Another Colonel denied strenuously an accusation of oppression which had excited Rupert's anger against him.[26] That the failure at Edgehill was due to the greed of Rupert's men in plundering the baggage waggons, was an imputation which the Prince hotly resented. To his announcement that he could, "at least, give a good account of the enemy's horse," a bystander retorted: "And of their carts too!"[27] Whereupon the Prince drew his sword, and {66} there was nearly a duel in the King's presence. The idea that he enriched himself by plunder is too absurd to need refutation; yet, were it needed, proof to the contrary might be found in a letter written at the end of the war, which draws a painful picture of Rupert's extreme poverty.[28] For the rest, the Prince regarded the enemy with a soldierly chivalry. Instances of his courtesy are not wanting, and in all matters of honour he was most punctilious. "The Prince," said one of his officers, "uses to make good his word, not only in point of honour, but as a matter of religion too."[29] Thus, when his men snatched the colours of an enemy promised a safe passage, "some of them felt the edge of his sword," and the colours were courteously returned. To his honourable conduct, under similar circumstances at Bristol, the Puritan Governor bore generous testimony.[30] But personal gallantry, promptitude, and ubiquity were far from being Rupert's only qualifications for his post. He understood, as he himself phrased it, "what belongs to war." His tactics were of the school of the great Gustavus, and he abolished the absurd custom of letting the cavalry halt to fire, before making a charge. At Edgehill he went from rank to rank, bidding the men to charge at the first word, and thus he formed an irresistible cavalry which never failed to sweep all before it, until it met its match at Marston Moor. His method was thus described by the son of one of his officers: "His way of fighting was that he had a select body of horse that always attended him, and, in every attack, they received the enemy's shot without returning it, but one and all bore with all their force upon their adversaries, till they broke their ranks, and charged quite through them. Then they rallied, and, when the enemy were in disorder, fell upon their rear and slaughtered them, {67} into scarce any opposition."[31] And says Professor Gardiner: "Rupert was as capable of planning a campaign as he was of conducting a charge."[32] Until November 1644, at which period, it should be noted, Rupert's power was on the wane, the strategical superiority was decidedly with the King. The operations of the Royalist army were based on a well-conceived plan, that plan was varied and supplemented as occasion required. This skilful warfare Professor Gardiner ascribes to Rupert's genius. Why then, may we ask, did so good a soldier fail so signally?