When the great conflict broke out between King and Parliament, he threw himself into it, without zest and without conviction, embracing the cause of the malcontents with a total lack of enthusiasm, merely out of disappointment—­out of hatred for the brilliant Court and circle in which he had once hoped to become a prominent figure.

He fought under Ireton, was commended as a fairly good soldier, though too rebellious to be very reliable, too self-willed to be wholly trusted.

Even in these days of brilliant reputations quickly made, he remained obscure and practically unnoticed.  Advancement never came his way and whilst younger men succeeded in attracting the observant eye of old Noll, he was superseded at every turn, passed over—­anon forgotten.

When my Lord Protector’s entourage was formed, the Household organized, no one thought of the Sparrowhawk for any post that would have satisfied his desires.  Once more he cursed his own poverty.  Money—­the want of it—­he felt was at the root of all his disappointments.  A burning desire to obtain it at any cost, even that of honor, filled his entire being, his mind, his soul, his thoughts, every nerve in his body.  Money, and social prestige!  To be somebody at Court or elsewhere, politically, commercially,—­he cared not.  To handle money and to command attention!

He became wary, less reckless, striving to obtain by diplomatic means that which he had once hoped to snatch by sheer force of personality.  The Court of Chancery having instituted itself sole guardian and administrator of the revenues and fortunes of minors whose fathers had fought on the Royalist side, and were either dead or in exile, and arrogating unto itself the power to place such minors under the tutelage of persons whose loyalty to the Commonwealth was undoubted, Sir Marmaduke bethought himself of applying for one of these official guardianships which were known to be very lucrative and moreover, practically sinecures.

Fate for once favored him; a half-contemptuous desire to do something for this out-at-elbows Kentish squire who had certainly been a loyal adherent of the Commonwealth, caused my Lord Protector to favor his application.  The rich daughter of the Marquis of Dover was placed under the guardianship of Sir Marmaduke de Chavasse with an allowance of L4,000 a year for her maintenance, until she came of age.  A handsome fortune and stroke of good luck for a wise and prudent man:—­a drop in an ocean of debts, difficulties and expensive tastes, in the case of Sir Marmaduke.

A prolonged visit to London with a view either of gaining a foothold in the new Court, or of drawing the attention of the malcontents, of Monk and his party, or even of the Royalists, to himself, resulted in further debts, in more mortgages, more bitter disappointments.

The man himself did not please.  His personality was unsympathetic; Lady Sue’s money which he now lavished right and left, bought neither friendship nor confidence.  He joined all the secret clubs which in defiance of Cromwell’s rigid laws against betting and gambling, were the resort of all the smart gentlemen in the town.  Ill-luck at hazard and dice pursued him:  he was a bad loser, quarrelsome and surly.  His ambition had not taught him the salutary lesson of how to make friends in order to attain his desires.