When civil war was raging in this country, when King and Parliament were in opposition, when Puritan, Protestant, and Papist sought for mastery, when cavaliers met roundheads in mortal conflict, and every man stood in fear of his neighbour, the Marquis of Worcester could no longer remain a mere student of mechanism and of mathematical problems: if like Archimedes in one sense, he was now seen, unlike him, buckling on his armour, raising troops, and doffing the student's gown to become the soldier. Alas! his military career forms no brilliant page in the annals of his country's history. He was essentially neither a statesman, nor a military man. He was bold, courageous, and energetic, but he could neither be fierce nor ferocious on occasion. He tampered with opponents, lost means of surprise, and was ever being tricked by the cunning and chicanery of adversaries not over-scrupulous in their promises or proceedings. His very goodness of heart, urbanity and uprightness were the sources of his utter ruin. Himself incapable of deceit, he was perpetually being made the victim of it: those who appeared his assured friends, and had every reason to be so, proving in any emergency shallow, empty, and worthless. Flattered by Charles I. he became instrumental in assisting that Prince from his parent's private fortune; and when that was exhausted, the King sapped the property of the son, repaying both with titles, promises, and valueless bonds. He created the Marquis of Worcester Earl of Glamorgan, during his father's life-time; and, inducing him to raise Irish troops to fight against English subjects, he completed the Earl's ruin; for, that untoward enterprise failing, and being followed by the fall of Raglan Castle, and the victories of the Cromwellian army, the Marquis of Worcester had to quit his native land to seek refuge, with many other political refugees, at the Court of France. His wife, who had been residing at Raglan Castle, obtained leave from the Parliament in 1646 to flee to Paris, where the Marquis also arrived in 1648. The Marquis was proscribed both as a Papist and a rebel. Throughout his political career the religion of his father and himself had made many weak-minded men their enemies; but that his loyalty should be considered rebellion was nothing more than might be expected from the dominant party of those troubled times: although undoubtedly the result of that great moral earthquake benefited our nation. His only son, Henry, sat in the Cromwellian Parliament, and this fact may, in part, explain the circumstance that most probably induced the Marquis of Worcester to visit London in 1652; for he must have been well-advised before committing such an apparently rash act. He was immediately incarcerated in the Tower, from which he was released in two years and a quarter, no doubt on his parole, as in 1655 a warrant was signed by Cromwell to pay the Marquis of Worcester the sum of _three pounds per week_ for his maintenance.