The chief events of the winter months were the Treaty {163} of Uxbridge, and the forming of the Parliament's new model army. The negotiation of January 1645 was due to Scottish influence, and though many of the Royalists were eager to come to terms, the religious question proved, as always, an insuperable obstacle. Moreover, it was quite impossible for Charles to accept the long list of excepted persons "who shall expect no pardon," which was headed by the names of his own nephews. The Princes themselves appear to have been infinitely amused by the circumstance, for it is recorded by Whitelocke, himself one of the Parliamentary Commissioners: "Prince Rupert and Prince Maurice being present, when their names were read out as excepted persons, they fell into a laughter, at which the King seemed displeased, and bid them be quiet."[27] In spite of this incident, Rupert forwarded the treaty by all means in his power. He had been one of the first to meet the Commissioners on their arrival. They had gone, on the same day, to visit Lord Lindsey, and ten minutes after their entrance Rupert had put in an appearance, privately summoned by their host, as the Commissioners suspected. He had been present at all the discussions of the treaty, occasionally speaking to remind the King of some forgotten point, but otherwise keeping silence;[28] and when the treaty ultimately collapsed, the Prince "deeply deplored" its failure. He understood only too well the weakness of the King's resources, and the growing strength of the Parliament. The new model army, from which all incompetent officers were excluded, and which was to resemble in strength and discipline, Cromwell's own "lovely Company" was rapidly being developed. And as the power of the Parliament waxed, that of the King waned. Goring, brilliant, careless, valiant, and self-indulgent was losing the West by his negligence, and alienating it by his oppressions. Nor were matters much better elsewhere. Maurice had {164} succeeded his brother in the care of Wales and the Marches, though without his title of President. His advent had been eagerly welcomed by the despondent Byron, but he was incompetent to deal with the difficulties that beset him. From Worcester, where he was established, he sent helpless appeals to Rupert for advice and assistance. In January he demanded an enlargement of his commission. "I desire no further latitude than the same from you that you had from the King,"[29] he told his brother discontentedly. He had promised a commission to the gentlemen of Staffordshire, which he had not the power to grant them, "though I would not let them know as much," he confessed, with youthful vanity.[30] Very shortly a serious misfortune befell him in the betrayal of Shrewsbury to the Parliament.--"A disaffected town with only a garrison of burghers, and a doting old fool of a Governor,"[31] it had been called by Byron, whose language was usually forcible.--And Maurice's difficulties were