to contemporary reports, Newcastle taught the prince to ‘ride leaping horses and such as would overthrow others’. 8
On more academic matters, the earl wrote perceptive letters of advice. ‘What you read, I would have it history that so you
might compare the dead with the living; for the same humours is now as was then, there is no alteration but in names.’ 9 The earl’s dry wit may have rubbed off on the boy, for the letter contains something of the cynicism with which the adult
Charles was later to view his fellow creatures.
In 1641, having spent £40,000 of his own money running the prince’s court, the earl decided the honour of being governor to
the prince was one he could no longer shoulder. The dubious honour was handed on to the equally grand Marquis of Hertford,
a bookish man with no interest in outdoor pursuits and none whatever in passing on his considerable wealth of knowledge. Like
Newcastle, he carried out his task largely by remote control and lasted two years in the job. The prince thus had an easy-going
upbringing, with a personal tutor and various ladies of the court for company and a few friends of his own age such as the
sons of the Duke of Buckingham. It was a life with a little culture, a little academic effort, a little learning of field
pursuits and a great deal of pleasure.
Charles was growing up to be a confident if moody boy who was, like his father, an accomplished horseman. When war broke out,
his education took a practical turn with first-hand observation of the many sides of humanity under stress – the weaknesses,
the prevarications, the bravery, self-interest, shrewdness and more.
For the battle at Edgehill, the young prince was given the purely honorary command of a cavalry regiment. The king’s physician,
William Harvey (famous for having discovered the circulation of blood), was put in charge of young Charles and his brother.
As the fight progressed, Harvey forgot about his charges, who were placed ata field medical station. When the parliamentary forces attacked the right flank of the royalist army, the Prince of Wales
took his command seriously and tried to lead a charge, shouting ‘I fear them not!’ He was prevented from heading into battle
by members of the royal party who grabbed his horse’s reins. When the parliamentary forces seized an advantage and pushed
through the flank of the royalist army, Charles and his brother were in great danger of being captured. Once more, quick action
directed the princes away from the fighting and prevented a disaster.
As for Ludlow and his fellow life guards, they made something of a hash of their first military action. By the end of the
day, thanks to tactical blunders on both sides, the battle was inconclusive. War would drag on for six more years. The heir
to the throne would find himself experiencing a great deal very quickly, though after his spirited action at Edgehill, in
future he was kept well away from the scene of combat.
In early 1645, Charles I made his eldest son commander-in-chief of all royalist forces in the West Country. This meant that
he would now be separated from his father. He was just turning fifteen. The campaign in the west was in turmoil but the king
hoped the nominal title of command would help his son grow to manhood. This it most certainly did, in more ways than one.
In the spring, the prince and his council moved to the royalist stronghold of Bridgwater in Somerset. Here, Charles was reunited
with his former governess, the beautiful and pushy Christabella Wyndham. According to a contemporary account, Charles was
‘diverted by her folly and petulancy’. Even when the company surrounding the prince was most numerous, Christabella would
‘run the length of the room and kiss him’. 10 There were rumours the beautiful ex-governess introduced the prince to the joys of sex. The fun and games did not last long;
the war was running against the royal cause.