Prince Rupert

The Last Cavalier

Charles Spencer

• Publisher: William Collins
• Year: 2020
• ISBN:
  9780008373252
• Topic: Geschichte
• Subtopic: Britische Geschichte

A brilliant history of Prince Rupert of the Rhine from his penniless start, becoming a soldier in his teenage years, up to his life as King Charles I’s most famous and spectacular general.

Born in Prague in 1619, Prince Rupert was set for a life of enormous privilege but when his father, Frederick V, lost his crown Rupert’s family were left with just eight years to flee Prague – they hastened to safety, but left the infant Rupert behind. He was discovered in a final sweep of the deserted palace.

This is the adventurous story of Rupert, from his decision at the age of twelve to become a soldier, through the Thirty Years War and his entry into England, where he became an infamous presence on the battlefield, a classically handsome, swaggering, expert cavalier, and a fierce Royalist who would defend King Charles I to the death throughout the Civil War.

Chapter One

Baptism of Fire

‘Swaddled in Armour, Drums appeasd thy Cries, And the Shrill Trumpet sang thy Lullabies.’

Thomas Flatman, On the Death of the Illustrious Prince Rupert, a Pindarique Ode

Rupert was born in Prague on 17 December 1619, at half past ten at night. He was the third son, and fourth child, of a union that exuded glamour and promised glory. His mother Elizabeth was a British princess famed as a romantic icon throughout the Continent. His father Frederick V was Count Palatine, one of the foremost Protestant princes of Europe. ‘From thy noble Pedigree,’ Rupert’s eulogist would conclude, ‘The Royal Blood … sparked in thy veins.’[fn1] The princeling’s royal heritage was of a north and middle European stamp: his grandmothers were princesses, one Danish, the other Dutch; his maternal grandfather was James I of England. When James heard that his only surviving daughter had produced a new grandson, he pressed a purse of gold coins into the messenger’s hands, before ordering the drinking of toasts.

Frederick and Elizabeth invited their subjects to file past their baby. Rupert lay in an ebony cradle — a symbol of the rich luxury that they assumed would be his lifelong companion. Another of his gifts was a silver ship, a prophetic offering, for some of Rupert’s most fascinating and challenging years would be at sea. Since he was native-born, unlike his two older brothers, there were calls for Rupert to be declared heir to his parents’ new kingdom — a proposal that failed in the Bohemian parliament by one vote. However, the neighbouring territory of Lusatia proclaimed Rupert as its prince.

Rupert’s christening took place on 31 March 1620, a contemporary recording: ‘The solemnity of his baptism was very extraordinary, there being present the King himself, his brother, two princes of the House of Saxony, the Duke of Anhalt, Elector of Hohenloe, with many other persons of eminent condition …’[fn2] He was named after an ancestor who had been Emperor between 1400 and 1410, Rupert the Clement. The young prince inherited his forebear’s Christian name, not his disposition.

Bethlem Gabor was chosen as godfather: he was a formidable, Transylvanian, nobleman who claimed the throne of Hungary. Unable to attend the christening in person, he sent Count Thurtzo to represent him. The count, in body armour, received the infant from the priest and held him: a gesture that signalled his absent master’s duty of guardianship. Thurtzo then passed Rupert to the deputies of the Bohemian dependencies, who were also encased in armour. The sight of breastplates and swords in a cathedral was indicative of the close intertwining of the religious and the military in early seventeenth-century Europe. This was a time when senior ecclesiastical figures were at the centre of politics and lay princes were entrusted with spiritual duties.

Rupert’s father had recently, by request, become King of Bohemia, with Elizabeth his queen. The Bohemian nobility needed a Protestant champion to replace, and then stand up to, the Catholic Habsburgs, whom they had recently overthrown. Frederick, after much agonising, had agreed to take on the role. Rarely can the acceptance of an invitation have sparked such colossal devastation. Rupert’s birth took place after the fuse had been lit and just before the powder keg went up. Even as the boy’s arrival was celebrated, plans were forming in Catholic Europe that would impact fatally on his parents’ rule and set the newborn’s life on its helter-skelter course.

*

When Rupert’s parents married, in 1613, it was the conclusion of his mother’s exhaustive search for a suitable husband. By the standards of the age, Elizabeth’s clean features and height marked her out as handsome. Her lineage and charm persuaded people, somewhat against the evidence of her portraits, to declare her a great beauty. There was, however, no doubting her personality. Elizabeth had a confidence and sparkle inherited from her charismatic grandmother, Mary Queen of Scots. Unfortunately, Elizabeth would also match her tragic ancestress for heartbreak.

The princess was seven when her father left Scotland to assume the English throne. It had been left vacant by the death of the girl’s godmother, Elizabeth I. From the start young ‘Lady Elizabeth’ was hugely popular, provoking delighted admiration and praise from all who met her. James believed that royal children prospered better if kept away from the distractions of court life, so Elizabeth was handed over to an aristocratic couple, Lord and Lady Harington — ‘persons eminent for prudence and piety’[fn3] — for a strict education. The reports from their residence at Combe Abbey, near Coventry, were consistently enthusiastic: ‘With God’s assistance’, Lord Harington wrote, ‘we hope to do our Lady Elizabeth such service as is due to her princely endowments and natural abilities; both which appear the sweet dawning of future comfort to her royal father.’[fn4]

This princess of rare qualities was celebrated throughout the kingdom. If the Gunpowder Plot of 1605 had been successful in blowing up James and his sons, the conspirators had intended to kidnap Elizabeth, have her crowned, and bring her up a Catholic. ‘What a queen should I have been by this means!’ she said when told of the plan, ‘I had rather have been with my Royal Father in the Parliament House, than wear his Crown on such condition.’[fn5]

As womanhood approached Elizabeth’s hand became much sought after overseas. The French ambassador met the princess when she was 11 and was captivated by her poise. ‘I assure you’, he reported to Paris, ‘that it will not be her fault if she is not dauphiness — and she might have worse fancies — for she is not at all vexed when it is mentioned to her.’[fn6] Sir Walter Raleigh thought Elizabeth ‘by nature and education endowed with such princely perfections, both of body and mind, as may well deserve to be reputed a worthy spouse for the greatest monarch in Christendom’.[fn7] Her lengthy list of failed suitors included the kings of Sweden and Spain, the Dauphin of France, and Maurice of Nassau, the Dutch leader.

The collapse of the Spanish suit helps to explain Elizabeth’s eventual choice of husband. James I had hoped that such a union would underline the end of hostilities between England and Spain, and advertise his wise and peace-loving kingship. However, his heir, Prince Henry, spoke for the majority of Englishmen when loudly rejecting his sister’s sacrifice to Popery. ‘The prince hath publicly said’, the Spanish ambassador was shocked to note, ‘that whosoever should counsel his father to marry his sister to a Catholic prince, were a traitor, and that it cannot be but to kill him and his brother, and make the succession theirs; he is a great heretic!’[fn8]

The most obvious Protestant match was the gifted Swedish prince, Gustavus Adolphus. However, Sweden was at war with Denmark, and the Danish king was Elizabeth’s maternal uncle, so this option fell away. Of the other choices, Frederick V, Count Palatine, was the candidate who stood out. He was the Palsgrave, or ‘Palace Count’, a role his family had filled since the tenth century. As such, he was the senior Protestant prince of the Holy Roman Empire — that hotchpotch of 300 Germanic, Bohemian, Lowland, and Italian lands, which was among the largest realms in Europe. The Count Palatine was one of the seven electors (the other six electors were the Archbishops of Cologne, Mainz, and Trier, and the King of Bohemia, the Duke of Saxony, and the Margrave of Brandenburg) charged by a fourteenth-century Papal Bull with the appointment of the Emperor. However, since the late Middle Ages, the throne — along with those of Hungary and Bohemia — had effectively become the possession of the Habsburg dynasty.

Frederick’s upbringing had more breadth to it than Elizabeth’s cloistered childhood. He had completed his education in Sedan, at the house of his uncle, the Duke of Bouillon. French was the main language spoken at Heidelberg, so this was an opportunity to progress to faultless fluency. His tutor was Tilenus, a Calvinist who stressed the need to guard against the evils of Catholicism. He planted in his pupil the lifelong conviction that the Pope, his Jesuit foot soldiers, and his Spanish Habsburg allies, were conspiring to undermine the rest of Europe for their own gain.

Religion was the cornerstone of a varied education. Frederick became a fine dancer, an adept swordsman, and an accomplished rider. By the time that he inherited the electorate, on his father’s death in 1610, Frederick had the makings of the perfect prince: he was devout, polished, and manly. The following year, when James I took discreet soundings about Frederick’s character and prospects from Bouillon, he received an enthusiastic critique: a perfect physique, a dark complexion and handsome face; a natural athleticism, particularly on horseback; a serious faith and pure morals; a wonderful portfolio of houses, including exquisite hunting lodges; and, when he came of age, arguably the most important electorate of the Holy Roman Empire. Eligibility was not a problem.

However, many in England had expected Elizabeth to marry a king. A prince, albeit one of Frederick’s fine pedigree, was considered too humble a match for the ‘Pearl of Britain’. Protestant supporters of the marriage felt it necessary to stress the importance of the Palatinate to the disappointed: ‘Now for his Highness’s Country’, wrote one of James I’s chaplains, ‘it is neither so small, unfruitful, or mean, as is by some supposed. It is in length about 200 English miles, the lower and the upper country. In the lower the Prince hath 26 walled towns, besides an infinite number of good and fair villages, 22 houses; and the land is very fruitful of wine, corn, and other comfortable fruits for man’s use, having the Rhine and the Neckar running through it. The upper Country hath not so many walled towns and princely houses, but those that are, be generally fairer than in the lower, especially Amberg and Newmarket [sic].’[fn9]

It was Frederick’s devotion to Protestantism, and his tolerance of all its forms, that ultimately secured Elizabeth’s hand. Since 1555, the rulers of each part of the Holy Roman Empire had been permitted to choose their territory’s official religion. This concession helped to defuse the tension between Roman Catholics and Protestants. Since 1562, with one short-lived aberration, the count’s family had been solidly Calvinist, while its capital, Heidelberg, was known for its religious and intellectual enlightenment. ‘We have to bless God’, wrote an English translator of Palatine scriptures, in 1614, ‘for the religious care of our dread sovereign, in matching his only daughter, a princess peerless, with a Prince of that soundness of religion as the Prince Elector is.’[fn10]

Although the princess’s mother, Anne of Denmark, was a Catholic sympathiser, her father’s succession to the English throne had been conditional on his promise to uphold Anglicanism. The English Establishment, which had so hurriedly welcomed James, already viewed him with concern. Nobles were appalled by his sale of hereditary titles, which introduced rich parvenus to the aristocracy. Furthermore, his rampant homosexuality was considered troubling in a king, partly on moral grounds, but more practically because his good-looking young favourites bypassed the conventional channels of patronage to gorge themselves on ill-deserved honours.

A sure way for James to regain some popularity was to play the religious card: in 1612 he took England into the Protestant Union, a defensive confederation of nine German principalities and seventeen imperial cities formed by Frederick’s father, and which the young Palsgrave now led. The same year, he agreed that Elizabeth should wed Frederick. The public preacher in Bristol — England’s second city and a place that was to play an important role in Rupert’s adult life — welcomed the betrothal: ‘Unto you happy Prince, and sent of God to increase our happiness’, he said in an open letter, ‘Come in thou blessed of the Lord, for whom the choicest pearl in the Christian world is by God himself prepared. The Lord makes her like Leah and like Rahel [sic], which two builded the house of Israel. Let her grow into thousand thousands, and let her seed possess the gate of his enemies.’[fn11]

It was expected for princes and princesses to make dynastic marriages. Rupert’s parents were unusual in that theirs was a genuine love match, whose romantic pulse never slowed. Frederick made a sublime impression, on arriving in England. His ‘well-becoming confidence’[fn12] was noted, as was his ‘wit, courage and judgement’.[fn13] Elizabeth was relieved to be marrying such a dashing young man: when Prince Maurice of Nassau had been presented as a possible mate, she had been repelled by the physical decay of his advanced middle age. By contrast, she fell quickly and completely in love with her handsome, youthful suitor.

The 16-year-old couple, only four days apart in age, married in Whitehall Chapel on St Valentine’s Day, 1613. Elizabeth wore a gold crown, her white dress and loosely hanging hair advertising her virginity. Despite the bride’s simplicity, James managed to spend nearly £100,000 on the celebrations, prompting one of his courtiers to offer a cheerless supplication: ‘God grant money to pay debts.’[fn14] However, the revelry was not only about fleeting extravagance: William Shakespeare offered an enduring wedding gift, writing a play for the couple. The Tempest was performed fourteen times by the King’s Men during the festivities, for which the players received £150. The Archbishop of Canterbury summed up the hopes of all who witnessed the match: ‘The God of Abraham, of Isaac, and of Jacob bless these nuptials, and make them prosperous to these kingdoms and to his Church.’[fn15]

Frederick left for home ahead of his bride so that he could be in the Palatinate to receive her. Elizabeth travelled with a train of supporters that, by the time it reached the outskirts of Heidelberg, consisted of 12 princes, 30 earls, 1,000 gentlemen, and 2,000 soldiers. Her arrival was greeted with volleys of musket shot and salvoes of cannon fire from the Palatine army. ‘Then they marched altogether orderly in good array,’ wrote an eyewitness, ‘conducting her to Heidelberg, where the citizens wanted no expressions of joy, love, and duty in hearty welcoming of her, & praying for her; all windows being replenished with people of all ages and degrees, and the streets thronged with multitudes of people, drawn thither from all parts, not so much to see the Pageants that were erected to further this honourable entertainment, as to have their eyes filled in beholding of her Highness, whom all honoured and admired.’[fn16]

Frederick and Elizabeth enjoyed six happy years in Heidelberg. The prince enlarged the pink, sandstone castle for his wife, adding a suite of ten rooms — ‘the English wing’ — to welcome her to her new home. The castle’s floors were made of porphyry, while the cornices were inlaid with gems. Elizabeth’s drawing room was hung with silver decorations, against a background of white marble. The library, with its priceless codices, housed one of the greatest book collections in Europe.

Outside, the Electress’s passion for animals found expression in a monkey-house and a generously proportioned menagerie. The palace garden, the Tiortus Palatinatus’, was famous throughout the Continent, delighting visitors with its system of fountains, its fine statues, and its intricate network of flowerbeds. When an heir, Frederick Henry, was born, Frederick showed his delight by planting an extension to the garden under his wife’s bedroom window: it was laid out with English flowers, to remind the princess of home. Two more children quickly appeared, Elizabeth and Charles Louis, before she fell pregnant with Rupert.

*

The Palatine shared a border with Bohemia. In July 1617, Ferdinand of Austria, a Habsburg prince, was appointed king-elect. The crown was supposedly decided by a vote of the Bohemian nobles, but they felt bypassed and believed that Ferdinand had been foisted on them through trickery. The intensity of Ferdinand’s Catholic faith soon became clear: the new king’s daily routine included several hours in religious meditation and attendance at two masses. Ferdinand reneged on previous assurances and brought in a raft of measures to root out Protestantism in Bohemia, including control of the printing presses. To English diplomats, this made him ‘a silly Jesuited soul’,[fn17] but his leading subjects declined to regard his actions with such lightness. Catholic fanaticism had no place in Prague: the city had produced the fifteenth-century martyr Joh...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title Page
• Copyright
• Dedication
• Contents
• Introduction
• Chapter One: Baptism of Fire
• Chapter Two: Childhood
• Chapter Three: Boy Soldier
• Chapter Four: Prisoner of War
• Chapter Five: To His Uncle’s Aid
• Chapter Six: Edgehill
• Chapter Seven: The Curse of Parliament
• Chapter Eight: Faction Fighting
• Chapter Nine: Rushing to Defeat
• Chapter Ten: Commander of the King’s Forces
• Chapter Eleven: No Hope of Better Things
• Chapter Twelve: A Matter of Honour
• Chapter Thirteen: French General
• Chapter Fourteen: General at Sea
• Chapter Fifteen: Pirate Prince
• Chapter Sixteen: Suffering for the Cause
• Chapter Seventeen: Maurice
• Chapter Eighteen: Wilderness Years
• Chapter Nineteen: Restoration
• Chapter Twenty: Man of War
• Chapter Twenty-One: Joint Command
• Chapter Twenty-Two: ‘Sadtroublesome Times’
• Chapter Twenty-Three: The Happiest Old Cur in the Nation
• Chapter Twenty-Four: Windsor Castle
• Chapter Twenty-Five: Hudson’s Bay
• Chapter Twenty-Six: The Wrong Enemy
• Chapter Twenty-Seven: Death of a Cavalier
• Footnotes
• Bibliography
• Author’s Note
• Acknowledgements
• About the Author
• About the Publisher