BOOK III.

The glorious battle of Leipzig effected a great change in the conduct

of Gustavus Adolphus, as well as in the opinion which both friends and

foes entertained of him. Successfully had he confronted the greatest

general of the age, and had matched the strength of his tactics and the

courage of his Swedes against the elite of the imperial army, the most

experienced troops in Europe. From this moment he felt a firm

confidence in his own powers--self-confidence has always been the parent

of great actions. In all his subsequent operations more boldness and

decision are observable; greater determination, even amidst the most

unfavourable circumstances, a more lofty tone towards his adversaries, a

more dignified bearing towards his allies, and even in his clemency,

something of the forbearance of a conqueror. His natural courage was

farther heightened by the pious ardour of his imagination. He saw in

his own cause that of heaven, and in the defeat of Tilly beheld the

decisive interference of Providence against his enemies, and in himself

the instrument of divine vengeance. Leaving his crown and his country

far behind, he advanced on the wings of victory into the heart of

Germany, which for centuries had seen no foreign conqueror within its

bosom. The warlike spirit of its inhabitants, the vigilance of its

numerous princes, the artful confederation of its states, the number of

its strong castles, its many and broad rivers, had long restrained the

ambition of its neighbours; and frequently as its extensive frontier had

been attacked, its interior had been free from hostile invasion. The

Empire had hitherto enjoyed the equivocal privilege of being its own

enemy, though invincible from without. Even now, it was merely the

disunion of its members, and the intolerance of religious zeal, that

paved the way for the Swedish invader. The bond of union between the

states, which alone had rendered the Empire invincible, was now

dissolved; and Gustavus derived from Germany itself the power by which

he subdued it. With as much courage as prudence, he availed himself of

all that the favourable moment afforded; and equally at home in the

cabinet and the field, he tore asunder the web of the artful policy,

with as much ease, as he shattered walls with the thunder of his cannon.

Uninterruptedly he pursued his conquests from one end of Germany to the

other, without breaking the line of posts which commanded a secure

retreat at any moment; and whether on the banks of the Rhine, or at the

mouth of the Lech, alike maintaining his communication with his

hereditary dominions.

The consternation of the Emperor and the League at Tilly’s defeat at

Leipzig, was scarcely greater than the surprise and embarrassment of the

allies of the King of Sweden at his unexpected success. It was beyond

both their expectations and their wishes. Annihilated in a moment was

that formidable army which, while it checked his progress and set bounds

to his ambition, rendered him in some measure dependent on themselves.

He now stood in the heart of Germany, alone, without a rival or without

an adversary who was a match for him. Nothing could stop his progress,

or check his pretensions, if the intoxication of success should tempt

him to abuse his victory. If formerly they had dreaded the Emperor’s

irresistible power, there was no less cause now to fear every thing for

the Empire, from the violence of a foreign conqueror, and for the

Catholic Church, from the religious zeal of a Protestant king. The

distrust and jealousy of some of the combined powers, which a stronger

fear of the Emperor had for a time repressed, now revived; and scarcely

had Gustavus Adolphus merited, by his courage and success, their

confidence, when they began covertly to circumvent all his plans.

Through a continual struggle with the arts of enemies, and the distrust

of his own allies, must his victories henceforth be won; yet resolution,

penetration, and prudence made their way through all impediments. But

while his success excited the jealousy of his more powerful allies,

France and Saxony, it gave courage to the weaker, and emboldened them

openly to declare their sentiments and join his party. Those who could

neither vie with Gustavus Adolphus in importance, nor suffer from his

ambition, expected the more from the magnanimity of their powerful ally,

who enriched them with the spoils of their enemies, and protected them

against the oppression of their stronger neighbours. His strength

covered their weakness, and, inconsiderable in themselves, they acquired

weight and influence from their union with the Swedish hero. This was

the case with most of the free cities, and particularly with the weaker

Protestant states. It was these that introduced the king into the heart

of Germany; these covered his rear, supplied his troops with

necessaries, received them into their fortresses, while they exposed

their own lives in his battles. His prudent regard to their national

pride, his popular deportment, some brilliant acts of justice, and his

respect for the laws, were so many ties by which he bound the German

Protestants to his cause; while the crying atrocities of the

Imperialists, the Spaniards, and the troops of Lorraine, powerfully

contributed to set his own conduct and that of his army in a favourable

light.

If Gustavus Adolphus owed his success chiefly to his own genius, at the

same time, it must be owned, he was greatly favoured by fortune and by

circumstances. Two great advantages gave him a decided superiority over

the enemy. While he removed the scene of war into the lands of the

League, drew their youth as recruits, enriched himself with booty, and

used the revenues of their fugitive princes as his own, he at once took

from the enemy the means of effectual resistance, and maintained an

expensive war with little cost to himself. And, moreover, while his

opponents, the princes of the League, divided among themselves, and

governed by different and often conflicting interests, acted without

unanimity, and therefore without energy; while their generals were

deficient in authority, their troops in obedience, the operations of

their scattered armies without concert; while the general was separated

from the lawgiver and the statesman; these several functions were united

in Gustavus Adolphus, the only source from which authority flowed, the

sole object to which the eye of the warrior turned; the soul of his

party, the inventor as well as the executor of his plans. In him,

therefore, the Protestants had a centre of unity and harmony, which was

altogether wanting to their opponents. No wonder, then, if favoured by

such advantages, at the head of such an army, with such a genius to

direct it, and guided by such political prudence, Gustavus Adolphus was

irresistible.

With the sword in one hand, and mercy in the other, he traversed Germany

as a conqueror, a lawgiver, and a judge, in as short a time almost as

the tourist of pleasure. The keys of towns and fortresses were

delivered to him, as if to the native sovereign. No fortress was

inaccessible; no river checked his victorious career. He conquered by

the very terror of his name. The Swedish standards were planted along

the whole stream of the Maine: the Lower Palatinate was free, the

troops of Spain and Lorraine had fled across the Rhine and the Moselle.

The Swedes and Hessians poured like a torrent into the territories of

Mentz, of Wurtzburg, and Bamberg, and three fugitive bishops, at a

distance from their sees, suffered dearly for their unfortunate

attachment to the Emperor. It was now the turn for Maximilian, the

leader of the League, to feel in his own dominions the miseries he had

inflicted upon others. Neither the terrible fate of his allies, nor the

peaceful overtures of Gustavus, who, in the midst of conquest, ever held

out the hand of friendship, could conquer the obstinacy of this prince.

The torrent of war now poured into Bavaria. Like the banks of the

Rhine, those of the Lecke and the Donau were crowded with Swedish

troops. Creeping into his fortresses, the defeated Elector abandoned to

the ravages of the foe his dominions, hitherto unscathed by war, and on

which the bigoted violence of the Bavarians seemed to invite

retaliation. Munich itself opened its gates to the invincible monarch,

and the fugitive Palatine, Frederick V., in the forsaken residence of

his rival, consoled himself for a time for the loss of his dominions.

While Gustavus Adolphus was extending his conquests in the south, his

generals and allies were gaining similar triumphs in the other

provinces. Lower Saxony shook off the yoke of Austria, the enemy

abandoned Mecklenburg, and the imperial garrisons retired from the banks

of the Weser and the Elbe. In Westphalia and the Upper Rhine, William,

Landgrave of Hesse, rendered himself formidable; the Duke of Weimar in

Thuringia, and the French in the Electorate of Treves; while to the

eastward the whole kingdom of Bohemia was conquered by the Saxons. The

Turks were preparing to attack Hungary, and in the heart of Austria a

dangerous insurrection was threatened. In vain did the Emperor look

around to the courts of Europe for support; in vain did he summon the

Spaniards to his assistance, for the bravery of the Flemings afforded

them ample employment beyond the Rhine; in vain did he call upon the

Roman court and the whole church to come to his rescue. The offended

Pope sported, in pompous processions and idle anathemas, with the

embarrassments of Ferdinand, and instead of the desired subsidy he was

shown the devastation of Mantua.

On all sides of his extensive monarchy hostile arms surrounded him.

With the states of the League, now overrun by the enemy, those ramparts

were thrown down, behind which Austria had so long defended herself, and

the embers of war were now smouldering upon her unguarded frontiers.

His most zealous allies were disarmed; Maximilian of Bavaria, his

firmest support, was scarce able to defend himself. His armies,

weakened by desertion and repeated defeat, and dispirited by continued

misfortunes had unlearnt, under beaten generals, that warlike

impetuosity which, as it is the consequence, so it is the guarantee of

success. The danger was extreme, and extraordinary means alone could

raise the imperial power from the degradation into which it was fallen.

The most urgent want was that of a general; and the only one from whom

he could hope for the revival of his former splendour, had been removed

from his command by an envious cabal. So low had the Emperor now

fallen, that he was forced to make the most humiliating proposals to his

injured subject and servant, and meanly to press upon the imperious Duke

of Friedland the acceptance of the powers which no less meanly had been

taken from him. A new spirit began from this moment to animate the

expiring body of Austria; and a sudden change in the aspect of affairs

bespoke the firm hand which guided them. To the absolute King of

Sweden, a general equally absolute was now opposed; and one victorious

hero was confronted with another. Both armies were again to engage in

the doubtful struggle; and the prize of victory, already almost secured

in the hands of Gustavus Adolphus, was to be the object of another and a

severer trial. The storm of war gathered around Nuremberg; before its

walls the hostile armies encamped; gazing on each other with dread and

respect, longing for, and yet shrinking from, the moment that was to

close them together in the shock of battle. The eyes of Europe turned

to the scene in curiosity and alarm, while Nuremberg, in dismay,

expected soon to lend its name to a more decisive battle than that of

Leipzig. Suddenly the clouds broke, and the storm rolled away from

Franconia, to burst upon the plains of Saxony. Near Lutzen fell the

thunder that had menaced Nuremberg; the victory, half lost, was

purchased by the death of the king. Fortune, which had never forsaken

him in his lifetime, favoured the King of Sweden even in his death, with

the rare privilege of falling in the fulness of his glory and an

untarnished fame. By a timely death, his protecting genius rescued him

from the inevitable fate of man--that of forgetting moderation in the

intoxication of success, and justice in the plenitude of power. It may

be doubted whether, had he lived longer, he would still have deserved

the tears which Germany shed over his grave, or maintained his title to

the admiration with which posterity regards him, as the first and only

JUST conqueror that the world has produced. The untimely fall of their

great leader seemed to threaten the ruin of his party; but to the Power

which rules the world, no loss of a single man is irreparable. As the

helm of war dropped from the hand of the falling hero, it was seized by

two great statesmen, Oxenstiern and Richelieu. Destiny still pursued

its relentless course, and for full sixteen years longer the flames of

war blazed over the ashes of the long-forgotten king and soldier.

I may now be permitted to take a cursory retrospect of Gustavus Adolphus

in his victorious career; glance at the scene in which he alone was the

great actor; and then, when Austria becomes reduced to extremity by the

successes of the Swedes, and by a series of disasters is driven to the

most humiliating and desperate expedients, to return to the history of

the Emperor.

As soon as the plan of operations had been concerted at Halle, between

the King of Sweden and the Elector of Saxony; as soon as the alliance

had been concluded with the neighbouring princes of Weimar and Anhalt,

and preparations made for the recovery of the bishopric of Magdeburg,

the king began his march into the empire. He had here no despicable foe

to contend with. Within the empire, the Emperor was still powerful;

throughout Franconia, Swabia, and the Palatinate, imperial garrisons

were posted, with whom the possession of every place of importance must

be disputed sword in hand. On the Rhine he was opposed by the

Spaniards, who had overrun the territory of the banished Elector

Palatine, seized all its strong places, and would everywhere dispute

with him the passage over that river. On his rear was Tilly, who was

fast recruiting his force, and would soon be joined by the auxiliaries

from Lorraine. Every Papist presented an inveterate foe, while his

connexion with France did not leave him at liberty to act with freedom

against the Roman Catholics. Gustavus had foreseen all these obstacles,

but at the same time the means by which they were to be overcome. The

strength of the Imperialists was broken and divided among different

garrisons, while he would bring against them one by one his whole united

force. If he was to be opposed by the fanaticism of the Roman

Catholics, and the awe in which the lesser states regarded the Emperor’s

power, he might depend on the active support of the Protestants, and

their hatred to Austrian oppression. The ravages of the Imperialist and

Spanish troops also powerfully aided him in these quarters; where the

ill-treated husbandman and citizen sighed alike for a deliverer, and

where the mere change of yoke seemed to promise a relief. Emissaries

were despatched to gain over to the Swedish side the principal free

cities, particularly Nuremberg and Frankfort. The first that lay in the

king’s march, and which he could not leave unoccupied in his rear, was

Erfurt. Here the Protestant party among the citizens opened to him,

without a blow, the gates of the town and the citadel. From the

inhabitants of this, as of every important place which afterwards

submitted, he exacted an oath of allegiance, while he secured its

possession by a sufficient garrison. To his ally, Duke William of

Weimar, he intrusted the command of an army to be raised in Thuringia.

He also left his queen in Erfurt, and promised to increase its

privileges. The Swedish army now crossed the Thuringian forest in two

columns, by Gotha and Arnstadt, and having delivered, in its march, the

county of Henneberg from the Imperialists, formed a junction on the

third day near Koenigshofen, on the frontiers of Franconia.

Francis, Bishop of Wurtzburg, the bitter enemy of the Protestants, and

the most zealous member of the League, was the first to feel the

indignation of Gustavus Adolphus. A few threats gained for the Swedes

possession of his fortress of Koenigshofen, and with it the key of the

whole province. At the news of this rapid conquest, dismay seized all

the Roman Catholic towns of the circle. The Bishops of Wurtzburg and

Bamberg trembled in their castles; they already saw their sees

tottering, their churches profaned, and their religion degraded. The

malice of his enemies had circulated the most frightful representations

of the persecuting spirit and the mode of warfare pursued by the Swedish

king and his soldiers, which neither the repeated assurances of the

king, nor the most splendid examples of humanity and toleration, ever

entirely effaced. Many feared to suffer at the hands of another what in

similar circumstances they were conscious of inflicting themselves.

Many of the richest Roman Catholics hastened to secure by flight their

property, their religion, and their persons, from the sanguinary

fanaticism of the Swedes. The bishop himself set the example. In the

midst of the alarm, which his bigoted zeal had caused, he abandoned his

dominions, and fled to Paris, to excite, if possible, the French

ministry against the common enemy of religion.

The further progress of Gustavus Adolphus in the ecclesiastical

territories agreed with this brilliant commencement. Schweinfurt, and

soon afterwards Wurtzburg, abandoned by their Imperial garrisons,

surrendered; but Marienberg he was obliged to carry by storm. In this

place, which was believed to be impregnable, the enemy had collected a

large store of provisions and ammunition, all of which fell into the

hands of the Swedes. The king found a valuable prize in the library of

the Jesuits, which he sent to Upsal, while his soldiers found a still

more agreeable one in the prelate’s well-filled cellars; his treasures

the bishop had in good time removed. The whole bishopric followed the

example of the capital, and submitted to the Swedes. The king compelled

all the bishop’s subjects to swear allegiance to himself; and, in the

absence of the lawful sovereign, appointed a regency, one half of whose

members were Protestants. In every Roman Catholic town which Gustavus

took, he opened the churches to the Protestant people, but without

retaliating on the Papists the cruelties which they had practised on the

former. On such only as sword in hand refused to submit, were the

fearful rights of war enforced; and for the occasional acts of violence

committed by a few of the more lawless soldiers, in the blind rage of

the first attack, their humane leader is not justly responsible. Those

who were peaceably disposed, or defenceless, were treated with mildness.

It was a sacred principle of Gustavus to spare the blood of his enemies,

as well as that of his own troops.

On the first news of the Swedish irruption, the Bishop of Wurtzburg,

without regarding the treaty which he had entered into with the King of

Sweden, had earnestly pressed the general of the League to hasten to the

assistance of the bishopric. That defeated commander had, in the mean

time, collected on the Weser the shattered remnant of his army,

reinforced himself from the garrisons of Lower Saxony, and effected a

junction in Hesse with Altringer and Fugger, who commanded under him.

Again at the head of a considerable force, Tilly burned with impatience

to wipe out the stain of his first defeat by a splendid victory. From

his camp at Fulda, whither he had marched with his army, he earnestly

requested permission from the Duke of Bavaria to give battle to Gustavus

Adolphus. But, in the event of Tilly’s defeat, the League had no second

army to fall back upon, and Maximilian was too cautious to risk again

the fate of his party on a single battle. With tears in his eyes, Tilly

read the commands of his superior, which compelled him to inactivity.

Thus his march to Franconia was delayed, and Gustavus Adolphus gained

time to overrun the whole bishopric. It was in vain that Tilly,

reinforced at Aschaffenburg by a body of 12,000 men from Lorraine,

marched with an overwhelming force to the relief of Wurtzburg. The town

and citadel were already in the hands of the Swedes, and Maximilian of

Bavaria was generally blamed (and not without cause, perhaps) for

having, by his scruples, occasioned the loss of the bishopric.

Commanded to avoid a battle, Tilly contented himself with checking the

farther advance of the enemy; but he could save only a few of the towns

from the impetuosity of the Swedes. Baffled in an attempt to reinforce

the weak garrison of Hanau, which it was highly important to the Swedes

to gain, he crossed the Maine, near Seligenstadt, and took the direction

of the Bergstrasse, to protect the Palatinate from the conqueror.

Tilly, however, was not the sole enemy whom Gustavus Adolphus met in

Franconia, and drove before him. Charles, Duke of Lorraine, celebrated

in the annals of the time for his unsteadiness of character, his vain

projects, and his misfortunes, ventured to raise a weak arm against the

Swedish hero, in the hope of obtaining from the Emperor the electoral

dignity. Deaf to the suggestions of a rational policy, he listened only

to the dictates of heated ambition; by supporting the Emperor, he

exasperated France, his formidable neighbour; and in the pursuit of a

visionary phantom in another country, left undefended his own dominions,

which were instantly overrun by a French army. Austria willingly

conceded to him, as well as to the other princes of the League, the

honour of being ruined in her cause. Intoxicated with vain hopes, this

prince collected a force of 17,000 men, which he proposed to lead in

person against the Swedes. If these troops were deficient in discipline

and courage, they were at least attractive by the splendour of their

accoutrements; and however sparing they were of their prowess against

the foe, they were liberal enough with it against the defenceless

citizens and peasantry, whom they were summoned to defend. Against the

bravery, and the formidable discipline of the Swedes this splendidly

attired army, however, made no long stand. On the first advance of the

Swedish cavalry a panic seized them, and they were driven without

difficulty from their cantonments in Wurtzburg; the defeat of a few

regiments occasioned a general rout, and the scattered remnant sought a

covert from the Swedish valour in the towns beyond the Rhine. Loaded

with shame and ridicule, the duke hurried home by Strasburg, too

fortunate in escaping, by a submissive written apology, the indignation

of his conqueror, who had first beaten him out of the field, and then

called upon him to account for his hostilities. It is related upon this

occasion that, in a village on the Rhine a peasant struck the horse of

the duke as he rode past, exclaiming, “Haste, Sir, you must go quicker

to escape the great King of Sweden!”

The example of his neighbours’ misfortunes had taught the Bishop of

Bamberg prudence. To avert the plundering of his territories, he made

offers of peace, though these were intended only to delay the king’s

course till the arrival of assistance. Gustavus Adolphus, too

honourable himself to suspect dishonesty in another, readily accepted

the bishop’s proposals, and named the conditions on which he was willing

to save his territories from hostile treatment. He was the more

inclined to peace, as he had no time to lose in the conquest of Bamberg,

and his other designs called him to the Rhine. The rapidity with which

he followed up these plans, cost him the loss of those pecuniary

supplies which, by a longer residence in Franconia, he might easily have

extorted from the weak and terrified bishop. This artful prelate broke

off the negotiation the instant the storm of war passed away from his

own territories. No sooner had Gustavus marched onwards than he threw

himself under the protection of Tilly, and received the troops of the

Emperor into the very towns and fortresses, which shortly before he had

shown himself ready to open to the Swedes. By this stratagem, however,

he only delayed for a brief interval the ruin of his bishopric. A

Swedish general who had been left in Franconia, undertook to punish the

perfidy of the bishop; and the ecclesiastical territory became the seat

of war, and was ravaged alike by friends and foes.

The formidable presence of the Imperialists had hitherto been a check

upon the Franconian States; but their retreat, and the humane conduct of

the Swedish king, emboldened the nobility and other inhabitants of this

circle to declare in his favour. Nuremberg joyfully committed itself to

his protection; and the Franconian nobles were won to his cause by

flattering proclamations, in which he condescended to apologize for his

hostile appearance in the dominions. The fertility of Franconia, and

the rigorous honesty of the Swedish soldiers in their dealings with the

inhabitants, brought abundance to the camp of the king. The high esteem

which the nobility of the circle felt for Gustavus, the respect and

admiration with which they regarded his brilliant exploits, the promises

of rich booty which the service of this monarch held out, greatly

facilitated the recruiting of his troops; a step which was made

necessary by detaching so many garrisons from the main body. At the

sound of his drums, recruits flocked to his standard from all quarters.

The king had scarcely spent more time in conquering Franconia, than he

would have required to cross it. He now left behind him Gustavus Horn,

one of his best generals, with a force of 8,000 men, to complete and

retain his conquest. He himself with his main army, reinforced by the

late recruits, hastened towards the Rhine in order to secure this

frontier of the empire from the Spaniards; to disarm the ecclesiastical

electors, and to obtain from their fertile territories new resources for

the prosecution of the war. Following the course of the Maine, he

subjected, in the course of his march, Seligenstadt, Aschaffenburg,

Steinheim, the whole territory on both sides of the river. The imperial

garrisons seldom awaited his approach, and never attempted resistance.

In the meanwhile one of his colonels had been fortunate enough to take

by surprise the town and citadel of Hanau, for whose preservation Tilly

had shown such anxiety. Eager to be free of the oppressive burden of

the Imperialists, the Count of Hanau gladly placed himself under the

milder yoke of the King of Sweden.

Gustavus Adolphus now turned his whole attention to Frankfort, for it

was his constant maxim to cover his rear by the friendship and

possession of the more important towns. Frankfort was among the free

cities which, even from Saxony, he had endeavoured to prepare for his

reception; and he now called upon it, by a summons from Offenbach, to

allow him a free passage, and to admit a Swedish garrison. Willingly

would this city have dispensed with the necessity of choosing between

the King of Sweden and the Emperor; for, whatever party they might

embrace, the inhabitants had a like reason to fear for their privileges

and trade. The Emperor’s vengeance would certainly fall heavily upon

them, if they were in a hurry to submit to the King of Sweden, and

afterwards he should prove unable to protect his adherents in Germany.

But still more ruinous for them would be the displeasure of an

irresistible conqueror, who, with a formidable army, was already before

their gates, and who might punish their opposition by the ruin of their

commerce and prosperity. In vain did their deputies plead the danger

which menaced their fairs, their privileges, perhaps their constitution

itself, if, by espousing the party of the Swedes, they were to incur the

Emperor’s displeasure. Gustavus Adolphus expressed to them his

astonishment that, when the liberties of Germany and the Protestant

religion were at stake, the citizens of Frankfort should talk of their

annual fairs, and postpone for temporal interests the great cause of

their country and their conscience. He had, he continued, in a menacing

tone, found the keys of every town and fortress, from the Isle of Rugen

to the Maine, and knew also where to find a key to Frankfort; the safety

of Germany, and the freedom of the Protestant Church, were, he assured

them, the sole objects of his invasion; conscious of the justice of his

cause, he was determined not to allow any obstacle to impede his

progress. “The inhabitants of Frankfort, he was well aware, wished to

stretch out only a finger to him, but he must have the whole hand in

order to have something to grasp.” At the head of the army, he closely

followed the deputies as they carried back his answer, and in order of

battle awaited, near Saxenhausen, the decision of the council.

If Frankfort hesitated to submit to the Swedes, it was solely from fear

of the Emperor; their own inclinations did not allow them a moment to

doubt between the oppressor of Germany and its protector. The menacing

preparations amidst which Gustavus Adolphus now compelled them to

decide, would lessen the guilt of their revolt in the eyes of the

Emperor, and by an appearance of compulsion justify the step which they

willingly took. The gates were therefore opened to the King of Sweden,

who marched his army through this imperial town in magnificent

procession, and in admirable order. A garrison of 600 men was left in

Saxenhausen; while the king himself advanced the same evening, with the

rest of his army, against the town of Hoechst in Mentz, which

surrendered to him before night.

While Gustavus was thus extending his conquests along the Maine, fortune

crowned also the efforts of his generals and allies in the north of

Germany. Rostock, Wismar, and Doemitz, the only strong places in the

Duchy of Mecklenburg which still sighed under the yoke of the

Imperialists, were recovered by their legitimate sovereign, the Duke

John Albert, under the Swedish general, Achatius Tott. In vain did the

imperial general, Wolf Count von Mansfeld, endeavour to recover from the

Swedes the territories of Halberstadt, of which they had taken

possession immediately upon the victory of Leipzig; he was even

compelled to leave Magdeburg itself in their hands. The Swedish

general, Banner, who with 8,000 men remained upon the Elbe, closely

blockaded that city, and had defeated several imperial regiments which

had been sent to its relief. Count Mansfeld defended it in person with

great resolution; but his garrison being too weak to oppose for any

length of time the numerous force of the besiegers, he was already about

to surrender on conditions, when Pappenheim advanced to his assistance,

and gave employment elsewhere to the Swedish arms. Magdeburg, however,

or rather the wretched huts that peeped out miserably from among the

ruins of that once great town, was afterwards voluntarily abandoned by

the Imperialists, and immediately taken possession of by the Swedes.

Even Lower Saxony, encouraged by the progress of the king, ventured to

raise its head from the disasters of the unfortunate Danish war. They

held a congress at Hamburg, and resolved upon raising three regiments,

which they hoped would be sufficient to free them from the oppressive

garrisons of the Imperialists. The Bishop of Bremen, a relation of

Gustavus Adolphus, was not content even with this; but assembled troops

of his own, and terrified the unfortunate monks and priests of the

neighbourhood, but was quickly compelled by the imperial general, Count

Gronsfeld, to lay down his arms. Even George, Duke of Lunenburg,

formerly a colonel in the Emperor’s service, embraced the party of

Gustavus, for whom he raised several regiments, and by occupying the

attention of the Imperialists in Lower Saxony, materially assisted him.

But more important service was rendered to the king by the Landgrave

William of Hesse Cassel, whose victorious arms struck with terror the

greater part of Westphalia and Lower Saxony, the bishopric of Fulda, and

even the Electorate of Cologne. It has been already stated that

immediately after the conclusion of the alliance between the Landgrave

and Gustavus Adolphus at Werben, two imperial generals, Fugger and

Altringer, were ordered by Tilly to march into Hesse, to punish the

Landgrave for his revolt from the Emperor. But this prince had as

firmly withstood the arms of his enemies, as his subjects had the

proclamations of Tilly inciting them to rebellion, and the battle of

Leipzig presently relieved him of their presence. He availed himself of

their absence with courage and resolution; in a short time, Vach,

Muenden and Hoexter surrendered to him, while his rapid advance alarmed

the bishoprics of Fulda, Paderborn, and the ecclesiastical territories

which bordered on Hesse. The terrified states hastened by a speedy

submission to set limits to his progress, and by considerable

contributions to purchase exemption from plunder. After these

successful enterprises, the Landgrave united his victorious army with

that of Gustavus Adolphus, and concerted with him at Frankfort their

future plan of operations.

In this city, a number of princes and ambassadors were assembled to

congratulate Gustavus on his success, and either to conciliate his

favour or to appease his indignation. Among them was the fugitive King

of Bohemia, the Palatine Frederick V., who had hastened from Holland to

throw himself into the arms of his avenger and protector. Gustavus gave

him the unprofitable honour of greeting him as a crowned head, and

endeavoured, by a respectful sympathy, to soften his sense of his

misfortunes. But great as the advantages were, which Frederick had

promised himself from the power and good fortune of his protector; and

high as were the expectations he had built on his justice and

magnanimity, the chance of this unfortunate prince’s reinstatement in

his kingdom was as distant as ever. The inactivity and contradictory

politics of the English court had abated the zeal of Gustavus Adolphus,

and an irritability which he could not always repress, made him on this

occasion forget the glorious vocation of protector of the oppressed, in

which, on his invasion of Germany, he had so loudly announced himself.

The terrors of the king’s irresistible strength, and the near prospect

of his vengeance, had also compelled George, Landgrave of Hesse

Darmstadt, to a timely submission. His connection with the Emperor, and

his indifference to the Protestant cause, were no secret to the king,

but he was satisfied with laughing at so impotent an enemy. As the

Landgrave knew his own strength and the political situation of Germany

so little, as to offer himself as mediator between the contending

parties, Gustavus used jestingly to call him the peacemaker. He was

frequently heard to say, when at play he was winning from the Landgrave,

“that the money afforded double satisfaction, as it was Imperial coin.”

To his affinity with the Elector of Saxony, whom Gustavus had cause to

treat with forbearance, the Landgrave was indebted for the favourable

terms he obtained from the king, who contented himself with the

surrender of his fortress of Russelheim, and his promise of observing a

strict neutrality during the war. The Counts of Westerwald and Wetteran

also visited the King in Frankfort, to offer him their assistance

against the Spaniards, and to conclude an alliance, which was afterwards

of great service to him. The town of Frankfort itself had reason to

rejoice at the presence of this monarch, who took their commerce under

his protection, and by the most effectual measures restored the fairs,

which had been greatly interrupted by the war.

The Swedish army was now reinforced by ten thousand Hessians, which the

Landgrave of Casse commanded. Gustavus Adolphus had already invested

Koenigstein; Kostheim and Floersheim surrendered after a short siege; he

was in command of the Maine; and transports were preparing with all

speed at Hoechst to carry his troops across the Rhine. These

preparations filled the Elector of Mentz, Anselm Casimir, with

consternation; and he no longer doubted but that the storm of war would

next fall upon him. As a partisan of the Emperor, and one of the most

active members of the League, he could expect no better treatment than

his confederates, the Bishops of Wurtzburg and Bamberg, had already

experienced. The situation of his territories upon the Rhine made it

necessary for the enemy to secure them, while the fertility afforded an

irresistible temptation to a necessitous army. Miscalculating his own

strength and that of his adversaries, the Elector flattered himself that

he was able to repel force by force, and weary out the valour of the

Swedes by the strength of his fortresses. He ordered the fortifications

of his capital to be repaired with all diligence, provided it with every

necessary for sustaining a long siege, and received into the town a

garrison of 2,000 Spaniards, under Don Philip de Sylva. To prevent the

approach of the Swedish transports, he endeavoured to close the mouth of

the Maine by driving piles, and sinking large heaps of stones and

vessels. He himself, however, accompanied by the Bishop of Worms, and

carrying with him his most precious effects, took refuge in Cologne, and

abandoned his capital and territories to the rapacity of a tyrannical

garrison. But these preparations, which bespoke less of true courage

than of weak and overweening confidence, did not prevent the Swedes from

marching against Mentz, and making serious preparations for an attack

upon the city. While one body of their troops poured into the Rheingau,

routed the Spaniards who remained there, and levied contributions on the

inhabitants, another laid the Roman Catholic towns in Westerwald and

Wetterau under similar contributions. The main army had encamped at

Cassel, opposite Mentz; and Bernhard, Duke of Weimar, made himself

master of the Maeusethurm and the Castle of Ehrenfels, on the other side

of the Rhine. Gustavus was now actively preparing to cross the river,

and to blockade the town on the land side, when the movements of Tilly

in Franconia suddenly called him from the siege, and obtained for the

Elector a short repose.

The danger of Nuremberg, which, during the absence of Gustavus Adolphus

on the Rhine, Tilly had made a show of besieging, and, in the event of

resistance, threatened with the cruel fate of Magdeburg, occasioned the

king suddenly to retire from before Mentz. Lest he should expose

himself a second time to the reproaches of Germany, and the disgrace of

abandoning a confederate city to a ferocious enemy, he hastened to its

relief by forced marches. On his arrival at Frankfort, however, he

heard of its spirited resistance, and of the retreat of Tilly, and lost

not a moment in prosecuting his designs against Mentz. Failing in an

attempt to cross the Rhine at Cassel, under the cannon of the besieged,

he directed his march towards the Bergstrasse, with a view of

approaching the town from an opposite quarter. Here he quickly made

himself master of all the places of importance, and at Stockstadt,

between Gernsheim and Oppenheim, appeared a second time upon the banks

of the Rhine. The whole of the Bergstrasse was abandoned by the

Spaniards, who endeavoured obstinately to defend the other bank of the

river. For this purpose, they had burned or sunk all the vessels in the

neighbourhood, and arranged a formidable force on the banks, in case the

king should attempt the passage at that place.

On this occasion, the king’s impetuosity exposed him to great danger of

falling into the hands of the enemy. In order to reconnoitre the

opposite bank, he crossed the river in a small boat; he had scarcely

landed when he was attacked by a party of Spanish horse, from whose

hands he only saved himself by a precipitate retreat. Having at last,

with the assistance of the neighbouring fishermen, succeeded in

procuring a few transports, he despatched two of them across the river,

bearing Count Brahe and 300 Swedes. Scarcely had this officer time to

entrench himself on the opposite bank, when he was attacked by 14

squadrons of Spanish dragoons and cuirassiers. Superior as the enemy

was in number, Count Brahe, with his small force, bravely defended

himself, and gained time for the king to support him with fresh troops.

The Spaniards at last retired with the loss of 600 men, some taking

refuge in Oppenheim, and others in Mentz. A lion of marble on a high

pillar, holding a naked sword in his paw, and a helmet on his head, was

erected seventy years after the event, to point out to the traveller the

spot where the immortal monarch crossed the great river of Germany.

Gustavus Adolphus now conveyed his artillery and the greater part of his

troops over the river, and laid siege to Oppenheim, which, after a brave

resistance, was, on the 8th December, 1631, carried by storm. Five

hundred Spaniards, who had so courageously defended the place, fell

indiscriminately a sacrifice to the fury of the Swedes. The crossing of

the Rhine by Gustavus struck terror into the Spaniards and Lorrainers,

who had thought themselves protected by the river from the vengeance of

the Swedes. Rapid flight was now their only security; every place

incapable of an effectual defence was immediately abandoned. After a

long train of outrages on the defenceless citizens, the troops of

Lorraine evacuated Worms, which, before their departure, they treated

with wanton cruelty. The Spaniards hastened to shut themselves up in

Frankenthal, where they hoped to defy the victorious arms of Gustavus

Adolphus.

The king lost no time in prosecuting his designs against Mentz, into

which the flower of the Spanish troops had thrown themselves. While he

advanced on the left bank of the Rhine, the Landgrave of Hesse Cassel

moved forward on the other, reducing several strong places on his march.

The besieged Spaniards, though hemmed in on both sides, displayed at

first a bold determination, and threw, for several days, a shower of

bombs into the Swedish camp, which cost the king many of his bravest

soldiers. But notwithstanding, the Swedes continually gained ground,

and had at last advanced so close to the ditch that they prepared

seriously for storming the place. The courage of the besieged now began

to droop. They trembled before the furious impetuosity of the Swedish

soldiers, of which Marienberg, in Wurtzburg, had afforded so fearful an

example. The same dreadful fate awaited Mentz, if taken by storm; and

the enemy might even be easily tempted to revenge the carnage of

Magdeburg on this rich and magnificent residence of a Roman Catholic

prince. To save the town, rather than their own lives, the Spanish

garrison capitulated on the fourth day, and obtained from the

magnanimity of Gustavus a safe conduct to Luxembourg; the greater part

of them, however, following the example of many others, enlisted in the

service of Sweden.

On the 13th December, 1631, the king made his entry into the conquered

town, and fixed his quarters in the palace of the Elector. Eighty

pieces of cannon fell into his hands, and the citizens were obliged to

redeem their property from pillage, by a payment of 80,000 florins. The

benefits of this redemption did not extend to the Jews and the clergy,

who were obliged to make large and separate contributions for

themselves. The library of the Elector was seized by the king as his

share, and presented by him to his chancellor, Oxenstiern, who intended

it for the Academy of Westerrah, but the vessel in which it was shipped

to Sweden foundered at sea.

After the loss of Mentz, misfortune still pursued the Spaniards on the

Rhine. Shortly before the capture of that city, the Landgrave of Hesse

Cassel had taken Falkenstein and Reifenberg, and the fortress of

Koningstein surrendered to the Hessians. The Rhinegrave, Otto Louis,

one of the king’s generals, defeated nine Spanish squadrons who were on

their march for Frankenthal, and made himself master of the most

important towns upon the Rhine, from Boppart to Bacharach. After the

capture of the fortress of Braunfels, which was effected by the Count of

Wetterau, with the co-operation of the Swedes, the Spaniards quickly

lost every place in Wetterau, while in the Palatinate they retained few

places besides Frankenthal. Landau and Kronweisenberg openly declared

for the Swedes; Spires offered troops for the king’s service; Manheim

was gained through the prudence of the Duke Bernard of Weimar, and the

negligence of its governor, who, for this misconduct, was tried before

the council of war, at Heidelberg, and beheaded.

The king had protracted the campaign into the depth of winter, and the

severity of the season was perhaps one cause of the advantage his

soldiers gained over those of the enemy. But the exhausted troops now

stood in need of the repose of winter quarters, which, after the

surrender of Mentz, Gustavus assigned to them, in its neighbourhood. He

himself employed the interval of inactivity in the field, which the

season of the year enjoined, in arranging, with his chancellor, the

affairs of his cabinet, in treating for a neutrality with some of his

enemies, and adjusting some political disputes which had sprung up with

a neighbouring ally. He chose the city of Mentz for his winter

quarters, and the settlement of these state affairs, and showed a

greater partiality for this town, than seemed consistent with the

interests of the German princes, or the shortness of his visit to the

Empire. Not content with strongly fortifying it, he erected at the

opposite angle which the Maine forms with the Rhine, a new citadel,

which was named Gustavusburg from its founder, but which is better known

under the title of Pfaffenraub or Pfaffenzwang.--[Priests’ plunder;

alluding to the means by which the expense of its erection had been

defrayed.]

While Gustavus Adolphus made himself master of the Rhine, and threatened

the three neighbouring electorates with his victorious arms, his

vigilant enemies in Paris and St. Germain’s made use of every artifice

to deprive him of the support of France, and, if possible, to involve

him in a war with that power. By his sudden and equivocal march to the

Rhine, he had surprised his friends, and furnished his enemies with the

means of exciting a distrust of his intentions. After the conquest of

Wurtzburg, and of the greater part of Franconia, the road into Bavaria

and Austria lay open to him through Bamberg and the Upper Palatinate;

and the expectation was as general, as it was natural, that he would not

delay to attack the Emperor and the Duke of Bavaria in the very centre

of their power, and, by the reduction of his two principal enemies,

bring the war immediately to an end. But to the surprise of both

parties, Gustavus left the path which general expectation had thus

marked out for him; and instead of advancing to the right, turned to the

left, to make the less important and more innocent princes of the Rhine

feel his power, while he gave time to his more formidable opponents to

recruit their strength. Nothing but the paramount design of reinstating

the unfortunate Palatine, Frederick V., in the possession of his

territories, by the expulsion of the Spaniards, could seem to account

for this strange step; and the belief that Gustavus was about to effect

that restoration, silenced for a while the suspicions of his friends and

the calumnies of his enemies. But the Lower Palatinate was now almost

entirely cleared of the enemy; and yet Gustavus continued to form new

schemes of conquest on the Rhine, and to withhold the reconquered

country from the Palatine, its rightful owner. In vain did the English

ambassador remind him of what justice demanded, and what his own solemn

engagement made a duty of honour; Gustavus replied to these demands with

bitter complaints of the inactivity of the English court, and prepared

to carry his victorious standard into Alsace, and even into Lorraine.

A distrust of the Swedish monarch was now loud and open, while the

malice of his enemies busily circulated the most injurious reports as to

his intentions. Richelieu, the minister of Louis XIII., had long

witnessed with anxiety the king’s progress towards the French frontier,

and the suspicious temper of Louis rendered him but too accessible to

the evil surmises which the occasion gave rise to. France was at this

time involved in a civil war with her Protestant subjects, and the fear

was not altogether groundless, that the approach of a victorious monarch

of their party might revive their drooping spirit, and encourage them to

a more desperate resistance. This might be the case, even if Gustavus

Adolphus was far from showing a disposition to encourage them, or to act

unfaithfully towards his ally, the King of France. But the vindictive

Bishop of Wurtzburg, who was anxious to avenge the loss of his

dominions, the envenomed rhetoric of the Jesuits and the active zeal of

the Bavarian minister, represented this dreaded alliance between the

Huguenots and the Swedes as an undoubted fact, and filled the timid mind

of Louis with the most alarming fears. Not merely chimerical

politicians, but many of the best informed Roman Catholics, fully

believed that the king was on the point of breaking into the heart of

France, to make common cause with the Huguenots, and to overturn the

Catholic religion within the kingdom. Fanatical zealots already saw

him, with his army, crossing the Alps, and dethroning the Viceregent of

Christ in Italy. Such reports no doubt soon refute themselves; yet it

cannot be denied that Gustavus, by his manoeuvres on the Rhine, gave a

dangerous handle to the malice of his enemies, and in some measure

justified the suspicion that he directed his arms, not so much against

the Emperor and the Duke of Bavaria, as against the Roman Catholic

religion itself.

The general clamour of discontent which the Jesuits raised in all the

Catholic courts, against the alliance between France and the enemy of

the church, at last compelled Cardinal Richelieu to take a decisive step

for the security of his religion, and at once to convince the Roman

Catholic world of the zeal of France, and of the selfish policy of the

ecclesiastical states of Germany. Convinced that the views of the King

of Sweden, like his own, aimed solely at the humiliation of the power of

Austria, he hesitated not to promise to the princes of the League, on

the part of Sweden, a complete neutrality, immediately they abandoned

their alliance with the Emperor and withdrew their troops. Whatever the

resolution these princes should adopt, Richelieu would equally attain

his object. By their separation from the Austrian interest, Ferdinand

would be exposed to the combined attack of France and Sweden; and

Gustavus Adolphus, freed from his other enemies in Germany, would be

able to direct his undivided force against the hereditary dominions of

Austria. In that event, the fall of Austria was inevitable, and this

great object of Richelieu’s policy would be gained without injury to the

church. If, on the other hand, the princes of the League persisted in

their opposition, and adhered to the Austrian alliance, the result would

indeed be more doubtful, but still France would have sufficiently proved

to all Europe the sincerity of her attachment to the Catholic cause, and

performed her duty as a member of the Roman Church. The princes of the

League would then appear the sole authors of those evils, which the

continuance of the war would unavoidably bring upon the Roman Catholics

of Germany; they alone, by their wilful and obstinate adherence to the

Emperor, would frustrate the measures employed for their protection,

involve the church in danger, and themselves in ruin.

Richelieu pursued this plan with greater zeal, the more he was

embarrassed by the repeated demands of the Elector of Bavaria for

assistance from France; for this prince, as already stated, when he

first began to entertain suspicions of the Emperor, entered immediately

into a secret alliance with France, by which, in the event of any change

in the Emperor’s sentiments, he hoped to secure the possession of the

Palatinate. But though the origin of the treaty clearly showed against

what enemy it was directed, Maximilian now thought proper to make use of

it against the King of Sweden, and did not hesitate to demand from

France that assistance against her ally, which she had simply promised

against Austria. Richelieu, embarrassed by this conflicting alliance

with two hostile powers, had no resource left but to endeavour to put a

speedy termination to their hostilities; and as little inclined to

sacrifice Bavaria, as he was disabled, by his treaty with Sweden, from

assisting it, he set himself, with all diligence, to bring about a

neutrality, as the only means of fulfilling his obligations to both.

For this purpose, the Marquis of Breze was sent, as his plenipotentiary,

to the King of Sweden at Mentz, to learn his sentiments on this point,

and to procure from him favourable conditions for the allied princes.

But if Louis XIII. had powerful motives for wishing for this

neutrality, Gustavus Adolphus had as grave reasons for desiring the

contrary. Convinced by numerous proofs that the hatred of the princes

of the League to the Protestant religion was invincible, their aversion

to the foreign power of the Swedes inextinguishable, and their

attachment to the House of Austria irrevocable, he apprehended less

danger from their open hostility, than from a neutrality which was so

little in unison with their real inclinations; and, moreover, as he was

constrained to carry on the war in Germany at the expense of the enemy,

he manifestly sustained great loss if he diminished their number without

increasing that of his friends. It was not surprising, therefore, if

Gustavus evinced little inclination to purchase the neutrality of the

League, by which he was likely to gain so little, at the expense of the

advantages he had already obtained.

The conditions, accordingly, upon which he offered to adopt the

neutrality towards Bavaria were severe, and suited to these views. He

required of the whole League a full and entire cessation from all

hostilities; the recall of their troops from the imperial army, from the

conquered towns, and from all the Protestant countries; the reduction of

their military force; the exclusion of the imperial armies from their

territories, and from supplies either of men, provisions, or ammunition.

Hard as the conditions were, which the victor thus imposed upon the

vanquished, the French mediator flattered himself he should be able to

induce the Elector of Bavaria to accept them. In order to give time for

an accommodation, Gustavus had agreed to a cessation of hostilities for

a fortnight. But at the very time when this monarch was receiving from

the French agents repeated assurances of the favourable progress of the

negociation, an intercepted letter from the Elector to Pappenheim, the

imperial general in Westphalia, revealed the perfidy of that prince, as

having no other object in view by the whole negociation, than to gain

time for his measures of defence. Far from intending to fetter his

military operations by a truce with Sweden, the artful prince hastened

his preparations, and employed the leisure which his enemy afforded him,

in making the most active dispositions for resistance. The negociation

accordingly failed, and served only to increase the animosity of the

Bavarians and the Swedes.

Tilly’s augmented force, with which he threatened to overrun Franconia,

urgently required the king’s presence in that circle; but it was

necessary to expel previously the Spaniards from the Rhine, and to cut

off their means of invading Germany from the Netherlands. With this

view, Gustavus Adolphus had made an offer of neutrality to the Elector

of Treves, Philip von Zeltern, on condition that the fortress of

Hermanstein should be delivered up to him, and a free passage granted to

his troops through Coblentz. But unwillingly as the Elector had beheld

the Spaniards within his territories, he was still less disposed to

commit his estates to the suspicious protection of a heretic, and to

make the Swedish conqueror master of his destinies. Too weak to

maintain his independence between two such powerful competitors, he took

refuge in the protection of France. With his usual prudence, Richelieu

profited by the embarrassments of this prince to augment the power of

France, and to gain for her an important ally on the German frontier. A

numerous French army was despatched to protect the territory of Treves,

and a French garrison was received into Ehrenbreitstein. But the object

which had moved the Elector to this bold step was not completely gained,

for the offended pride of Gustavus Adolphus was not appeased till he had

obtained a free passage for his troops through Treves.

Pending these negociations with Treves and France, the king’s generals

had entirely cleared the territory of Mentz of the Spanish garrisons,

and Gustavus himself completed the conquest of this district by the

capture of Kreutznach. To protect these conquests, the chancellor

Oxenstiern was left with a division of the army upon the Middle Rhine,

while the main body, under the king himself, began its march against the

enemy in Franconia.

The possession of this circle had, in the mean time, been disputed with

variable success, between Count Tilly and the Swedish General Horn, whom

Gustavus had left there with 8,000 men; and the Bishopric of Bamberg, in

particular, was at once the prize and the scene of their struggle.

Called away to the Rhine by his other projects, the king had left to his

general the chastisement of the bishop, whose perfidy had excited his

indignation, and the activity of Horn justified the choice. In a short

time, he subdued the greater part of the bishopric; and the capital

itself, abandoned by its imperial garrison, was carried by storm. The

banished bishop urgently demanded assistance from the Elector of

Bavaria, who was at length persuaded to put an end to Tilly’s

inactivity. Fully empowered by his master’s order to restore the bishop

to his possessions, this general collected his troops, who were

scattered over the Upper Palatinate, and with an army of 20,000 men

advanced upon Bamberg. Firmly resolved to maintain his conquest even

against this overwhelming force, Horn awaited the enemy within the walls

of Bamberg; but was obliged to yield to the vanguard of Tilly what he

had thought to be able to dispute with his whole army. A panic which

suddenly seized his troops, and which no presence of mind of their

general could check, opened the gates to the enemy, and it was with

difficulty that the troops, baggage, and artillery, were saved. The

reconquest of Bamberg was the fruit of this victory; but Tilly, with all

his activity, was unable to overtake the Swedish general, who retired in

good order behind the Maine. The king’s appearance in Franconia, and

his junction with Gustavus Horn at Kitzingen, put a stop to Tilly’s

conquests, and compelled him to provide for his own safety by a rapid

retreat.

The king made a general review of his troops at Aschaffenburg. After

his junction with Gustavus Horn, Banner, and Duke William of Weimar,

they amounted to nearly 40,000 men. His progress through Franconia was

uninterrupted; for Tilly, far too weak to encounter an enemy so superior

in numbers, had retreated, by rapid marches, towards the Danube.

Bohemia and Bavaria were now equally near to the king, and, uncertain

whither his victorious course might be directed, Maximilian could form

no immediate resolution. The choice of the king, and the fate of both

provinces, now depended on the road that should be left open to Count

Tilly. It was dangerous, during the approach of so formidable an enemy,

to leave Bavaria undefended, in order to protect Austria; still more

dangerous, by receiving Tilly into Bavaria, to draw thither the enemy

also, and to render it the seat of a destructive war. The cares of the

sovereign finally overcame the scruples of the statesman, and Tilly

received orders, at all hazards, to cover the frontiers of Bavaria with

his army.

Nuremberg received with triumphant joy the protector of the Protestant

religion and German freedom, and the enthusiasm of the citizens

expressed itself on his arrival in loud transports of admiration and

joy. Even Gustavus could not contain his astonishment, to see himself

in this city, which was the very centre of Germany, where he had never

expected to be able to penetrate. The noble appearance of his person,

completed the impression produced by his glorious exploits, and the

condescension with which he received the congratulations of this free

city won all hearts. He now confirmed the alliance he had concluded

with it on the shores of the Baltic, and excited the citizens to zealous

activity and fraternal unity against the common enemy. After a short

stay in Nuremberg, he followed his army to the Danube, and appeared

unexpectedly before the frontier town of Donauwerth. A numerous

Bavarian garrison defended the place; and their commander, Rodolph

Maximilian, Duke of Saxe Lauenburg, showed at first a resolute

determination to defend it till the arrival of Tilly. But the vigour

with which Gustavus Adolphus prosecuted the siege, soon compelled him to

take measures for a speedy and secure retreat, which amidst a tremendous

fire from the Swedish artillery he successfully executed.

The conquest of Donauwerth opened to the king the further side of the

Danube, and now the small river Lech alone separated him from Bavaria.

The immediate danger of his dominions aroused all Maximilian’s activity;

and however little he had hitherto disturbed the enemy’s progress to his

frontier, he now determined to dispute as resolutely the remainder of

their course. On the opposite bank of the Lech, near the small town of

Rain, Tilly occupied a strongly fortified camp, which, surrounded by

three rivers, bade defiance to all attack. All the bridges over the

Lech were destroyed; the whole course of the stream protected by strong

garrisons as far as Augsburg; and that town itself, which had long

betrayed its impatience to follow the example of Nuremberg and

Frankfort, secured by a Bavarian garrison, and the disarming of its

inhabitants. The Elector himself, with all the troops he could collect,

threw himself into Tilly’s camp, as if all his hopes centred on this

single point, and here the good fortune of the Swedes was to suffer

shipwreck for ever.

Gustavus Adolphus, after subduing the whole territory of Augsburg, on

his own side of the river, and opening to his troops a rich supply of

necessaries from that quarter, soon appeared on the bank opposite the

Bavarian entrenchments. It was now the month of March, when the river,

swollen by frequent rains, and the melting of the snow from the

mountains of the Tyrol, flowed full and rapid between its steep banks.

Its boiling current threatened the rash assailants with certain

destruction, while from the opposite side the enemy’s cannon showed

their murderous mouths. If, in despite of the fury both of fire and

water, they should accomplish this almost impossible passage, a fresh

and vigorous enemy awaited the exhausted troops in an impregnable camp;

and when they needed repose and refreshment they must prepare for

battle. With exhausted powers they must ascend the hostile

entrenchments, whose strength seemed to bid defiance to every assault.

A defeat sustained upon this shore would be attended with inevitable

destruction, since the same stream which impeded their advance would

also cut off their retreat, if fortune should abandon them.

The Swedish council of war, which the king now assembled, strongly urged

upon him all these considerations, in order to deter him from this

dangerous undertaking. The most intrepid were appalled, and a troop of

honourable warriors, who had grown gray in the field, did not hesitate

to express their alarm. But the king’s resolution was fixed. “What!”

said he to Gustavus Horn, who spoke for the rest, “have we crossed the

Baltic, and so many great rivers of Germany, and shall we now be checked

by a brook like the Lech?” Gustavus had already, at great personal

risk, reconnoitred the whole country, and discovered that his own side

of the river was higher than the other, and consequently gave a

considerable advantage to the fire of the Swedish artillery over that of

the enemy. With great presence of mind he determined to profit by this

circumstance. At the point where the left bank of the Lech forms an

angle with the right, he immediately caused three batteries to be

erected, from which 72 field-pieces maintained a cross fire upon the

enemy. While this tremendous cannonade drove the Bavarians from the

opposite bank, he caused to be erected a bridge over the river with all

possible rapidity. A thick smoke, kept up by burning wood and wet

straw, concealed for some time the progress of the work from the enemy,

while the continued thunder of the cannon overpowered the noise of the

axes. He kept alive by his own example the courage of his troops, and

discharged more than 60 cannon with his own hand. The cannonade was

returned by the Bavarians with equal vivacity for two hours, though with

less effect, as the Swedish batteries swept the lower opposite bank,

while their height served as a breast-work to their own troops. In

vain, therefore, did the Bavarians attempt to destroy these works; the

superior fire of the Swedes threw them into disorder, and the bridge was

completed under their very eyes. On this dreadful day, Tilly did every

thing in his power to encourage his troops; and no danger could drive

him from the bank. At length he found the death which he sought, a

cannon ball shattered his leg; and Altringer, his brave

companion-in-arms, was, soon after, dangerously wounded in the head.

Deprived of the animating presence of their two generals, the Bavarians

gave way at last, and Maximilian, in spite of his own judgment, was

driven to adopt a pusillanimous resolve. Overcome by the persuasions of

the dying Tilly, whose wonted firmness was overpowered by the near

approach of death, he gave up his impregnable position for lost; and the

discovery by the Swedes of a ford, by which their cavalry were on the

point of passing, accelerated his inglorious retreat. The same night,

before a single soldier of the enemy had crossed the Lech, he broke up

his camp, and, without giving time for the King to harass him in his

march, retreated in good order to Neuburgh and Ingolstadt. With

astonishment did Gustavus Adolphus, who completed the passage of the

river on the following day behold the hostile camp abandoned; and the

Elector’s flight surprised him still more, when he saw the strength of

the position he had quitted. “Had I been the Bavarian,” said he,

“though a cannon ball had carried away my beard and chin, never would I

have abandoned a position like this, and laid open my territory to my

enemies.”

Bavaria now lay exposed to the conqueror; and, for the first time, the

tide of war, which had hitherto only beat against its frontier, now

flowed over its long spared and fertile fields. Before, however, the

King proceeded to the conquest of these provinces, he delivered the town

of Augsburg from the yoke of Bavaria; exacted an oath of allegiance from

the citizens; and to secure its observance, left a garrison in the town.

He then advanced, by rapid marches, against Ingolstadt, in order, by the

capture of this important fortress, which the Elector covered with the

greater part of his army, to secure his conquests in Bavaria, and obtain

a firm footing on the Danube.

Shortly after the appearance of the Swedish King before Ingolstadt, the

wounded Tilly, after experiencing the caprice of unstable fortune,

terminated his career within the walls of that town. Conquered by the

superior generalship of Gustavus Adolphus, he lost, at the close of his

days, all the laurels of his earlier victories, and appeased, by a

series of misfortunes, the demands of justice, and the avenging manes of

Magdeburg. In his death, the Imperial army and that of the League

sustained an irreparable loss; the Roman Catholic religion was deprived

of its most zealous defender, and Maximilian of Bavaria of the most

faithful of his servants, who sealed his fidelity by his death, and even

in his dying moments fulfilled the duties of a general. His last

message to the Elector was an urgent advice to take possession of

Ratisbon, in order to maintain the command of the Danube, and to keep

open the communication with Bohemia.

With the confidence which was the natural fruit of so many victories,

Gustavus Adolphus commenced the siege of Ingolstadt, hoping to gain the

town by the fury of his first assault. But the strength of its

fortifications, and the bravery of its garrison, presented obstacles

greater than any he had had to encounter since the battle of

Breitenfeld, and the walls of Ingolstadt were near putting an end to his

career. While reconnoitring the works, a 24-pounder killed his horse

under him, and he fell to the ground, while almost immediately

afterwards another ball struck his favourite, the young Margrave of

Baden, by his side. With perfect self-possession the king rose, and

quieted the fears of his troops by immediately mounting another horse.

The occupation of Ratisbon by the Bavarians, who, by the advice of

Tilly, had surprised this town by stratagem, and placed in it a strong

garrison, quickly changed the king’s plan of operations. He had

flattered himself with the hope of gaining this town, which favoured the

Protestant cause, and to find in it an ally as devoted to him as

Nuremberg, Augsburg, and Frankfort. Its seizure by the Bavarians seemed

to postpone for a long time the fulfilment of his favourite project of

making himself master of the Danube, and cutting off his adversaries’

supplies from Bohemia. He suddenly raised the siege of Ingolstadt,

before which he had wasted both his time and his troops, and penetrated

into the interior of Bavaria, in order to draw the Elector into that

quarter for the defence of his territories, and thus to strip the Danube

of its defenders.

The whole country, as far as Munich, now lay open to the conqueror.

Mosburg, Landshut, and the whole territory of Freysingen, submitted;

nothing could resist his arms. But if he met with no regular force to

oppose his progress, he had to contend against a still more implacable

enemy in the heart of every Bavarian--religious fanaticism. Soldiers

who did not believe in the Pope were, in this country, a new and

unheard-of phenomenon; the blind zeal of the priests represented them to

the peasantry as monsters, the children of hell, and their leader as

Antichrist. No wonder, then, if they thought themselves released from

all the ties of nature and humanity towards this brood of Satan, and

justified in committing the most savage atrocities upon them. Woe to

the Swedish soldier who fell into their hands! All the torments which

inventive malice could devise were exercised upon these unhappy victims;

and the sight of their mangled bodies exasperated the army to a fearful

retaliation. Gustavus Adolphus, alone, sullied the lustre of his heroic

character by no act of revenge; and the aversion which the Bavarians

felt towards his religion, far from making him depart from the

obligations of humanity towards that unfortunate people, seemed to

impose upon him the stricter duty to honour his religion by a more

constant clemency.

The approach of the king spread terror and consternation in the capital,

which, stripped of its defenders, and abandoned by its principal

inhabitants, placed all its hopes in the magnanimity of the conqueror.

By an unconditional and voluntary surrender, it hoped to disarm his

vengeance; and sent deputies even to Freysingen to lay at his feet the

keys of the city. Strongly as the king might have been tempted by the

inhumanity of the Bavarians, and the hostility of their sovereign, to

make a dreadful use of the rights of victory; pressed as he was by

Germans to avenge the fate of Magdeburg on the capital of its destroyer,

this great prince scorned this mean revenge; and the very helplessness

of his enemies disarmed his severity. Contented with the more noble

triumph of conducting the Palatine Frederick with the pomp of a victor

into the very palace of the prince who had been the chief instrument of

his ruin, and the usurper of his territories, he heightened the

brilliancy of his triumphal entry by the brighter splendour of

moderation and clemency.

The King found in Munich only a forsaken palace, for the Elector’s

treasures had been transported to Werfen. The magnificence of the

building astonished him; and he asked the guide who showed the

apartments who was the architect. “No other,” replied he, “than the

Elector himself.”--“I wish,” said the King, “I had this architect to

send to Stockholm.” “That,” he was answered, “the architect will take

care to prevent.” When the arsenal was examined, they found nothing but

carriages, stripped of their cannon. The latter had been so artfully

concealed under the floor, that no traces of them remained; and but for

the treachery of a workman, the deceit would not have been detected.

“Rise up from the dead,” said the King, “and come to judgment.” The

floor was pulled up, and 140 pieces of cannon discovered, some of

extraordinary calibre, which had been principally taken in the

Palatinate and Bohemia. A treasure of 30,000 gold ducats, concealed in

one of the largest, completed the pleasure which the King received from

this valuable acquisition.

A far more welcome spectacle still would have been the Bavarian army

itself; for his march into the heart of Bavaria had been undertaken

chiefly with the view of luring them from their entrenchments. In this

expectation he was disappointed. No enemy appeared; no entreaties,

however urgent, on the part of his subjects, could induce the Elector to

risk the remainder of his army to the chances of a battle. Shut up in

Ratisbon, he awaited the reinforcements which Wallenstein was bringing

from Bohemia; and endeavoured, in the mean time, to amuse his enemy and

keep him inactive, by reviving the negociation for a neutrality. But

the King’s distrust, too often and too justly excited by his previous

conduct, frustrated this design; and the intentional delay of

Wallenstein abandoned Bavaria to the Swedes.

Thus far had Gustavus advanced from victory to victory, without meeting

with an enemy able to cope with him. A part of Bavaria and Swabia, the

Bishoprics of Franconia, the Lower Palatinate, and the Archbishopric of

Mentz, lay conquered in his rear. An uninterrupted career of conquest

had conducted him to the threshold of Austria; and the most brilliant

success had fully justified the plan of operations which he had formed

after the battle of Breitenfeld. If he had not succeeded to his wish in

promoting a confederacy among the Protestant States, he had at least

disarmed or weakened the League, carried on the war chiefly at its

expense, lessened the Emperor’s resources, emboldened the weaker States,

and while he laid under contribution the allies of the Emperor, forced a

way through their territories into Austria itself. Where arms were

unavailing, the greatest service was rendered by the friendship of the

free cities, whose affections he had gained, by the double ties of

policy and religion; and, as long as he should maintain his superiority

in the field, he might reckon on every thing from their zeal. By his

conquests on the Rhine, the Spaniards were cut off from the Lower

Palatinate, even if the state of the war in the Netherlands left them at

liberty to interfere in the affairs of Germany. The Duke of Lorraine,

too, after his unfortunate campaign, had been glad to adopt a

neutrality. Even the numerous garrisons he had left behind him, in his

progress through Germany, had not diminished his army; and, fresh and

vigorous as when he first began his march, he now stood in the centre of

Bavaria, determined and prepared to carry the war into the heart of

Austria.

While Gustavus Adolphus thus maintained his superiority within the

empire, fortune, in another quarter, had been no less favourable to his

ally, the Elector of Saxony. By the arrangement concerted between these

princes at Halle, after the battle of Leipzig, the conquest of Bohemia

was intrusted to the Elector of Saxony, while the King reserved for

himself the attack upon the territories of the League. The first fruits

which the Elector reaped from the battle of Breitenfeld, was the

reconquest of Leipzig, which was shortly followed by the expulsion of

the Austrian garrisons from the entire circle. Reinforced by the troops

who deserted to him from the hostile garrisons, the Saxon General,

Arnheim, marched towards Lusatia, which had been overrun by an Imperial

General, Rudolph von Tiefenbach, in order to chastise the Elector for

embracing the cause of the enemy. He had already commenced in this

weakly defended province the usual course of devastation, taken several

towns, and terrified Dresden itself by his approach, when his

destructive progress was suddenly stopped, by an express mandate from

the Emperor to spare the possessions of the King of Saxony.

Ferdinand had perceived too late the errors of that policy, which

reduced the Elector of Saxony to extremities, and forcibly driven this

powerful monarch into an alliance with Sweden. By moderation, equally

ill-timed, he now wished to repair if possible the consequences of his

haughtiness; and thus committed a second error in endeavouring to repair

the first. To deprive his enemy of so powerful an ally, he had opened,

through the intervention of Spain, a negociation with the Elector; and

in order to facilitate an accommodation, Tiefenbach was ordered

immediately to retire from Saxony. But these concessions of the

Emperor, far from producing the desired effect, only revealed to the

Elector the embarrassment of his adversary and his own importance, and

emboldened him the more to prosecute the advantages he had already

obtained. How could he, moreover, without becoming chargeable with the

most shameful ingratitude, abandon an ally to whom he had given the most

solemn assurances of fidelity, and to whom he was indebted for the

preservation of his dominions, and even of his Electoral dignity?

The Saxon army, now relieved from the necessity of marching into

Lusatia, advanced towards Bohemia, where a combination of favourable

circumstances seemed to ensure them an easy victory. In this kingdom,

the first scene of this fatal war, the flames of dissension still

smouldered beneath the ashes, while the discontent of the inhabitants

was fomented by daily acts of oppression and tyranny. On every side,

this unfortunate country showed signs of a mournful change. Whole

districts had changed their proprietors, and groaned under the hated

yoke of Roman Catholic masters, whom the favour of the Emperor and the

Jesuits had enriched with the plunder and possessions of the exiled

Protestants. Others, taking advantage themselves of the general

distress, had purchased, at a low rate, the confiscated estates. The

blood of the most eminent champions of liberty had been shed upon the

scaffold; and such as by a timely flight avoided that fate, were

wandering in misery far from their native land, while the obsequious

slaves of despotism enjoyed their patrimony. Still more insupportable

than the oppression of these petty tyrants, was the restraint of

conscience which was imposed without distinction on all the Protestants

of that kingdom. No external danger, no opposition on the part of the

nation, however steadfast, not even the fearful lessons of past

experience could check in the Jesuits the rage of proselytism; where

fair means were ineffectual, recourse was had to military force to bring

the deluded wanderers within the pale of the church. The inhabitants of

Joachimsthal, on the frontiers between Bohemia and Meissen, were the

chief sufferers from this violence. Two imperial commissaries,

accompanied by as many Jesuits, and supported by fifteen musketeers,

made their appearance in this peaceful valley to preach the gospel to

the heretics. Where the rhetoric of the former was ineffectual, the

forcibly quartering the latter upon the houses, and threats of

banishment and fines were tried. But on this occasion, the good cause

prevailed, and the bold resistance of this small district compelled the

Emperor disgracefully to recall his mandate of conversion. The example

of the court had, however, afforded a precedent to the Roman Catholics

of the empire, and seemed to justify every act of oppression which their

insolence tempted them to wreak upon the Protestants. It is not

surprising, then, if this persecuted party was favourable to a

revolution, and saw with pleasure their deliverers on the frontiers.

The Saxon army was already on its march towards Prague, the imperial

garrisons everywhere retired before them. Schloeckenau, Tetschen,

Aussig, Leutmeritz, soon fell into the enemy’s hands, and every Roman

Catholic place was abandoned to plunder. Consternation seized all the

Papists of the Empire; and conscious of the outrages which they

themselves had committed on the Protestants, they did not venture to

abide the vengeful arrival of a Protestant army. All the Roman

Catholics, who had anything to lose, fled hastily from the country to

the capital, which again they presently abandoned. Prague was

unprepared for an attack, and was too weakly garrisoned to sustain a

long siege. Too late had the Emperor resolved to despatch Field-Marshal

Tiefenbach to the defence of this capital. Before the imperial orders

could reach the head-quarters of that general, in Silesia, the Saxons

were already close to Prague, the Protestant inhabitants of which showed

little zeal, while the weakness of the garrison left no room to hope a

long resistance. In this fearful state of embarrassment, the Roman

Catholics of Prague looked for security to Wallenstein, who now lived in

that city as a private individual. But far from lending his military

experience, and the weight of his name, towards its defence, he seized

the favourable opportunity to satiate his thirst for revenge. If he did

not actually invite the Saxons to Prague, at least his conduct

facilitated its capture. Though unprepared, the town might still hold

out until succours could arrive; and an imperial colonel, Count Maradas,

showed serious intentions of undertaking its defence. But without

command and authority, and having no support but his own zeal and

courage, he did not dare to venture upon such a step without the advice

of a superior. He therefore consulted the Duke of Friedland, whose

approbation might supply the want of authority from the Emperor, and to

whom the Bohemian generals were referred by an express edict of the

court in the last extremity. He, however, artfully excused himself, on

the plea of holding no official appointment, and his long retirement

from the political world; while he weakened the resolution of the

subalterns by the scruples which he suggested, and painted in the

strongest colours. At last, to render the consternation general and

complete, he quitted the capital with his whole court, however little he

had to fear from its capture; and the city was lost, because, by his

departure, he showed that he despaired of its safety. His example was

followed by all the Roman Catholic nobility, the generals with their

troops, the clergy, and all the officers of the crown. All night the

people were employed in saving their persons and effects. The roads to

Vienna were crowded with fugitives, who scarcely recovered from their

consternation till they reached the imperial city. Maradas himself,

despairing of the safety of Prague, followed the rest, and led his small

detachment to Tabor, where he awaited the event.

Profound silence reigned in Prague, when the Saxons next morning

appeared before it; no preparations were made for defence; not a single

shot from the walls announced an intention of resistance. On the

contrary, a crowd of spectators from the town, allured by curiosity,

came flocking round, to behold the foreign army; and the peaceful

confidence with which they advanced, resembled a friendly salutation,

more than a hostile reception. From the concurrent reports of these

people, the Saxons learned that the town had been deserted by the

troops, and that the government had fled to Budweiss. This unexpected

and inexplicable absence of resistance excited Arnheim’s distrust the

more, as the speedy approach of the Silesian succours was no secret to

him, and as he knew that the Saxon army was too indifferently provided

with materials for undertaking a siege, and by far too weak in numbers

to attempt to take the place by storm. Apprehensive of stratagem, he

redoubled his vigilance; and he continued in this conviction until

Wallenstein’s house-steward, whom he discovered among the crowd,

confirmed to him this intelligence. “The town is ours without a blow!”

exclaimed he in astonishment to his officers, and immediately summoned

it by a trumpeter.

The citizens of Prague, thus shamefully abandoned by their defenders,

had long taken their resolution; all that they had to do was to secure

their properties and liberties by an advantageous capitulation. No

sooner was the treaty signed by the Saxon general, in his master’s name,

than the gates were opened, without farther opposition; and upon the

11th of November, 1631, the army made their triumphal entry. The

Elector soon after followed in person, to receive the homage of those

whom he had newly taken under his protection; for it was only in the

character of protector that the three towns of Prague had surrendered to

him. Their allegiance to the Austrian monarchy was not to be dissolved

by the step they had taken. In proportion as the Papists’ apprehensions

of reprisals on the part of the Protestants had been exaggerated, so was

their surprise great at the moderation of the Elector, and the

discipline of his troops. Field-Marshal Arnheim plainly evinced, on

this occasion, his respect for Wallenstein. Not content with sparing

his estates on his march, he now placed guards over his palace, in

Prague, to prevent the plunder of any of his effects. The Roman

Catholics of the town were allowed the fullest liberty of conscience;

and of all the churches they had wrested from the Protestants, four only

were now taken back from them. From this general indulgence, none were

excluded but the Jesuits, who were generally considered as the authors

of all past grievances, and thus banished the kingdom.

John George belied not the submission and dependence with which the

terror of the imperial name inspired him; nor did he indulge at Prague,

in a course of conduct which would assuredly have been pursued against

himself in Dresden, by imperial generals, such as Tilly or Wallenstein.

He carefully distinguished between the enemy with whom he was at war,

and the head of the Empire, to whom he owed obedience. He did not

venture to touch the household furniture of the latter, while, without

scruple, he appropriated and transported to Dresden the cannon of the

former. He did not take up his residence in the imperial palace, but

the house of Lichtenstein; too modest to use the apartments of one whom

he had deprived of a kingdom. Had this trait been related of a great

man and a hero, it would irresistibly excite our admiration; but the

character of this prince leaves us in doubt whether this moderation

ought to be ascribed to a noble self-command, or to the littleness of a

weak mind, which even good fortune could not embolden, and liberty

itself could not strip of its habituated fetters.

The surrender of Prague, which was quickly followed by that of most of

the other towns, effected a great and sudden change in Bohemia. Many of

the Protestant nobility, who had hitherto been wandering about in

misery, now returned to their native country; and Count Thurn, the

famous author of the Bohemian insurrection, enjoyed the triumph of

returning as a conqueror to the scene of his crime and his condemnation.

Over the very bridge where the heads of his adherents, exposed to view,

held out a fearful picture of the fate which had threatened himself, he

now made his triumphal entry; and to remove these ghastly objects was

his first care. The exiles again took possession of their properties,

without thinking of recompensing for the purchase money the present

possessors, who had mostly taken to flight. Even though they had

received a price for their estates, they seized on every thing which had

once been their own; and many had reason to rejoice at the economy of

the late possessors. The lands and cattle had greatly improved in their

hands; the apartments were now decorated with the most costly furniture;

the cellars, which had been left empty, were richly filled; the stables

supplied; the magazines stored with provisions. But distrusting the

constancy of that good fortune, which had so unexpectedly smiled upon

them, they hastened to get quit of these insecure possessions, and to

convert their immoveable into transferable property.

The presence of the Saxons inspired all the Protestants of the kingdom

with courage; and, both in the country and the capital, crowds flocked

to the newly opened Protestant churches. Many, whom fear alone had

retained in their adherence to Popery, now openly professed the new

doctrine; and many of the late converts to Roman Catholicism gladly

renounced a compulsory persuasion, to follow the earlier conviction of

their conscience. All the moderation of the new regency, could not

restrain the manifestation of that just displeasure, which this

persecuted people felt against their oppressors. They made a fearful

and cruel use of their newly recovered rights; and, in many parts of the

kingdom, their hatred of the religion which they had been compelled to

profess, could be satiated only by the blood of its adherents.

Meantime the succours which the imperial generals, Goetz and Tiefenbach,

were conducting from Silesia, had entered Bohemia, where they were

joined by some of Tilly’s regiments, from the Upper Palatinate. In

order to disperse them before they should receive any further

reinforcement, Arnheim advanced with part of his army from Prague, and

made a vigorous attack on their entrenchments near Limburg, on the Elbe.

After a severe action, not without great loss, he drove the enemy from

their fortified camp, and forced them, by his heavy fire, to recross the

Elbe, and to destroy the bridge which they had built over that river.

Nevertheless, the Imperialists obtained the advantage in several

skirmishes, and the Croats pushed their incursions to the very gates of

Prague. Brilliant and promising as the opening of the Bohemian campaign

had been, the issue by no means satisfied the expectations of Gustavus

Adolphus. Instead of vigorously following up their advantages, by

forcing a passage to the Swedish army through the conquered country, and

then, with it, attacking the imperial power in its centre, the Saxons

weakened themselves in a war of skirmishes, in which they were not

always successful, while they lost the time which should have been

devoted to greater undertakings. But the Elector’s subsequent conduct

betrayed the motives which had prevented him from pushing his advantage

over the Emperor, and by consistent measures promoting the plans of the

King of Sweden.

The Emperor had now lost the greater part of Bohemia, and the Saxons

were advancing against Austria, while the Swedish monarch was rapidly

moving to the same point through Franconia, Swabia, and Bavaria. A long

war had exhausted the strength of the Austrian monarchy, wasted the

country, and diminished its armies. The renown of its victories was no

more, as well as the confidence inspired by constant success; its troops

had lost the obedience and discipline to which those of the Swedish

monarch owed all their superiority in the field. The confederates of

the Emperor were disarmed, or their fidelity shaken by the danger which

threatened themselves. Even Maximilian of Bavaria, Austria’s most

powerful ally, seemed disposed to yield to the seductive proposition of

neutrality; while his suspicious alliance with France had long been a

subject of apprehension to the Emperor. The bishops of Wurtzburg and

Bamberg, the Elector of Mentz, and the Duke of Lorraine, were either

expelled from their territories, or threatened with immediate attack;

Treves had placed itself under the protection of France. The bravery of

the Hollanders gave full employment to the Spanish arms in the

Netherlands; while Gustavus had driven them from the Rhine. Poland was

still fettered by the truce which subsisted between that country and

Sweden. The Hungarian frontier was threatened by the Transylvanian

Prince, Ragotsky, a successor of Bethlen Gabor, and the inheritor of his

restless mind; while the Porte was making great preparation to profit by

the favourable conjuncture for aggression. Most of the Protestant

states, encouraged by their protector’s success, were openly and

actively declaring against the Emperor. All the resources which had

been obtained by the violent and oppressive extortions of Tilly and

Wallenstein were exhausted; all these depots, magazines, and

rallying-points, were now lost to the Emperor; and the war could no

longer be carried on as before at the cost of others. To complete his

embarrassment, a dangerous insurrection broke out in the territory of

the Ens, where the ill-timed religious zeal of the government had

provoked the Protestants to resistance; and thus fanaticism lit its

torch within the empire, while a foreign enemy was already on its

frontier. After so long a continuance of good fortune, such brilliant

victories and extensive conquests, such fruitless effusion of blood, the

Emperor saw himself a second time on the brink of that abyss, into which

he was so near falling at the commencement of his reign. If Bavaria

should embrace the neutrality; if Saxony should resist the tempting

offers he had held out; and France resolve to attack the Spanish power

at the same time in the Netherlands, in Italy and in Catalonia, the ruin

of Austria would be complete; the allied powers would divide its spoils,

and the political system of Germany would undergo a total change.

The chain of these disasters began with the battle of Breitenfeld, the

unfortunate issue of which plainly revealed the long decided decline of

the Austrian power, whose weakness had hitherto been concealed under the

dazzling glitter of a grand name. The chief cause of the Swedes’

superiority in the field, was evidently to be ascribed to the unlimited

power of their leader, who concentrated in himself the whole strength of

his party; and, unfettered in his enterprises by any higher authority,

was complete master of every favourable opportunity, could control all

his means to the accomplishment of his ends, and was responsible to none

but himself. But since Wallenstein’s dismissal, and Tilly’s defeat, the

very reverse of this course was pursued by the Emperor and the League.

The generals wanted authority over their troops, and liberty of acting

at their discretion; the soldiers were deficient in discipline and

obedience; the scattered corps in combined operation; the states in

attachment to the cause; the leaders in harmony among themselves, in

quickness to resolve, and firmness to execute. What gave the Emperor’s

enemy so decided an advantage over him, was not so much their superior

power, as their manner of using it. The League and the Emperor did not

want means, but a mind capable of directing them with energy and effect.

Even had Count Tilly not lost his old renown, distrust of Bavaria would

not allow the Emperor to place the fate of Austria in the hands of one

who had never concealed his attachment to the Bavarian Elector. The

urgent want which Ferdinand felt, was for a general possessed of

sufficient experience to form and to command an army, and willing at the

same time to dedicate his services, with blind devotion, to the Austrian

monarchy.

This choice now occupied the attention of the Emperor’s privy council,

and divided the opinions of its members. In order to oppose one monarch

to another, and by the presence of their sovereign to animate the

courage of the troops, Ferdinand, in the ardour of the moment, had

offered himself to be the leader of his army; but little trouble was

required to overturn a resolution which was the offspring of despair

alone, and which yielded at once to calm reflection. But the situation

which his dignity, and the duties of administration, prevented the

Emperor from holding, might be filled by his son, a youth of talents and

bravery, and of whom the subjects of Austria had already formed great

expectations. Called by his birth to the defence of a monarchy, of

whose crowns he wore two already, Ferdinand III., King of Hungary and

Bohemia, united, with the natural dignity of heir to the throne, the

respect of the army, and the attachment of the people, whose

co-operation was indispensable to him in the conduct of the war. None

but the beloved heir to the crown could venture to impose new burdens on

a people already severely oppressed; his personal presence with the army

could alone suppress the pernicious jealousies of the several leaders,

and by the influence of his name, restore the neglected discipline of

the troops to its former rigour. If so young a leader was devoid of the

maturity of judgment, prudence, and military experience which practice

alone could impart, this deficiency might be supplied by a judicious

choice of counsellors and assistants, who, under the cover of his name,

might be vested with supreme authority.

But plausible as were the arguments with which a part of the ministry

supported this plan, it was met by difficulties not less serious,

arising from the distrust, perhaps even the jealousy, of the Emperor,

and also from the desperate state of affairs. How dangerous was it to

entrust the fate of the monarchy to a youth, who was himself in need of

counsel and support! How hazardous to oppose to the greatest general of

his age, a tyro, whose fitness for so important a post had never yet

been tested by experience; whose name, as yet unknown to fame, was far

too powerless to inspire a dispirited army with the assurance of future

victory! What a new burden on the country, to support the state a royal

leader was required to maintain, and which the prejudices of the age

considered as inseparable from his presence with the army! How serious a

consideration for the prince himself, to commence his political career,

with an office which must make him the scourge of his people, and the

oppressor of the territories which he was hereafter to rule.

But not only was a general to be found for the army; an army must also

be found for the general. Since the compulsory resignation of

Wallenstein, the Emperor had defended himself more by the assistance of

Bavaria and the League, than by his own armies; and it was this

dependence on equivocal allies, which he was endeavouring to escape, by

the appointment of a general of his own. But what possibility was there

of raising an army out of nothing, without the all-powerful aid of gold,

and the inspiriting name of a victorious commander; above all, an army

which, by its discipline, warlike spirit, and activity, should be fit to

cope with the experienced troops of the northern conqueror? In all

Europe, there was but one man equal to this, and that one had been

mortally affronted.

The moment had at last arrived, when more than ordinary satisfaction was

to be done to the wounded pride of the Duke of Friedland. Fate itself

had been his avenger, and an unbroken chain of disasters, which had

assailed Austria from the day of his dismissal, had wrung from the

Emperor the humiliating confession, that with this general he had lost

his right arm. Every defeat of his troops opened afresh this wound;

every town which he lost, revived in the mind of the deceived monarch

the memory of his own weakness and ingratitude. It would have been well

for him, if, in the offended general, he had only lost a leader of his

troops, and a defender of his dominions; but he was destined to find in

him an enemy, and the most dangerous of all, since he was least armed

against the stroke of treason.

Removed from the theatre of war, and condemned to irksome inaction,

while his rivals gathered laurels on the field of glory, the haughty

duke had beheld these changes of fortune with affected composure, and

concealed, under a glittering and theatrical pomp, the dark designs of

his restless genius. Torn by burning passions within, while all without

bespoke calmness and indifference, he brooded over projects of ambition

and revenge, and slowly, but surely, advanced towards his end. All that

he owed to the Emperor was effaced from his mind; what he himself had

done for the Emperor was imprinted in burning characters on his memory.

To his insatiable thirst for power, the Emperor’s ingratitude was

welcome, as it seemed to tear in pieces the record of past favours, to

absolve him from every obligation towards his former benefactor. In the

disguise of a righteous retaliation, the projects dictated by his

ambition now appeared to him just and pure. In proportion as the

external circle of his operations was narrowed, the world of hope

expanded before him, and his dreamy imagination revelled in boundless

projects, which, in any mind but such as his, madness alone could have

given birth to. His services had raised him to the proudest height

which it was possible for a man, by his own efforts, to attain. Fortune

had denied him nothing which the subject and the citizen could lawfully

enjoy. Till the moment of his dismissal, his demands had met with no

refusal, his ambition had met with no check; but the blow which, at the

diet of Ratisbon, humbled him, showed him the difference between

ORIGINAL and DEPUTED power, the distance between the subject and his

sovereign. Roused from the intoxication of his own greatness by this

sudden reverse of fortune, he compared the authority which he had

possessed, with that which had deprived him of it; and his ambition

marked the steps which it had yet to surmount upon the ladder of

fortune. From the moment he had so bitterly experienced the weight of

sovereign power, his efforts were directed to attain it for himself; the

wrong which he himself had suffered made him a robber. Had he not been

outraged by injustice, he might have obediently moved in his orbit round

the majesty of the throne, satisfied with the glory of being the

brightest of its satellites. It was only when violently forced from its

sphere, that his wandering star threw in disorder the system to which it

belonged, and came in destructive collision with its sun.