FERDINAND II.
From 1619 to 1621.
Possessions of the Emperor.--Power of the Protestants of
Bohemia.--General Spirit of Insurrection.--Anxiety of Ferdinand.--
Insurrection led by Count Thurn.--Unpopularity of the Emperor.--
Affecting Declaration of the Emperor.--Insurrection in Vienna.--The
Arrival of Succor.--Ferdinand seeks the imperial Throne.--Repudiated by
Bohemia.--The Palatinate.--Frederic offered the Crown of Bohemia.--
Frederic crowned.--Revolt in Hungary.--Desperate Condition of the
Emperor.--Catholic League.--The Calvinists and the Puritans.--Duplicity
of the Emperor.--Foreign Combinations.--Truce between the Catholics and
the Protestants.--The Attack upon Bohemia.--Battle of the White
Mountain.
Ferdinand, who now ascended the throne by right of the coronation he had
already received, was in the prime of life, being but forty-one years of
age, and was in possession of a rare accumulation of dignities. He was
Archduke of Austria, King of Hungary and of Bohemia, Duke of Styria,
Carinthia and Carniola, and held joint possession, with his two
brothers, of the spacious territory of the Tyrol. Thus all these
wide-spread and powerful territories, with different languages,
different laws, and diverse manners and customs, were united under the
Austrian monarchy, which was now undeniably one of the leading powers of
Europe. In addition to all these titles and possessions, he was a
prominent candidate for the imperial crown of Germany. To secure this
additional dignity he could rely upon his own family influence, which
was very powerful, and also upon the aid of the Spanish monarchy. When
we contemplate his accession in this light, he appears as one of the
most powerful monarchs who ever ascended a throne.
But there is another side to the picture. The spirit of rebellion
against his authority had spread through nearly all his territories, and
he had neither State nor kingdom where his power seemed stable. In
whatever direction he turned his eyes, he saw either the gleam of
hostile arms or the people in a tumult just ready to combine against
him.
The Protestants of Bohemia had much to encourage them. All the kingdom,
excepting one fortress, was in their possession. All the Protestants of
the German empire had espoused their cause. The Silesians, Lusatians and
Moravians were in open revolt. The Hungarian Protestants, animated by
the success of the Bohemians, were eager to follow their example and
throw off the yoke of Ferdinand. With iron tyranny he had silenced every
Protestant voice in the Styrian provinces, and had crushed every
semblance of religious liberty. But the successful example of the
Bohemians had roused the Styrians, and they also were on the eve of
making a bold move in defense of their rights. Even in Austria itself,
and beneath the very shadow of the palaces of Vienna, conspiracies were
rife, and insurrection was only checked by the presence of the army
which had been driven out of Bohemia.
Even Ferdinand could not be blind to the difficulties which were
accumulating upon him, and to the precarious tenure of his power. He saw
the necessity of persevering in the attempt at conciliation which he had
so reluctantly commenced. And yet, with strange infatuation, he proposed
an accommodation in a manner which was deemed insulting, and which
tended only to exasperate. The very day of his accession to the throne,
he sent a commission to Prague, to propose a truce; but, instead of
conferring with the Protestant leaders, he seemed to treat them with
intentional contempt, by addressing his proposal to that very council of
regency which had become so obnoxious. The Protestants, justly regarding
this as an indication of the implacable state of his mind, and conscious
that the proposed truce would only enable him more effectually to rally
his forces, made no reply whatever to his proposals. Ferdinand,
perceiving that he had made a great mistake, and that he had not rightly
appreciated the spirit of his foes, humbled himself a little more, and
made still another attempt at conciliation. But the Protestants had now
resolved that Ferdinand should never be King of Bohemia. It had become
an established tenet of the Catholic church that it is not necessary to
keep faith with heretics. Whatever solemn promises Ferdinand might make,
the pope would absolve him from all sin in violating them.
Count Thurn, with sixteen thousand men, marched into Moravia. The people
rose simultaneously to greet him. He entered Brunn, the capital, in
triumph. The revolution was immediate and entire. They abolished the
Austrian government, established the Protestant worship, and organized a
new government similar to that which they had instituted in Bohemia.
Crossing the frontier, Count Thurn boldly entered Austria and, meeting
no foe capable of retarding his steps, he pushed vigorously on even to
the very gates of Vienna. As he had no heavy artillery capable of
battering down the walls, and as he knew that he had many partisans
within the walls of the city, he took possession of the suburbs,
blockaded the town, and waited for the slow operation of a siege, hoping
thus to be able to take the capital and the person of the sovereign
without bloodshed.
Ferdinand had brought such trouble upon the country, that he was now
almost as unpopular with the Catholics as with the Protestants, and all
his appeals to them for aid were of but little avail. The sudden
approach of Count Thurn had amazed and discomfited him, and he knew not
in what direction to look for aid. Cooped up in his capital, he could
hold no communication with foreign powers, and his own subjects
manifested no disposition to come to his rescue. The evidences of
popular discontent, even in the city, were every hour becoming more
manifest, and the unhappy sovereign was in hourly expectation of an
insurrection in the streets.
The surrender of Vienna involved the loss of Austria. With the loss of
Austria vanished all hopes of the imperial crown. Bohemia, Austria, and
the German scepter gone, Hungary would soon follow; and then, his own
Styrian territories, sustained and aided by their successful neighbors,
would speedily discard his sway. Ferdinand saw it all clearly, and was
in an agony of despair. He has confided to his confessor the emotions
which, in those terrible hours, agitated his soul. It is affecting to
read the declaration, indicative as it is that the most cruel and
perfidious man may be sincere and even conscientious in his cruelty and
crime. To his Jesuitical confessor, Bartholomew Valerius, he said,
"I have reflected on the dangers which threaten me and my family, both
at home and abroad. With an enemy in the suburbs, sensible that the
Protestants are plotting my ruin, I implore that help from God which I
can not expect from man. I had recourse to my Saviour, and said, 'Lord
Jesus Christ, Thou Redeemer of mankind, Thou to whom all hearts are
opened, Thou knowest that I seek Thy honor, not my own. If it be Thy
will, that, in this extremity, I should be overcome by thy enemies, and
be made the sport and contempt of the world, I will drink of the bitter
cup. Thy will be done.' I had hardly spoken these words before I was
inspired with new hope, and felt a full conviction that God would
frustrate the designs of my enemies."
Nerved by such a spirit, Ferdinand was prepared to endure all things
rather than yield the slightest point. Hour after hour his situation
became more desperate, and still he remained inflexible. Balls from the
batteries of Count Thurn struck even the walls of his palace; murmurs
filled the streets, and menaces rose to his ears from beneath his
windows. "Let us put his evil counselors to the sword," the disaffected
exclaimed; "shut him up in a convent; and educate his children in the
Protestant religion."
At length the crisis had apparently arrived. Insurrection was organized.
Clamorous bands surged through the streets, and there was a state of
tumult which no police force could quell. A band of armed men burst into
the palace, forced their way into the presence of Ferdinand, and
demanded the surrender of the city. At that moment, when Ferdinand might
well have been in despair, the unexpected sound of trumpets was heard in
the streets, and the tramp of a squadron of cavalry. The king was as
much amazed as were the insurgents. The deputies, not knowing what it
meant, in great alarm retreated from the palace. The squadron swept the
streets, and surrounded the palace. They had been sent to the city by
the general who had command of the Austrian forces, and, arriving at
full speed, had entered unexpectedly at the only gate which the
besiegers had not guarded.
Their arrival, as if by heavenly commission, and the tidings they
brought of other succor near at hand, reanimated the king and his
partisans, and instantly the whole aspect of things within the city was
changed. Six hundred students in the Roman Catholic institutions of the
city flew to arms, and organized themselves as a body-guard of the king.
All the zealous Catholics formed themselves into military bands, and
this encouraged that numerous neutral party, always existing in such
seasons of uncertainty, ready to join those who shall prove to be the
strongest. The Protestants fled from the city, and sought protection
under the banners of Count Thurn.
In the meantime the Catholics in Bohemia, taking advantage of the
absence of Count Thurn with his troops, had surrounded Prague, and were
demanding its capitulation. This rendered it necessary for the Bohemian
army immediately to strike their tents and return to Bohemia. Never was
there a more sudden and perfect deliverance. It was, however,
deliverance only from the momentary peril. The great elements of
discontent and conflict remained unchanged.
It was very evident that the difficulties which Ferdinand had to
encounter in his Austrian dominions, were so immense that he could not
hope to surmount them without foreign aid. He consequently deemed it a
matter important above all others to secure the imperial throne. Without
this strength the loss of all his Austrian possessions was inevitable.
With the influence and the power which the crown of Germany would confer
upon him he could hope to gain all. Ferdinand immediately left Vienna
and visited the most influential of the German princes to secure their
support for his election. The Catholics all over Germany, alarmed by the
vigor and energy which had been displayed by the Protestants, laid aside
their several preferences, and gradually all united upon Ferdinand. The
Protestants, foolishly allowing their Lutheran and Calvinistic
differences to disunite them, could not agree in their candidate.
Consequently Ferdinand was elected, and immediately crowned emperor, the
9th of September, 1619.
The Bohemians, however, remained firm in their resolve to repudiate him
utterly as their king. They summoned a diet of the States of Bohemia,
Moravia, Silesia and Lusatia to meet at Prague. Delegates also attended
the diet from Upper and Lower Austria, as also many nobles from distant
Hungary. The diet drew up a very formidable list of grievances, and
declared, in view of them, that Ferdinand had forfeited all right to the
crown of Bohemia, and that consequently it was their duty, in accordance
with the ancient usages, to proceed to the election of a sovereign. The
Catholics were now so entirely in the minority in Bohemia that the
Protestants held the undisputed control. They first chose the Elector of
Saxony. He, conscious that he could maintain his post only by a long and
uncertain war, declined the perilous dignity. They then with great
unanimity elected Frederic, the Elector of Palatine.
The Palatinate was a territory bordering on Bohemia, of over four
thousand square miles, and contained nearly seven hundred thousand
inhabitants. The elector, Frederic V., was thus a prince of no small
power in his own right. He had married a daughter of James I. of
England, and had many powerful relatives. Frederic was an affable,
accomplished, kind-hearted man, quite ambitious, and with but little
force of character. He was much pleased at the idea of being elevated to
the dignity of a king, and was yet not a little appalled in
contemplating the dangers which it was manifest he must encounter. His
mother, with maternal solicitude, trembling for her son, intreated him
not to accept the perilous crown. His father-in-law, James, remonstrated
against it, sternly declaring that he would never patronize subjects in
rebellion against their sovereign, that he would never acknowledge
Frederic's title as king, or render him, under any circumstances, either
sympathy or support. On the other hand the members of the Protestant
league urged his acceptance; his uncles united strongly with them in
recommending it, and above all, his fascinating wife, whom he dotingly
loved, and who, delighted at the idea of being a queen, threw herself
into his arms, and plead in those persuasive tones which the pliant
heart of Frederic could not resist. The Protestant clergy, also, in a
strong delegation waited upon him, and intreated him in the name of that
Providence which had apparently proffered to him the crown, to accept it
in fidelity to himself, to his country and to the true religion.
The trembling hand and the tearful eye with which Frederic accepted the
crown, proved his incapacity to bear the burden in those stormy days.
Placing the government of the Palatinate in the hands of the Duke of
Deux Ponts, he repaired, with his family, to Prague. A rejoicing
multitude met him at several leagues from the capital, and escorted him
to the city with an unwonted display of popular enthusiasm. He was
crowned with splendor such as Bohemia had never witnessed before.
For a time the Bohemians surrendered themselves to the most extravagant
joy. Frederic was exceedingly amiable, and just the prince to win, in
calm and sunny days, the enthusiastic admiration of his subjects. They
were highly gratified in having the King of Bohemia dwell in his own
capital at Prague, a privilege and honor which they had seldom enjoyed.
Many of the German princes acknowledged Frederic's title, as did also
Sweden, Denmark, Holland and Vienna. The revolution in Bohemia was
apparently consummated, and to the ordinary observer no cloud could be
seen darkening the horizon.
The Bohemians were strengthened in their sense of security by a similar
revolution which was taking place in Hungary. As soon as Ferdinand left
Vienna, to seek the crown of Germany, the Protestants of Hungary threw
off their allegiance to Austria, and rallied around the banners of their
bold, indomitable leader, Gabriel Bethlehem. They fell upon the imperial
forces with resistless fury and speedily dispersed them. Having captured
several of the most important fortresses, and having many troops to
spare, Gabriel Bethlehem sent eighteen thousand men into Moravia to aid
Count Thurn to disperse the imperial forces there. He then marched
triumphantly to Presburg, the renowned capital of Hungary, within thirty
miles of Vienna, where he was received by the majority of the
inhabitants with open arms. He took possession of the sacred crown and
of the crown jewels, called an assembly of the nobles from the various
States of Hungary and Transylvania, and united them in a firm band
against Ferdinand. He now marched up the banks of the Danube into
Austria. Count Thurn advanced from Moravia to meet him. The junction of
their forces placed the two leaders in command of sixty thousand men.
They followed along the left bank of the majestic Danube until they
arrived opposite Vienna. Here they found eighteen thousand troops posted
to oppose. After a short conflict, the imperial troops retreated from
behind their intrenchments across the river, and blew up the bridge.
In such a deplorable condition did the Emperor Ferdinand find his
affairs, as he returned from Germany to Austria. He was apparently in a
desperate position, and no human sagacity could foresee how he could
retrieve his fallen fortunes. Apparently, could his despotic arm then
have been broken, Europe might have been spared many years of war and
woe. But the designs of Providence are inscrutable. Again there was
apparently almost miraculous interposition. The imperial troops were
rapidly concentrated in the vicinity of Vienna, to prevent the passage
of the broad, deep and rapid river by the allied army. A strong force
was dispatched down the right bank of the Danube, which attacked and
dispersed a force left to protect the communication with Hungary. The
season was far advanced, and it was intensely cold in those northern
latitudes. The allied army had been collected so suddenly, that no
suitable provision had been made for feeding so vast a host. Famine
added its terrors to the cold blasts which menacingly swept the plains,
and as there was imminent danger that the imperial army might cut off
entirely the communication of the allies with Hungary, Gabriel Bethlehem
decided to relinquish the enterprise of taking Vienna, and retired
unimpeded to Presburg. Almost every fortress in Hungary was now in the
possession of the Hungarians, and Ferdinand, though his capital was
released, saw that Hungary as well as Bohemia had escaped from his
hands. At Presburg Gabriel was, with imposing ceremonies, proclaimed
King of Hungary, and a decree of proscription and banishment was issued
against all the adherents of Ferdinand.
Germany was now divided into two great leagues, the Catholic and the
Protestant. Though nominally religious parties, they were political as
well as religious, and subject to all the fluctuations and corruptions
attending such combinations. The Protestant league, composed of princes
of every degree of dignity, who came from all parts of Germany, proudly
mounted and armed, and attended by armed retainers, from a few score to
many hundreds or even thousands, met at Nuremburg. It was one of the
most influential and imposing assemblages which had ever gathered in
Europe. The Catholics, with no less display of pomp and power, for their
league embraced many of the haughtiest sovereigns in Europe, met at
Wurtzburg. There were, of course, not a few who were entirely
indifferent as to the religious questions involved, and who were
Catholics or Protestants, in subserviency to the dictates of interest or
ambition. Both parties contended with the arts of diplomacy as well as
with those of war. The Spanish court was preparing a powerful armament
to send from the Netherlands to the help of Ferdinand. The Protestants
sent an army to Ulm to watch their movements, and to cut them off.
Ferdinand was as energetic as he had previously proved himself
inflexible and persevering. In person he visited Munich, the capital of
Bavaria, that he might more warmly interest in his favor Maximilian, the
illustrious and warlike duke. The emperor made him brilliant promises,
and secured his cordial coöperation. The Duke of Bavaria, and the
Elector of the Palatinate, were neighbors and rivals; and the emperor
offered Maximilian the spoils of the Palatinate, if they should be
successful in their warfare against the newly elected Bohemian king.
Maximilian, thus persuaded, placed all his force at the disposal of the
emperor.
The Elector of Saxony was a Lutheran; the Elector Palatine a Calvinist.
The Lutherans believed, that after the consecration of the bread and
wine at the sacramental table, the body and blood of Christ were
spiritually present with that bread and wine. This doctrine, which they
called _consubstantiation_, they adopted in antagonism to the papal
doctrine of _transubstantiation_, which was that the bread and wine were
actually transformed into, and became the real body and blood of Christ.
The difference between the Calvinists and the Lutherans, as we have
before mentioned, was that, while the former considered the bread and
wine in the sacraments as _representing_ the body and the blood of
Christ, the latter considered the body and the blood as spiritually
present in the consecrated elements. This trivial difference divided
brethren who were agreed upon all the great points of Christian faith,
duty and obligation. It is melancholy, and yet instructive to observe,
through the course of history, how large a proportion of the energies of
Christians have been absorbed in contentions against each other upon
shadowy points of doctrine, while a world has been perishing in
wickedness. The most efficient men in the Church on earth, have had
about one half of their energies paralyzed by contentions with their own
Christian brethren. It is so now. The most energetic men, in pleading
the cause of Christ, are often assailed even more unrelentingly by
brethren who differ with them upon some small point of doctrine, than by
a hostile world.
Human nature, even when partially sanctified, is frail indeed. The
Elector of Saxony was perhaps a good man, but he was a weak one. He was
a zealous Lutheran, and was shocked that a Calvinist, a man who held the
destructive error that the bread and wine only _represented_ the body
and the blood of Christ, should be raised to the throne of Bohemia, and
thus become the leader of the Protestant party. The Elector of Saxony
and the Elector of the Palatine had also been naturally rivals, as
neighbors, and possessors of about equal rank and power. Though the
Calvinists, to conciliate the Lutherans, had offered the throne to the
Elector of Saxony, and he had declined it, as too perilous a post for
him to occupy, still he was weakly jealous of his rival who had assumed
that post, and was thus elevated above him to the kingly dignity.
Ferdinand understood all this, and shrewdly availed himself of it. He
plied the elector with arguments and promises, assuring him that the
points in dispute were political merely and not religious; that he had
no intention of opposing the Protestant religion, and that if the
elector would abandon the Protestant league, he would reward him with a
large accession of territory. It seems incredible that the Elector of
Saxony could have been influenced by such representations. But so it
was. Averring that he could not in conscience uphold a man who did not
embrace the vital doctrine of the spiritual presence, he abandoned his
Protestant brethren, and drew with him the Landgrave of Hesse, and
several other Lutheran princes. This was a very serious defection, which
disheartened the Protestants as much as it encouraged Ferdinand.
The wily emperor having succeeded so admirably with the Protestant
elector, now turned to the Roman Catholic court of France--that infamous
court, still crimsoned with the blood of the St. Bartholomew massacre.
Then, with diplomatic tergiversation, he represented that the conflict
was not a political one, but purely religious, involving the interests
of the Church. He urged that the peace of France and of Europe required
that the Protestant heresy should be utterly effaced; and he provoked
the resentment of the court by showing how much aid the Protestants in
Europe had ever received from the Palatinate family. Here again he was
completely successful, and the young king, Louis XIII., who was
controlled by his bigoted yet powerful minister, the Duke of Luines,
cordially espoused his cause.
Spain, intolerant, despotic, hating Protestantism with perfect hatred,
was eager with its aid. A well furnished army of twenty-four thousand
men was sent from the Netherlands, and also a large sum of money was
placed in the treasury of Ferdinand. Even the British monarch,
notwithstanding the clamors of the nation, was maneuvered into
neutrality. And most surprising of all, Ferdinand was successful in
securing a truce with Gabriel Bethlehem, which, though it conferred
peace upon Hungary, deprived the Bohemians of their powerful support.
The Protestants were strong in their combination; but still it was a
power of fearful strength now arrayed against them. It was evident that
Europe was on the eve of a long and terrible struggle. The two forces
began to assemble. The Protestants rendezvoused at Ulm, under the
command of the Margrave of Anspach. The Catholic troops, from their wide
dispersion, were concentrating at Guntzburg, to be led by the Duke of
Bavaria. The attention of all Europe was arrested by these immense
gatherings. All hearts were oppressed with solicitude, for the parties
were very equally matched, and results of most momentous importance were
dependent upon the issue.
In this state of affairs the Protestant league, which extended through
Europe, entered into a truce with the Catholic league, which also
extended through Europe, that they should both withdraw from the
contest, leaving Ferdinand and the Bohemians to settle the dispute as
they best could. This seemed very much to narrow the field of strife,
but the measure, in its practical results, was far more favorable to
Ferdinand than to the Bohemians. The emperor thus disembarrassed, by
important concessions, and by menaces, brought the Protestants of Lower
Austria into submission. The masses, overawed by a show of power which
they could not resist, yielded; the few who refused to bow in homage to
the emperor were punished as guilty of treason.
Ferdinand, by these cautious steps, was now prepared to concentrate his
energies upon Bohemia. He first attacked the dependent provinces of
Bohemia, one by one, sending an army of twenty-five thousand men to take
them unprepared. Having subjected all of Upper Austria to his sway, with
fifty thousand men he entered Bohemia. Their march was energetic and
sanguinary. With such an overpowering force they took fortress after
fortress, scaling ramparts, mercilessly cutting down garrisons,
plundering and burning towns, and massacreing the inhabitants. Neither
sex nor age was spared, and a brutal soldiery gratified their passions
in the perpetration of indescribable horrors. Even the Duke of Bavaria
was shocked at such barbarities, and entered his remonstrances against
them. Many large towns, terrified by the atrocities perpetrated upon
those who resisted the imperial arms, threw open their gates, hoping
thus, by submission, to appease the vengeance of the conqueror.
Frederic was a weak man, not at all capable of encountering such a
storm, and the Bohemians had consequently no one to rally and to guide
them with efficiency. His situation was now alarming in the extreme. He
was abandoned by the Protestant league, hemmed in on every side by the
imperial troops, and his hereditary domains of the Palatinate were
overrun by twenty thousand Spaniards. His subjects, alarmed at his utter
inefficiency, and terrified by the calamities which were falling, like
avalanche after avalanche upon them, became dissatisfied with him, and
despairing respecting their own fate. He was a Calvinist, and the
Lutherans had never warmly received him. The impotent monarch, instead
of establishing himself in the affections of his subjects, by vigorously
driving the invaders from his realms, with almost inconceivable
silliness endeavored to win their popularity by balls and smiles,
pleasant words and masquerades. In fact, Frederic, by his utter
inefficiency, was a foe more to be dreaded by Bohemia than Ferdinand.
The armies of the emperor pressed on, throwing the whole kingdom into a
state of consternation and dismay. The army of Frederic, which dared not
emerge from its intrenchments at Pritznitz, about fifty miles south of
Prague, consisted of but twenty-two thousand men, poorly armed, badly
clothed, wretchedly supplied with military stores, and almost in a state
of mutiny from arrears of pay. The generals were in perplexity and
disagreement. Some, in the recklessness of despair, were for marching to
meet the foe and to risk a battle; others were for avoiding a conflict,
and thus protracting the war till the severity of winter should drive
their enemies from the field, when they would have some time to prepare
for another year's campaign. These difficulties led Frederic to apply
for a truce. But Ferdinand was too wise to lose by wasting time in
negotiations, vantage ground he had already gained. He refused to listen
to any word except the unequivocal declaration that Frederic
relinquished all right to the crown. Pressing his forces onward, he
drove the Bohemians from behind their ramparts at Pritznitz, and pursued
them down the Moldau even to the walls of Prague.
Upon a magnificent eminence called the White Mountain, which commanded
the city and its most important approaches, the disheartened army of
Frederic stopped in its flight, and made its last stand. The enemy were
in hot pursuit. The Bohemians in breathless haste began to throw up
intrenchments along the ravines, and to plant their batteries on the
hills, when the banners of Ferdinand were seen approaching. The emperor
was too energetic a warrior to allow his panic-stricken foes time to
regain their courage. Without an hour's delay he urged his victorious
columns to the charge. The Bohemians fought desperately, with far more
spirit than could have been expected. But they were overpowered by
numbers, and in one short hour the army of Frederic was annihilated.
Four thousand were left dead upon the field, one thousand were drowned
in the frantic attempt to swim the Moldau, and the rest were either
dispersed as fugitives over hill and valley or taken captive. The
victory of the emperor was complete, the hopes of Frederic crushed, and
the fate of Bohemia sealed.
The contemptible Frederic, while this fierce battle was raging beneath
the very walls of his capital, instead of placing himself at the head of
his troops, was in the heart of the city, in the banqueting-hall of his
palace, bowing and smiling and feasting his friends. The Prince of
Anhalt, who was in command of the Bohemian army, had sent a most urgent
message to the king, intreating him to dispatch immediately to his aid
all the troops in the city, and especially to repair himself to the camp
to encourage the troops by his presence. Frederic was at the table when
he received this message, and sent word back that he could not come
until after dinner. As soon as the combat commenced, another still more
urgent message was sent, to which he returned the same reply. _After
dinner_ he mounted his horse and rode to the gate which led to the White
Mountain. The thunders of the terrible battle filled the air; the whole
city was in the wildest state of terror and confusion; the gates barred
and barricaded. Even the king could not get out. He climbed one of the
towers of the wall and looked out upon the gory field, strewn with
corpses, where his army _had been_, but was no more. He returned hastily
to his palace, and met there the Prince of Anhalt, who, with a few
fugitives, had succeeded in entering the city by one of the gates.
The city now could not defend itself for an hour. The batteries of
Ferdinand were beginning to play upon the walls, when Frederic sent out
a flag of truce soliciting a cessation of hostilities for twenty-four
hours, that they might negotiate respecting peace. The peremptory reply
returned was, that there should not be truce for a single moment, unless
Frederic would renounce all pretension to the crown of Bohemia. With
such a renunciation truce would be granted for eight hours. Frederic
acceded to the demand, and the noise of war was hushed.