The Restitutions Edict
"My Prince," the Preceptor began, "there was a brief time of peace in
Germany. The Count von Mansfeld and Duke Christian of Brunswick were
dead; your uncle, Prince of the Palatinate, and both the Dukes of
Mecklenburg were driven out of the country, and the Danish King had been
compelled to make peace. It was confidently expected that the Army of
the League, led by Tilly, would be withdrawn to Bavaria and that of
Wallenstein into the imperial dominions, and then there would be peace
everywhere in Germany, which was bleeding from a thousand wounds and
needed peace for its own recuperation. But the Emperor Ferdinand
prevented it. The Jesuits told him, 'Now or never is the time to crush
out the Reformation. Use it.'
"Ferdinand was only too willing to obey his spiritual masters. He signed
a document called 'The Restitutions Edict.' I will give you only its
principal provisions. All the sees and ecclesiastical property
appropriated since the treaty of Passau (1525), shall be restored to the
Catholics. Every Catholic prince shall have the right to demand of his
subjects that they embrace his faith, and those who refuse or hesitate
shall be outlawed. As soon as the edict was promulgated the Jesuits and
Capuchins appeared in swarms to regain possession of the promised
property, and the Emperor's soldiers accompanied them on pillaging
expeditions. Augsburg gave up six monasteries and was forced to
recognize the bishop. It was the same in Wurzburg. The excitement in the
Protestant parts of middle and south Germany was almost indescribable.
Lichtenstein's dragoons looted Silesia. Brandenburg also yielded its
right to an archbishopric and gave up its four sees. Matters with us,
however, did not reach so serious a pass, for two good reasons.
Ferdinand wished to establish his son firmly in the succession and
needed the votes of the Electors, as well as that of your gracious
father. For this reason he delayed the enforcement of the edict. But
there was a still stronger reason. A hero, the 'Star of the North,' was
giving him great anxiety. Whom did that name mean? Whom else than the
knightly King, Gustavus Adolphus of Sweden? In the war with Poland he
had shown all the qualities that go to make a hero. The six years'
armistice with that country was accomplished, and it was now expected he
would have something to say about affairs in Germany."
There was some desultory talk about Gustavus Adolphus and his appearance
in Germany, after which Leuchtmar said: "The two Catholic generals,
Wallenstein and Tilly, now had to meet a different enemy from Christian
of Denmark. He had won his spurs when seventeen years of age, in an
expedition against that King. It is now time, however, to bring our talk
to a close, and I will mention only one incident in his career. In the
Polish war it happened upon one occasion that his courage outran his
prudence, and he suddenly found himself surrounded by his enemies. Death
or capture seemed the only alternative, and he decided to die fighting.
Right and left his foes fell before his stout blows. At the critical
moment a Swedish cavalryman supported by his comrades rescued the King
at the risk of their own lives. Not long afterwards the King found his
rescuer a captive. He dashed into the crowd and freed him in turn.
'Brother comrade,' he called out, 'now we are even with each other.' My
Prince, how do you like your cousin?"
The Prince made no reply in words but his eyes spoke what he thought.
The old Preceptor's eyes flashed also when he arose, Bible in hand, and
said: "Yes, yes, he is coming! the 'Hero of the North'--the 'Lion of the
Northland,' as he is variously called. He will be our David, and the
Lord will give him strength to vanquish his enemies. Now let us
reverently read the Twenty-seventh Psalm, which begins with these words:
'The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? The Lord is
the strength of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?'"