in scorn, when the news reached Vienna. Little did the enemies of the
Reformation then imagine what a terrible and irresistible foe this
despised “kingling” would prove to be. The army of Gustavus consisted
of only fifteen thousand men; but, if his army was small, the material
was indeed valuable. Gustavus said of his staff of officers, “All these
are captains, and fit to command armies.” And when his early death left
them without a leader, these same officers led the Swedish armies so
successfully that, even after France had become her ally, Sweden was
not obscured, but still held a prominent place in the mighty contest.
Gustavus had determined not to hazard a battle until he was joined
by German allies. As soon as they landed on the island of Usedom,
Gustavus, having leaped first upon the shore, at once fell upon his
knees, and sought the aid and blessing of God; and then the working and
the praying went hand in hand. He was the first to seize a spade; and,
as the troops landed, one half were employed in raising intrenchments,
while the other half stood in battle array, to repel any attacks of
the enemy. It was a long time before any German ally appeared; for,
though gallant little Hesse Cassel boldly announced its allegiance,
it was a power too small and too distant to count for much. The two
most powerful of the German Protestant princes were his brother-in-law,
the elector of Brandenburg, and the elector of Saxony. John George of
Saxony was a great hunter, having killed with his own hand or seen
killed 113,629 wild animals. He was, however, such a great drunkard
that he was called the Beer King. But this bold Nimrod, who could fight
wild animals so courageously, was too cowardly to come forward against
the enemies of his country, and only joined Gustavus when the terrors
of the Catholic league forced him to seek safety in such an alliance.
As to the brother-in-law of Gustavus, little was to be obtained from
him. He was so vacillating in character and in politics that Carlyle
says of him, “Poor man, it was his fate to stand in the range of these
huge collisions, when the Titans were hurling rocks at one another, and
he hoped by dexterous skipping to escape share of the game.”
The arrival of Gustavus Adolphus in Germany was at first looked upon
with indifference by the imperial court. The emperor Ferdinand said
carelessly, “We have another little enemy before us.” At Vienna they
made sport of Gustavus and of his pretensions to require himself
to be called “Your majesty,” like the other kings of Europe. “The
snow-king will melt as he approaches the southern sun,” they exclaimed
derisively. But the valiant Swedes worked on at their fortifications
at Pomerania, indifferent to the sneers of their foes, inspired by the
example of their loved leader, whose watchword was, “to pray often to
God with all your heart is almost to conquer.” In a short time, the
army was enclosed in an intrenched camp, defended by cannon. The king
of Sweden then addressed these stirring words to his soldiers:—
“It is as much on your account as for your religious brethren in
Germany that I have undertaken this war. You will there gather
imperishable glory. You have nothing to fear from the enemy; they are
the same whom you have already conquered in Prussia. Your bravery has
imposed on Poland an armistice of six years; if you continue to fight
as valiantly, I hope to obtain an honorable peace for your country and
guaranties of security for the German Protestants. Old soldiers, it is
not of yesterday you have known war; for you have shared with me all
the chances of fortune. You must not lose courage if you experience
some wants. I will conduct you to an enemy who has enriched himself at
the expense of that unhappy country. It is only with the enemy you can
find money, abundance, and all which you desire.”
Thus did Gustavus appeal to their courage, their patriotism, their
religious enthusiasm, and their personal necessities, and inspire his
soldiers with irresistible valor.
The severe discipline of the Swedish troops excited not less admiration
than the personal virtue of their king. Richelieu, in his memoirs,
says, “As to the king of Sweden personally, there was seen in his
actions but an inexorable severity towards the least excess of his
soldiers, an extraordinary mildness towards the people, and an exact
justice on all occasions.”
It was at the time of the landing of the Swedes that the noted general
Wallenstein had fallen into disgrace with the German emperor, and had
been discharged from the imperial service. His place was filled by
Tilly, a military chieftain of high renown. Tilly had made himself
the terror of the Protestants by his bigoted zeal for the Catholic
religion and his fierce spirit of persecution towards the Reformed
Faith; but his military insight made him just enough to thus generously
describe his famous antagonist:—
“The king of Sweden is an enemy both prudent and brave, inured to war,
and in the flower of his age. His plans are excellent, his resources
considerable, his subjects enthusiastically attached to him. His
army,—composed of Swedes, Germans, Livonians, Finlanders, Scots, and
English,—by its devoted obedience to their leader, is blended into one
nation. He is a gamester, in playing with whom not to have lost is to
have won a great deal.”
Gustavus was beginning to make a strong position in northern Germany,
when he received an envoy from the elector of Brandenburg, urging him
to consent to an armistice, the elector offering himself as a mediator
between the Swedish king and the Catholic league. Gustavus thus
answered this weak and cowardly advice of the elector:—
“I have listened to the arguments by which my lord and brother-in-law
would seek to dissuade me from the war, but could well have expected
another communication from him; namely, that God having helped me thus
far, and come, as I am, into this land for no other end than to deliver
its poor and oppressed estates and people from the horrible tyranny of
the thieves and robbers who have plagued it so long, above all, to free
his highness from like tribulation, he would rather have joined himself
with me, and thus not failed to seize the opportunity which God has
wonderfully vouchsafed him. Or does not his highness yet know that the
intention of the emperor and of the league is this,—not to cease till
the evangelical religion is quite rooted out of the empire, and that
he himself has nothing else to look forward to than to be compelled
either to deny his faith or to forsake his land? For God’s sake, let
him bethink himself a little, and for once grasp manly counsels. For
myself, I cannot go back.... I seek in this work not mine own things,
no profit at all except the safety of my kingdom; else have I nothing
from it but expense, weariness, toil, and danger of life and limb....
For this, I say plainly beforehand, I will hear and know nothing of
neutrality; his highness must be friend or foe. When I come to his
borders, he must declare himself hot or cold. The battle is one between
God and the devil. Will his highness hold with God, let him stand on my
side; if he prefer to hold with the devil, then he must fight with me.”
The elector of Brandenburg still vacillating, the king of Sweden was
as good as his word, and advanced with his army, with loaded cannon
and matches burning, to the gates of Berlin. Whereupon, the treaty of
alliance was quickly signed by the elector of Brandenburg; and not long
after, the outrages of the imperial commander obliged the elector of
Saxony also to join the Swedish king. During the first year in Germany,
the Swedes had captured Greiffenhagen and Gartz; and soon after New
Brandenburg, Loitz, Malchin, and Demmin were in their power. We have no
space to note the particulars regarding these important conquests, and
can only mention the taking of Demmin. The Imperialists had placed the
garrison here under the command of Duke Savelli, who had been ordered
to defend the place three weeks, when Tilly had promised to come to his
aid. Among the Imperialists was Del Ponte, a man who had been deep in a
conspiracy to assassinate the king of Sweden, which had come near being
successful. As Del Ponte feared the vengeance of the king whose life
he had thus sought, he left the fortress secretly, leaving his baggage
and wealth behind him. Savelli offered to capitulate, on condition that
he might pass out with arms and baggage. As Gustavus was now on the eve
of meeting Tilly, he did not think best to prolong the siege, and so
agreed to the proposal of Savelli. The entire garrison passed out with
ensigns flying, followed by the baggage train. As Savelli, brilliantly
and carefully dressed, passed the Swedish king, Gustavus addressed
him: “Tell the emperor I make war for civil and religious liberty. As
to you, duke, I thank you for having taken the trouble to quit the
splendid feasts of Rome to combat against me, for your person seems to
me more in its place at courts than in the camps.” After the Italian
general passed, Gustavus remarked to his officers, “That man reckons
much on the good nature of the emperor; if he was in my service, he
would lose his head for his cowardice.”
As the baggage of the treacherous Del Ponte was noticed in the train,
some of the Swedish officers suggested that it would be well to retain
what belonged to that traitor, to which Gustavus responded, “I have
given my word, and no one shall have the right to reproach me for
having broken it.” As to the energy and bravery of Gustavus, one of
his Scotch officers thus testifies: “I serve with great pleasure such
a general, and I could find with difficulty a similar man who was
accustomed to be the first and the last where there is danger; who
gained the love of his officers by the part he took in their troubles
and fatigues; who knew so well how to trace the rules of conduct for
his warriors according to times and circumstances; who cared for their
health, their honor; who was always ready to aid them; who divined
the projects and knew the resources of his enemies, their plans,
their forces, their discipline, likewise the nature and position of
the places they occupied. He never hesitated to execute what he had
ordered. He arrested an officer who, while the fortifications of Settin
were being repaired, stated that the earth was frozen. In affairs which
had relation to the needs of the war, he did not admit of excuses. The
lack of good charts and the great importance he attached to knowledge
of the ground, caused him to go _en reconnaissance_ in person, and
expose himself very near to danger, for he was short-sighted.”
At the siege of Demmin he had gone to reconnoitre, and held a spy-glass
in hand, when he plunged half-leg deep in the marsh, in consequence
of the breaking of the ice. The officer nearest to him prepared to
come to his aid. Gustavus made a sign to him to remain tranquil, so
as not to draw the attention of the enemy who, not less, directed his
fire upon him. The king raised himself up in the midst of a shower
of projectiles, and went to dry himself at the bivouac fire of the
officer, who reproached him for having thus exposed his precious life.
The king listened to the officer with kindness and acknowledged his
imprudence, but added, “It is my nature not to believe well done except
what I do myself; it is also necessary that I see everything by my own
eyes.” Gustavus now advanced boldly into the heart of Germany, and met
the forces of the Catholic League on the plains of Leipsic. As the
Swedes drew up in line of battle, Gustavus rode from point to point,
encouraging his soldiers, telling them “not to fire until they saw the
white of the enemies’ eyes.”
Then the Swedish king rode to the centre of his line, halted, removed
his cap with one hand and lowered his sword with the other. His
example was followed by all near him. Gustavus then offered this brief
prayer in a powerful voice, which enabled him to be heard by a large
number of his army:—
“Good God, thou who holdest in thy hand victory and defeat, turn thy
merciful face to us thy servants. We have come far, we have left our
peaceful homes to combat in this country for liberty, for the truth,
and for thy gospel. Glorify thy holy name in granting us victory.”
Then the Swedish king sent a trumpeter to challenge Tilly and his army.
The battle ensued, in which Gustavus defeated Tilly, the victor on
more than twenty battle-fields. The king of Sweden so shattered and
scattered the Catholic army in this conflict, that for a while all
Germany was open to him. Gustavus was now everywhere hailed by the
down-trodden Protestants of Germany, whose worship he re-established,
and whose churches he restored to them, as their saviour and deliverer.
The very excess of their gratitude would sometimes make him afraid.
Only three days before his death he said to his chaplain, “They make a
god of me; God will punish me for this.”
The appearance of Gustavus at this time is thus described: “He was one
‘framed in the prodigality of nature.’ His look proclaimed the hero,
and at the same time, the genuine child of the North. A head taller
than men of the ordinary stature, yet all his limbs were perfectly
proportioned.” Majesty and courage shone out from his clear gray eyes;
while, at the same time, an air of mildness and _bonhommie_ tempered
the earnestness of his glance. He had the curved eagle nose of Cæsar,
of Napoleon, of Wellington, of Napier,—the conqueror’s nose as we may
call it. His skin was fair, his hair blonde, almost gold-colored, so
that the Italians were wont to call him, _Re d’oro_ or the Gold-king.
In latter years he was somewhat inclined to corpulence, though not so
much as to detract from the majesty of his appearance. This made it,
however, not easy to find a horse which was equal to his weight.
Gustavus now carried his victorious arms to the banks of the Rhine,
where there still stands, not far from Mayence, what is known as the
Swedish column. On the banks of the Lech he again met Tilly, who
would have barred the way. Some of the officers in the Swedish army
counselled that the king should not meet Tilly, but should march to
Bohemia.
The Lech was deep and rapid, and to cross it in the face of an enemy
was very hazardous. In case of failure the entire Swedish army would
be lost. But Gustavus exclaimed, “What! have we crossed the Baltic,
the Oder, the Elbe, and the Rhine, to stop stupefied before this mere
stream, the Lech? Remember that the undertakings the most difficult are
often those which succeed best, because the adverse party regard them
as impossible.”
Gustavus threw over the Lech a bridge under the crossfire of
seventy-two pieces of cannon. The king stimulated his troops by his own
example, making with his own hand more than sixty cannon discharges.
The enemy did their utmost to destroy the works, and Tilly was
undaunted in his exertions to encourage his men, until he was mortally
wounded by a cannon-ball, and victory soon was on the side of the
heroic Swedes.
This crossing of the Lech in the face of an enemy is esteemed the most
signal military exploit of Gustavus. The emperor was now forced to
recall Wallenstein to lead the hard-pressed Imperialists against this
invincible Swedish king.
But with the battle of Lützen, where the Swedes encountered the
Imperialists under Wallenstein, we come also to the lamentable but
heroic death of Gustavus Adolphus. We cannot recount the further
conflicts of the Thirty Years’ War.
The work of Gustavus Adolphus in Germany was continued by his able
generals and allies, until at length the treaty, concluded at
Westphalia in 1648, gave security and permanence to the work which the
king of Sweden and his brave soldiers had in a large degree achieved
before his death. A wound which Gustavus had received in his Polish
wars, made the wearing of armor very painful to him, and upon the
morning of the day upon which the battle of Lützen was fought, when his
armor was brought to him, he declined to put it on, saying, “God is my
armor.”
His death is thus described. Learning that the centre of the Swedish
lines were wavering, Gustavus hastened thither. “Arriving at the
wavering centre, he cried to his troops, ‘Follow me, my brave boys!’
and his horse at a bound bore him across the ditch. Only a few of his
cavaliers followed him, their steeds not being equal to his. Owing to
his impetuosity, perhaps also to his nearsightedness and the increasing
fog, he did not perceive to what extent he was in advance, and became
separated from the troops he was so bravely leading. An imperial
corporal, noticing that the Swedes made way for an advancing cavalier,
pointed him out to a musketeer, saying, he must be a personage of high
rank, and urged him to fire on him. The musketeer took aim, his ball
broke the left arm of the king, causing the bone to protrude, and the
blood to run freely. ‘The king bleeds!’ cried the Swedes near him. ‘It
is nothing; march forward my boys!’ responded the wounded hero, seeking
to calm their disquietude by assuming a smiling countenance. But soon
overcome by pain and loss of blood, he requested Duke Lauenburg, in
French, to lead him out of the tumult without being observed, which was
sought to be done by making a _détour_, so as to conceal the king’s
withdrawal from his brave Smolanders he was leading to the charge.
Scarcely had they made a few steps, when one of the imperial regiment
of cuirassiers encountered them, preceded by Lieut.-Col. Falkenberg,
who, recognizing the king, fired a pistol shot, hitting him in the
back. ‘Brother,’ said he to Lauenburg, with a dying voice; ‘I have
enough. Look to your own life.’ Falkenberg was immediately slain by
the equerry of the duke of Lauenburg. At the same moment the king fell
from his horse, struck by several more balls, and was dragged some
distance by the stirrups. The duke of Lauenburg fled. Of the king’s
two orderlies, one lay dead and the other wounded. Of his attendants,
only a German page, named Leubelfing, remained by him. The king having
fallen from his horse, the page jumped from his own, and offered it to
the dying hero. The king stretched out his hands, but the young man
had not strength sufficient to lift him from the ground. Meanwhile
the imperial cuirassiers hastened forward, and demanded the name of
the wounded officer. The loyal page would not reveal it, and received
wounds from which he died soon after. But the dying Gustavus bravely
answered, ‘I am the king of Sweden.’ Whereupon his cruel enemies shot
a ball through his head, and thrust their swords through his bleeding
body. His hat, blackened with the powder and pierced with the ball,
is still to be seen in the arsenal at Vienna; his bloody buff coat as
well. More is not known of the final agony, except that, when the tide
of battle had a little ebbed, the body of the hero-king was found with
the face to the ground, despoiled and stripped to the shirt, trodden
under the hoofs of horses, trampled in the mire, and disfigured with
all these wounds.”
[Illustration: DEATH OF GUSTAVUS AND HIS PAGE.]
Such was the end of the imposing and kingly bodily presence; but this
was not the end of the accomplishment of that heroic soul. When the
horse of the fallen Gustavus, with its empty saddle covered with blood,
came running amongst the Swedish troops, they knew what had happened
to their king. Duke Bernhard, riding through the ranks, exclaimed,
“Swedes, Finlanders, and Germans! your defender, the defender of
our liberty, is dead. Life is nothing to me if I do not draw bloody
vengeance from this misfortune. Whoever wishes to prove he loved the
king, has only to follow me to avenge his death.” The whole Swedish
army, fired by a common enthusiasm nerved by desperation, advanced
to the attack, and so valiantly did they fight, that their gallant
charge completed the victory of Lützen. Thus died the “Gold-king of
the North”; but his dying hours were gilded by the sunset glories of
immortal fame, and the “Snow-king,” of Sweden, leaves a name as pure
and glistening as the starry snow-flakes.
“Great men, far more than any Alps or coliseums, are the true
world-wonders, which it concerns us to behold clearly, and imprint
forever on our remembrance. Great men are the fire-pillars in this
dark pilgrimage of mankind; they stand as heavenly signs, ever-living
witnesses of what has been,—prophetic witnesses of what may still
be; the revealed embodied possibilities of human nature, which
greatness he who has never with his whole heart passionately loved and
reverenced, is himself forever doomed to be little.”
LOUIS XIV. OF FRANCE.
1638-1715 A.D.
“To do what one pleases with impunity,
That is to be King.”—SALLUST.
THE reign of Louis XIV., whether regarded politically, socially, or
morally, was undoubtedly the most striking which France has ever
known. The splendor of his court, the successes of his armies, and the
illustrious names that embellished the century over which he ruled,
drew the attention of all Europe to the person of the monarch who,
every inch a king, assumed the authority and power of regality as well
as its mere visible attributes. All Europe looked to France, all France
to Paris, all Paris to Versailles, all Versailles to Louis XIV.
[Illustration: LOUIS XIV.]
The centre of all attraction, he, like the eagle, embraced the whole
glory of the orb upon which he gazed; and seated firmly upon the throne
of France, ruling by the “right divine,” he ushered in the golden age
of literature, himself the theme and gaze and wonder of a dazzled world.
The morning of the 5th of September, 1638, dawned bright and clear. In
the forest of St. Germain, the birds sang merrily in the trees, and the
timid deer sought shelter in the deepest shade, all unconscious that
ere the setting of the sun a royal prince would look upon it for the
first time.
The park and palace were filled with an eager and excited throng;
earls, princes, dukes, and bishops anxiously awaited the announcement
that an heir was born to the crown of France. In the grand salon
of Henry IV., King Louis XIII., the Duke d’Orleans, the bishops of
Lisieux, Meaux, and Beauvais, impatiently awaited the long-expected
tidings. And now the folding-doors are thrown back, and the king is
greeted with the welcome intelligence that he is the father of a
_dauphin_. Tenderly he takes the child, and stepping upon the balcony,
exhibits him to the crowd, exclaiming joyfully, “A son, gentlemen! a
son!” and park and palace re-echo with the shouts of “_Vive le Roi!_”
“_Vive le Dauphin!_”
Thus this baby prince, when first he saw the light, was greeted by
the homage of a court—an homage which, during a life of seventy-seven
years, he ever exacted and received, until as Louis XIV., the _Grand
Monarque_, in obedience to Him who is King of kings and Lord of lords,
he laid aside his sceptre and his crown, and slept with his fathers
in the royal vaults of St. Denis. The birth of the dauphin afforded
Louis XIII. such delight that for a time he threw aside his melancholy
manner; but his health, never robust, failed rapidly, and on the 20th
of April, 1643, feeling that his end could not be far distant, he
declared the regency of the queen, and desired the christening of the
dauphin. It accordingly took place on the following day with much pomp
in the chapel at St. Germain. The king desired he should be called
Louis, and after the ceremony, when the little prince was carried to
his bedside in order to ascertain if his wishes had been fulfilled, he
demanded, “What is your name, my child?” And the little dauphin replied
promptly, “I am Louis XIV.”
“Not yet, my son, not yet!” said the dying king; “but I pray to God
that it may soon be so.”
From this time his health failed rapidly, and on the 14th of May, 1643,
he expired, having reigned thirty-three years.
The little dauphin early displayed that haughtiness and self-will which
were to be the ruling principles of his life. His education had been
grossly neglected, and through this came many of his after faults; and
though he excelled in every punctilio of court etiquette, and was the
very essence of politeness, yet in other things he was far behind the
other youths of his age. This was exactly as Cardinal Mazarin intended
that it should be, that by thus dwarfing the intellect of the king, he
might the longer grasp the reins of government. The wily cardinal fully
understood the character of the young prince with whom he had to deal,
and upon one occasion, when some one remonstrated with him concerning
the course he had adopted toward the king, he replied, “Ah, you do not
know His Majesty! he has the stuff in him to make four kings and an
honest man.”