It may suffice the reader, without being very inquisitive after my
name, that I was born in the county of Salop, in the year 1608, under
the government of what star I was never astrologer enough to
examine; but the consequences of my life may allow me to suppose some
extraordinary influence affected my birth.
My father was a gentleman of a very plentiful fortune, having an
estate of above £5000 per annum, of a family nearly allied to several
of the principal nobility, and lived about six miles from the town;
and my mother being at ---- on some particular occasion, was surprised
there at a friend's house, and brought me very safe into the world.
I was my father's second son, and therefore was not altogether so much
slighted as younger sons of good families generally are. But my father
saw something in my genius also which particularly pleased him, and so
made him take extraordinary care of my education.
I was taught, therefore, by the best masters that could be had,
everything that was needful to accomplish a young gentleman for the
world; and at seventeen years old my tutor told my father an academic
education was very proper for a person of quality, and he thought me
very fit for it: so my father entered me of ---- College in Oxford,
where I continued three years.
A collegiate life did not suit me at all, though I loved books well
enough. It was never designed that I should be either a lawyer,
physician, or divine; and I wrote to my father that I thought I had
stayed there long enough for a gentleman, and with his leave I desired
to give him a visit.
During my stay at Oxford, though I passed through the proper exercises
of the house, yet my chief reading was upon history and geography,
as that which pleased my mind best, and supplied me with ideas most
suitable to my genius; by one I understood what great actions had been
done in the world, and by the other I understood where they had been
done.
My father readily complied with my desire of coming home; for besides
that he thought, as I did, that three years' time at the university
was enough, he also most passionately loved me, and began to think of
my settling near him.
At my arrival I found myself extraordinarily caressed by my father,
and he seemed to take a particular delight in my conversation. My
mother, who lived in perfect union with him both in desires and
affection, received me very passionately. Apartments were provided for
me by myself, and horses and servants allowed me in particular.
My father never went a-hunting, an exercise he was exceeding fond of,
but he would have me with him; and it pleased him when he found me
like the sport. I lived thus, in all the pleasures 'twas possible for
me to enjoy, for about a year more, when going out one morning with my
father to hunt a stag, and having had a very hard chase, and gotten
a great way off from home, we had leisure enough to ride gently back;
and as we returned my father took occasion to enter into a serious
discourse with me concerning the manner of my settling in the world.
He told me, with a great deal of passion, that he loved me above all
the rest of his children, and that therefore he intended to do very
well for me; and that my eldest brother being already married
and settled, he had designed the same for me, and proposed a very
advantageous match for me, with a young lady of very extraordinary
fortune and merit, and offered to make a settlement of £2000 per annum
on me, which he said he would purchase for me without diminishing his
paternal estate.
There was too much tenderness in this discourse not to affect me
exceedingly. I told him I would perfectly resign myself unto his
disposal. But as my father had, together with his love for me, a very
nice judgment in his discourse, he fixed his eyes very attentively on
me, and though my answer was without the least reserve, yet he
thought he saw some uneasiness in me at the proposal, and from thence
concluded that my compliance was rather an act of discretion than
inclination; and that, however I seemed so absolutely given up to what
he had proposed, yet my answer was really an effect of my obedience
rather than my choice.
So he returned very quick upon me: "Look you, son, though I give you
my own thoughts in the matter, yet I would have you be very plain with
me; for if your own choice does not agree with mine, I will be your
adviser, but will never impose upon you, and therefore let me know
your mind freely." "I don't reckon myself capable, sir," said I, with
a great deal of respect, "to make so good a choice for myself as you
can for me; and though my opinion differed from yours, its being your
opinion would reform mine, and my judgment would as readily comply as
my duty." "I gather at least from thence," said my father, "that your
designs lay another way before, however they may comply with mine; and
therefore I would know what it was you would have asked of me if I had
not offered this to you; and you must not deny me your obedience in
this, if you expect I should believe your readiness in the other."
"Sir," said I, "'twas impossible I should lay out for myself just
what you have proposed; but if my inclinations were never so contrary,
though at your command you shall know them, yet I declare them to be
wholly subjected to your order. I confess my thoughts did not tend
towards marriage or a settlement; for, though I had no reason to
question your care of me, yet I thought a gentleman ought always to
see something of the world before he confined himself to any part of
it. And if I had been to ask your consent to anything, it should have
been to give me leave to travel for a short time, in order to qualify
myself to appear at home like a son to so good a father."
"In what capacity would you travel?" replied my father. "You must go
abroad either as a private gentleman, as a scholar, or as a soldier."
"If it were in the latter capacity, sir," said I, returning pretty
quick, "I hope I should not misbehave myself; but I am not so
determined as not to be ruled by your judgment." "Truly," replied my
father, "I see no war abroad at this time worth while for a man to
appear in, whether we talk of the cause or the encouragement; and
indeed, son, I am afraid you need not go far for adventures of that
nature, for times seem to look as if this part of Europe would find us
work enough." My father spake then relating to the quarrel likely
to happen between the King of England and the Spaniard,' [1] for I
believe he had no notions of a civil war in his head.
In short, my father, perceiving my inclinations very forward to go
abroad, gave me leave to travel, upon condition I would promise to
return in two years at farthest, or sooner, if he sent for me.
While I was at Oxford I happened into the society of a young
gentleman, of a good family, but of a low fortune, being a younger
brother, and who had indeed instilled into me the first desires of
going abroad, and who, I knew, passionately longed to travel, but had
not sufficient allowance to defray his expenses as a gentleman. We
had contracted a very close friendship, and our humours being very
agreeable to one another, we daily enjoyed the conversation of
letters. He was of a generous free temper, without the least
affectation or deceit, a handsome proper person, a strong body, very
good mien, and brave to the last degree. His name was Fielding and we
called him Captain, though it be a very unusual title in a college;
but fate had some hand in the title, for he had certainly the lines of
a soldier drawn in his countenance. I imparted to him the resolutions
I had taken, and how I had my father's consent to go abroad, and would
know his mind whether he would go with me. He sent me word he would go
with all his heart.
My father, when he saw him, for I sent for him immediately to come
to me, mightily approved my choice; so we got our equipage ready, and
came away for London.
'Twas on the 22nd of April 1630, when we embarked at Dover, landed in
a few hours at Calais, and immediately took post for Paris. I shall
not trouble the reader with a journal of my travels, nor with the
description of places, which every geographer can do better than I;
but these Memoirs being only a relation of what happened either to
ourselves, or in our own knowledge, I shall confine myself to that
part of it.
We had indeed some diverting passages in our journey to Paris, as
first, the horse my comrade was upon fell so very lame with a slip
that he could not go, and hardly stand, and the fellow that rid with
us express, pretended to ride away to a town five miles off to get a
fresh horse, and so left us on the road with one horse between two of
us. We followed as well as we could, but being strangers, missed the
way, and wandered a great way out the road. Whether the man performed
in reasonable time or not we could not be sure, but if it had not been
for an old priest, we had never found him. We met this man, by a very
good accident, near a little village whereof he was curate. We spoke
Latin enough just to make him understand us, and he did not speak it
much better himself; but he carried us into the village to his house,
gave us wine and bread, and entertained us with wonderful courtesy.
After this he sent into the village, hired a peasant, and a horse for
my captain, and sent him to guide us into the road. At parting he
made a great many compliments to us in French, which we could just
understand; but the sum was, to excuse him for a question he had
a mind to ask us. After leave to ask what he pleased, it was if we
wanted any money for our journey, and pulled out two pistoles, which
he offered either to give or lend us.
I mention this exceeding courtesy of the curate because, though
civility is very much in use in France, and especially to strangers,
yet 'tis a very unusual thing to have them part with their money.
We let the priest know, first, that we did not want money, and next
that we were very sensible of the obligation he had put upon us; and
I told him in particular, if I lived to see him again, I would
acknowledge it.
This accident of our horse was, as we afterwards found, of some use
to us. We had left our two servants behind us at Calais to bring our
baggage after us, by reason of some dispute between the captain of the
packet and the custom-house officer, which could not be adjusted, and
we were willing to be at Paris. The fellows followed as fast as they
could, and, as near as we could learn, in the time we lost our way,
were robbed, and our portmanteaus opened. They took what they pleased;
but as there was no money there, but linen and necessaries, the loss
was not great.
Our guide carried us to Amiens, where we found the express and our two
servants, who the express meeting on the road with a spare horse, had
brought back with him thither.
We took this for a good omen of our successful journey, having escaped
a danger which might have been greater to us than it was to our
servants; for the highwaymen in France do not always give a traveller
the civility of bidding him stand and deliver his money, but
frequently fire on him first, and then take his money.
We stayed one day at Amiens, to adjust this little disorder, and
walked about the town, and into the great church, but saw nothing
very remarkable there; but going across a broad street near the great
church, we saw a crowd of people gazing at a mountebank doctor, who
made a long harangue to them with a thousand antic postures, and gave
out bills this way, and boxes of physic that way, and had a great
trade, when on a sudden the people raised a cry, "_Larron, Larron_!"
(in English, "Thief, thief"), on the other side the street, and all
the auditors ran away, from Mr Doctor to see what the matter was.
Among the rest we went to see, and the case was plain and short
enough. Two English gentlemen and a Scotchman, travellers as we were,
were standing gazing at this prating doctor, and one of them catched
a fellow picking his pocket. The fellow had got some of his money, for
he dropped two or three pieces just by him, and had got hold of
his watch, but being surprised let it slip again. But the reason of
telling this story is for the management of it. This thief had his
seconds so ready, that as soon as the Englishman had seized him they
fell in, pretended to be mighty zealous for the stranger, takes the
fellow by the throat, and makes a great bustle; the gentleman not
doubting but the man was secured let go his own hold of him, and left
him to them. The hubbub was great, and 'twas these fellows cried,
"_Larron, larron_!" but with a dexterity peculiar to themselves had
let the right fellow go, and pretended to be all upon one of their own
gang. At last they bring the man to the gentleman to ask him what the
fellow had done, who, when he saw the person they seized on, presently
told them that was not the man. Then they seemed to be in more
consternation than before, and spread themselves all over the street,
crying, "_Larron, larron_!" pretending to search for the fellow; and
so one one way, one another, they were all gone, the noise went over,
the gentlemen stood looking one at another, and the bawling doctor
began to have the crowd about him again. This was the first French
trick I had the opportunity of seeing, but I was told they have a
great many more as dexterous as this.
We soon got acquaintance with these gentlemen, who were going to
Paris, as well as we; so the next day we made up our company with
them, and were a pretty troop of five gentlemen and four servants.
As we had really no design to stay long at Paris, so indeed, excepting
the city itself, there was not much to be seen there. Cardinal
Richelieu, who was not only a supreme minister in the Church, but
Prime Minister in the State, was now made also General of the King's
Forces, with a title never known in France before nor since, viz.,
Lieutenant-General "au place du Roi," in the king's stead, or, as some
have since translated it, representing the person of the king.
Under this character he pretended to execute all the royal powers in
the army without appeal to the king, or without waiting for orders;
and having parted from Paris the winter before had now actually begun
the war against the Duke of Savoy, in the process of which he restored
the Duke of Mantua, and having taken Pignerol from the duke, put it
into such a state of defence as the duke could never force it out of
his hands, and reduced the duke, rather by manage and conduct than
by force, to make peace without it; so as annexing it to the crown of
France it has ever since been a thorn in his foot that has always
made the peace of Savoy lame and precarious, and France has since made
Pignerol one of the strongest fortresses in the world.
As the cardinal, with all the military part of the court, was in the
field, so the king, to be near him, was gone with the queen and all
the court, just before I reached Paris, to reside at Lyons. All these
considered, there was nothing to do at Paris; the court looked like a
citizen's house when the family was all gone into the country, and
I thought the whole city looked very melancholy, compared to all the
fine things I had heard of it.
The queen-mother and her party were chagrined at the cardinal, who,
though he owed his grandeur to her immediate favour, was now grown too
great any longer to be at the command of her Majesty, or indeed in her
interest; and therefore the queen was under dissatisfaction and her
party looked very much down.
The Protestants were everywhere disconsolate, for the losses they had
received at Rochelle, Nimes, and Montpelier had reduced them to an
absolute dependence on the king's will, without all possible hopes of
ever recovering themselves, or being so much as in a condition to
take arms for their religion, and therefore the wisest of them plainly
foresaw their own entire reduction, as it since came to pass. And I
remember very well that a Protestant gentleman told me once, as we
were passing from Orleans to Lyons, that the English had ruined them;
and therefore, says he, "I think the next occasion the king takes to
use us ill, as I know 'twill not be long before he does, we must all
fly over to England, where you are bound to maintain us for having
helped to turn us out of our own country." I asked him what he meant
by saying the English had done it? He returned short upon me: "I do
not mean," says he, "by not relieving Rochelle, but by helping to ruin
Rochelle, when you and the Dutch lent ships to beat our fleet, which
all the ships in France could not have done without you."
I was too young in the world to be very sensible of this before, and
therefore was something startled at the charge; but when I came to
discourse with this gentleman, I soon saw the truth of what he said
was undeniable, and have since reflected on it with regret, that the
naval power of the Protestants, which was then superior to the royal,
would certainly have been the recovery of all their fortunes, had it
not been unhappily broke by their brethren of England and Holland,
the former lending seven men-of-war, and the latter twenty, for the
destruction of the Rochellers' fleet; and by these very ships the
Rochellers' fleet were actually beaten and destroyed, and they never
afterwards recovered their force at sea, and by consequence sunk under
the siege, which the English afterwards in vain attempted to prevent.
These things made the Protestants look very dull, and expected the
ruin of all their party, which had certainly happened had the cardinal
lived a few years longer.
We stayed in Paris, about three weeks, as well to see the court and
what rarities the place afforded, as by an occasion which had like to
have put a short period to our ramble.
Walking one morning before the gate of the Louvre, with a design to
see the Swiss drawn up, which they always did, and exercised just
before they relieved the guards, a page came up to me, and speaking
English to me, "Sir," says he, "the captain must needs have your
immediate assistance." I, that had not the knowledge of any person
in Paris but my own companion, whom I called captain, had no room to
question, but it was he that sent for me; and crying out hastily to
him, "Where?" followed the fellow as fast as 'twas possible. He led
me through several passages which I knew not, and at last through a
tennis-court and into a large room, where three men, like gentlemen,
were engaged very briskly two against one. The room was very dark, so
that I could not easily know them asunder, but being fully possessed
with an opinion before of my captain's danger, I ran into the room
with my sword in my hand. I had not particularly engaged any of them,
nor so much as made a pass at any, when I received a very dangerous
thrust in my thigh, rather occasioned by my too hasty running in,
than a real design of the person; but enraged at the hurt, without
examining who it was hurt me, I threw myself upon him, and run my
sword quite through his body.
The novelty of the adventure, and the unexpected fall of the man by
a stranger come in nobody knew how, had becalmed the other two, that
they really stood gazing at me. By this time I had discovered that my
captain was not there, and that 'twas some strange accident brought
me thither. I could speak but little French, and supposed they could
speak no English, so I stepped to the door to see for the page that
brought me thither, but seeing nobody there and the passage clear,
I made off as fast as I could, without speaking a word; nor did the
other two gentlemen offer to stop me.
But I was in a strange confusion when, coming into those entries and
passages which the page led me through, I could by no means find my
way out. At last seeing a door open that looked through a house into
the street, I went in, and out at the other door; but then I was at
as great a loss to know where I was, and which was the way to my
lodgings. The wound in my thigh bled apace, and I could feel the blood
in my breeches. In this interval came by a chair; I called, and went
into it, and bid them, as well as I could, go to the Louvre; for
though I knew not the name of the street where I lodged, I knew I
could find the way to it when I was at the Bastille. The chairmen went
on their own way, and being stopped by a company of the guards as they
went, set me down till the soldiers were marched by; when looking out
I found I was just at my own lodging, and the captain was standing at
the door looking for me. I beckoned him to me, and, whispering, told
him I was very much hurt, but bid him pay the chairmen, and ask no
questions but come to me.
I made the best of my way upstairs, but had lost so much blood, that I
had hardly spirits enough to keep me from swooning till he came in.
He was equally concerned with me to see me in such a bloody condition,
and presently called up our landlord, and he as quickly called in his
neighbours, that I had a room full of people about me in a quarter
of an hour. But this had like to have been of worse consequence to me
than the other, for by this time there was great inquiring after the
person who killed a man at the tennis-court. My landlord was then
sensible of his mistake, and came to me and told me the danger I was
in, and very honestly offered to convey me to a friend's of his, where
I should be very secure; I thanked him, and suffered myself to be
carried at midnight whither he pleased. He visited me very often, till
I was well enough to walk about, which was not in less than ten days,
and then we thought fit to be gone, so we took post for Orleans. But
when I came upon the road I found myself in a new error, for my wound
opened again with riding, and I was in a worse condition than before,
being forced to take up at a little village on the road, called ----,
about ---- miles from Orleans, where there was no surgeon to be had,
but a sorry country barber, who nevertheless dressed me as well as he
could, and in about a week more I was able to walk to Orleans at three
times. Here I stayed till I was quite well, and took coach for Lyons
and so through Savoy into Italy.
I spent nearly two years' time after this bad beginning in travelling
through Italy, and to the several courts of Rome, Naples, Venice, and
Vienna.
When I came to Lyons the king was gone from thence to Grenoble to meet
the cardinal, but the queens were both at Lyons.
The French affairs seemed at this time to have but an indifferent
aspect. There was no life in anything but where the cardinal was: he
pushed on everything with extraordinary conduct, and generally with
success; he had taken Susa and Pignerol from the Duke of Savoy, and
was preparing to push the duke even out of all his dominions.
But in the meantime everywhere else things looked ill; the troops
were ill-paid, the magazines empty, the people mutinous, and a general
disorder seized the minds of the court; and the cardinal, who was the
soul of everything, desired this interview at Grenoble, in order to
put things into some better method.
This politic minister always ordered matters so, that if there was
success in anything the glory was his, but if things miscarried it was
all laid upon the king. This conduct was so much the more nice, as it
is the direct contrary to the custom in like cases, where kings assume
the glory of all the success in an action, and when a thing miscarries
make themselves easy by sacrificing their ministers and favourites
to the complaints and resentments of the people; but this accurate
refined statesman got over this point.
While we were at Lyons, and as I remember, the third day after our
coming thither, we had like to have been involved in a state broil,
without knowing where we were. It was of a Sunday in the evening, the
people of Lyons, who had been sorely oppressed in taxes, and the war
in Italy pinching their trade, began to be very tumultuous. We found
the day before the mob got together in great crowds, and talked oddly;
the king was everywhere reviled, and spoken disrespectfully of, and
the magistrates of the city either winked at, or durst not attempt to
meddle, lest they should provoke the people.
But on Sunday night, about midnight, we were waked by a prodigious
noise in the street. I jumped out of bed, and running to the window,
I saw the street as full of mob as it could hold, some armed with
muskets and halberds, marched in very good order; others in disorderly
crowds, all shouting and crying out, "Du paix le roi," and the like.
One that led a great party of this rabble carried a loaf of bread upon
the top of a pike, and other lesser loaves, signifying the smallness
of their bread, occasioned by dearness.
By morning this crowd was gathered to a great height; they ran roving
over the whole city, shut up all the shops, and forced all the
people to join with them from thence. They went up to the castle, and
renewing the clamour, a strange consternation seized all the princes.
They broke open the doors of the officers, collectors of the new
taxes, and plundered their houses, and had not the persons themselves
fled in time they had been very ill-treated.
The queen-mother, as she was very much displeased to see such
consequences of the government, in whose management she had no share,
so I suppose she had the less concern upon her. However, she came into
the court of the castle and showed herself to the people, gave money
amongst them, and spoke gently to them; and by a way peculiar to
herself, and which obliged all she talked with, she pacified the mob
gradually, sent them home with promises of redress and the like; and
so appeased this tumult in two days by her prudence, which the guards
in the castle had small mind to meddle with, and if they had, would in
all probability have made the better side the worse.
There had been several seditions of the like nature in sundry other
parts of France, and the very army began to murmur, though not to
mutiny, for want of provisions.
This sedition at Lyons was not quite over when we left the place,
for, finding the city all in a broil, we considered we had no business
there, and what the consequence of a popular tumult might be we did
not see, so we prepared to be gone. We had not rid above three miles
out of the city but we were brought as prisoners of war, by a party of
mutineers, who had been abroad upon the scout, and were charged
with being messengers sent to the cardinal for forces to reduce the
citizens. With these pretences they brought us back in triumph, and
the queen-mother, being by this time grown something familiar to them,
they carried us before her.
When they inquired of us who we were, we called ourselves Scots; for
as the English were very much out of favour in France at this time,
the peace having been made not many months, and not supposed to
be very durable, because particularly displeasing to the people of
England, so the Scots were on the other extreme with the French.
Nothing was so much caressed as the Scots, and a man had no more to
do in France, if he would be well received there, than to say he was a
Scotchman.
When we came before the queen-mother she seemed to receive us with
some stiffness at first, and caused her guards to take us into
custody; but as she was a lady of most exquisite politics, she did
this to amuse the mob, and we were immediately after dismissed; and
the queen herself made a handsome excuse to us for the rudeness we had
suffered, alleging the troubles of the times; and the next morning we
had three dragoons of the guards to convoy us out of the jurisdiction
of Lyons.
I confess this little adventure gave me an aversion to popular tumults
all my life after, and if nothing else had been in the cause, would
have biassed me to espouse the king's party in England when our
popular heats carried all before it at home.
But I must say, that when I called to mind since, the address, the
management, the compliance in show, and in general the whole conduct
of the queen-mother with the mutinous people of Lyons, and compared it
with the conduct of my unhappy master the King of England, I could not
but see that the queen understood much better than King Charles the
management of politics and the clamours of the people.
Had this princess been at the helm in England, she would have
prevented all the calamities of the Civil War here, and yet not have
parted with what that good prince yielded in order to peace neither.
She would have yielded gradually, and then gained upon them gradually;
she would have managed them to the point she had designed them, as she
did all parties in France; and none could effectually subject her but
the very man she had raised to be her principal support--I mean the
cardinal.
We went from hence to Grenoble, and arrived there the same day that
the king and the cardinal with the whole court went out to view a body
of 6000 Swiss foot, which the cardinal had wheedled the cantons to
grant to the king to help to ruin their neighbour the Duke of Savoy.
The troops were exceeding fine, well-accoutred, brave, clean-limbed,
stout fellows indeed. Here I saw the cardinal; there was an air of
church gravity in his habit, but all the vigour of a general, and
the sprightliness of a vast genius in his face. He affected a little
stiffness in his behaviour, but managed all his affairs with such
clearness, such steadiness, and such application, that it was no
wonder he had such success in every undertaking.
Here I saw the king, whose figure was mean, his countenance hollow,
and always seemed dejected, and every way discovering that weakness in
his countenance that appeared in his actions.
If he was ever sprightly and vigorous it was when the cardinal was
with him, for he depended so much on everything he did, he that was at
the utmost dilemma when he was absent, always timorous, jealous, and
irresolute.
After the review the cardinal was absent some days, having been to
wait on the queen-mother at Lyons, where, as it was discoursed, they
were at least seemingly reconciled.
I observed while the cardinal was gone there was no court, the king
was seldom to be seen, very small attendance given, and no bustle at
the castle; but as soon as the cardinal returned, the great councils
were assembled, the coaches of the ambassadors went every day to the
castle, and a face of business appeared upon the whole court.
Here the measures of the Duke of Savoy's ruin were concerted, and in
order to it the king and the cardinal put themselves at the head
of the army, with which they immediately reduced all Savoy, took
Chamberri and the whole duchy except Montmelian.
The army that did this was not above 22,000 men, including the Swiss,
and but indifferent troops neither, especially the French foot, who,
compared to the infantry I have since seen in the German and Swedish
armies, were not fit to be called soldiers. On the other hand,
considering the Savoyards and Italian troops, they were good troops;
but the cardinal's conduct made amends for all these deficiencies.
From hence I went to Pignerol, which was then little more than a
single fortification on the hill near the town called St Bride's, but
the situation of that was very strong. I mention this because of the
prodigious works since added to it, by which it has since obtained the
name of "the right hand of France." They had begun a new line below
the hill, and some works were marked out on the side of the town next
the fort; but the cardinal afterwards drew the plan of the works with
his own hand, by which it was made one of the strongest fortresses in
Europe.
While I was at Pignerol, the governor of Milan, for the Spaniards,
came with an army and sat down before Casale. The grand quarrel,
and for which the war in this part of Italy was begun, was this: The
Spaniards and Germans pretended to the duchy of Mantua; the Duke
of Nevers, a Frenchman, had not only a title to it, but had got
possession of it; but being ill-supported by the French, was beaten
out by the Imperialists, and after a long siege the Germans took
Mantua itself, and drove the poor duke quite out of the country.
The taking of Mantua elevated the spirits of the Duke of Savoy, and
the Germans and Spaniards being now at more leisure, with a complete
army came to his assistance, and formed the siege of Montferrat.
For as the Spaniards pushed the Duke of Mantua, so the French by
way of diversion lay hard upon the Duke of Savoy. They had seized
Montferrat, and held it for the Duke of Mantua, and had a strong
French garrison under Thoiras, a brave and experienced commander; and
thus affairs stood when we came into the French army.
I had no business there as a soldier, but having passed as a Scotch
gentleman with the mob at Lyons, and after with her Majesty the
queen-mother, when we obtained the guard of her dragoons, we had also
her Majesty's pass, with which we came and went where we pleased. And
the cardinal, who was then not on very good terms with the queen, but
willing to keep smooth water there, when two or three times our passes
came to be examined, showed a more than ordinary respect to us on that
very account, our passes being from the queen.
Casale being besieged, as I have observed, began to be in danger, for
the cardinal, who 'twas thought had formed a design to ruin Savoy, was
more intent upon that than upon the succour of the Duke of Mantua; but
necessity calling upon him to deliver so great a captain as Thoiras,
and not to let such a place as Casale fall into the hands of the
enemy, the king, or cardinal rather, ordered the Duke of Montmorency,
and the Maréchal D'Effiat, with 10,000 foot and 2000 horse, to march
and join the Maréchals De La Force and Schomberg, who lay already with
an army on the frontiers of Genoa, but too weak to attempt the raising
the siege of Casale.
As all men thought there would be a battle between the French and the
Spaniards, I could not prevail with myself to lose the opportunity,
and therefore by the help of the passes above mentioned, I came to
the French army under the Duke of Montmorency. We marched through the
enemy's country with great boldness and no small hazard, for the Duke
of Savoy appeared frequently with great bodies of horse on the rear of
the army, and frequently skirmished with our troops, in one of which
I had the folly--I can call it no better, for I had no business
there--to go out and see the sport, as the French gentlemen called it.
I was but a raw soldier, and did not like the sport at all, for this
party was surrounded by the Duke of Savoy, and almost all killed, for
as to quarter they neither asked nor gave. I ran away very fairly,
one of the first, and my companion with me, and by the goodness of our
horses got out of the fray, and being not much known in the army, we
came into the camp an hour or two after, as if we had been only riding
abroad for the air.
This little rout made the general very cautious, for the Savoyards
were stronger in horse by three or four thousand, and the army always
marched in a body, and kept their parties in or very near hand.
I escaped another rub in this French army about five days after, which
had like to have made me pay dear for my curiosity.
The Duke de Montmorency and the Maréchal Schomberg joined their army
about four or five days after, and immediately, according to the
cardinal's instructions, put themselves on the march for the relief of
Casale.
The army had marched over a great plain, with some marshy grounds
on the right and the Po on the left, and as the country was so well
discovered that 'twas thought impossible any mischief should happen,
the generals observed the less caution. At the end of this plain was a
long wood and a lane or narrow defile through the middle of it.
Through this pass the army was to march, and the van began to file
through it about four o'clock. By three hours' time all the army was
got through, or into the pass, and the artillery was just entered
when the Duke of Savoy with 4000 horse and 1500 dragoons with every
horseman a footman behind him, whether he had swam the Po or passed it
above at a bridge, and made a long march after, was not examined, but
he came boldly up the plain and charged our rear with a great deal of
fury.
Our artillery was in the lane, and as it was impossible to turn them
about and make way for the army, so the rear was obliged to support
themselves and maintain the fight for above an hour and a half.
In this time we lost abundance of men, and if it had not been for two
accidents all that line had been cut off. One was, that the wood was
so near that those regiments which were disordered presently sheltered
themselves in the wood; the other was, that by this time the Maréchal
Schomberg, with the horse of the van, began to get back through the
lane, and to make good the ground from whence the other had been
beaten, till at last by this means it came to almost a pitched battle.
There were two regiments of French dragoons who did excellent service
in this action, and maintained their ground till they were almost all
killed.
Had the Duke of Savoy contented himself with the defeat of five
regiments on the right, which he quite broke and drove into the wood,
and with the slaughter and havoc which he had made among the rest,
he had come off with honour, and might have called it a victory; but
endeavouring to break the whole party and carry off some cannon, the
obstinate resistance of these few dragoons lost him his advantages,
and held him in play till so many fresh troops got through the pass
again as made us too strong for him, and had not night parted them he
had been entirely defeated.
At last, finding our troops increase and spread themselves on his
flank, he retired and gave over. We had no great stomach to pursue him
neither, though some horse were ordered to follow a little way.
The duke lost about a thousand men, and we almost twice as many, and
but for those dragoons had lost the whole rear-guard and half our
cannon. I was in a very sorry case in this action too. I was with the
rear in the regiment of horse of Perigoort, with a captain of which
regiment I had contracted some acquaintance. I would have rid off at
first, as the captain desired me, but there was no doing it, for the
cannon was in the lane, and the horse and dragoons of the van eagerly
pressing back through the lane must have run me down or carried me
with them. As for the wood, it was a good shelter to save one's life,
but was so thick there was no passing it on horseback.
Our regiment was one of the first that was broke, and being all in
confusion, with the Duke of Savoy's men at our heels, away we ran into
the wood. Never was there so much disorder among a parcel of runaways
as when we came to this wood; it was so exceeding bushy and thick at
the bottom there was no entering it, and a volley of small shot from
a regiment of Savoy's dragoons poured in upon us at our breaking into
the wood made terrible work among our horses.
For my part I was got into the wood, but was forced to quit my horse,
and by that means, with a great deal of difficulty, got a little
farther in, where there was a little open place, and being quite spent
with labouring among the bushes I sat down resolving to take my fate
there, let it be what it would, for I was not able to go any farther.
I had twenty or thirty more in the same condition come to me in less
than half-an-hour, and here we waited very securely the success of the
battle, which was as before.
It was no small relief to those with me to hear the Savoyards were
beaten, for otherwise they had all been lost; as for me, I confess,
I was glad as it was because of the danger, but otherwise I cared not
much which had the better, for I designed no service among them.
One kindness it did me, that I began to consider what I had to do
here, and as I could give but a very slender account of myself for
what it was I run all these risks, so I resolved they should fight it
among themselves, for I would come among them no more.
The captain with whom, as I noted above, I had contracted some
acquaintance in this regiment, was killed in this action, and the
French had really a great blow here, though they took care to conceal
it all they could; and I cannot, without smiling, read some of the
histories and memoirs of this action, which they are not ashamed to
call a victory.
We marched on to Saluzzo, and the next day the Duke of Savoy presented
himself in battalia on the other side of a small river, giving us a
fair challenge to pass and engage him. We always said in our camp that
the orders were to fight the Duke of Savoy wherever we met him; but
though he braved us in our view we did not care to engage him, but we
brought Saluzzo to surrender upon articles, which the duke could not
relieve without attacking our camp, which he did not care to do.
The next morning we had news of the surrender of Mantua to the
Imperial army. We heard of it first from the Duke of Savoy's cannon,
which he fired by way of rejoicing, and which seemed to make him
amends for the loss of Saluzzo.
As this was a mortification to the French, so it quite damped the
success of the campaign, for the Duke de Montmorency imagining that
the Imperial general would send immediate assistance to the Marquis
Spinola, who besieged Casale, they called frequent councils of war
what course to take, and at last resolved to halt in Piedmont. A few
days after their resolutions were changed again by the news of the
death of the Duke of Savoy, Charles Emanuel, who died, as some say,
agitated with the extremes of joy and grief.
This put our generals upon considering again whether they should march
to the relief of Casale, but the chimera of the Germans put them by,
and so they took up quarters in Piedmont. They took several small
places from the Duke of Savoy, making advantage of the consternation
the duke's subjects were in on the death of their prince, and spread
themselves from the seaside to the banks of the Po. But here an enemy
did that for them which the Savoyards could not, for the plague got
into their quarters and destroyed abundance of people, both of the
army and of the country.
I thought then it was time for me to be gone, for I had no manner of
courage for that risk; and I think verily I was more afraid of being
taken sick in a strange country than ever I was of being killed in
battle. Upon this resolution I procured a pass to go for Genoa, and
accordingly began my journey, but was arrested at Villa Franca by a
slow lingering fever, which held me about five days, and then turned
to a burning malignancy, and at last to the plague. My friend, the
captain, never left me night nor day; and though for four days more I
knew nobody, nor was capable of so much as thinking of myself, yet it
pleased God that the distemper gathered in my neck, swelled and broke.
During the swelling I was raging mad with the violence of pain, which
being so near my head swelled that also in proportion, that my eyes
were swelled up, and for the twenty-four hours my tongue and mouth;
then, as my servant told me, all the physicians gave me over, as past
all remedy, but by the good providence of God the swelling broke.
The prodigious collection of matter which this swelling discharged
gave me immediate relief, and I became sensible in less than an hour's
time; and in two hours or thereabouts fell into a little slumber which
recovered my spirits and sensibly revived me. Here I lay by it till
the middle of September. My captain fell sick after me, but recovered
quickly. His man had the plague, and died in two days; my man held it
out well.
About the middle of September we heard of a truce concluded between
all parties, and being unwilling to winter at Villa Franca, I got
passes, and though we were both but weak, we began to travel in
litters for Milan.
And here I experienced the truth of an old English proverb, that
standers-by see more than the gamesters.
The French, Savoyards, and Spaniards made this peace or truce all for
separate and several grounds, and every one were mistaken.
The French yielded to it because they had given over the relief of
Casale, and were very much afraid it would fall into the hands of the
Marquis Spinola. The Savoyards yielded to it because they were afraid
the French would winter in Piedmont; the Spaniards yielded to it
because the Duke of Savoy being dead, and the Count de Colalto, the
Imperial general, giving no assistance, and his army weakened by
sickness and the fatigues of the siege, he foresaw he should never
take the town, and wanted but to come off with honour.
The French were mistaken, because really Spinola was so weak that had
they marched on into Montferrat the Spaniards must have raised the
siege; the Duke of Savoy was mistaken, because the plague had so
weakened the French that they durst not have stayed to winter in
Piedmont; and Spinola was mistaken, for though he was very slow, if he
had stayed before the town one fortnight longer, Thoiras the governor
must have surrendered, being brought to the last extremity.
Of all these mistakes the French had the advantage, for Casale, was
relieved, the army had time to be recruited, and the French had the
best of it by an early campaign.
I passed through Montferrat in my way to Milan just as the truce was
declared, and saw the miserable remains of the Spanish army, who by
sickness, fatigue, hard duty, the sallies of the garrison and such
like consequences, were reduced to less than 2000 men, and of them
above 1000 lay wounded and sick in the camp.
Here were several regiments which I saw drawn out to their arms that
could not make up above seventy or eighty men, officers and all, and
those half starved with hunger, almost naked, and in a lamentable
condition. From thence I went into the town, and there things were
still in a worse condition, the houses beaten down, the walls and
works ruined, the garrison, by continual duty, reduced from 4500 men
to less than 800, without clothes, money, or provisions, the brave
governor weak with continual fatigue, and the whole face of things in
a miserable case.
The French generals had just sent them 30,000 crowns for present
supply, which heartened them a little, but had not the truce been made
as it was, they must have surrendered upon what terms the Spaniards
had pleased to make them.
Never were two armies in such fear of one another with so little
cause; the Spaniards afraid of the French whom the plague had
devoured, and the French afraid of the Spaniards whom the siege had
almost ruined.
The grief of this mistake, together with the sense of his master,
the Spaniards, leaving him without supplies to complete the siege of
Casale, so affected the Marquis Spinola, that he died for grief, and
in him fell the last of that rare breed of Low Country soldiers, who
gave the world so great and just a character of the Spanish infantry,
as the best soldiers of the world; a character which we see them so
very much degenerated from since, that they hardly deserve the name of
soldiers.
I tarried at Milan the rest of the winter, both for the recovery of my
health, and also for supplies from England.
Here it was I first heard the name of Gustavus Adolphus, the king of
Sweden, who now began his war with the emperor; and while the king
of France was at Lyons, the league with Sweden was made, in which the
French contributed 1,200,000 crowns in money, and 600,000 per annum
to the attempt of Gustavus Adolphus. About this time he landed in
Pomerania, took the towns of Stettin and Stralsund, and from thence
proceeded in that prodigious manner of which I shall have occasion to
be very particular in the prosecution of these Memoirs.
I had indeed no thoughts of seeing that king or his armies. I had
been so roughly handled already, that I had given over the thoughts
of appearing among the fighting people, and resolved in the spring
to pursue my journey to Venice, and so for the rest of Italy. Yet
I cannot deny that as every Gazette gave us some accounts of the
conquests and victories of this glorious prince, it prepossessed my
thoughts with secret wishes of seeing him, but these were so young
and unsettled, that I drew no resolutions from them for a long while
after.
About the middle of January I left Milan and came to Genoa, from
thence by sea to Leghorn, then to Naples, Rome, and Venice, but saw
nothing in Italy that gave me any diversion.
As for what is modern, I saw nothing but lewdness, private murders,
stabbing men at the corner of a street, or in the dark, hiring of
bravos, and the like. These were to me the modern excellencies of
Italy; and I had no gust to antiquities.
'Twas pleasant indeed when I was at Rome to say here stood the
Capitol, there the Colossus of Nero, here was the Amphitheatre of
Titus, there the Aqueduct of----, here the Forum, there the Catacombs,
here the Temple of Venus, there of Jupiter, here the Pantheon, and the
like; but I never designed to write a book. As much as was useful I
kept in my head, and for the rest, I left it to others.
I observed the people degenerated from the ancient glorious
inhabitants, who were generous, brave, and the most valiant of all
nations, to a vicious baseness of soul, barbarous, treacherous,
jealous and revengeful, lewd and cowardly, intolerably proud and
haughty, bigoted to blind, incoherent devotion, and the grossest of
idolatry.
Indeed, I think the unsuitableness of the people made the place
unpleasant to me, for there is so little in a country to recommend it
when the people disgrace it, that no beauties of the creation can make
up for the want of those excellencies which suitable society procure
the defect of. This made Italy a very unpleasant country to me;
the people were the foil to the place, all manner of hateful vices
reigning in their general way of living.
I confess I was not very religious myself, and being come abroad into
the world young enough, might easily have been drawn into evils that
had recommended themselves with any tolerable agreeableness to nature
and common manners; but when wickedness presented itself full-grown in
its grossest freedoms and liberties, it quite took away all the gust
to vice that the devil had furnished me with.
The prodigious stupid bigotry of the people also was irksome to me; I
thought there was something in it very sordid. The entire empire the
priests have over both the souls and bodies of the people, gave me a
specimen of that meanness of spirit, which is nowhere else to be seen
but in Italy, especially in the city of Rome.
At Venice I perceived it quite different, the civil authority having
a visible superiority over the ecclesiastic, and the Church being more
subject there to the State than in any other part of Italy.
For these reasons I took no pleasure in filling my memoirs of Italy
with remarks of places or things. All the antiquities and valuable
remains of the Roman nation are done better than I can pretend to by
such people who made it more their business; as for me, I went to see,
and not to write, and as little thought then of these Memoirs as I ill
furnished myself to write them.
I left Italy in April, and taking the tour of Bavaria, though very
much out of the way, I passed through Munich, Passau, Lintz, and at
last to Vienna.
I came to Vienna the 10th of April 1631, intending to have gone from
thence down the Danube into Hungary, and by means of a pass, which I
had obtained from the English ambassador at Constantinople, I designed
to have seen all the great towns on the Danube, which were then in the
hands of the Turks, and which I had read much of in the history of
the war between the Turks and the Germans; but I was diverted from my
design by the following occasion.
There had been a long bloody war in the empire of Germany for twelve
years, between the emperor, the Duke of Bavaria, the King of
Spain, and the Popish princes and electors on the one side, and the
Protestant princes on the other; and both sides having been exhausted
by the war, and even the Catholics themselves beginning to dislike the
growing power of the house of Austria, 'twas thought all parties were
willing to make peace. Nay, things were brought to that pass that some
of the Popish princes and electors began to talk of making alliances
with the King of Sweden.
Here it is necessary to observe, that the two Dukes of Mecklenburg
having been dispossessed of most of their dominions by the tyranny
of the Emperor Ferdinand, and being in danger of losing the rest,
earnestly solicited the King of Sweden to come to their assistance;
and that prince, as he was related to the house of Mecklenburg, and
especially as he was willing to lay hold of any opportunity to break
with the emperor, against whom he had laid up an implacable prejudice,
was very ready and forward to come to their assistance.
The reasons of his quarrel with the emperor were grounded upon the
Imperialists concerning themselves in the war of Poland, where the
emperor had sent 8000 foot and 2000 horse to join the Polish army
against the king, and had thereby given some check to his arms in that
war.
In pursuance, therefore, of his resolution to quarrel with the
emperor, but more particularly at the instances of the princes
above-named, his Swedish Majesty had landed the year before at
Stralsund with about 12,000 men, and having joined with some forces
which he had left in Polish Prussia, all which did not make 30,000
men, he began a war with the emperor, the greatest in event, filled
with the most famous battles, sieges, and extraordinary actions,
including its wonderful success and happy conclusion, of any war ever
maintained in the world.
The King of Sweden had already taken Stettin, Stralsund, Rostock,
Wismar, and all the strong places on the Baltic, and began to spread
himself in Germany. He had made a league with the French, as I
observed in my story of Saxony; he had now made a treaty with the Duke
of Brandenburg, and, in short, began to be terrible to the empire.
In this conjuncture the emperor called the General Diet of the empire
to be held at Ratisbon, where, as was pretended, all sides were
to treat of peace and to join forces to beat the Swedes out of the
empire. Here the emperor, by a most exquisite management, brought the
affairs of the Diet to a conclusion, exceedingly to his own advantage,
and to the farther oppression of the Protestants; and, in particular,
in that the war against the King of Sweden was to be carried on in
such manner as that the whole burden and charge would lie on the
Protestants themselves, and they be made the instruments to oppose
their best friends. Other matters also ended equally to their
disadvantage, as the methods resolved on to recover the Church lands,
and to prevent the education of the Protestant clergy; and what
remained was referred to another General Diet to be held at
Frankfort-au-Main in August 1631.
I won't pretend to say the other Protestant princes of Germany had
never made any overtures to the King of Sweden to come to their
assistance, but 'tis plain they had entered into no league with him;
that appears from the difficulties which retarded the fixing of the
treaties afterward, both with the Dukes of Brandenburg and Saxony,
which unhappily occasioned the ruin of Magdeburg.
But 'tis plain the Swede was resolved on a war with the emperor. His
Swedish majesty might, and indeed could not but foresee that if he
once showed himself with a sufficient force on the frontiers of the
empire, all the Protestant princes would be obliged by their interest
or by his arms to fall in with him, and this the consequence made
appear to be a just conclusion, for the Electors of Brandenburg and
Saxony were both forced to join with him.
First, they were willing to join with him--at least they could not
find in their hearts to join with the emperor, of whose power they
had such just apprehensions. They wished the Swedes success, and would
have been very glad to have had the work done at another man's charge,
but, like true Germans, they were more willing to be saved than to
save themselves, and therefore hung back and stood upon terms.
Secondly, they were at last forced to it. The first was forced to join
by the King of Sweden himself, who being come so far was not to be
dallied with, and had not the Duke of Brandenburg complied as he did,
he had been ruined by the Swede. The Saxon was driven into the arms
of the Swede by force, for Count Tilly, ravaging his country, made him
comply with any terms to be saved from destruction.
Thus matters stood at the end of the Diet at Ratisbon. The King
of Sweden began to see himself leagued against at the Diet both by
Protestant and Papist; and, as I have often heard his Majesty say
since, he had resolved to try to force them off from the emperor, and
to treat them as enemies equally with the rest if they did not.
But the Protestants convinced him soon after, that though they
were tricked into the outward appearance of a league against him at
Ratisbon, they had no such intentions; and by their ambassadors to him
let him know that they only wanted his powerful assistance to defend
their councils, when they would soon convince him that they had a due
sense of the emperor's designs, and would do their utmost for their
liberty. And these I take to be the first invitations the King of
Sweden had to undertake the Protestant cause as such, and which
entitled him to say he fought for the liberty and religion of the
German nation.
I have had some particular opportunities to hear these things form the
mouths of some of the very princes themselves, and therefore am the
forwarder to relate them; and I place them here because, previous
to the part I acted on this bloody scene, 'tis necessary to let the
reader into some part of that story, and to show him in what manner
and on what occasions this terrible war began.
The Protestants, alarmed at the usage they had met with at the former
Diet, had secretly proposed among themselves to form a general union
or confederacy, for preventing that ruin which they saw, unless some
speedy remedies were applied, would be inevitable. The Elector of
Saxony, the head of the Protestants, a vigorous and politic prince,
was the first that moved it; and the Landgrave of Hesse, a zealous and
gallant prince, being consulted with, it rested a great while between
those two, no method being found practicable to bring it to pass, the
emperor being so powerful in all parts, that they foresaw the petty
princes would not dare to negotiate an affair of such a nature,
being surrounded with the Imperial forces, who by their two generals,
Wallenstein and Tilly, kept them in continual subjection and terror.
This dilemma had like to have stifled the thoughts of the union as
a thing impracticable, when one Seigensius, a Lutheran minister, a
person of great abilities, and one whom the Elector of Saxony made
great use of in matters of policy as well as religion, contrived for
them this excellent expedient.
I had the honour to be acquainted with this gentleman while I was at
Leipsic. It pleased him exceedingly to have been the contriver of so
fine a structure as the Conclusions of Leipsic, and he was glad to be
entertained on that subject. I had the relation from his own mouth,
when, but very modestly, he told me he thought 'twas an inspiration
darted on a sudden into his thoughts, when the Duke of Saxony calling
him into his closet one morning, with a face full of concern, shaking
his head, and looking very earnestly, "What will become of us,
doctor?" said the duke; "we shall all be undone at Frankfort-au-Main."
"Why so, please your highness?" says the doctor. "Why, they will fight
with the King of Sweden with our armies and our money," says the duke,
"and devour our friends and ourselves by the help of our friends and
ourselves." "But what is become of the confederacy, then," said the
doctor, "which your highness had so happily framed in your thoughts,
and which the Landgrave of Hesse was so pleased with?" "Become of it?"
says the duke, "'tis a good thought enough, but 'tis impossible to
bring it to pass among so many members of the Protestant princes as
are to be consulted with, for we neither have time to treat, nor will
half of them dare to negotiate the matter, the Imperialists being
quartered in their very bowels." "But may not some expedient be found
out," says the doctor, "to bring them all together to treat of it in
a general meeting?" "'Tis well proposed," says the duke, "but in what
town or city shall they assemble where the very deputies shall not
be besieged by Tilly or Wallenstein in fourteen days' time, and
sacrificed to the cruelty and fury of the Emperor Ferdinand?" "Will
your highness be the easier in it," replies the doctor, "if a way may
be found out to call such an assembly upon other causes, at which the
emperor may have no umbrage, and perhaps give his assent? You know the
Diet at Frankfort is at hand; 'tis necessary the Protestants should
have an assembly of their own to prepare matters for the General Diet,
and it may be no difficult matter to obtain it." The duke, surprised
with joy at the motion, embraced the doctor with an extraordinary
transport. "Thou hast done it, doctor," said he, and immediately
caused him to draw a form of a letter to the emperor, which he did
with the utmost dexterity of style, in which he was a great master,
representing to his Imperial Majesty that, in order to put an end to
the troubles of Germany, his Majesty would be pleased to permit the
Protestant princes of the empire to hold a Diet to themselves, to
consider of such matters as they were to treat of at the General
Diet, in order to conform themselves to the will and pleasure of his
Imperial Majesty, to drive out foreigners, and settle a lasting peace
in the empire. He also insinuated something of their resolutions
unanimously to give their suffrages in favour of the King of Hungary
at the election of a king of the Romans, a thing which he knew the
emperor had in his thought, and would push at with all his might at
the Diet. This letter was sent, and the bait so neatly concealed, that
the Electors of Bavaria and Mentz, the King of Hungary, and several
of the Popish princes, not foreseeing that the ruin of them all lay in
the bottom of it, foolishly advised the emperor to consent to it.
In consenting to this the emperor signed his own destruction, for here
began the conjunction of the German Protestants with the Swede, which
was the fatalest blow to Ferdinand, and which he could never recover.
Accordingly the Diet was held at Leipsic, February 8, 1630, where the
Protestants agreed on several heads for their mutual defence,
which were the grounds of the following war. These were the famous
Conclusions of Leipsic, which so alarmed the emperor and the whole
empire, that to crush it in the beginning, the emperor commanded Count
Tilly immediately to fall upon the Landgrave of Hesse and the Duke of
Saxony as the principal heads of the union; but it was too late.