RHODOLPH III. AND MATTHIAS.
From 1604 to 1609.
Botskoi's Manifesto.--Horrible Suffering in Transylvania.--Character of
Botskoi.--Confidence of the Protestants.--Superstition of Rhodolph.--His
Mystic Studies.--Acquirements of Matthias.--Schemes of Matthias.--His
Increasing Power.--Treaty with the Turks.--Demands on Rhodolph.--The
Compromise.--Perfidy of Matthias.--The Margravite.--Filibustering.--The
People's Diet.--A Hint to Royalty.--The Bloodless Triumph.--Demands of
the Germans.--Address of the Prince of Anhalt to the King.
Stephen Botskoi issued a spirited manifesto to his countrymen, urging
them to seek by force of arms that redress which they could obtain in no
other way. The Hungarians flocked in crowds to his standard. Many
soldiers deserted from the service of the emperor and joined the
insurrection. Botskoi soon found himself in possession of a force
sufficiently powerful to meet the Austrian troops in the field. The two
hostile armies soon met in the vicinity of Cassau. The imperial troops
were defeated with great slaughter, and the city of Cassau fell into the
hands of Botskoi; soon his victorious troops took several other
important fortresses. The inhabitants of Transylvania, encouraged by the
success of Botskoi, and detesting the imperial rule, also in great
numbers crowded his ranks and intreated him to march into Transylvania.
He promptly obeyed their summons. The misery of the Transylvanians was,
if possible, still greater than that of the Hungarians. Their country
presented but a wide expanse of ruin and starvation. Every aspect of
comfort and industry was obliterated. The famishing inhabitants were
compelled to use the most disgusting animals for food; and when these
were gone, in many cases they went to the grave-yard, in the frenzied
torments of hunger, and devoured the decaying bodies of the dead.
Pestilence followed in the train of these woes, and the land was filled
with the dying and the dead.
The Turks marched to the aid of Botskoi to expel the Austrians. Even the
sway of the Mussulman was preferable to that of the bigoted Rhodolph.
Hungary, Transylvania and Turkey united, and the detested Austrians were
driven out of Transylvania, and Botskoi, at the head of his victorious
army, and hailed by thousands as the deliverer of Transylvania, was
inaugurated prince of the province. He then returned to Hungary, where
an immense Turkish army received him, in the plains of Rahoz, with regal
honors. Here a throne was erected. The banners of the majestic host
fluttered in the breeze, and musical bands filled the air with their
triumphal strains as the regal diadem was placed upon the brow of
Botskoi, and he was proclaimed King of Hungary. The Sultan Achment sent,
with his congratulations to the victorious noble, a saber of exquisite
temper and finish, and a gorgeous standard. The grand vizier himself
placed the royal diadem upon his brow.
Botskoi was a nobleman in every sense of the word. He thought it best
publicly to accept these honors in gratitude to the sultan for his
friendship and aid, and also to encourage and embolden the Hungarians to
retain what they had already acquired. He knew that there were bloody
battles still before them, for the emperor would doubtless redouble his
efforts to regain his Hungarian possessions. At the same time Botskoi,
in the spirit of true patriotism, was not willing even to appear to have
usurped the government through the energies of the sword. He therefore
declared that he should not claim the crown unless he should be freely
elected by the nobles; and that he accepted these honors simply as
tokens of the confidence of the allied army, and as a means of
strengthening their power to resist the emperor.
The campaign was now urged with great vigor, and nearly all of Hungary
was conquered. Such was the first great disaster which the intolerance
and folly of Rhodolph brought upon him. The Turks and the Hungarians
were now good friends, cordially coöperating. A few more battles would
place them in possession of the whole of Hungary, and then, in their
alliance they could defy all the power of the emperor, and penetrate
even the very heart of his hereditary dominions of Austria. Rhodolph, in
this sudden peril, knew not where to look for aid. The Protestants, who
constituted one half of the physical force, not only of Bohemia and of
the Austrian States, but of all Germany, had been insulted and oppressed
beyond all hope of reconciliation. They dreaded the papal emperor more
than the Mohammedan sultan. They were ready to hail Botskoi as their
deliverer from intolerable despotism, and to swell the ranks of his
army. Botskoi was a Protestant, and the sympathies of the Protestants
all over Germany were with him. Elated by his advance, the Protestants
withheld all contributions from the emperor, and began to form
combinations in favor of the Protestant chief. Rhodolph was astonished
at this sudden reverse, and quite in dismay. He had no resource but to
implore the aid of the Spanish court.
Rhodolph was as superstitious as he was bigoted and cruel. Through the
mysteries of alchymy he had been taught to believe that his life would
be endangered by one of his own blood. The idea haunted him by night and
by day; he was to be assassinated, and by a near relative. He was afraid
to marry lest his own child might prove his destined murderer. He was
afraid to have his brothers marry lest it might be a nephew who was to
perpetrate the deed. He did not dare to attend church, or to appear any
where in public without taking the greatest precautions against any
possibility of attack. The galleries of his palace were so arranged with
windows in the roof, that he could pass from one apartment to another
sheltered by impenetrable walls.
This terror, which pursued him every hour, palsied his energies; and
while the Turks were drawing nearer to his capital, and Hungary had
broken from his sway, and insurrection was breaking out in all parts of
his dominions, he secluded himself in the most retired apartments of his
palace at Prague, haunted by visions of terror, as miserable himself as
he had already made millions of his subjects. He devoted himself to the
study of the mystic sciences of astrology and alchymy. He became
irritable, morose, and melancholy even to madness. Foreign ambassadors
could not get admission to his presence. His religion, consisting
entirely in ecclesiastical rituals and papal dogmas, not in Christian
morals, could not dissuade him from the most degrading sensual vice.
Low-born mistresses, whom he was continually changing, became his only
companions, and thus sunk in sin, shame and misery, he virtually
abandoned his ruined realms to their fate.
Rhodolph had received the empire from the hands of his noble father in a
state of the very highest prosperity. In thirty years, by shameful
misgovernment, he had carried it to the brink of ruin. Rhodolph's third
brother, Matthias, was now forty-nine years of age. He had been educated
by the illustrious Busbequias, whose mind had been liberalized by study
in the most celebrated universities of Flanders, France and Italy. His
teacher had passed many years as an ambassador in the court of the
sultan, and thus had been able to give his pupil a very intimate
acquaintance with the resources, the military tactics, the manners and
customs of the Turks. He excelled in military exercises, and was
passionately devoted to the art of war. In all respects he was the
reverse of his brother--energetic, frank, impulsive. The two brothers,
so dissimilar, had no ideas in common, and were always involved in
bickerings.
The Netherlands had risen in revolt against the infamous Philip II. of
Spain. They chose the intrepid and warlike Matthias as their leader.
With alacrity he assumed the perilous post. The rivalry of the chiefs
thwarted his plans, and he resigned his post and returned to Austria,
where his brother, the emperor, refused even to see him, probably
fearing assassination. Matthias took up his residence at Lintz, where he
lived for some time in obscurity and penury. His imperial brother would
neither give him help nor employment. The restless prince fretted like a
tiger in his cage.
In 1595 Rhodolph's second brother, Ernest, died childless, and thus
Matthias became heir presumptive to the crown of Austria. From that time
Rhodolph made a change, and intrusted him with high offices. Still the
brothers were no nearer to each other in affection. Rhodolph dreaded the
ambition and was jealous of the rising power of his brother. He no
longer dared to treat him ignominiously, lest his brother should be
provoked to some desperate act of retaliation. On the other hand,
Matthias despised the weakness and superstition of Rhodolph. The
increasing troubles in the realm and the utter inefficiency of Rhodolph,
convinced Matthias that the day was near when he must thrust Rhodolph
from the throne he disgraced, and take his seat upon it, or the splendid
hereditary domains which had descended to them from their ancestors
would pass from their hands forever.
With this object in view, he did all he could to conciliate the
Catholics, while he attempted to secure the Protestants by promising to
return to the principles of toleration established by his father,
Maximilian. Matthias rapidly increased in popularity, and as rapidly
Rhodolph was sinking into disgrace. Catholics and Protestants saw alike
that the ruin of Austria was impending, and that apparently there was no
hope but in the deposition of Rhodolph and the enthronement of Matthias.
It was not difficult to accomplish this revolution, and yet it required
energy, secrecy and an extended combination. Even the weakest reigning
monarch has power in his hands which can only be wrested from him by
both strength and skill. Matthias first gained over to his plan his
younger brother, Maximilian, and two of his cousins, princes of the
Styrian line. They entered into a secret agreement, by which they
declared that in consequence of the incapacity of Rhodolph, he was to be
considered as deposed by the will of Providence, and that Matthias was
entitled to the sovereignty as head of the house of Austria. Matthias
then gained, by the varied arts of diplomatic bargaining, the promised
support of several other princes. He purchased the coöperation of
Botskoi by surrendering to him the whole of Transylvania, and all of
Hungary to the river Theiss, which, including Transylvania, constitutes
one half of the majestic kingdom. Matthias agreed to grant general
toleration to all Protestants, both Lutherans and Calvinists, and also
to render them equally eligible with the Catholics to all offices of
emolument and honor. Both parties then agreed to unite against the Turks
if they refused to accede to honorable terms of peace. The sultan,
conscious that such a union would be more than he could successfully
oppose, listened to the conditions of peace when they afterwards made
them, as he had never condescended to listen before. It is indicative of
the power which the Turks had at that day attained, that a truce with
the sultan for twenty years, allowing each party to retain possession of
the territories which they then held, was purchased by paying a sum
outright, amounting to two hundred thousand dollars. The annual tribute,
however, was no longer to be paid, and thus Christendom was released
from the degradation of vassalage to the Turk.
Rhodolph, who had long looked with a suspicious eye upon Matthias,
watching him very narrowly, began now to see indications of the plot. He
therefore, aided by the counsel and the energy of the King of Spain, who
was implacable in his hostility to Matthias, resolved to make his cousin
Ferdinand, a Styrian prince, his heir to succeed him upon the throne. He
conferred upon Ferdinand exalted dignities; appointed him to preside in
his stead at a diet at Ratisbon, and issued a proclamation full of most
bitter recriminations against Matthias.
Matters had now come to such a pass that Matthias was compelled either
to bow in humble submission to his brother, or by force of arms to
execute his purposes. With such an alternative he was not a man long to
delay his decision. Still he advanced in his plans, though firmly, with
great circumspection. To gain the Protestants was to gain one half of
the physical power of united Austria, and more than one half of its
energy and intelligence. He appointed a rendezvous for his troops at
Znaim in Moravia, and while Rhodolph was timidly secluding himself in
his palace at Prague, Matthias left Vienna with ten thousand men, and
marched to meet them. He was received by the troops assembled at Znaim
with enthusiasm. Having thus collected an army of twenty-five thousand
men, he entered Bohemia. On the 10th of May, 1608, he reached Craslau,
within sixty miles of Prague. Great multitudes now crowded around him
and openly espoused his cause. He now declared openly and to all, that
it was his intention to depose his brother and claim for himself the
government of Hungary, Austria and Bohemia.
He then urged his battalions onward, and pressed with rapid march
towards Prague. Rhodolph was now roused to some degree of energy. He
summoned all his supporters to rally around him. It was a late hour for
such a call, but the Catholic nobles generally, all over the kingdom,
were instantly in motion. Many Protestant nobles also attended the
assembly, hoping to extort from the emperor some measures of toleration.
The emperor was so frightened that he was ready to promise almost any
thing. He even crept from his secluded apartments and presided over the
meeting in person. The Protestant nobles drew up a paper demanding the
same toleration which Maximilian had granted, with the additional
permission to build churches and to have their own burying-grounds. With
this paper, to which five or six hundred signatures were attached, they
went to the palace, demanded admission to the emperor, and required him
immediately to give his assent to them. It was not necessary for them to
add any threat, for the emperor knew that there was an Austrian and
Hungarian army within a few hours' march.
While matters were in this state, commissioners from Matthias arrived to
inform the king that he must cede the crown to his brother and retire
into the Tyrol. The emperor, in terror, inquired, "What shall I do?" The
Protestants demanded an immediate declaration, either that he would or
would not grant their request. His friends told him that resistance was
unavailing, and that he must come to an accommodation. Still the emperor
had now thirty-six thousand troops in and around Prague. They were,
however, inspired with no enthusiasm for his person, and it was quite
doubtful whether they would fight. A few skirmishes took place between
the advance guards with such results as to increase Rhodolph's alarm.
He consequently sent envoys to his brother. They met at Liebau, and
after a negotiation of four days they made a partial compromise, by
which Rhodolph ceded to Matthias, without reservation, Hungary, Austria
and Moravia. Matthias was also declared to be the successor to the crown
of Bohemia should Rhodolph die without issue male, and Matthias was
immediately to assume the title of "appointed King of Bohemia." The
crown and scepter of Hungary were surrendered to Matthias. He received
them with great pomp at the head of his army, and then leading his
triumphant battalions out of Bohemia, he returned to Vienna and entered
the city with all the military parade of a returning conqueror.
Matthias had now gained his great object, but he was not at all inclined
to fulfill his promises. He assembled the nobles of Austria, to receive
from them their oaths of allegiance. But the Protestants, taught caution
by long experience, wished first to see the decree of toleration which
he had promised. Many of the Protestants, at a distance from the
capital, not waiting for the issuing of the decree, but relying upon his
promise, reëstablished their worship, and the Lord of Inzendorf threw
open his chapel to the citizens of the town. But Matthias was now
disposed to play the despot. He arrested the Lord of Inzendorf, and
closed his church. He demanded of all the lords, Protestant as well as
Catholic, an unconditional oath of allegiance, giving vague promises,
that perhaps at some future time he would promulgate a decree of
toleration, but declaring that he was not bound to do so, on the
miserable quibble that, as he had received from Rhodolph a hereditary
title, he was not bound to grant any thing but what he had received.
The Protestants were alarmed and exasperated. They grasped their arms;
they retired in a body from Vienna to Hern; threw garrisons and
provisions into several important fortresses; ordered a levy of every
fifth man; sent to Hungary and Moravia to rally their friends there, and
with amazing energy and celerity formed a league for the defense of
their faith. Matthias was now alarmed. He had not anticipated such
energetic action, and he hastened to Presburg, the capital of Hungary,
to secure, if possible, a firm seat upon the throne. A large force of
richly caparisoned troops followed him, and he entered the capital with
splendor, which he hoped would dazzle the Hungarians. The regal crown
and regalia, studded with priceless jewels, which belonged to Hungary,
he took with him, with great parade. Hungary had been deprived of these
treasures, which were the pride of the nation, for seventy years. But
the Protestant nobles were not to be cajoled with such tinsel. They
remained firm in their demands, and refused to accept him as their
sovereign until the promised toleration was granted. Their claims were
very distinct and intelligible, demanding full toleration for both
Calvinists and Lutherans, and equal eligibility for Protestants with
Catholics, to all governmental offices; none but native Hungarians were
to be placed in office; the king was to reside in Hungary, and when
necessarily absent, was to intrust the government to a regent, chosen
jointly by the king and the nobles; Jesuits were not to be admitted into
the kingdom; no foreign troops were to be admitted, unless there was war
with the Turks, and the king was not to declare war without the consent
of the nobles.
Matthias was very reluctant to sign such conditions, for he was very
jealous of his newly-acquired power as a sovereign. But a refusal would
have exposed him to a civil war, with such forces arrayed against him as
to render the result at least doubtful. The Austrian States were already
in open insurrection. The emissaries of Rhodolph were busy, fanning the
flames of discontent, and making great promises to those who would
restore Rhodolph to the throne. Intolerant and odious as Rhodolph had
been, his great reverses excited sympathy, and many were disposed to
regard Matthias but as a usurper. Thus influenced, Matthias not only
signed all the conditions, but was also constrained to carry them, into
immediate execution. These conditions being fulfilled, the nobles met on
the 19th of November, 1606, and elected Matthias king, and inaugurated
him with the customary forms.
Matthias now returned to Vienna, to quell the insurrection in the
Austrian States. The two countries were so entirely independent of each
other, though now under the same ruler, that he had no fear that his
Hungarian subjects would interfere at all in the internal administration
of Austria. Matthias was resolved to make up for the concessions he had
granted the Hungarians, by ruling with more despotic sway in Austria.
The pope proffered him his aid. The powerful bishops of Passau and
Vienna assured him of efficient support, and encouraged the adoption of
energetic measures. Thus strengthened Matthias, who was so pliant and
humble in Hungary, assumed the most haughty airs of the sovereign in
Austria. He peremptorily ordered the Protestants to be silent, and to
cease their murmurings, or he would visit them with the most exemplary
punishment.
North-east of the duchy of Austria, and lying between the kingdoms of
Hungary and Bohemia, was the province of Moravia. This territory was
about the size of the State of Massachusetts, and its chief noble, or
governor, held the title of margrave, or marquis. Hence the province,
which belonged to the Austrian empire, was called the margraviate of
Moravia. It contained a population of a little over a million. The
nobles of Moravia immediately made common cause with those of Austria,
for they knew that they must share the same fate. Matthias was again
alarmed, and brought to terms. On the 16th of March, 1609, he signed a
capitulation, which restored to all the Austrian provinces all the
toleration which they had enjoyed under Maximilian II. The nobles then,
of all the States of Austria, took the oath of allegiance to Matthias.
The ambitious monarch, having thus for succeeded, looked with a covetous
eye towards Transylvania. That majestic province, on the eastern borders
of Hungary, being three times the size of Massachusetts, and containing
a population of about two millions, would prove a splendid addition to
the Hungarian kingdom. While Matthias was secretly encouraging what in
modern times and republican parlance is called a filibustering
expedition, for the sake of annexing Transylvania to the area of
Hungary, a new object of ambition, and one still more alluring, opened
before him.
The Protestants in Bohemia were quite excited when they heard of the
great privileges which their brethren in Hungary, and in the Austrian
provinces had extorted from Matthias. This rendered them more restless
under the intolerable burdens imposed upon them. Soon after the armies
of Matthias had withdrawn from Bohemia, Rhodolph, according to his
promise, summoned a diet to deliberate upon the state of affairs. The
Protestants, who despised Rhodolph, attended the diet, resolved to
demand reform, and, if necessary, to seek it by force of arms. They at
once assumed a bold front, and refused to discuss any civil affairs
whatever, until the freedom of religious worship, which they had enjoyed
under Maximilian, was restored to them. But Rhodolph, infatuated, and
under the baleful influence of the Jesuits, refused to listen to their
appeal.
Matthias, informed of this state of affairs, saw that there was a fine
opportunity for him to place himself at the head of the Protestants, who
constituted not only a majority in Bohemia, but were also a majority in
the diet. He therefore sent his emissaries among them to encourage them
with assurances of his sympathy and aid. The diet which Rhodolph had
summoned, separated without coming to other result than rousing
thoroughly the spirit of the Protestants. They boldly called another
diet to meet in May, in the city of Prague itself, under the very shadow
of the palace of Rhodolph, and sent deputies to Matthias, and to the
Protestant princes generally of the German empire, soliciting their
support. Rhodolph issued a proclamation forbidding them to meet.
Regardless of this injunction they met, at the appointed time and place,
opened the meeting with imposing ceremonies, and made quiet preparation
to repel force with force. These preparations were so effectually made
that upon an alarm being given that the troops of Rhodolph were
approaching to disperse the assembly, in less than an hour twelve
hundred mounted knights and more than ten thousand foot soldiers
surrounded their hall as a guard.
This was a very broad hint to the emperor, and it surprisingly
enlightened him. He began to bow and to apologize, and to asserverate
upon his word of honor that he meant to do what was right, and from
denunciations, he passed by a single step to cajolery and fawning. It
was, however, only his intention to gain time till he could secure the
coöperation of the pope, and other Catholic princes. The Protestants,
however, were not to be thus deluded. As unmindful of his protestations
as they had been of his menaces, they proceeded resolutely in
establishing an energetic organization for the defense of their civil
and religious rights. They decreed the levying of an army, and appointed
three of the most distinguished nobles as generals. The decree was
hardly passed before it was carried into execution, and an army of three
thousand foot soldiers, and two thousand horsemen was assembled as by
magic, and their numbers were daily increasing.
Rhodolph, still cloistered in his palace, looked with amazement upon
this rising storm. He had no longer energy for any decisive action. With
mulish obstinacy he would concede nothing, neither had he force of
character to marshal any decisive resistance. But at last he saw that
the hand of Matthias was also in the movement; that his ambitious,
unrelenting brother was cooperating with his foes, and would inevitably
hurl him from the throne of Bohemia, as he had already done from the
kingdom of Hungary and from the dukedom of Austria. He was
panic-stricken by this sudden revelation, and in the utmost haste issued
a decree, dated July 5th, 1609, granting to the Protestants full
toleration of religious worship, and every other right they had
demanded. The despotic old king became all of a sudden as docile and
pliant as a child. He assured his faithful and well-beloved Protestant
subjects that they might worship God in their own chapels without any
molestation; that they might build churches that they might establish
schools for their children; that their clergy might meet in
ecclesiastical councils; that they might choose chiefs, who should be
confirmed by the sovereign, to watch over their religious privileges and
to guard against any infringement of this edict; and finally, all
ordinances contrary to this act of free and full toleration, which might
hereafter be issued, either by the present sovereign or any of his
successors, were declared null and void.
The Protestants behaved nobly in this hour of bloodless triumph. Their
demands were reasonable and honorable, and they sought no infringement
whatever of the rights of others. Their brethren of Silesia had aided
them in this great achievement. The duchy of Silesia was then dependent
upon Bohemia, and was just north of Moldavia. It contained a population
of about a million and a half, scattered over a territory of about
fifteen thousand square miles. The Protestants demanded that the
Silesians should share in the decree. "Most certainly," replied the
amiable Rhodolph. An act of general amnesty for all political offenses
was then passed, and peace was restored to Germany.
Never was more forcibly seen, than on this occasion, the power of the
higher classes over the masses of the people. In fact, popular tumults,
disgraceful mobs, are almost invariably excited by the higher classes,
who push the mob on while they themselves keep in the background. It was
now for the interest of the leaders, both Catholic and Protestant, that
there should be peace, and the populace immediately imbibed that spirit.
The Protestant chapel stood by the side of the Romish cathedral, and the
congregations mingled freely in courtesy and kindness, as they passed to
and from their places of worship. Mutual forbearance and good will
seemed at once to be restored. And now the several cities of the German
empire, where religious freedom had been crushed by the emperor, began
to throng his palace with remonstrants and demands. They, united,
resolved at every hazard to attain the privileges which their brethren
in Bohemia and Austria had secured. The Prince of Anhalt, an able and
intrepid man, was dispatched to Prague with a list of grievances. In
very plain language he inveighed against the government of the emperor,
and demanded for Donauworth and other cities of the German empire, the
civil and religious freedom of which Rhodolph had deprived them;
declaring, without any softening of expression, that if the emperor did
not peacefully grant their requests, they would seek redress by force of
arms. The humiliated and dishonored emperor tried to pacify the prince
by vague promises and honeyed words, to which the prince replied in
language which at once informed the emperor that the time for dalliance
had passed.
"I fear," said the Prince of Anhalt, in words which sovereigns are not
accustomed to hear, "that this answer will rather tend to prolong the
dispute than to tranquillize the united princes. I am bound in duty to
represent to your imperial majesty the dangerous flame which I now see
bursting forth in Germany. Your counselors are ill adapted to extinguish
this rising flame--those counselors who have brought you into such
imminent danger, and who have nearly destroyed public confidence, credit
and prosperity throughout your dominions. I must likewise exhort your
imperial majesty to take all important affairs into consideration
yourself, intreating you to recollect the example of Julius Cæsar, who,
had he not neglected to read the note presented to him as he was going
to the capitol, would not have received the twenty wounds which caused
his death."
This last remark threw the emperor into a paroxysm of terror. He had
long been trembling from the apprehension of assassination. This
allusion to Julius Cæsar he considered an intimation that his hour was
at hand. His terror was so great that Prince Anhalt had to assure him,
again and again, that he intended no such menace, and that he was not
aware that any conspiracy was thought of any where, for his death. The
emperor was, however, so alarmed that he promised any thing and every
thing. He doubtless intended to fulfill his promise, but subsequent
troubles arose which absorbed all his remaining feeble energies, and
obliterated past engagements from his mind.
Matthias was watching all the events with the intensest eagerness, as
affording a brilliant prospect to him, to obtain the crown of Bohemia,
and the scepter of the empire. This ambition consumed his days and his
nights, verifying the adage, "uneasy lies the head which wears a crown."