. On my word he could not have held it, unless it had been better manned.’[fn27]
Rupert could not rely on such magnanimity from his own side. Marston Moor had punctured Rupert’s aura of invincibility, while Naseby had further tarnished his reputation. With the fall of Bristol, Digby looked to administer the coup de grace to an exquisitely vulnerable foe.