MATTHIAS.
From 1612 to 1619.
Matthias Elected Emperor of Germany.--His despotic Character.--His Plans
thwarted.--Mulheim.--Gathering Clouds.--Family Intrigue.--Coronation of
Ferdinand.--His Bigotry.--Henry, Count of Thurn.--Convention at
Prague.--The King's Reply.--The Die cast.--Amusing Defense of an
Outrage.--Ferdinand's Manifesto.--Seizure of Cardinal Kleses.--The
King's Rage.--Retreat of the King's Troops.--Humiliation of
Ferdinand.--The Difficulties referred.--Death of Matthias.
Upon the death of Rhodolph, Matthias promptly offered himself as a
candidate for the imperial crown. But the Catholics, suspicious of
Matthias, in consequence of his connection with the Protestants,
centered upon the Archduke Albert, sovereign of the Netherlands, as
their candidate. Many of the Protestants, also, jealous of the vast
power Matthias was attaining, and not having full confidence in his
integrity, offered their suffrages to Maximilian, the younger brother of
Matthias. But notwithstanding this want of unanimity, political intrigue
removed all difficulties and Matthias was unanimously elected Emperor of
Germany.
The new emperor was a man of renown. His wonderful achievements had
arrested the attention of Europe, and it was expected that in his hands
the administration of the empire would be conducted with almost
unprecedented skill and vigor. But clouds and storms immediately began
to lower around the throne. Matthias had no spirit of toleration in his
heart, and every tolerant act he had assented to, had been extorted from
him. He was, by nature, a despot, and most reluctantly, for the sake of
grasping the reins of power, he had relinquished a few of the royal
prerogatives. He had thus far evaded many of the claims which had been
made upon him, and which he had partially promised to grant, and now,
being both king and emperor, he was disposed to grasp all power, both
secular and religious, which he could attain.
Matthias's first endeavor was to recover Transylvania. This province had
fallen into the hands of Gabriel Bethlehem, who was under the protection
of the Turks. Matthias, thinking that a war with the infidel would be
popular, summoned a diet and solicited succors to drive the Turks from
Moldavia and Wallachia, where they had recently established themselves.
The Protestants, however, presented a list of grievances which they
wished to have redressed before they listened to his request. The
Catholics, on the other hand, presented a list of their grievances,
which consisted, mainly, in privileges granted the Protestants, which
they also demanded to have redressed before they could vote any supplies
to the emperor. These demands were so diametrically hostile to each
other, that there could be no reconciliation. After an angry debate the
diet broke up in confusion, having accomplished nothing.
Matthias, disappointed in this endeavor, now applied to the several
States of his widely extended Austrian domains--to his own subjects. A
general assembly was convened at Lintz. Matthias proposed his plans,
urging the impolicy of allowing the Turks to retain the conquered
provinces, and to remain in the ascendency in Transylvania. But here
again Matthias was disappointed. The Bohemian Protestants were indignant
in view of some restrictions upon their worship, imposed by the emperor
to please the Catholics. The Hungarians, weary of the miseries of war,
were disposed on any terms to seek peace with the Turks. The Austrians
had already expended an immense amount of blood and money on the
battle-fields of Hungary, and urged the emperor to send an ambassador to
treat for peace. Matthias was excessively annoyed in being thus thwarted
in all his plans.
Just at this time a Turkish envoy arrived at Vienna, proposing a truce
for twenty years. The Turks had never before condescended to send an
embassage to a Christian power. This afforded Matthias an honorable
pretext for abandoning his warlike plan, and the truce was agreed to.
The incessant conflict between the Catholics and Protestants allowed
Germany no repose. A sincere toleration, such as existed during the
reign of Maximilian I., established fraternal feelings between the
contending parties. But it required ages of suffering and peculiar
combination of circumstances, to lead the king and the nobles to a
cordial consent to that toleration. But the bigotry of Rhodolph and the
trickery of Matthias, had so exasperated the parties, and rendered them
so suspicious of each other, that the emperor, even had he been so
disposed, could not, but by very slow and gradual steps, have secured
reconciliation. Rhodolph had put what was called the ban of the empire
upon the Protestant city of Aix-la-Chapelle, removing the Protestants
from the magistracy, and banishing their chiefs from the city. When
Rhodolph was sinking into disgrace and had lost his power, the
Protestants, being in the majority, took up arms, reflected their
magistracy, and expelled the Jesuits from the city. The Catholics now
appealed to Matthias, and he insanely revived the ban against the
Protestants, and commissioned Albert, Archduke of Cologne, a bigoted
Catholic, to march with an army to Aix-la-Chapelle and enforce its
execution.
Opposite Cologne, on the Rhine, the Protestants, in the days of bitter
persecution, had established the town of Mulheim. Several of the
neighboring Protestant princes defended with their arms the refugees who
settled there from all parts of Germany. The town was strongly
fortified, and here the Protestants, with arms in their hands,
maintained perfect freedom of religious worship. The city grew rapidly
and became one of the most important fortresses upon the river. The
Catholics, jealous of its growing power, appealed to the emperor. He
issued a decree ordering the Protestants to demolish every fortification
of the place within thirty days; and to put up no more buildings
whatever.
These decrees were both enforced by the aid of a Spanish army of thirty
thousand men, which, having executed the ban, descended the river and
captured several others of the most important of the Protestant towns.
Of course all Germany was in a ferment. Everywhere was heard the
clashing of arms, and every thing indicated the immediate outburst of
civil war. Matthias was in great perplexity, and his health rapidly
failed beneath the burden of care and sorrow. All the thoughts of
Matthias were now turned to the retaining of the triple crown of
Bohemia, Hungary and the empire, in the family. Matthias was old, sick
and childless. Maximilian, his next brother, was fifty-nine years of age
and unmarried. The next brother, Albert, was fifty-eight, and without
children. Neither of the brothers could consequently receive the crowns
with any hope of retaining them in the family. Matthias turned to his
cousin Ferdinand, head of the Styrian branch of the family, as the
nearest relative who was likely to continue the succession. In
accordance with the custom which had grown up, Matthias wished to
nominate his successor, and have him recognized and crowned before his
death, so that immediately upon his death the new sovereign, already
crowned, could enter upon the government without any interregnum.
The brothers, appreciating the importance of retaining the crown in the
family, and conscious that all the united influence they then possessed
was essential to securing that result, assented to the plan, and
coöperated in the nomination of Ferdinand. All the arts of diplomatic
intrigue were called into requisition to attain these important ends.
The Bohemian crown was now electoral; and it was necessary to persuade
the electors to choose Ferdinand, one of the most intolerant Catholics
who ever swayed a scepter. The crown of Hungary was nominally
hereditary. But the turbulent nobles, ever armed, and strong in their
fortresses, would accept no monarch whom they did not approve. To secure
also the electoral vote for Emperor of Germany, while parties were so
divided and so bitterly hostile to each other, required the most adroit
application of bribes and menaces.
Matthias made his first movement in Bohemia. Having adopted previous
measures to gain the support of the principal nobles, he summoned a diet
at Prague, which he attended in person, accompanied by Ferdinand. In a
brief speech he thus addressed them.
"As I and my brothers," said the king, "are without children, I deem it
necessary, for the advantage of Bohemia, and to prevent future contests,
that my cousin Ferdinand should be proclaimed and crowned king. I
therefore request you to fix a day for the confirmation of this
appointment."
Some of the leading Protestants opposed this, on the ground of the known
intolerance of Ferdinand. But the majority, either won over by the arts
of Matthias, or dreading civil war, accepted Ferdinand. He was crowned
on the 10th of June, 1616, he promising not to interfere with the
government during the lifetime of Matthias. The emperor now turned to
Hungary, and, by the adoption of the same measures, secured the same
results. The nobles accepted Ferdinand, and he was solemnly crowned at
Presburg.
Ferdinand was Archduke of Styria, a province of Austria embracing a
little more than eight thousand square miles, being about the size of
the State of Massachusetts, and containing about a million of
inhabitants. He was educated by the Jesuits after the strictest manner
of their religion. He became so thoroughly imbued with the spirit of his
monastic education, that he was anxious to assume the cowl of the monk,
and enter the order of the Jesuits. His devotion to the papal church
assumed the aspect of the most inflexible intolerance towards all
dissent. In the administration of the government of his own duchy, he
had given free swing to his bigotry. Marshaling his troops, he had
driven all the Protestant preachers from his domains. He had made a
pilgrimage to Rome, to receive the benediction of the pope, and another
to Loretto, where, prostrating himself before the miraculous image, he
vowed never to cease his exertions until he had extirpated all heresy
from his territories. He often declared that he would beg his bread from
door to door, submit to every insult, to every calamity, sacrifice even
life itself, rather than suffer the true Church to be injured. Ferdinand
was no time-server--no hypocrite. He was a genuine bigot, sincere and
conscientious. Animated by this spirit, although two thirds of the
inhabitants of Styria were Protestants, he banished all their preachers,
professors and schoolmasters; closed their churches, seminaries and
schools; even tore down the churches and school-houses; multiplied papal
institutions, and called in teachers and preachers from other States.
Matthias and Ferdinand now seemed jointly to reign, and the Protestants
were soon alarmed by indications that a new spirit was animating the
councils of the sovereign. The most inflexible Catholics were received
as the friends and advisers of the king. The Jesuits loudly exulted,
declaring that heresy was no longer to be tolerated. Banishments and
confiscations were talked of, and the alarm of the Protestants became
intense and universal: they looked forward to the commencement of the
reign of Ferdinand with terror.
As was to be expected, such wrongs and perils called out an avenger.
Matthew Henry, Count of Thurn, was one of the most illustrious and
wealthy of the Bohemian nobles. He had long been a warm advocate of the
doctrines of the Reformation; and having, in the wars with the Turks,
acquired a great reputation for military capacity and courage, and being
also a man of great powers of eloquence, and of exceedingly popular
manners, he had become quite the idol of the Protestant party. He had
zealously opposed the election of Ferdinand to the throne of Bohemia,
and had thus increased that jealousy and dislike with which both
Matthias and Ferdinand had previously regarded so formidable an
opponent. He was, in consequence, very summarily deprived of some very
important dignities. This roused his impetuous spirit, and caused the
Protestants more confidingly to rally around him as a martyr to their
cause.
The Count of Thurn, as prudent as he was bold, as deliberate as he was
energetic, aware of the fearful hazard of entering into hostilities with
the sovereign who was at the same time king of all the Austrian realms,
and Emperor of Germany, conferred with the leading Protestant princes,
and organized a confederacy so strong that all the energies of the
empire could with difficulty crush it. They were not disposed to make
any aggressive movements, but to defend their rights if assailed. The
inhabitants of a town in the vicinity of Prague began to erect a church
for Protestant worship. The Roman Catholic bishop, who presided over
that diocese, forbade them to proceed. They plead a royal edict, which
authorized them to erect the church, and continued their work,
regardless of the prohibition. Count Thurn encouraged them to persevere,
promising them ample support. The bishop appealed to the Emperor
Matthias. He also issued his prohibition; but aware of the strength of
the Protestants, did not venture to attempt to enforce it by arms.
Ferdinand, however, was not disposed to yield to this spirit, and by his
influence obtained an order, demanding the immediate surrender of the
church to the Catholics, or its entire demolition. The bishop attempted
its destruction by an armed force, but the Protestants defended their
property, and sent a committee to Matthias, petitioning for a revocation
of the mandate. These deputies were seized and imprisoned by the king,
and an imperial force was sent to the town, Brunau, to take possession
of the church. From so small a beginning rose the Thirty Years' War.
Count Thurn immediately summoned a convention of six delegates from each
of the districts, called circles in Bohemia. The delegates met at Prague
on the 16th of March, 1618. An immense concourse of Protestants from all
parts of the surrounding country accompanied the delegates to the
capital. Count Thurn was a man of surpassing eloquence, and seemed to
control at will all the passions of the human heart. In the boldest
strains of eloquence he addressed the assembly, and roused them to the
most enthusiastic resolve to defend at all hazards their civil and
religious rights. They unanimously passed a resolve that the demolition
of the church and the suspension of the Protestant worship were
violations of the royal edict, and they drew up a petition to the
emperor demanding the redress of this grievance, and the liberation of
the imprisoned deputies from Brunau. The meeting then adjourned, to be
reassembled soon to hear the reply of the emperor.
As the delegates and the multitudes who accompanied them returned to
their homes, they spread everywhere the impression produced upon their
minds by the glowing eloquence of Count Thurn. The Protestant mind was
roused to the highest pitch by the truthful representation, that the
court had adopted a deliberate plan for the utter extirpation of
Protestant worship throughout Bohemia, and that foreign troops were to
be brought in to execute this decree. These convictions were
strengthened and the alarm increased by the defiant reply which Matthias
sent back from his palace in Vienna to his Bohemian subjects. He accused
the delegates of treason and of circulating false and slanderous
reports, and declared that they should be punished according to their
deserts. He forbade them to meet again, or to interfere in any way with
the affairs of Brunau, stating that at his leisure he would repair to
Prague and attend to the business himself.
The king could not have framed an answer better calculated to exasperate
the people, and rouse them to the most determined resistance. Count
Thurn, regardless of the prohibition, called the delegates together and
read to them the answer, which the king had not addressed to them but to
the council of regency. He then addressed them again in those
impassioned strains which he had ever at command, and roused them almost
to fury against those Catholic lords who had dictated this answer to the
king and obtained his signature.
The next day the nobles met again. They came to the place of meeting
thoroughly armed and surrounded by their retainers, prepared to repel
force by force. Count Thurn now wished to lead them to some act of
hostility so decisive that they would be irrecoverably committed. The
king's council of regency was then assembled in the palace of Prague.
The regency consisted of seven Catholics and three Protestants. For some
unknown reason the Protestant lords were not present on this occasion.
Three of the members of the regency, Slavata and Martinetz and the
burgrave of Prague, were peculiarly obnoxious on account of the
implacable spirit with which they had ever persecuted the reformers.
These lords were the especial friends of Ferdinand and had great
influence with Matthias, and it was not doubted that they had framed the
answer which the emperor had returned. Incited by Count Thurn, several
of the most resolute of the delegates, led by the count, proceeded to
the palace, and burst into the room where the regency was in session.
Their leader, addressing Slavata, Martinetz, and Diepold, the burgrave,
said, "Our business is with you. We wish to know if you are responsible
for the answer returned to us by the king."
"That," one of them replied, "is a secret of state which we are not
bound to reveal."
"Let us follow," exclaimed the Protestant chief, "the ancient custom of
Bohemia, and hurl them from the window."
They were in a room in the tower of the castle, and it was eighty feet
to the water of the moat. The Catholic lords were instantly seized,
dragged to the window and thrust out. Almost incredible as it may seem,
the water and the mud of the moat so broke their fall, that neither of
them was killed. They all recovered from the effects of their fall.
Having performed this deed, Count Thurn and his companions returned to
the delegates, informed them of what they had done, and urged them that
the only hope of safety now, for any Protestant, was for all to unite in
open and desperate resistance. Then mounting his horse, and protected by
a strong body-guard, he rode through the streets of Prague, stopping at
every corner to harangue the Protestant populace. The city was thronged
on the occasion by Protestants from all parts of the kingdom.
"I do not," he exclaimed, "propose myself as your chief, but as your
companion, in that peril which will lead us to happy freedom or to
glorious death. The die is thrown. It is too late to recall what is
past. Your safety depends alone on unanimity and courage, and if you
hesitate to burst asunder your chains, you have no alternative but to
perish by the hands of the executioner."
He was everywhere greeted with shouts of enthusiasm, and the whole
Protestant population were united as one man in the cause. Even many of
the moderate Catholics, disgusted with the despotism of the newly
elected king, which embraced civil as well as religious affairs, joined
the Protestants, for they feared the loss of their civil rights more
than they dreaded the inroads of heresy.
With amazing celerity they now organized to repel the force which they
knew that the emperor would immediately send to crush them. Within three
days their plans were all matured and an organization effected which
made the king tremble in his palace. Count Thurn was appointed their
commander, an executive committee of thirty very efficient men was
chosen, which committee immediately issued orders for the levy of troops
all over the kingdom. Envoys were sent to Moravia, Silesia, Lusatia, and
Hungary, and to the Protestants all over the German empire. The
Archbishop of Prague was expelled from the city, and the Jesuits were
also banished. They then issued a proclamation in defense of their
conduct, which they sent to the king with a firm but respectful letter.
One can not but be amused in reading their defense of the outrage
against the council of regency. "We have thrown from the windows," they
said, "the two ministers who have been the enemies of the State,
together with their creature and flatterer, in conformity with an
ancient custom prevalent throughout all Bohemia, as well as in the
capital. This custom is justified by the example of Jezebel in holy
Writ, who was thrown from a window for persecuting the people of God;
and it was common among the Romans, and all other nations of antiquity,
who hurled the disturbers of the public peace from rocks and
precipices."
Matthias had very reluctantly sent his insulting and defiant answer to
the reasonable complaints of the Protestants, and he was thunderstruck
in contemplating the storm which had thus been raised--a storm which
apparently no human wisdom could now allay. There are no energies so
potent as those which are aroused by religious convictions. Matthias
well knew the ascendency of the Protestants all over Bohemia, and that
their spirit, once thoroughly aroused, could not be easily quelled by
any opposing force he could array. He was also aware that Ferdinand was
thoroughly detested by the Protestant leaders, and that it was by no
means improbable that this revolt would thwart all his plans in securing
his succession.
As the Protestants had not renounced their allegiance, Matthias was
strongly disposed to measures of conciliation, and several of the most
influential, yet fair-minded Catholics supported him in these views. The
Protestants were too numerous to be annihilated, and too strong in their
desperation to be crushed. But Ferdinand, guided by the Jesuits, was
implacable. He issued a manifesto, which was but a transcript of his own
soul, and which is really sublime in the sincerity and fervor of its
intolerance.
"All attempts," said he, "to bring to reason a people whom God has
struck with judicial blindness will be in vain. Since the introduction
of heresy into Bohemia, we have seen nothing but tumults, disobedience
and rebellion. While the Catholics and the sovereign have displayed only
lenity and moderation, these sects have become stronger, more violent
and more insolent; having gained all their objects in religious affairs,
they turn their arms against the civil government, and attack the
supreme authority under the pretense of conscience; not content with
confederating themselves against their sovereign, they have usurped the
power of taxation, and have made alliances with foreign States,
particularly with the Protestant princes of Germany, in order to deprive
him of the very means of reducing them to obedience. They have left
nothing to the sovereign but his palaces and the convents; and after
their recent outrages against his ministers, and the usurpation of the
regal revenues, no object remains for their vengeance and rapacity but
the persons of the sovereign and his successor, and the whole house of
Austria.
"If sovereign power emanates from God, these atrocious deeds must
proceed from the devil, and therefore must draw down divine punishment.
Neither can God be pleased with the conduct of the sovereign, in
conniving at or acquiescing in all the demands of the disobedient.
Nothing now remains for him, but to submit to be lorded by his subjects,
or to free himself from this disgraceful slavery before his territories
are formed into a republic. The rebels have at length deprived
themselves of the only plausible argument which their preachers have
incessantly thundered from the pulpit, that they were contending for
religious freedom; and the emperor and the house of Austria have now the
fairest opportunity to convince the world that their sole object is only
to deliver themselves from slavery and restore their legal authority.
They are secure of divine support, and they have only the alternative of
a war by which they may regain their power, or a peace which is far more
dishonorable and dangerous than war. If successful, the forfeited
property of the rebels will defray the expense of their armaments; if
the event of hostilities be unfortunate, they can only lose, with honor,
and with arms in their hands, the rights and prerogatives which are and
will be wrested from them with shame and dishonor. It is better not to
reign than to be the slave of subjects. It is far more desirable and
glorious to shed our blood at the foot of the throne than to be driven
from it like criminals and malefactors."
Matthias endeavored to unite his own peace policy with the energetic
warlike measures urged by Ferdinand. He attempted to overawe by a great
demonstration of physical force, while at the same time he made very
pacific proposals. Applying to Spain for aid, the Spanish court sent him
eight thousand troops from the Netherlands; he also raised, in his own
dominions, ten thousand men. Having assembled this force he sent word to
the Protestants, that if they would disband their force he would do the
same, and that he would confirm the royal edict and give full security
for the maintenance of their civil and religious privileges. The
Protestants refused to disband, knowing that they could place no
reliance upon the word of the unstable monarch who was crowded by the
rising power of the energetic Ferdinand. The ambitious naturally
deserted the court of the sovereign whose days were declining, to enlist
in the service of one who was just entering upon the kingly power.
Ferdinand was enraged at what he considered the pusillanimity of the
king. Maximilian, the younger brother of Matthias, cordially espoused
the cause of Ferdinand. Cardinal Kleses, a Catholic of commanding
influence and of enlightened, liberal views, was the counselor of the
king. Ferdinand and Maximilian resolved that he should no longer have
access to the ear of the pliant monarch, but he could be removed from
the court only by violence. With an armed band they entered the palace
at Vienna, seized the cardinal in the midst of the court, stripped him
of his robes, hurried him into a carriage, and conveyed him to a strong
castle in the midst of the mountains of the Tyrol, where they held him a
close prisoner. The emperor was at the time confined to his bed with the
gout. As soon as they had sent off the cardinal, Ferdinand and
Maximilian repaired to the royal chamber, informed the emperor of what
they had done, and attempted to justify the deed on the plea that the
cardinal was a weak and wicked minister whose policy would certainly
divide and ruin the house of Austria.
The emperor was in his bed as he received this insulting announcement of
a still more insulting outrage. For a moment he was speechless with
rage. But he was old, sick and powerless. This act revealed to him that
the scepter had fallen from his hands. In a paroxysm of excitement, to
prevent himself from speaking he thrust the bed-clothes into his mouth,
nearly suffocating himself. Resistance was in vain. He feared that
should he manifest any, he also might be torn from his palace, a
captive, to share the prison of the cardinal. In sullen indignation he
submitted to the outrage.
Ferdinand and Maximilian now pursued their energetic measures of
hostility unopposed. They immediately put the army in motion to invade
Bohemia, and boasted that the Protestants should soon be punished with
severity which would teach them a lesson they would never forget. But
the Protestants were on the alert. Every town in the kingdom had joined
in the confederacy, and in a few weeks Count Thurn found himself at the
head of ten thousand men inspired with the most determined spirit. The
Silesians and Lusatians marched to help them, and the Protestant league
of Germany sent them timely supplies. The troops of Ferdinand found
opponents in every pass and in every defile, and in their endeavor to
force their way through the fastnesses of the mountains, were frequently
driven back with great loss. At length the troops of Ferdinand, defeated
at every point, were compelled to retreat in shame back to Austria,
leaving all Bohemia in the hands of the Protestants.
Ferdinand was now in trouble and disgrace. His plans had signally
failed. The Protestants all over Germany were in arms, and their spirits
roused to the highest pitch; many of the moderate Catholics refused to
march against them, declaring that the Protestants were right in
resisting such oppression. They feared Ferdinand, and were apprehensive
that his despotic temper, commencing with religious intolerance, would
terminate in civil tyranny. It was evident to all that the Protestants
could not be put down by force of arms, and even Ferdinand was so
intensely humiliated that he was constrained to assent to the proposal
which Matthias made to refer their difficulty to arbitration. Four
princes were selected as the referees--the Electors of Mentz, Bavaria,
Saxony and Palatine. They were to meet at Egra the 14th of April, 1619.
But Matthias, the victim of disappointment and grief, was now rapidly
approaching his end. The palace at Vienna was shrouded in gloom, and no
smiles were seen there, and no sounds of joy were heard in those regal
saloons. The wife of Matthias, whom he tenderly loved, oppressed by the
humiliation and anguish which she saw her husband enduring, died of a
broken heart. Matthias was inconsolable under this irretrievable loss.
Lying upon his bed tortured with the pain of the gout, sinking under
incurable disease, with no pleasant memories of the past to cheer him,
with disgrace and disaster accumulating, and with no bright hopes beyond
the grave, he loathed life and dreaded death. The emperor in his palace
was perhaps the most pitiable object which could be found in all his
realms. He tossed upon his pillow, the victim of remorse and despair,
now condemning himself for his cruel treatment of his brother Rhodolph,
now inveighing bitterly against the inhumanity and arrogance of
Ferdinand and Maximilian. On the 20th of March, 1619, the despairing
spirit of the emperor passed away to the tribunal of the "King of kings
and the Lord of lords."