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 Thirty Years War — Volume 03 · 第 3 / 8 段