The advisers of Gustavus strongly urged an advance on Austria,

believing that such a course would bring Ferdinand to terms. But so

far Gustavus’ successes had come from a systematic plan of campaign

which embraced the whole of Germany in its scope. He had secured each

step and had risked nothing unnecessarily. He saw the chances pointed

out, but he also saw that if he advanced south, his right rear would

be threatened by Tilly, who had, after his defeat, retired toward the

Rhenish provinces and there made a new base. The king preferred his

own plan of first gaining a firm footing in western Germany. He held

interior lines and saw that he could operate against his enemies in

detail. To complete his plan would secure him from the lower Elbe to

the middle and upper Rhine, and he could then turn against Bavaria and

Austria from the west, as his advisers would now have him do from the

north, and with distinctly better effect. Meanwhile the Saxons could

operate towards Silesia and Bohemia to secure Gustavus’ left in his

advance, and Hesse Cassel could hold head against Tilly on Gustavus’

right. The scheme was wise and far-sighted, took into calculation all

the political and military elements of the situation, and was based on

broad, sound judgment. For seventeen hundred years, no one had looked

at war with so large an intelligence.

It may be said that war is a game of risks. But to play a gambler’s

game was not Gustavus’ _forte_. When the occasion demanded, he could

disregard every danger. What he has taught us is method, not temerity.

His mission was to abolish the Quixotism of his day.

The Saxon Elector, with a mixed army over twenty thousand strong,

accordingly marched into Bohemia and Silesia (Oct., 1631) and pushed

the Imperialists back from Prague on Tabor. Everything promised

success. But all at once the Elector appeared to lose heart, arrested

his advance, and opened negotiations with the Emperor, who, seeing that

threats had not succeeded, had tried conciliation. This part of the

operation was nullified.

Gustavus moved to Würzburg. Franconia joined the Protestant cause as

Thuringia had already done. Tilly, having recovered from his late

defeat, and his present position being no threat to Gustavus, marched

southerly. With allies he collected over fifty thousand men and

proposed to seek battle. But the Elector of Bavaria, fearful for his

territory, kept Tilly on the defensive.

Gustavus was now firmly established on the Main, and in Thuringia and

Franconia, and he presently moved down the river to fully secure the

Rhineland, leaving a sufficient force opposite Tilly in Franconia. His

men marched along both banks with the baggage on boats. He crossed the

Rhine, took Mainz and transformed it into an allied fortress.

Germany was metamorphosed. The allies had one hundred and fifty

thousand men in the field. Recruiting was lively. All Protestants

were united in sentiment, purpose, and efforts. France was helpful

in keeping the Catholic princes along the Rhine in a condition of

neutrality, while Gustavus lay in a central position between the

Emperor and these same princes. Bavaria was an uncertain element. The

Emperor had a total of but eighty thousand men, and of these the bulk

were protecting the Danube instead of carrying desolation into the

Protestant territory.

Gustavus now concentrated on the middle Main to the number of

forty-five thousand men and marched on Nürnberg, where he was received

with enthusiasm. Tilly crossed the Danube and took up a position over

against Rain, behind the Lech, with forty thousand effective. From

Nürnberg Gustavus marched to Donauwörth, also crossed the Danube and

sent out a detachment to take Ulm.

The king was daring at the proper time. His whole campaign so far

had been cautious and systematic, neglecting no point in his general

scheme. He was now face to face with the army he had driven from

northern and western Germany, and was ready for battle. He could not

draw Tilly from his entrenched camp; and he determined to impose on

him by boldly crossing the river in his front and attacking it,--then

simply an unheard-of proceeding. He believed that the moral advantage

to be gained by a stroke of audacity would more than compensate for

the danger, and danger was to Gustavus an incentive. He erected a

battery of seventy-two guns on the left bank of the Lech, opposite

Rain, and under cover of its fire set over a portion of the troops

in boats, built in two days a bridge and a bridge-head, led over the

infantry, and sent the cavalry up stream to ford the river above the

enemy’s position (April, 1632).

Tilly and the Elector of Bavaria sought too late to interrupt these

fearless proceedings. They issued from their camp with a select body

of troops and attacked the Swedes, who were backing on the Lech. But

the crossfire of the admirably posted Swedish batteries was severe; the

Swedish infantry held its own, and the cavalry rode down upon their

flank. In this obstinate combat Tilly was mortally wounded. His second

in command suffered a like fate. The Imperial troops lost heart and

took refuge within their breastworks. Oncoming darkness forestalled

pursuit. But Gustavus had gained his object. The Imperial army had lost

_morale_ and organization, and his own had gained in abundant measure.

This is the first instance of forcing the passage of a wide and rapid

river in the teeth of the enemy.

The Elector retired to Ratisbon. The Swedes took possession of many

towns in Bavaria, including Munich. But the country population was so

hostile that a permanent occupation seemed a waste of energy; Gustavus

retired to Ingolstadt.

A disturbing element now arose in a curious suspicion of the ulterior

motives of Gustavus. Both Protestants and Catholics--Germans

alike--began to fear that the king might be tempted by his successes

to make himself autocrat of Germany. This feeling soon begot a

half-heartedness among the king’s supporters. Richelieu feared that

Gustavus, instead of Ferdinand, was reaching a point which might

make him dangerous to France. The Emperor, meanwhile, went back

to Wallenstein, who had been so successful before his deposition

from command. Wallenstein made hard terms, but he was a power which

could no longer be disregarded. Ferdinand, to gain his aid, gave him

uncontrolled authority over the army he should raise and all its

operations.

Wallenstein began recruiting. He soon had forty thousand men. The

Catholics grew braver when the reconciliation of Wallenstein and the

Emperor became known. This, added to the suspicions of the allies,

constrained Gustavus to cease his successful offensive for a cautious

holding of what he already had.

Wallenstein marched into Bohemia, the Saxons offering no resistance,

and took Prague. He then moved to Bavaria and joined the Elector.

Seeing that Wallenstein by this manœuvre had gained a position from

which he might endanger his communications with northern Germany,

Gustavus marched summarily on Nürnberg, which was the “cross-roads” of

that section of the country, to head Wallenstein off from Saxony, and

ordered his outlying detachments to concentrate there. He had under

his immediate command but one-third of Wallenstein’s total, and could

not assume the offensive. But he would not abandon southern Germany

until driven from it. He entrenched a camp near the town. Despite

superior numbers, Wallenstein did not attack. He could not rise above

the prejudice of the day. He deemed hunger a more efficient ally than

assault. He sat down before Nürnberg (July, 1632). The small-war

indulged in generally ran in favor of the king, who patiently awaited

reënforcements, having provided two months’ provisions for his army and

the town. Oxenstiern meanwhile collected thirty-eight thousand men and

advanced to the aid of his chief. Gustavus marched out to meet him.

Wallenstein did not interfere. The king was prepared for battle should

he do so. It was a grave military error that Wallenstein took no means

to prevent this junction.

Soon after Gustavus had received his reënforcements, he determined to

bring Wallenstein to battle, for famine had begun to make inroads in

Nürnberg and in both camps. He accordingly marched out and drew up in

the enemy’s front, but Wallenstein could not be induced to leave his

entrenchments (Aug., 1632). Failing in this, the king at last resorted

to an assault on the Imperial fortifications. But after a gallant

struggle he was driven back with a loss of two thousand men. He has

been blamed for this assault. He deserves rather the highest praise for

his effort to show the world that gallantry and enterprise are among

the best characteristics of war. After him, Frederick proved that good

troops can more often take entrenchments than fail. His grenadiers

were accustomed to assault works held by two to one of their own

number,--and take them, too, under the king’s stern eye.

After ten weeks of this futile struggle, and much loss on both

sides, Gustavus, fairly starved out by want of rations and of battle,

determined to regain his communications with northern Germany. He left

five thousand men in Nürnberg, and marching past Wallenstein’s camp

unchallenged, moved to Würzburg. He had but twenty-four thousand men

left. Wallenstein, who again neglected an admirable chance of falling

on Gustavus’ flank, soon after marched to Bamberg with the relics of

his army, reduced to about the same number (Sept., 1632).

Learning that Wallenstein had left Nürnberg, Gustavus, in the belief

that his opponent would seek repose for a period, marched back to the

Danube to resume the thread of his own work. The Nürnberg incident

had interrupted, not discontinued his general plan. Wallenstein, as

he had anticipated, sat quietly in Bamberg. He had shown singular

disinclination to come to blows with the king, and exhibited far less

activity, though, in truth, Wallenstein was both a distinguished and

able soldier.

On other fields the Swedes and allies were generally successful, but

finally thirty thousand Imperialists concentrated in Saxony, and

Wallenstein joined them and took Leipsic. Gustavus (Sept., 1632) feared

for his Saxon alliance, without which he could scarcely maintain

himself. He again put off the prosecution of his general scheme, to go

where lay the most imminent danger. Oxenstiern again advised a summary

march on Vienna, but Gustavus wisely rejected the advice. At that day

Vienna had not its importance of 1805. The king left a suitable force

in Bavaria (Oct., 1632), marched northward and entrenched a camp at

Naumberg. Wallenstein turned to meet him. His evident duty was to

concentrate and attack. But, according to the idea of that day, he

parcelled out his army in detachments, sending Pappenheim to Halle

while he marched to Merseburg. The Imperial general had blundered

into a cardinal position in the midst of the allies. The Swedes,

twenty-seven thousand strong, were at Naumberg, the Saxons, with

eighteen thousand, at Torgau, and ten thousand allies were marching up

the left bank of the Elbe. Wallenstein’s manifest operation was to fall

on each of these forces singly--on Gustavus first, as the strongest.

But he appeared to lose both head and heart when facing Gustavus.

He grew weaker as Gustavus grew more bold. He made no use of his

advantage, even if he comprehended it.

The king had got possession of the crossing of the Saale, but

Wallenstein stood between him and the Saxons. Gustavus’ generals

advised a manœuvre to join these allies, but the king was instinct with

mettle, and determined upon action.

The ensuing battle of Lützen has little which is remarkable, beyond

the fiery ardor which ended in the death of Gustavus Adolphus. It

was a battle in simple parallel order, but the better discipline of

the Swedish army and the greater mobility of its organization showed

as marked superiority over Wallenstein’s masses as the Roman legion,

for the same reason, had shown over the Macedonian phalanx eighteen

centuries before. The Swedes won the victory, but they lost their king,

and Germany its protector and champion.

As is the case with all great captains, Gustavus Adolphus gave the

impulse to every action while on the theatre of operations of the

Thirty Years’ War. For many centuries war had been conducted without

that art and purpose which Alexander, Hannibal, and Cæsar so markedly

exhibited. But in the operations of the Swedish king we again find the

hand of the master. We recognize the same method which has excited

our admiration in the annals of the noted campaigns of antiquity, and

from now on we shall see generals who intelligently carry forward what

Gustavus Adolphus rescued from the oblivion of the Middle Ages.

The operations of the king, from his appearance in Germany, showed

his exceptional genius for war. He had no military guide, except his

study of the deeds of the ancients, for modern war up to his day had

altogether lacked depth and directness. During the first fourteen

months, he secured his foothold in the northern coast provinces,

in a most clear-witted and orderly manner. Every circumstance was

against him. He had weak forces to oppose to the Emperor’s might.

The half-hearted, fear-ridden Protestants yielded him little aid and

comfort; yet he reached his goal, step by step, seizing and holding

strong places at key points, and accumulating supplies where he could

count on their safety. But once, during his entire German campaign,--at

Nürnberg,--was he out of rations, and this without ravaging the

country. He carefully secured his communications with the base he

had established and with Sweden, and never manœuvred so as to lose

them. He gradually strengthened himself with allies and recruits.

Unlike the armies of the day, who behaved as if the populations of

the countries they traversed were of less consequence than the beasts

of the field, Gustavus dealt with them in a spirit of kindliness and

Christian charity which won them over to his side. He kept his troops

under strict discipline, and by supplying all their wants and paying

them regularly, could rightfully prohibit marauding and plunder. He

understood how to avoid battle with an enemy too strong to beat, how to

lead him astray on the strategic field, how to manœuvre energetically

against an enemy, his equal or inferior in strength; how to make the

tactical mobility of his troops and his own ardor on the battle-field

tell; how to improve victory; and how to heighten and maintain the

morale of his troops under victory and defeat alike.

When, by his cautious and intelligent plan, the king stood firmly

planted between the sea, the Oder, and the Elbe, with flanks and rear

well guarded, he at once altered his conduct. He crossed the Elbe and

boldly attacked the enemy, adding to his strength by beating him;

and, leaving the allies to protect his flanks and communications, he

advanced with spirit and energy. In thirty days he had established

himself firmly on the Main; in little over four months more he had

moved down the Main, and had possessed himself of or neutralized the

whole middle Rhine; and in twelve weeks thence had crossed the Danube,

beaten the enemy at the Lech, and occupied almost all Bavaria. Thus

in less than nine months (Sept., 1631 to June, 1632) he had overrun a

much larger territory than he had previously gained in fourteen, and

had added vastly to his standing. He had been bold and decisive, and

yet never lacking in the method and caution which were his guide. He

had established himself as firmly in southern Germany as previously in

northern.

At the height of his reputation and success, he was now ready to attack

Austria from the west. But the policy of France changed, his allies

became suspicious, and Wallenstein moved toward his rear. The scene

changed. Gustavus had no longer the security of whole-hearted allies to

connect him with Sweden, and his policy at once shifted to the cautious

one he had first shown. The thing for him to consider, if he was to be

thrown on his own resources, was first and foremost his communications.

With forces inferior to Wallenstein’s, he acted on the defensive. With

the accessions which made his army equal to Wallenstein’s, he again

went over to an offensive at that day startling in its audacity. This

failing, and provision having given out, he moved, not to Bavaria, but

to the Main, to protect his line of retreat, which naturally traversed

Hesse Cassel. So soon as Wallenstein retired to Bamberg, Gustavus,

leaving a lieutenant to observe him, felt at liberty to take up his

old thread in Bavaria. He had gauged his opponent aright. When again

Wallenstein, by his Saxon affiliations, threatened, and this time more

seriously, the king’s allies, and remotely the security of his advanced

position, Gustavus again resorted to decisive operations. His march to

Saxony and his attack on the enemy at Lützen were equally bold, rapid,

and skilful.

Herein is a peculiarly intelligent adaptation of work to existing

conditions. From the king’s landing to the passage of the Elbe, while

securing his base, a cautious, but by no means indecisive policy; from

crossing the Elbe to Nürnberg, while moving upon the enemy, a singular

quickness and boldness, but by no means lacking in intelligent and

methodical caution; from Nürnberg to Lützen an alternation from caution

to boldness as circumstances warranted. After Cæsar’s day, Gustavus was

the first who firmly and intelligently carried through a campaign on

one well considered, fully digested, broad, and intelligent plan, and

swerved therefrom only momentarily and partially to meet exigencies

which could not be foreseen. The advice of his most trusted aides was

often opposed to what he did; but they could not see as far as he saw.

Each variation had its definite object, which attained, the general

plan was at once resumed. There was an entire freedom from blind

subservience to the rules of war as then laid down; an intelligent

sequence and inter-dependence of movement on a plan elastic enough

to meet unexpected obstacles; these produced a perfectly systematic

whole, in which the unity of plan was never disturbed; and with this

broad scheme went hand in hand a careful execution of detail upon which

depended the success of the whole. His occupation remained firm; his

victualling was sufficient to his needs; his movements accomplished

what he sought.

In pursuance of his cautious plan he neglected no essential fortress or

city; he held the passages of important rivers by erecting bridge-heads

or occupying towns; he kept upon his line of operations suitable

detachments, or met descents upon it by a prompt movement towards the

enemy. He so managed the division of his forces as not to endanger his

strength nor to lose the ability to concentrate. He used his allies

for the work they could best perform. He kept the main offensive in his

own hands, generally so ordering that his lieutenants should act on the

defensive, unless they outnumbered the enemy, and then made them push

with vigor. He uniformly did the right thing at the right moment.

The secret of Gustavus’ success lay in his breadth of plan, in his

constancy to the work cut out, and in his properly adapting boldness or

caution to the existing circumstances. As with Alexander, Hannibal, and

Cæsar, it was the man himself whose soul illumined his work; and this

man had those transcendent qualities which produce incomparable results

in war, whenever they coexist with great events. Equal as monarch and

soldier, he united in his one person the art of both. His nation and

army were devoted to him soul and body. His motives were the highest

and purest which have ever inspired a great captain; his pursuit of

them was steadfast and noble, open-handed and above-board, prudent and

intrepid. In weighing his intelligence, sound judgment, strong will,

elevated sentiment, energy and vigilance, he is properly put in the

highest rank. But though his record cannot perhaps vie with the others

in the brilliancy of his tactics, in the splendor of his victories,

in extent of conquest, in immensity of ambition, in the surmounting

of all but impossible natural or artificial barriers, in resisting

overwhelming disaster with heroic constancy,--still, if we look at the

man, upon the results of what he did, at the purposeless and barbarous

nature of war as conducted up to his day; if we weigh the influence

of his short campaigns upon all modern war, and consider how his

nobility of character and his life-work has made toward civilization,

we cannot rate Gustavus Adolphus too high. His pointing out the

importance of key-points in holding a country; the value of feeding an

army by careful accumulation of supplies, instead of by ravaging every

territory it enters; the advantage of a carefully drawn plan extending

over the entire theatre of operations; and the propriety of waging war

in a more Christian and civilized spirit,--marks the first step towards

the modern system. Gustavus Adolphus must be called the father of the

modern art of war; and is acknowledged as the one of all others who

re-created systematic, intellectual war, and stripped war of its worst

horrors.

After his death, his lieutenants tried fruitlessly to carry on his

methods. They retained a part of what he gave them; in many things they

slid back into the old ruts; and war (except with masters like Turenne,

Prince Eugene, and Marlborough) resumed its character of isolated

raids, until Frederick once more elevated it and stamped upon it a

permanence which it cannot now lose.

Among his enemies, during the remainder of the Thirty Years’ War there

was nothing but the extremity of barbarous methods, over which it is

well to draw a veil.

Gustavus Adolphus was tall, handsome, and strong. In his later years

he grew so heavy that none but well-bred horses of great bone and

endurance could carry him. But he rode fast and far. His bearing was

noble, full of simple complaisance, and genuine. His quick mind robbed

work of effort; his ideas were clear, and he expressed them crisply

and in happy words; his voice was rich, his manner convincing.

A remarkable memory served to retain the names and merits of his

subordinate officers and numberless worthy men. He maintained stern

discipline in a just and kindly spirit. His religious fervor was as

honest as his courage was high-pitched. The Bible was his constant

companion and guide. He began all his acts with unaffected prayer,

and ended with thanksgiving. The Christian virtues never resided in a

more princely soul. He was sober, of simple habit, and upright life.

Towering over all around him in mind and heart, and inflexible withal,

he was yet modest and ready to weigh the opinions of others. A tireless

worker, he demanded equal exertion from his officials and aides. But

in his intercourse with all men were kingly condescension and dignity

joined. He was more than monarch,--he was a man.

What has Gustavus Adolphus done for the art of war? In a tactical

sense, many things. Before him, not a few noted generals had introduced

improvements naturally growing out of the introduction of gunpowder.

Gustavus made various changes towards greater mobility. The cumbrous

armies of the day were marshalled in battalia, which were huge, dense

squares or phalanxes of deep files of musketeers and pikemen mixed,

awkward and unwieldy. The recruiting of the day assembled many men

of many minds, and the three arms worked at cross-purposes. Gustavus

began by reducing the pikemen to one-third the entire infantry, and

later (1631) formed whole regiments of musketeers alone. He lightened

the musket, did away with the crutch-rest, till then used in firing,

introduced wheel-locks, paper cartridges, and cartridge-boxes. He

taught his men a much quicker manual of aims. The times and motions

of loading and firing had been some one hundred and sixty; Gustavus

reduced them to ninety-five, which sounds absurdly slow to us to-day.

But his men none the less vastly exceeded the enemy in rapidity of

fire. He lightened the guns of his artillery, and made the drill of

other arms conform to its manœuvres, so that his whole army worked with

one purpose. His batteries became active and efficient. In the Thirty

Years’ War he generally had a preponderance of artillery over the

Imperialists.

To secure better fire, Gustavus reduced his musketeers to six ranks,

which to fire closed into three. This it was which principally gave

it so much greater nimbleness of foot. The troops were well armed and

equipped, and uniformed for the first time. Few wagons were allowed per

regiment, and effectual discipline prevailed. Severe regulations were

enforced. The behavior of the Swedish troops was the marked reverse of

that of Wallenstein’s and Tilly’s forces. Service and seniority alone

secured promotion; nepotism was unknown. The force Gustavus created was

the first truly national regular army.

Great captains · 第 8 / 13 段