Book IV.

The weak bond of union, by which Gustavus Adolphus contrived to hold

together the Protestant members of the empire, was dissolved by his

death: the allies were now again at liberty, and their alliance, to

last, must be formed anew. By the former event, if unremedied, they

would lose all the advantages they had gained at the cost of so much

bloodshed, and expose themselves to the inevitable danger of becoming

one after the other the prey of an enemy, whom, by their union alone,

they had been able to oppose and to master. Neither Sweden, nor any of

the states of the empire, was singly a match with the Emperor and the

League; and, by seeking a peace under the present state of things, they

would necessarily be obliged to receive laws from the enemy. Union

was, therefore, equally indispensable, either for concluding a peace or

continuing the war. But a peace, sought under the present circumstances,

could not fail to be disadvantageous to the allied powers. With the

death of Gustavus Adolphus, the enemy had formed new hopes; and however

gloomy might be the situation of his affairs after the battle of Lutzen,

still the death of his dreaded rival was an event too disastrous to

the allies, and too favourable for the Emperor, not to justify him in

entertaining the most brilliant expectations, and not to encourage

him to the prosecution of the war. Its inevitable consequence, for the

moment at least, must be want of union among the allies, and what

might not the Emperor and the League gain from such a division of their

enemies? He was not likely to sacrifice such prospects, as the present

turn of affairs held out to him, for any peace, not highly beneficial

to himself; and such a peace the allies would not be disposed to accept.

They naturally determined, therefore, to continue the war, and for this

purpose, the maintenance of the existing union was acknowledged to be

indispensable.

But how was this union to be renewed? and whence were to be derived the

necessary means for continuing the war? It was not the power of Sweden,

but the talents and personal influence of its late king, which had given

him so overwhelming an influence in Germany, so great a command over

the minds of men; and even he had innumerable difficulties to overcome,

before he could establish among the states even a weak and wavering

alliance. With his death vanished all, which his personal qualities

alone had rendered practicable; and the mutual obligation of the states

seemed to cease with the hopes on which it had been founded. Several

impatiently threw off the yoke which had always been irksome; others

hastened to seize the helm which they had unwillingly seen in the

hands of Gustavus, but which, during his lifetime, they did not dare to

dispute with him. Some were tempted, by the seductive promises of the

Emperor, to abandon the alliance; others, oppressed by the heavy burdens

of a fourteen years' war, longed for the repose of peace, upon any

conditions, however ruinous. The generals of the army, partly German

princes, acknowledged no common head, and no one would stoop to receive

orders from another. Unanimity vanished alike from the cabinet and the

field, and their common weal was threatened with ruin, by the spirit of

disunion.

Gustavus had left no male heir to the crown of Sweden: his daughter

Christina, then six years old, was the natural heir. The unavoidable

weakness of a regency, suited ill with that energy and resolution, which

Sweden would be called upon to display in this trying conjuncture. The

wide reaching mind of Gustavus Adolphus had raised this unimportant, and

hitherto unknown kingdom, to a rank among the powers of Europe, which it

could not retain without the fortune and genius of its author, and from

which it could not recede, without a humiliating confession of weakness.

Though the German war had been conducted chiefly on the resources of

Germany, yet even the small contribution of men and money, which Sweden

furnished, had sufficed to exhaust the finances of that poor kingdom,

and the peasantry groaned beneath the imposts necessarily laid upon

them. The plunder gained in Germany enriched only a few individuals,

among the nobles and the soldiers, while Sweden itself remained poor

as before. For a time, it is true, the national glory reconciled the

subject to these burdens, and the sums exacted, seemed but as a loan

placed at interest, in the fortunate hand of Gustavus Adolphus, to be

richly repaid by the grateful monarch at the conclusion of a glorious

peace. But with the king's death this hope vanished, and the deluded

people now loudly demanded relief from their burdens.

But the spirit of Gustavus Adolphus still lived in the men to whom he

had confided the administration of the kingdom. However dreadful to

them, and unexpected, was the intelligence of his death, it did not

deprive them of their manly courage; and the spirit of ancient Rome,

under the invasion of Brennus and Hannibal, animated this noble

assembly. The greater the price, at which these hard-gained advantages

had been purchased, the less readily could they reconcile themselves to

renounce them: not unrevenged was a king to be sacrificed. Called on

to choose between a doubtful and exhausting war, and a profitable but

disgraceful peace, the Swedish council of state boldly espoused the

side of danger and honour; and with agreeable surprise, men beheld this

venerable senate acting with all the energy and enthusiasm of youth.

Surrounded with watchful enemies, both within and without, and

threatened on every side with danger, they armed themselves against

them all, with equal prudence and heroism, and laboured to extend their

kingdom, even at the moment when they had to struggle for its existence.

The decease of the king, and the minority of his daughter Christina,

renewed the claims of Poland to the Swedish throne; and King Ladislaus,

the son of Sigismund, spared no intrigues to gain a party in Sweden. On

this ground, the regency lost no time in proclaiming the young queen,

and arranging the administration of the regency. All the officers of

the kingdom were summoned to do homage to their new princess; all

correspondence with Poland prohibited, and the edicts of previous

monarchs against the heirs of Sigismund, confirmed by a solemn act of

the nation. The alliance with the Czar of Muscovy was carefully renewed,

in order, by the arms of this prince, to keep the hostile Poles in

check. The death of Gustavus Adolphus had put an end to the jealousy of

Denmark, and removed the grounds of alarm which had stood in the way

of a good understanding between the two states. The representations by

which the enemy sought to stir up Christian IV. against Sweden were no

longer listened to; and the strong wish the Danish monarch entertained

for the marriage of his son Ulrick with the young princess, combined,

with the dictates of a sounder policy, to incline him to a neutrality.

At the same time, England, Holland, and France came forward with

the gratifying assurances to the regency of continued friendship and

support, and encouraged them, with one voice, to prosecute with activity

the war, which hitherto had been conducted with so much glory. Whatever

reason France might have to congratulate itself on the death of the

Swedish conqueror, it was as fully sensible of the expediency of

maintaining the alliance with Sweden. Without exposing itself to great

danger, it could not allow the power of Sweden to sink in Germany. Want

of resources of its own, would either drive Sweden to conclude a hasty

and disadvantageous peace with Austria, and then all the past efforts

to lower the ascendancy of this dangerous power would be thrown away;

or necessity and despair would drive the armies to extort from the Roman

Catholic states the means of support, and France would then be regarded

as the betrayer of those very states, who had placed themselves under

her powerful protection. The death of Gustavus, far from breaking up the

alliance between France and Sweden, had only rendered it more necessary

for both, and more profitable for France. Now, for the first time,

since he was dead who had stretched his protecting arm over Germany, and

guarded its frontiers against the encroaching designs of France, could

the latter safely pursue its designs upon Alsace, and thus be enabled to

sell its aid to the German Protestants at a dearer rate.

Strengthened by these alliances, secured in its interior, and defended

from without by strong frontier garrisons and fleets, the regency did

not delay an instant to continue a war, by which Sweden had little of

its own to lose, while, if success attended its arms, one or more of the

German provinces might be won, either as a conquest, or indemnification

of its expenses. Secure amidst its seas, Sweden, even if driven out

of Germany, would scarcely be exposed to greater peril, than if it

voluntarily retired from the contest, while the former measure was as

honourable, as the latter was disgraceful. The more boldness the

regency displayed, the more confidence would they inspire among their

confederates, the more respect among their enemies, and the more

favourable conditions might they anticipate in the event of peace. If

they found themselves too weak to execute the wide-ranging projects of

Gustavus, they at least owed it to this lofty model to do their utmost,

and to yield to no difficulty short of absolute necessity. Alas,

that motives of self-interest had too great a share in this noble

determination, to demand our unqualified admiration! For those who had

nothing themselves to suffer from the calamities of war, but were

rather to be enriched by it, it was an easy matter to resolve upon

its continuation; for the German empire was, in the end, to defray the

expenses; and the provinces on which they reckoned, would be cheaply

purchased with the few troops they sacrificed to them, and with the

generals who were placed at the head of armies, composed for the most

part of Germans, and with the honourable superintendence of all the

operations, both military and political.

But this superintendence was irreconcileable with the distance of the

Swedish regency from the scene of action, and with the slowness which

necessarily accompanies all the movements of a council.

To one comprehensive mind must be intrusted the management of Swedish

interests in Germany, and with full powers to determine at discretion

all questions of war and peace, the necessary alliances, or the

acquisitions made. With dictatorial power, and with the whole influence

of the crown which he was to represent, must this important magistrate

be invested, in order to maintain its dignity, to enforce united and

combined operations, to give effect to his orders, and to supply the

place of the monarch whom he succeeded. Such a man was found in the

Chancellor Oxenstiern, the first minister, and what is more, the friend

of the deceased king, who, acquainted with all the secrets of his

master, versed in the politics of Germany, and in the relations of all

the states of Europe, was unquestionably the fittest instrument to carry

out the plans of Gustavus Adolphus in their full extent.

Oxenstiern was on his way to Upper Germany, in order to assemble the

four Upper Circles, when the news of the king's death reached him at

Hanau. This was a heavy blow, both to the friend and the statesman.

Sweden, indeed, had lost but a king, Germany a protector; but

Oxenstiern, the author of his fortunes, the friend of his soul, and the

object of his admiration. Though the greatest sufferer in the general

loss, he was the first who by his energy rose from the blow, and the

only one qualified to repair it. His penetrating glance foresaw all

the obstacles which would oppose the execution of his plans, the

discouragement of the estates, the intrigues of hostile courts, the

breaking up of the confederacy, the jealousy of the leaders, and the

dislike of princes of the empire to submit to foreign authority. But

even this deep insight into the existing state of things, which revealed

the whole extent of the evil, showed him also the means by which it

might be overcome. It was essential to revive the drooping courage of

the weaker states, to meet the secret machinations of the enemy, to

allay the jealousy of the more powerful allies, to rouse the friendly

powers, and France in particular, to active assistance; but above all,

to repair the ruined edifice of the German alliance, and to reunite the

scattered strength of the party by a close and permanent bond of

union. The dismay which the loss of their leader occasioned the German

Protestants, might as readily dispose them to a closer alliance with

Sweden, as to a hasty peace with the Emperor; and it depended entirely

upon the course pursued, which of these alternatives they would adopt.

Every thing might be lost by the slightest sign of despondency; nothing,

but the confidence which Sweden showed in herself, could kindle among

the Germans a noble feeling of self-confidence. All the attempts of

Austria, to detach these princes from the Swedish alliance, would be

unavailing, the moment their eyes became opened to their true interests,

and they were instigated to a public and formal breach with the Emperor.

Before these measures could be taken, and the necessary points settled

between the regency and their minister, a precious opportunity of action

would, it is true, be lost to the Swedish army, of which the enemy would

be sure to take the utmost advantage. It was, in short, in the power of

the Emperor totally to ruin the Swedish interest in Germany, and to

this he was actually invited by the prudent councils of the Duke of

Friedland. Wallenstein advised him to proclaim a universal amnesty, and

to meet the Protestant states with favourable conditions. In the

first consternation produced by the fall of Gustavus Adolphus, such a

declaration would have had the most powerful effects, and probably would

have brought the wavering states back to their allegiance. But blinded

by this unexpected turn of fortune, and infatuated by Spanish counsels,

he anticipated a more brilliant issue from war, and, instead of

listening to these propositions of an accommodation, he hastened to

augment his forces. Spain, enriched by the grant of the tenth of

the ecclesiastical possessions, which the pope confirmed, sent him

considerable supplies, negociated for him at the Saxon court, and

hastily levied troops for him in Italy to be employed in Germany. The

Elector of Bavaria also considerably increased his military force; and

the restless disposition of the Duke of Lorraine did not permit him

to remain inactive in this favourable change of fortune. But while the

enemy were thus busy to profit by the disaster of Sweden, Oxenstiern was

diligent to avert its most fatal consequences.

Less apprehensive of open enemies, than of the jealousy of the friendly

powers, he left Upper Germany, which he had secured by conquests and

alliances, and set out in person to prevent a total defection of the

Lower German states, or, what would have been almost equally ruinous to

Sweden, a private alliance among themselves. Offended at the boldness

with which the chancellor assumed the direction of affairs, and inwardly

exasperated at the thought of being dictated to by a Swedish nobleman,

the Elector of Saxony again meditated a dangerous separation from

Sweden; and the only question in his mind was, whether he should

make full terms with the Emperor, or place himself at the head of

the Protestants and form a third party in Germany. Similar ideas were

cherished by Duke Ulric of Brunswick, who, indeed, showed them openly

enough by forbidding the Swedes from recruiting within his dominions,

and inviting the Lower Saxon states to Luneburg, for the purpose of

forming a confederacy among themselves. The Elector of Brandenburg,

jealous of the influence which Saxony was likely to attain in Lower

Germany, alone manifested any zeal for the interests of the Swedish

throne, which, in thought, he already destined for his son. At the

court of Saxony, Oxenstiern was no doubt honourably received; but,

notwithstanding the personal efforts of the Elector of Brandenburg,

empty promises of continued friendship were all which he could obtain.

With the Duke of Brunswick he was more successful, for with him he

ventured to assume a bolder tone. Sweden was at the time in possession

of the See of Magdeburg, the bishop of which had the power of assembling

the Lower Saxon circle. The chancellor now asserted the rights of the

crown, and by this spirited proceeding, put a stop for the present to

this dangerous assembly designed by the duke. The main object,

however, of his present journey and of his future endeavours, a general

confederacy of the Protestants, miscarried entirely, and he was obliged

to content himself with some unsteady alliances in the Saxon circles,

and with the weaker assistance of Upper Germany.

As the Bavarians were too powerful on the Danube, the assembly of the

four Upper Circles, which should have been held at Ulm, was removed to

Heilbronn, where deputies of more than twelve cities of the empire,

with a brilliant crowd of doctors, counts, and princes, attended. The

ambassadors of foreign powers likewise, France, England, and Holland,

attended this Congress, at which Oxenstiern appeared in person, with

all the splendour of the crown whose representative he was. He himself

opened the proceedings, and conducted the deliberations. After receiving

from all the assembled estates assurances of unshaken fidelity,

perseverance, and unity, he required of them solemnly and formally to

declare the Emperor and the league as enemies. But desirable as it was

for Sweden to exasperate the ill-feeling between the emperor and the

estates into a formal rupture, the latter, on the other hand, were

equally indisposed to shut out the possibility of reconciliation, by

so decided a step, and to place themselves entirely in the hands of the

Swedes. They maintained, that any formal declaration of war was useless

and superfluous, where the act would speak for itself, and their

firmness on this point silenced at last the chancellor. Warmer disputes

arose on the third and principal article of the treaty, concerning the

means of prosecuting the war, and the quota which the several states

ought to furnish for the support of the army. Oxenstiern's maxim, to

throw as much as possible of the common burden on the states, did not

suit very well with their determination to give as little as possible.

The Swedish chancellor now experienced, what had been felt by thirty

emperors before him, to their cost, that of all difficult undertakings,

the most difficult was to extort money from the Germans. Instead of

granting the necessary sums for the new armies to be raised, they

eloquently dwelt upon the calamities occasioned by the former, and

demanded relief from the old burdens, when they were required to submit

to new. The irritation which the chancellor's demand for money raised

among the states, gave rise to a thousand complaints; and the outrages

committed by the troops, in their marches and quarters, were dwelt upon

with a startling minuteness and truth.

In the service of two absolute monarchs, Oxenstiern had but little

opportunity to become accustomed to the formalities and cautious

proceedings of republican deliberations, or to bear opposition with

patience. Ready to act, the instant the necessity of action was

apparent, and inflexible in his resolution, when he had once taken it,

he was at a loss to comprehend the inconsistency of most men, who, while

they desire the end, are yet averse to the means. Prompt and impetuous

by nature, he was so on this occasion from principle; for every

thing depended on concealing the weakness of Sweden, under a firm and

confident speech, and by assuming the tone of a lawgiver, really

to become so. It was nothing wonderful, therefore, if, amidst these

interminable discussions with German doctors and deputies, he

was entirely out of his sphere, and if the deliberateness which

distinguishes the character of the Germans in their public

deliberations, had driven him almost to despair. Without respecting a

custom, to which even the most powerful of the emperors had been obliged

to conform, he rejected all written deliberations which suited so well

with the national slowness of resolve. He could not conceive how ten

days could be spent in debating a measure, which with himself was

decided upon its bare suggestion. Harshly, however, as he treated the

States, he found them ready enough to assent to his fourth motion, which

concerned himself. When he pointed out the necessity of giving a head

and a director to the new confederation, that honour was unanimously

assigned to Sweden, and he himself was humbly requested to give to the

common cause the benefit of his enlightened experience, and to take upon

himself the burden of the supreme command. But in order to prevent his

abusing the great powers thus conferred upon him, it was proposed, not

without French influence, to appoint a number of overseers, in fact,

under the name of assistants, to control the expenditure of the common

treasure, and to consult with him as to the levies, marches, and

quarterings of the troops. Oxenstiern long and strenuously resisted this

limitation of his authority, which could not fail to trammel him in the

execution of every enterprise requiring promptitude or secrecy, and at

last succeeded, with difficulty, in obtaining so far a modification of

it, that his management in affairs of war was to be uncontrolled. The

chancellor finally approached the delicate point of the indemnification

which Sweden was to expect at the conclusion of the war, from the

gratitude of the allies, and flattered himself with the hope that

Pomerania, the main object of Sweden, would be assigned to her, and that

he would obtain from the provinces, assurances of effectual cooperation

in its acquisition. But he could obtain nothing more than a vague

assurance, that in a general peace the interests of all parties would

be attended to. That on this point, the caution of the estates was not

owing to any regard for the constitution of the empire, became manifest

from the liberality they evinced towards the chancellor, at the expense

of the most sacred laws of the empire. They were ready to grant him the

archbishopric of Mentz, (which he already held as a conquest,) and only

with difficulty did the French ambassador succeed in preventing a step,

which was as impolitic as it was disgraceful. Though on the whole,

the result of the congress had fallen far short of Oxenstiern's

expectations, he had at least gained for himself and his crown his main

object, namely, the direction of the whole confederacy; he had also

succeeded in strengthening the bond of union between the four upper

circles, and obtained from the states a yearly contribution of two

millions and a half of dollars, for the maintenance of the army.

These concessions on the part of the States, demanded some return from

Sweden. A few weeks after the death of Gustavus Adolphus, sorrow ended

the days of the unfortunate Elector Palatine. For eight months he had

swelled the pomp of his protector's court, and expended on it the small

remainder of his patrimony. He was, at last, approaching the goal of his

wishes, and the prospect of a brighter future was opening, when death

deprived him of his protector. But what he regarded as the greatest

calamity, was highly favourable to his heirs. Gustavus might venture to

delay the restoration of his dominions, or to load the gift with hard

conditions; but Oxenstiern, to whom the friendship of England, Holland,

and Brandenburg, and the good opinion of the Reformed States were

indispensable, felt the necessity of immediately fulfilling the

obligations of justice. At this assembly, at Heilbronn, therefore, he

engaged to surrender to Frederick's heirs the whole Palatinate, both the

part already conquered, and that which remained to be conquered, with

the exception of Manheim, which the Swedes were to hold, until they

should be indemnified for their expenses. The Chancellor did not confine

his liberality to the family of the Palatine alone; the other allied

princes received proofs, though at a later period, of the gratitude of

Sweden, which, however, she dispensed at little cost to herself.

Impartiality, the most sacred obligation of the historian, here compels

us to an admission, not much to the honour of the champions of German

liberty. However the Protestant Princes might boast of the justice of

their cause, and the sincerity of their conviction, still the motives

from which they acted were selfish enough; and the desire of stripping

others of their possessions, had at least as great a share in the

commencement of hostilities, as the fear of being deprived of their

own. Gustavus soon found that he might reckon much more on these selfish

motives, than on their patriotic zeal, and did not fail to avail himself

of them. Each of his confederates received from him the promise of some

possession, either already wrested, or to be afterwards taken from the

enemy; and death alone prevented him from fulfilling these engagements.

What prudence had suggested to the king, necessity now prescribed to his

successor. If it was his object to continue the war, he must be ready to

divide the spoil among the allies, and promise them advantages from the

confusion which it was his object to continue. Thus he promised to the

Landgrave of Hesse, the abbacies of Paderborn, Corvey, Munster, and

Fulda; to Duke Bernard of Weimar, the Franconian Bishoprics; to the Duke

of Wirtemberg, the Ecclesiastical domains, and the Austrian counties

lying within his territories, all under the title of fiefs of Sweden.

This spectacle, so strange and so dishonourable to the German character,

surprised the Chancellor, who found it difficult to repress his

contempt, and on one occasion exclaimed, "Let it be writ in our records,

for an everlasting memorial, that a German prince made such a request

of a Swedish nobleman, and that the Swedish nobleman granted it to the

German upon German ground!"

After these successful measures, he was in a condition to take the

field, and prosecute the war with fresh vigour. Soon after the victory

at Lutzen, the troops of Saxony and Lunenburg united with the Swedish

main body; and the Imperialists were, in a short time, totally driven

from Saxony. The united army again divided: the Saxons marched towards

Lusatia and Silesia, to act in conjunction with Count Thurn against the

Austrians in that quarter; a part of the Swedish army was led by

the Duke of Weimar into Franconia, and the other by George, Duke of

Brunswick, into Westphalia and Lower Saxony.

The conquests on the Lech and the Danube, during Gustavus's expedition

into Saxony, had been maintained by the Palatine of Birkenfeld, and the

Swedish General Banner, against the Bavarians; but unable to hold their

ground against the victorious progress of the latter, supported as they

were by the bravery and military experience of the Imperial General

Altringer, they were under the necessity of summoning the Swedish

General Horn to their assistance, from Alsace. This experienced general

having captured the towns of Benfeld, Schlettstadt, Colmar, and Hagenau,

committed the defence of them to the Rhinegrave Otto Louis, and hastily

crossed the Rhine to form a junction with Banner's army. But although

the combined force amounted to more than 16,000, they could not prevent

the enemy from obtaining a strong position on the Swabian frontier,

taking Kempten, and being joined by seven regiments from Bohemia. In

order to retain the command of the important banks of the Lech and the

Danube, they were under the necessity of recalling the Rhinegrave Otto

Louis from Alsace, where he had, after the departure of Horn, found it

difficult to defend himself against the exasperated peasantry. With his

army, he was now summoned to strengthen the army on the Danube; and as

even this reinforcement was insufficient, Duke Bernard of Weimar was

earnestly pressed to turn his arms into this quarter.

Duke Bernard, soon after the opening of the campaign of 1633, had

made himself master of the town and territory of Bamberg, and was now

threatening Wurtzburg. But on receiving the summons of General Horn,

without delay he began his march towards the Danube, defeated on his

way a Bavarian army under John de Werth, and joined the Swedes near

Donauwerth. This numerous force, commanded by excellent generals, now

threatened Bavaria with a fearful inroad. The bishopric of Eichstadt was

completely overrun, and Ingoldstadt was on the point of being delivered

up by treachery to the Swedes. Altringer, fettered in his movements by

the express order of the Duke of Friedland, and left without assistance

from Bohemia, was unable to check the progress of the enemy. The most

favourable circumstances combined to further the progress of the Swedish

arms in this quarter, when the operations of the army were at once

stopped by a mutiny among the officers.

All the previous successes in Germany were owing altogether to arms;

the greatness of Gustavus himself was the work of the army, the fruit

of their discipline, their bravery, and their persevering courage under

numberless dangers and privations. However wisely his plans were laid

in the cabinet, it was to the army ultimately that he was indebted

for their execution; and the expanding designs of the general did

but continually impose new burdens on the soldiers. All the decisive

advantages of the war, had been violently gained by a barbarous

sacrifice of the soldiers' lives in winter campaigns, forced marches,

stormings, and pitched battles; for it was Gustavus's maxim never to

decline a battle, so long as it cost him nothing but men. The soldiers

could not long be kept ignorant of their own importance, and they justly

demanded a share in the spoil which had been won by their own blood.

Yet, frequently, they hardly received their pay; and the rapacity of

individual generals, or the wants of the state, generally swallowed up

the greater part of the sums raised by contributions, or levied upon the

conquered provinces. For all the privations he endured, the soldier

had no other recompense than the doubtful chance either of plunder

or promotion, in both of which he was often disappointed. During the

lifetime of Gustavus Adolphus, the combined influence of fear and hope

had suppressed any open complaint, but after his death, the murmurs were

loud and universal; and the soldiery seized the most dangerous moment to

impress their superiors with a sense of their importance. Two officers,

Pfuhl and Mitschefal, notorious as restless characters, even during the

King's life, set the example in the camp on the Danube, which in a few

days was imitated by almost all the officers of the army. They solemnly

bound themselves to obey no orders, till these arrears, now outstanding

for months, and even years, should be paid up, and a gratuity, either

in money or lands, made to each man, according to his services.

"Immense sums," they said, "were daily raised by contributions, and

all dissipated by a few. They were called out to serve amidst frost

and snow, and no reward requited their incessant labours. The soldiers'

excesses at Heilbronn had been blamed, but no one ever talked of their

services. The world rung with the tidings of conquests and victories,

but it was by their hands that they had been fought and won."

The number of the malcontents daily increased; and they even attempted

by letters, (which were fortunately intercepted,) to seduce the armies

on the Rhine and in Saxony. Neither the representations of Bernard of

Weimar, nor the stern reproaches of his harsher associate in command,

could suppress this mutiny, while the vehemence of Horn seemed only to

increase the insolence of the insurgents. The conditions they insisted

on, were that certain towns should be assigned to each regiment for the

payment of arrears. Four weeks were allowed to the Swedish Chancellor to

comply with these demands; and in case of refusal, they announced that

they would pay themselves, and never more draw a sword for Sweden.

These pressing demands, made at the very time when the military

chest was exhausted, and credit at a low ebb, greatly embarrassed

the chancellor. The remedy, he saw, must be found quickly, before the

contagion should spread to the other troops, and he should be deserted

by all his armies at once. Among all the Swedish generals, there was

only one of sufficient authority and influence with the soldiers to

put an end to this dispute. The Duke of Weimar was the favourite of the

army, and his prudent moderation had won the good-will of the soldiers,

while his military experience had excited their admiration. He now

undertook the task of appeasing the discontented troops; but, aware

of his importance, he embraced the opportunity to make advantageous

stipulations for himself, and to make the embarrassment of the

chancellor subservient to his own views.

Gustavus Adolphus had flattered him with the promise of the Duchy of

Franconia, to be formed out of the Bishoprics of Wurtzburg and Bamberg,

and he now insisted on the performance of this pledge. He at the same

time demanded the chief command, as generalissimo of Sweden. The abuse

which the Duke of Weimar thus made of his influence, so irritated

Oxenstiern, that, in the first moment of his displeasure, he gave him

his dismissal from the Swedish service. But he soon thought better of

it, and determined, instead of sacrificing so important a leader, to

attach him to the Swedish interests at any cost. He therefore granted

to him the Franconian bishoprics, as a fief of the Swedish crown,

reserving, however, the two fortresses of Wurtzburg and Koenigshofen,

which were to be garrisoned by the Swedes; and also engaged, in name of

the Swedish crown, to secure these territories to the duke. His demand

of the supreme authority was evaded on some specious pretext. The duke

did not delay to display his gratitude for this valuable grant, and by

his influence and activity soon restored tranquillity to the army. Large

sums of money, and still more extensive estates, were divided among the

officers, amounting in value to about five millions of dollars, and to

which they had no other right but that of conquest. In the mean time,

however, the opportunity for a great undertaking had been lost, and

the united generals divided their forces to oppose the enemy in other

quarters.

Gustavus Horn, after a short inroad into the Upper Palatinate, and the

capture of Neumark, directed his march towards the Swabian frontier,

where the Imperialists, strongly reinforced, threatened Wuertemberg. At

his approach, the enemy retired to the Lake of Constance, but only to

show the Swedes the road into a district hitherto unvisited by war. A

post on the entrance to Switzerland, would be highly serviceable to the

Swedes, and the town of Kostnitz seemed peculiarly well fitted to be

a point of communication between him and the confederated cantons.

Accordingly, Gustavus Horn immediately commenced the siege of it; but

destitute of artillery, for which he was obliged to send to Wirtemberg,

he could not press the attack with sufficient vigour, to prevent the

enemy from throwing supplies into the town, which the lake afforded them

convenient opportunity of doing. He, therefore, after an ineffectual

attempt, quitted the place and its neighbourhood, and hastened to meet a

more threatening danger upon the Danube.

At the Emperor's instigation, the Cardinal Infante, the brother of

Philip IV. of Spain, and the Viceroy of Milan, had raised an army

of 14,000 men, intended to act upon the Rhine, independently of

Wallenstein, and to protect Alsace. This force now appeared in Bavaria,

under the command of the Duke of Feria, a Spaniard; and, that they might

be directly employed against the Swedes, Altringer was ordered to join

them with his corps. Upon the first intelligence of their approach, Horn

had summoned to his assistance the Palsgrave of Birkenfeld, from the

Rhine; and being joined by him at Stockach, boldly advanced to meet the

enemy's army of 30,000 men.

The latter had taken the route across the Danube into Swabia, where

Gustavus Horn came so close upon them, that the two armies were only

separated from each other by half a German mile. But, instead of

accepting the offer of battle, the Imperialists moved by the Forest

towns towards Briesgau and Alsace, where they arrived in time to relieve

Breysack, and to arrest the victorious progress of the Rhinegrave, Otto

Louis. The latter had, shortly before, taken the Forest towns, and,

supported by the Palatine of Birkenfeld, who had liberated the Lower

Palatinate and beaten the Duke of Lorraine out of the field, had once

more given the superiority to the Swedish arms in that quarter. He was

now forced to retire before the superior numbers of the enemy; but Horn

and Birkenfeld quickly advanced to his support, and the Imperialists,

after a brief triumph, were again expelled from Alsace. The severity of

the autumn, in which this hapless retreat had to be conducted, proved

fatal to most of the Italians; and their leader, the Duke of Feria, died

of grief at the failure of his enterprise.

In the mean time, Duke Bernard of Weimar had taken up his position on

the Danube, with eighteen regiments of infantry and 140 squadrons

of horse, to cover Franconia, and to watch the movements of the

Imperial-Bavarian army upon that river. No sooner had Altringer

departed, to join the Italians under Feria, than Bernard, profiting

by his absence, hastened across the Danube, and with the rapidity of

lightning appeared before Ratisbon. The possession of this town would

ensure the success of the Swedish designs upon Bavaria and Austria; it

would establish them firmly on the Danube, and provide a safe refuge in

case of defeat, while it alone could give permanence to their conquests

in that quarter. To defend Ratisbon, was the urgent advice which the

dying Tilly left to the Elector; and Gustavus Adolphus had lamented it

as an irreparable loss, that the Bavarians had anticipated him in

taking possession of this place. Indescribable, therefore, was the

consternation of Maximilian, when Duke Bernard suddenly appeared before

the town, and prepared in earnest to besiege it.

The garrison consisted of not more than fifteen companies, mostly

newly-raised soldiers; although that number was more than sufficient to

weary out an enemy of far superior force, if supported by well-disposed

and warlike inhabitants. But this was not the greatest danger which the

Bavarian garrison had to contend against. The Protestant inhabitants

of Ratisbon, equally jealous of their civil and religious freedom, had

unwillingly submitted to the yoke of Bavaria, and had long looked with

impatience for the appearance of a deliverer. Bernard's arrival before

the walls filled them with lively joy; and there was much reason to

fear that they would support the attempts of the besiegers without, by

exciting a tumult within. In this perplexity, the Elector addressed the

most pressing entreaties to the Emperor and the Duke of Friedland to

assist him, were it only with 5,000 men. Seven messengers in succession

were despatched by Ferdinand to Wallenstein, who promised immediate

succours, and even announced to the Elector the near advance of 12,000

men under Gallas; but at the same time forbade that general, under pain

of death, to march. Meanwhile the Bavarian commandant of Ratisbon, in

the hope of speedy assistance, made the best preparations for defence,

armed the Roman Catholic peasants, disarmed and carefully watched the

Protestant citizens, lest they should attempt any hostile design against

the garrison. But as no relief arrived, and the enemy's artillery

incessantly battered the walls, he consulted his own safety, and that of

the garrison, by an honourable capitulation, and abandoned the Bavarian

officials and ecclesiastics to the conqueror's mercy.

The possession of Ratisbon, enlarged the projects of the duke, and

Bavaria itself now appeared too narrow a field for his bold designs.

He determined to penetrate to the frontiers of Austria, to arm the

Protestant peasantry against the Emperor, and restore to them their

religious liberty. He had already taken Straubingen, while another

Swedish army was advancing successfully along the northern bank of the

Danube. At the head of his Swedes, bidding defiance to the severity of

the weather, he reached the mouth of the Iser, which he passed in the

presence of the Bavarian General Werth, who was encamped on that

river. Passau and Lintz trembled for their fate; the terrified Emperor

redoubled his entreaties and commands to Wallenstein, to hasten with

all speed to the relief of the hard-pressed Bavarians. But here the

victorious Bernard, of his own accord, checked his career of conquest.

Having in front of him the river Inn, guarded by a number of strong

fortresses, and behind him two hostile armies, a disaffected country,

and the river Iser, while his rear was covered by no tenable position,

and no entrenchment could be made in the frozen ground, and threatened

by the whole force of Wallenstein, who had at last resolved to march to

the Danube, by a timely retreat he escaped the danger of being cut off

from Ratisbon, and surrounded by the enemy. He hastened across the

Iser to the Danube, to defend the conquests he had made in the Upper

Palatinate against Wallenstein, and fully resolved not to decline a

battle, if necessary, with that general. But Wallenstein, who was not

disposed for any great exploits on the Danube, did not wait for his

approach; and before the Bavarians could congratulate themselves on his

arrival, he suddenly withdrew again into Bohemia. The duke thus ended

his victorious campaign, and allowed his troops their well-earned repose

in winter quarters upon an enemy's country.

While in Swabia the war was thus successfully conducted by Gustavus

Horn, and on the Upper and Lower Rhine by the Palatine of Birkenfeld,

General Baudissen, and the Rhinegrave Otto Louis, and by Duke Bernard

on the Danube; the reputation of the Swedish arms was as gloriously

sustained in Lower Saxony and Westphalia by the Duke of Lunenburg and

the Landgrave of Hesse Cassel. The fortress of Hamel was taken by Duke

George, after a brave defence, and a brilliant victory obtained over the

imperial General Gronsfeld, by the united Swedish and Hessian armies,

near Oldendorf. Count Wasaburg, a natural son of Gustavus Adolphus,

showed himself in this battle worthy of his descent. Sixteen pieces of

cannon, the whole baggage of the Imperialists, together with 74 colours,

fell into the hands of the Swedes; 3,000 of the enemy perished on the

field, and nearly the same number were taken prisoners. The town of

Osnaburg surrendered to the Swedish Colonel Knyphausen, and Paderborn

to the Landgrave of Hesse; while, on the other hand, Bueckeburg, a very

important place for the Swedes, fell into the hands of the Imperialists.

The Swedish banners were victorious in almost every quarter of Germany;

and the year after the death of Gustavus, left no trace of the loss

which had been sustained in the person of that great leader.

In a review of the important events which signalized the campaign of

1633, the inactivity of a man, of whom the highest expectations had

been formed, justly excites astonishment. Among all the generals who

distinguished themselves in this campaign, none could be compared with

Wallenstein, in experience, talents, and reputation; and yet, after the

battle of Lutzen, we lose sight of him entirely. The fall of his great

rival had left the whole theatre of glory open to him; all Europe

was now attentively awaiting those exploits, which should efface the

remembrance of his defeat, and still prove to the world his military

superiority. Nevertheless, he continued inactive in Bohemia, while the

Emperor's losses in Bavaria, Lower Saxony, and the Rhine, pressingly

called for his presence -- a conduct equally unintelligible to friend

and foe -- the terror, and, at the same time, the last hope of the

Emperor. After the defeat of Lutzen he had hastened into Bohemia, where

he instituted the strictest inquiry into the conduct of his officers

in that battle. Those whom the council of war declared guilty of

misconduct, were put to death without mercy, those who had behaved with

bravery, rewarded with princely munificence, and the memory of the dead

honoured by splendid monuments. During the winter, he oppressed the

imperial provinces by enormous contributions, and exhausted the Austrian

territories by his winter quarters, which he purposely avoided taking up

in an enemy's country. And in the spring of 1633, instead of being the

first to open the campaign, with this well-chosen and well-appointed

army, and to make a worthy display of his great abilities, he was the

last who appeared in the field; and even then, it was an hereditary

province of Austria, which he selected as the seat of war.

Of all the Austrian provinces, Silesia was most exposed to danger. Three

different armies, a Swedish under Count Thurn, a Saxon under Arnheim and

the Duke of Lauenburg, and one of Brandenburg under Borgsdorf, had at

the same time carried the war into this country; they had already taken

possession of the most important places, and even Breslau had embraced

the cause of the allies. But this crowd of commanders and armies was the

very means of saving this province to the Emperor; for the jealousy of

the generals, and the mutual hatred of the Saxons and the Swedes, never

allowed them to act with unanimity. Arnheim and Thurn contended for the

chief command; the troops of Brandenburg and Saxony combined against the

Swedes, whom they looked upon as troublesome strangers who ought to be

got rid of as soon as possible. The Saxons, on the contrary, lived on

a very intimate footing with the Imperialists, and the officers of

both these hostile armies often visited and entertained each other. The

Imperialists were allowed to remove their property without hindrance,

and many did not affect to conceal that they had received large sums

from Vienna. Among such equivocal allies, the Swedes saw themselves sold

and betrayed; and any great enterprise was out of the question, while so

bad an understanding prevailed between the troops. General Arnheim, too,

was absent the greater part of the time; and when he at last returned,

Wallenstein was fast approaching the frontiers with a formidable force.

His army amounted to 40,000 men, while to oppose him the allies had only

24,000. They nevertheless resolved to give him battle, and marched to

Munsterberg, where he had formed an intrenched camp. But Wallenstein

remained inactive for eight days; he then left his intrenchments, and

marched slowly and with composure to the enemy's camp. But even after

quitting his position, and when the enemy, emboldened by his past

delay, manfully prepared to receive him, he declined the opportunity

of fighting. The caution with which he avoided a battle was imputed to

fear; but the well-established reputation of Wallenstein enabled him to

despise this suspicion. The vanity of the allies allowed them not to see

that he purposely saved them a defeat, because a victory at that time

would not have served his own ends. To convince them of his superior

power, and that his inactivity proceeded not from any fear of them, he

put to death the commander of a castle that fell into his hands, because

he had refused at once to surrender an untenable place.

For nine days, did the two armies remain within musket-shot of each

other, when Count Terzky, from the camp of the Imperialists, appeared

with a trumpeter in that of the allies, inviting General Arnheim to

a conference. The purport was, that Wallenstein, notwithstanding his

superiority, was willing to agree to a cessation of arms for six weeks.

"He was come," he said, "to conclude a lasting peace with the Swedes,

and with the princes of the empire, to pay the soldiers, and to

satisfy every one. All this was in his power; and if the Austrian court

hesitated to confirm his agreement, he would unite with the allies, and

(as he privately whispered to Arnheim) hunt the Emperor to the devil."

At the second conference, he expressed himself still more plainly to

Count Thurn. "All the privileges of the Bohemians," he engaged, "should

be confirmed anew, the exiles recalled and restored to their estates,

and he himself would be the first to resign his share of them. The

Jesuits, as the authors of all past grievances, should be banished, the

Swedish crown indemnified by stated payments, and all the superfluous

troops on both sides employed against the Turks." The last article

explained the whole mystery. "If," he continued, "HE should obtain

the crown of Bohemia, all the exiles would have reason to applaud his

generosity; perfect toleration of religions should be established within

the kingdom, the Palatine family be reinstated in its rights, and

he would accept the Margraviate of Moravia as a compensation for

Mecklenburg. The allied armies would then, under his command, advance

upon Vienna, and sword in hand, compel the Emperor to ratify the

treaty."

Thus was the veil at last removed from the schemes, over which he

had brooded for years in mysterious silence. Every circumstance now

convinced him that not a moment was to be lost in its execution. Nothing

but a blind confidence in the good fortune and military genius of

the Duke of Friedland, had induced the Emperor, in the face of the

remonstrances of Bavaria and Spain, and at the expense of his own

reputation, to confer upon this imperious leader such an unlimited

command. But this belief in Wallenstein's being invincible, had been

much weakened by his inaction, and almost entirely overthrown by the

defeat at Lutzen. His enemies at the imperial court now renewed their

intrigues; and the Emperor's disappointment at the failure of his hopes,

procured for their remonstrances a favourable reception. Wallenstein's

whole conduct was now reviewed with the most malicious criticism; his

ambitious haughtiness, his disobedience to the Emperor's orders, were

recalled to the recollection of that jealous prince, as well as the

complaints of the Austrian subjects against his boundless oppression;

his fidelity was questioned, and alarming hints thrown out as to his

secret views. These insinuations, which the conduct of the duke seemed

but too well to justify, failed not to make a deep impression on

Ferdinand; but the step had been taken, and the great power with which

Wallenstein had been invested, could not be taken from him without

danger. Insensibly to diminish that power, was the only course that now

remained, and, to effect this, it must in the first place be divided;

but, above all, the Emperor's present dependence on the good will of

his general put an end to. But even this right had been resigned in his

engagement with Wallenstein, and the Emperor's own handwriting secured

him against every attempt to unite another general with him in the

command, or to exercise any immediate act of authority over the troops.

As this disadvantageous contract could neither be kept nor broken,

recourse was had to artifice. Wallenstein was Imperial Generalissimo in

Germany, but his command extended no further, and he could not presume

to exercise any authority over a foreign army. A Spanish army was

accordingly raised in Milan, and marched into Germany under a Spanish

general. Wallenstein now ceased to be indispensable because he was no

longer supreme, and in case of necessity, the Emperor was now provided

with the means of support even against him.

The duke quickly and deeply felt whence this blow came, and whither it

was aimed. In vain did he protest against this violation of the compact,

to the Cardinal Infante; the Italian army continued its march, and he

was forced to detach General Altringer to join it with a reinforcement.

He took care, indeed, so closely to fetter the latter, as to prevent the

Italian army from acquiring any great reputation in Alsace and Swabia;

but this bold step of the court awakened him from his security, and

warned him of the approach of danger. That he might not a second time be

deprived of his command, and lose the fruit of all his labours, he must

accelerate the accomplishment of his long meditated designs. He secured

the attachment of his troops by removing the doubtful officers, and by

his liberality to the rest. He had sacrificed to the welfare of the

army every other order in the state, every consideration of justice and

humanity, and therefore he reckoned upon their gratitude. At the very

moment when he meditated an unparalleled act of ingratitude against

the author of his own good fortune, he founded all his hopes upon the

gratitude which was due to himself.

The leaders of the Silesian armies had no authority from their

principals to consent, on their own discretion, to such important

proposals as those of Wallenstein, and they did not even feel themselves

warranted in granting, for more than a fortnight, the cessation of

hostilities which he demanded. Before the duke disclosed his designs to

Sweden and Saxony, he had deemed it advisable to secure the sanction of

France to his bold undertaking. For this purpose, a secret negociation

had been carried on with the greatest possible caution and distrust, by

Count Kinsky with Feuquieres, the French ambassador at Dresden, and had

terminated according to his wishes. Feuquieres received orders from his

court to promise every assistance on the part of France, and to offer

the duke a considerable pecuniary aid in case of need.

But it was this excessive caution to secure himself on all sides, that

led to his ruin. The French ambassador with astonishment discovered

that a plan, which, more than any other, required secrecy, had been

communicated to the Swedes and the Saxons. And yet it was generally

known that the Saxon ministry was in the interests of the Emperor, and

on the other hand, the conditions offered to the Swedes fell too far

short of their expectations to be likely to be accepted. Feuquieres,

therefore, could not believe that the duke could be serious in

calculating upon the aid of the latter, and the silence of the former.

He communicated accordingly his doubts and anxieties to the Swedish

chancellor, who equally distrusted the views of Wallenstein, and

disliked his plans. Although it was no secret to Oxenstiern, that the

duke had formerly entered into a similar negociation with Gustavus

Adolphus, he could not credit the possibility of inducing a whole army

to revolt, and of his extravagant promises. So daring a design, and such

imprudent conduct, seemed not to be consistent with the duke's reserved

and suspicious temper, and he was the more inclined to consider the

whole as the result of dissimulation and treachery, because he had less

reason to doubt his prudence than his honesty.

Oxenstiern's doubts at last affected Arnheim himself, who, in full

confidence in Wallenstein's sincerity, had repaired to the chancellor

at Gelnhausen, to persuade him to lend some of his best regiments to

the duke, to aid him in the execution of the plan. They began to suspect

that the whole proposal was only a snare to disarm the allies, and

to betray the flower of their troops into the hands of the Emperor.

Wallenstein's well-known character did not contradict the suspicion, and

the inconsistencies in which he afterwards involved himself, entirely

destroyed all confidence in his sincerity. While he was endeavouring to

draw the Swedes into this alliance, and requiring the help of their best

troops, he declared to Arnheim that they must begin with expelling the

Swedes from the empire; and while the Saxon officers, relying upon the

security of the truce, repaired in great numbers to his camp, he made an

unsuccessful attempt to seize them. He was the first to break the

truce, which some months afterwards he renewed, though not without great

difficulty. All confidence in his sincerity was lost; his whole conduct

was regarded as a tissue of deceit and low cunning, devised to weaken

the allies and repair his own strength. This indeed he actually did

effect, as his own army daily augmented, while that of the allies was

reduced nearly one half by desertion and bad provisions. But he did not

make that use of his superiority which Vienna expected. When all men

were looking for a decisive blow to be struck, he suddenly renewed the

negociations; and when the truce lulled the allies into security, he as

suddenly recommenced hostilities. All these contradictions arose out of

the double and irreconcileable designs to ruin at once the Emperor and

the Swedes, and to conclude a separate peace with the Saxons.

Impatient at the ill success of his negociations, he at last determined

to display his strength; the more so, as the pressing distress within

the empire, and the growing dissatisfaction of the Imperial court,

admitted not of his making any longer delay. Before the last cessation

of hostilities, General Holk, from Bohemia, had attacked the circle of

Meissen, laid waste every thing on his route with fire and sword, driven

the Elector into his fortresses, and taken the town of Leipzig. But the

truce in Silesia put a period to his ravages, and the consequences of

his excesses brought him to the grave at Adorf. As soon as hostilities

were recommenced, Wallenstein made a movement, as if he designed to

penetrate through Lusatia into Saxony, and circulated the report that

Piccolomini had already invaded that country. Arnheim immediately broke

up his camp in Silesia, to follow him, and hastened to the assistance

of the Electorate. By this means the Swedes were left exposed, who were

encamped in small force under Count Thurn, at Steinau, on the Oder, and

this was exactly what Wallenstein desired. He allowed the Saxon general

to advance sixteen miles towards Meissen, and then suddenly turning

towards the Oder, surprised the Swedish army in the most complete

security. Their cavalry were first beaten by General Schafgotsch, who

was sent against them, and the infantry completely surrounded at Steinau

by the duke's army which followed. Wallenstein gave Count Thurn half

an hour to deliberate whether he would defend himself with 2,500 men,

against more than 20,000, or surrender at discretion. But there was

no room for deliberation. The army surrendered, and the most complete

victory was obtained without bloodshed. Colours, baggage, and artillery

all fell into the hands of the victors, the officers were taken into

custody, the privates drafted into the army of Wallenstein. And now at

last, after a banishment of fourteen years, after numberless changes of

fortune, the author of the Bohemian insurrection, and the remote origin

of this destructive war, the notorious Count Thurn, was in the power of

his enemies. With blood-thirsty impatience, the arrival of this great

criminal was looked for in Vienna, where they already anticipated the

malicious triumph of sacrificing so distinguished a victim to public

justice. But to deprive the Jesuits of this pleasure, was a still

sweeter triumph to Wallenstein, and Thurn was set at liberty.

Fortunately for him, he knew more than it was prudent to have divulged

in Vienna, and his enemies were also those of Wallenstein. A defeat

might have been forgiven in Vienna, but this disappointment of their

hopes they could not pardon. "What should I have done with this madman?"

he writes, with a malicious sneer, to the minister who called him to

account for this unseasonable magnanimity. "Would to Heaven the enemy

had no generals but such as he. At the head of the Swedish army, he will

render us much better service than in prison."

The victory of Steinau was followed by the capture of Liegnitz,

Grossglogau, and even of Frankfort on the Oder. Schafgotsch, who

remained in Silesia to complete the subjugation of that province,

blockaded Brieg, and threatened Breslau, though in vain, as that free

town was jealous of its privileges, and devoted to the Swedes. Colonels

Illo and Goetz were ordered by Wallenstein to the Warta, to push

forwards into Pomerania, and to the coasts of the Baltic, and actually

obtained possession of Landsberg, the key of Pomerania. While thus the

Elector of Brandenburg and the Duke of Pomerania were made to tremble

for their dominions, Wallenstein himself, with the remainder of his

army, burst suddenly into Lusatia, where he took Goerlitz by storm,

and forced Bautzen to surrender. But his object was merely to alarm the

Elector of Saxony, not to follow up the advantages already obtained;

and therefore, even with the sword in his hand, he continued his

negociations for peace with Brandenburg and Saxony, but with no better

success than before, as the inconsistencies of his conduct had destroyed

all confidence in his sincerity. He was therefore on the point of

turning his whole force in earnest against the unfortunate Saxons, and

effecting his object by force of arms, when circumstances compelled

him to leave these territories. The conquests of Duke Bernard upon the

Danube, which threatened Austria itself with immediate danger, urgently

demanded his presence in Bavaria; and the expulsion of the Saxons and

Swedes from Silesia, deprived him of every pretext for longer resisting

the Imperial orders, and leaving the Elector of Bavaria without

assistance. With his main body, therefore, he immediately set out for

the Upper Palatinate, and his retreat freed Upper Saxony for ever of

this formidable enemy.

So long as was possible, he had delayed to move to the rescue of

Bavaria, and on every pretext evaded the commands of the Emperor. He

had, indeed, after reiterated remonstrances, despatched from Bohemia a

reinforcement of some regiments to Count Altringer, who was defending

the Lech and the Danube against Horn and Bernard, but under the express

condition of his acting merely on the defensive. He referred the Emperor

and the Elector, whenever they applied to him for aid, to Altringer,

who, as he publicly gave out, had received unlimited powers; secretly,

however, he tied up his hands by the strictest injunctions, and even

threatened him with death, if he exceeded his orders. When Duke Bernard

had appeared before Ratisbon, and the Emperor as well as the Elector

repeated still more urgently their demand for succour, he pretended he

was about to despatch General Gallas with a considerable army to the

Danube; but this movement also was delayed, and Ratisbon, Straubing, and

Cham, as well as the bishopric of Eichstaedt, fell into the hands of the

Swedes. When at last he could no longer neglect the orders of the Court,

he marched slowly toward the Bavarian frontier, where he invested the

town of Cham, which had been taken by the Swedes. But no sooner did

he learn that on the Swedish side a diversion was contemplated, by

an inroad of the Saxons into Bohemia, than he availed himself of the

report, as a pretext for immediately retreating into that kingdom.

Every consideration, he urged, must be postponed to the defence and

preservation of the hereditary dominions of the Emperor; and on this

plea, he remained firmly fixed in Bohemia, which he guarded as if it had

been his own property. And when the Emperor laid upon him his commands

to move towards the Danube, and prevent the Duke of Weimar from

establishing himself in so dangerous a position on the frontiers of

Austria, Wallenstein thought proper to conclude the campaign a second

time, and quartered his troops for the winter in this exhausted kingdom.

Such continued insolence and unexampled contempt of the Imperial orders,

as well as obvious neglect of the common cause, joined to his equivocal

behaviour towards the enemy, tended at last to convince the Emperor of

the truth of those unfavourable reports with regard to the Duke, which

were current through Germany. The latter had, for a long time, succeeded

in glozing over his criminal correspondence with the enemy, and

persuading the Emperor, still prepossessed in his favour, that the sole

object of his secret conferences was to obtain peace for Germany. But

impenetrable as he himself believed his proceedings to be, in the course

of his conduct, enough transpired to justify the insinuations with

which his rivals incessantly loaded the ear of the Emperor. In order to

satisfy himself of the truth or falsehood of these rumours, Ferdinand

had already, at different times, sent spies into Wallenstein's camp;

but as the Duke took the precaution never to commit anything to writing,

they returned with nothing but conjectures. But when, at last,

those ministers who formerly had been his champions at the court, in

consequence of their estates not being exempted by Wallenstein from

the general exactions, joined his enemies; when the Elector of Bavaria

threatened, in case of Wallenstein being any longer retained in the

supreme command, to unite with the Swedes; when the Spanish ambassador

insisted on his dismissal, and threatened, in case of refusal, to

withdraw the subsidies furnished by his Crown, the Emperor found himself

a second time compelled to deprive him of the command.

The Emperor's authoritative and direct interference with the army, soon

convinced the Duke that the compact with himself was regarded as at an

end, and that his dismissal was inevitable. One of his inferior generals

in Austria, whom he had forbidden, under pain of death, to obey the

orders of the court, received the positive commands of the Emperor to

join the Elector of Bavaria; and Wallenstein himself was imperiously

ordered to send some regiments to reinforce the army of the Cardinal

Infante, who was on his march from Italy. All these measures convinced

him that the plan was finally arranged to disarm him by degrees, and at

once, when he was weak and defenceless, to complete his ruin.

In self-defence, must he now hasten to carry into execution the plans

which he had originally formed only with the view to aggrandizement. He

had delayed too long, either because the favourable configuration of the

stars had not yet presented itself, or, as he used to say, to check the

impatience of his friends, because THE TIME WAS NOT YET COME. The time,

even now, was not come: but the pressure of circumstances no longer

allowed him to await the favour of the stars. The first step was to

assure himself of the sentiments of his principal officers, and then

to try the attachment of the army, which he had so long confidently

reckoned on. Three of them, Colonels Kinsky, Terzky, and Illo, had

long been in his secrets, and the two first were further united to his

interests by the ties of relationship. The same wild ambition, the same

bitter hatred of the government, and the hope of enormous rewards, bound

them in the closest manner to Wallenstein, who, to increase the number

of his adherents, could stoop to the lowest means. He had once advised

Colonel Illo to solicit, in Vienna, the title of Count, and had promised

to back his application with his powerful mediation. But he secretly

wrote to the ministry, advising them to refuse his request, as to grant

it would give rise to similar demands from others, whose services and

claims were equal to his. On Illo's return to the camp, Wallenstein

immediately demanded to know the success of his mission; and when

informed by Illo of its failure, he broke out into the bitterest

complaints against the court. "Thus," said he, "are our faithful

services rewarded. My recommendation is disregarded, and your merit

denied so trifling a reward! Who would any longer devote his services to

so ungrateful a master? No, for my part, I am henceforth the determined

foe of Austria." Illo agreed with him, and a close alliance was cemented

between them.

But what was known to these three confidants of the duke, was long

an impenetrable secret to the rest; and the confidence with which

Wallenstein spoke of the devotion of his officers, was founded merely on

the favours he had lavished on them, and on their known dissatisfaction

with the Court. But this vague presumption must be converted into

certainty, before he could venture to lay aside the mask, or take any

open step against the Emperor. Count Piccolomini, who had distinguished

himself by his unparalleled bravery at Lutzen, was the first whose

fidelity he put to the proof. He had, he thought, gained the attachment

of this general by large presents, and preferred him to all others,

because born under the same constellations with himself. He disclosed

to him, that, in consequence of the Emperor's ingratitude, and the near

approach of his own danger, he had irrevocably determined entirely to

abandon the party of Austria, to join the enemy with the best part of

his army, and to make war upon the House of Austria, on all sides of its

dominions, till he had wholly extirpated it. In the execution of this

plan, he principally reckoned on the services of Piccolomini, and

had beforehand promised him the greatest rewards. When the latter, to

conceal his amazement at this extraordinary communication, spoke of the

dangers and obstacles which would oppose so hazardous an enterprise,

Wallenstein ridiculed his fears. "In such enterprises," he maintained,

"nothing was difficult but the commencement. The stars were propitious

to him, the opportunity the best that could be wished for, and something

must always be trusted to fortune. His resolution was taken, and if it

could not be otherwise, he would encounter the hazard at the head of

a thousand horse." Piccolomini was careful not to excite Wallenstein's

suspicions by longer opposition, and yielded apparently to the force

of his reasoning. Such was the infatuation of the Duke, that

notwithstanding the warnings of Count Terzky, he never doubted the

sincerity of this man, who lost not a moment in communicating to the

court at Vienna this important conversation.

Preparatory to taking the last decisive step, he, in January 1634,

called a meeting of all the commanders of the army at Pilsen, whither he

had marched after his retreat from Bavaria. The Emperor's recent orders

to spare his hereditary dominions from winter quarterings, to recover

Ratisbon in the middle of winter, and to reduce the army by a detachment

of six thousand horse to the Cardinal Infante, were matters sufficiently

grave to be laid before a council of war; and this plausible pretext

served to conceal from the curious the real object of the meeting.

Sweden and Saxony received invitations to be present, in order to treat

with the Duke of Friedland for a peace; to the leaders of more distant

armies, written communications were made. Of the commanders thus

summoned, twenty appeared; but three most influential, Gallas,

Colloredo, and Altringer, were absent. The Duke reiterated his summons

to them, and in the mean time, in expectation of their speedy arrival,

proceeded to execute his designs.

It was no light task that he had to perform: a nobleman, proud, brave,

and jealous of his honour, was to declare himself capable of the basest

treachery, in the very presence of those who had been accustomed to

regard him as the representative of majesty, the judge of their actions,

and the supporter of their laws, and to show himself suddenly as a

traitor, a cheat, and a rebel. It was no easy task, either, to shake

to its foundations a legitimate sovereignty, strengthened by time and

consecrated by laws and religion; to dissolve all the charms of the

senses and the imagination, those formidable guardians of an established

throne, and to attempt forcibly to uproot those invincible feelings

of duty, which plead so loudly and so powerfully in the breast of the

subject, in favour of his sovereign. But, blinded by the splendour of

a crown, Wallenstein observed not the precipice that yawned beneath his

feet; and in full reliance on his own strength, the common case with

energetic and daring minds, he stopped not to consider the magnitude and

the number of the difficulties that opposed him. Wallenstein saw nothing

but an army, partly indifferent and partly exasperated against the

court, accustomed, with a blind submission, to do homage to his great

name, to bow to him as their legislator and judge, and with trembling

reverence to follow his orders as the decrees of fate. In the

extravagant flatteries which were paid to his omnipotence, in the bold

abuse of the court government, in which a lawless soldiery indulged,

and which the wild licence of the camp excused, he thought he read the

sentiments of the army; and the boldness with which they were ready

to censure the monarch's measures, passed with him for a readiness to

renounce their allegiance to a sovereign so little respected. But that

which he had regarded as the lightest matter, proved the most formidable

obstacle with which he had to contend; the soldiers' feelings of

allegiance were the rock on which his hopes were wrecked. Deceived by

the profound respect in which he was held by these lawless bands, he

ascribed the whole to his own personal greatness, without distinguishing

how much he owed to himself, and how much to the dignity with which he

was invested. All trembled before him, while he exercised a legitimate

authority, while obedience to him was a duty, and while his consequence

was supported by the majesty of the sovereign. Greatness, in and of

itself, may excite terror and admiration; but legitimate greatness alone

can inspire reverence and submission; and of this decisive advantage he

deprived himself, the instant he avowed himself a traitor.

Field-Marshal Illo undertook to learn the sentiments of the officers,

and to prepare them for the step which was expected of them. He began

by laying before them the new orders of the court to the general and the

army; and by the obnoxious turn he skilfully gave to them, he found it

easy to excite the indignation of the assembly. After this well chosen

introduction, he expatiated with much eloquence upon the merits of the

army and the general, and the ingratitude with which the Emperor

was accustomed to requite them. "Spanish influence," he maintained,

"governed the court; the ministry were in the pay of Spain; the Duke of

Friedland alone had hitherto opposed this tyranny, and had thus drawn

down upon himself the deadly enmity of the Spaniards. To remove him from

the command, or to make away with him entirely," he continued, "had long

been the end of their desires; and, until they could succeed in one or

other, they endeavoured to abridge his power in the field. The command

was to be placed in the hands of the King of Hungary, for no other

reason than the better to promote the Spanish power in Germany; because

this prince, as the ready instrument of foreign counsels, might be led

at pleasure. It was merely with the view of weakening the army, that

the six thousand troops were required for the Cardinal Infante; it was

solely for the purpose of harassing it by a winter campaign, that

they were now called on, in this inhospitable season, to undertake the

recovery of Ratisbon. The means of subsistence were everywhere rendered

difficult, while the Jesuits and the ministry enriched themselves with

the sweat of the provinces, and squandered the money intended for the

pay of the troops. The general, abandoned by the court, acknowledges

his inability to keep his engagements to the army. For all the services

which, for two and twenty years, he had rendered the House of Austria;

for all the difficulties with which he had struggled; for all the

treasures of his own, which he had expended in the imperial service, a

second disgraceful dismissal awaited him. But he was resolved the matter

should not come to this; he was determined voluntarily to resign

the command, before it should be wrested from his hands; and this,"

continued the orator, "is what, through me, he now makes known to his

officers. It was now for them to say whether it would be advisable to

lose such a general. Let each consider who was to refund him the sums he

had expended in the Emperor's service, and where he was now to reap the

reward of their bravery, when he who was their evidence removed from the

scene."

A universal cry, that they would not allow their general to be taken

from them, interrupted the speaker. Four of the principal officers were

deputed to lay before him the wish of the assembly, and earnestly

to request that he would not leave the army. The duke made a show

of resistance, and only yielded after the second deputation. This

concession on his side, seemed to demand a return on theirs; as he

engaged not to quit the service without the knowledge and consent of the

generals, he required of them, on the other hand, a written promise

to truly and firmly adhere to him, neither to separate nor to allow

themselves to be separated from him, and to shed their last drop of

blood in his defence. Whoever should break this covenant, was to be

regarded as a perfidious traitor, and treated by the rest as a common

enemy. The express condition which was added, "AS LONG AS WALLENSTEIN

SHALL EMPLOY THE ARMY IN THE EMPEROR'S SERVICE," seemed to exclude all

misconception, and none of the assembled generals hesitated at once to

accede to a demand, apparently so innocent and so reasonable.

This document was publicly read before an entertainment, which

Field-Marshal Illo had expressly prepared for the purpose; it was to be

signed, after they rose from table. The host did his utmost to stupify

his guests by strong potations; and it was not until he saw them

affected with the wine, that he produced the paper for signature. Most

of them wrote their names, without knowing what they were subscribing;

a few only, more curious or more distrustful, read the paper over again,

and discovered with astonishment that the clause "as long as Wallenstein

shall employ the army for the Emperor's service" was omitted. Illo had,

in fact, artfully contrived to substitute for the first another copy, in

which these words were wanting. The trick was manifest, and many refused

now to sign. Piccolomini, who had seen through the whole cheat, and had

been present at this scene merely with the view of giving information

of the whole to the court, forgot himself so far in his cups as to drink

the Emperor's health. But Count Terzky now rose, and declared that all

were perjured villains who should recede from their engagement. His

menaces, the idea of the inevitable danger to which they who resisted

any longer would be exposed, the example of the rest, and Illo's

rhetoric, at last overcame their scruples; and the paper was signed by

all without exception.

Wallenstein had now effected his purpose; but the unexpected resistance

he had met with from the commanders roused him at last from the fond

illusions in which he had hitherto indulged. Besides, most of the names

were scrawled so illegibly, that some deceit was evidently intended.

But instead of being recalled to his discretion by this warning, he gave

vent to his injured pride in undignified complaints and reproaches. He

assembled the generals the next day, and undertook personally to confirm

the whole tenor of the agreement which Illo had submitted to them the

day before. After pouring out the bitterest reproaches and abuse against

the court, he reminded them of their opposition to the proposition of

the previous day, and declared that this circumstance had induced him to

retract his own promise. The generals withdrew in silence and confusion;

but after a short consultation in the antichamber, they returned to

apologize for their late conduct, and offered to sign the paper anew.

Nothing now remained, but to obtain a similar assurance from the absent

generals, or, on their refusal, to seize their persons. Wallenstein

renewed his invitation to them, and earnestly urged them to hasten their

arrival. But a rumour of the doings at Pilsen reached them on their

journey, and suddenly stopped their further progress. Altringer, on

pretence of sickness, remained in the strong fortress of Frauenberg.

Gallas made his appearance, but merely with the design of better

qualifying himself as an eyewitness, to keep the Emperor informed of

all Wallenstein's proceedings. The intelligence which he and Piccolomini

gave, at once converted the suspicions of the court into an alarming

certainty. Similar disclosures, which were at the same time made from

other quarters, left no room for farther doubt; and the sudden change

of the commanders in Austria and Silesia, appeared to be the prelude to

some important enterprise. The danger was pressing, and the remedy

must be speedy, but the court was unwilling to proceed at once to

the execution of the sentence, till the regular forms of justice

were complied with. Secret instructions were therefore issued to the

principal officers, on whose fidelity reliance could be placed, to seize

the persons of the Duke of Friedland and of his two associates, Illo

and Terzky, and keep them in close confinement, till they should have an

opportunity of being heard, and of answering for their conduct; but if

this could not be accomplished quietly, the public danger required that

they should be taken dead or live. At the same time, General Gallas

received a patent commission, by which these orders of the Emperor were

made known to the colonels and officers, and the army was released

from its obedience to the traitor, and placed under Lieutenant-General

Gallas, till a new generalissimo could be appointed. In order to bring

back the seduced and deluded to their duty, and not to drive the guilty

to despair, a general amnesty was proclaimed, in regard to all offences

against the imperial majesty committed at Pilsen.

General Gallas was not pleased with the honour which was done him. He

was at Pilsen, under the eye of the person whose fate he was to dispose

of; in the power of an enemy, who had a hundred eyes to watch his

motions. If Wallenstein once discovered the secret of his commission,

nothing could save him from the effects of his vengeance and despair.

But if it was thus dangerous to be the secret depositary of such a

commission, how much more so to execute it? The sentiments of the

generals were uncertain; and it was at least doubtful whether, after

the step they had taken, they would be ready to trust the Emperor's

promises, and at once to abandon the brilliant expectations they had

built upon Wallenstein's enterprise. It was also hazardous to attempt

to lay hands on the person of a man who, till now, had been considered

inviolable; who from long exercise of supreme power, and from habitual

obedience, had become the object of deepest respect; who was invested

with every attribute of outward majesty and inward greatness; whose very

aspect inspired terror, and who by a nod disposed of life and death! To

seize such a man, like a common criminal, in the midst of the guards

by whom he was surrounded, and in a city apparently devoted to him; to

convert the object of this deep and habitual veneration into a subject

of compassion, or of contempt, was a commission calculated to make

even the boldest hesitate. So deeply was fear and veneration for their

general engraven in the breasts of the soldiers, that even the atrocious

crime of high treason could not wholly eradicate these sentiments.

Gallas perceived the impossibility of executing his commission under the

eyes of the duke; and his most anxious wish was, before venturing on any

steps, to have an interview with Altringer. As the long absence of the

latter had already begun to excite the duke's suspicions, Gallas offered

to repair in person to Frauenberg, and to prevail on Altringer, his

relation, to return with him. Wallenstein was so pleased with this proof

of his zeal, that he even lent him his own equipage for the journey.

Rejoicing at the success of his stratagem, he left Pilsen without delay,

leaving to Count Piccolomini the task of watching Wallenstein's further

movements. He did not fail, as he went along, to make use of the

imperial patent, and the sentiments of the troops proved more favourable

than he had expected. Instead of taking back his friend to Pilsen,

he despatched him to Vienna, to warn the Emperor against the intended

attack, while he himself repaired to Upper Austria, of which the safety

was threatened by the near approach of Duke Bernard. In Bohemia, the

towns of Budweiss and Tabor were again garrisoned for the Emperor, and

every precaution taken to oppose with energy the designs of the traitor.

As Gallas did not appear disposed to return, Piccolomini determined to

put Wallenstein's credulity once more to the test. He begged to be sent

to bring back Gallas, and Wallenstein suffered himself a second time to

be overreached. This inconceivable blindness can only be accounted for

as the result of his pride, which never retracted the opinion it had

once formed of any person, and would not acknowledge, even to itself,

the possibility of being deceived. He conveyed Count Piccolomini in his

own carriage to Lintz, where the latter immediately followed the example

of Gallas, and even went a step farther. He had promised the duke to

return. He did so, but it was at the head of an army, intending to

surprise the duke in Pilsen. Another army under General Suys hastened

to Prague, to secure that capital in its allegiance, and to defend it

against the rebels. Gallas, at the same time, announced himself to the

different imperial armies as the commander-in-chief, from whom they were

henceforth to receive orders. Placards were circulated through all

the imperial camps, denouncing the duke and his four confidants, and

absolving the soldiers from all obedience to him.

The example which had been set at Lintz, was universally followed;

imprecations were showered on the traitor, and he was forsaken by all

the armies. At last, when even Piccolomini returned no more, the mist

fell from Wallenstein's eyes, and in consternation he awoke from his

dream. Yet his faith in the truth of astrology, and in the fidelity

of the army was unshaken. Immediately after the intelligence of

Piccolomini's defection, he issued orders, that in future no commands

were to be obeyed, which did not proceed directly from himself, or from

Terzky, or Illo. He prepared, in all haste, to advance upon Prague,

where he intended to throw off the mask, and openly to declare against

the Emperor. All the troops were to assemble before that city, and from

thence to pour down with rapidity upon Austria. Duke Bernard, who had

joined the conspiracy, was to support the operations of the duke, with

the Swedish troops, and to effect a diversion upon the Danube.

Terzky was already upon his march towards Prague; and nothing, but the

want of horses, prevented the duke from following him with the regiments

who still adhered faithfully to him. But when, with the most anxious

expectation, he awaited the intelligence from Prague, he suddenly

received information of the loss of that town, the defection of his

generals, the desertion of his troops, the discovery of his whole plot,

and the rapid advance of Piccolomini, who was sworn to his destruction.

Suddenly and fearfully had all his projects been ruined -- all his hopes

annihilated. He stood alone, abandoned by all to whom he had been a

benefactor, betrayed by all on whom he had depended. But it is under

such circumstances that great minds reveal themselves. Though deceived

in all his expectations, he refused to abandon one of his designs; he

despaired of nothing, so long as life remained. The time was now come,

when he absolutely required that assistance, which he had so often

solicited from the Swedes and the Saxons, and when all doubts of the

sincerity of his purposes must be dispelled. And now, when Oxenstiern

and Arnheim were convinced of the sincerity of his intentions, and

were aware of his necessities, they no longer hesitated to embrace the

favourable opportunity, and to offer him their protection. On the part

of Saxony, the Duke Francis Albert of Saxe Lauenberg was to join

him with 4,000 men; and Duke Bernard, and the Palatine Christian of

Birkenfeld, with 6,000 from Sweden, all chosen troops.

Wallenstein left Pilsen, with Terzky's regiment, and the few who either

were, or pretended to be, faithful to him, and hastened to Egra, on the

frontiers of the kingdom, in order to be near the Upper Palatinate, and

to facilitate his junction with Duke Bernard. He was not yet informed of

the decree by which he was proclaimed a public enemy and traitor; this

thunder-stroke awaited him at Egra. He still reckoned on the army, which

General Schafgotsch was preparing for him in Silesia, and flattered

himself with the hope that many even of those who had forsaken him,

would return with the first dawning of success. Even during his flight

to Egra (so little humility had he learned from melancholy experience)

he was still occupied with the colossal scheme of dethroning the

Emperor. It was under these circumstances, that one of his suite asked

leave to offer him his advice. "Under the Emperor," said he, "your

highness is certain of being a great and respected noble; with the

enemy, you are at best but a precarious king. It is unwise to risk

certainty for uncertainty. The enemy will avail themselves of your

personal influence, while the opportunity lasts; but you will ever be

regarded with suspicion, and they will always be fearful lest you

should treat them as you have done the Emperor. Return, then, to your

allegiance, while there is yet time. -- "And how is that to be done?"

said Wallenstein, interrupting him: "You have 40,000 men-at-arms,"

rejoined he, (meaning ducats, which were stamped with the figure of an

armed man,) "take them with you, and go straight to the Imperial Court;

then declare that the steps you have hitherto taken were merely designed

to test the fidelity of the Emperor's servants, and of distinguishing

the loyal from the doubtful; and since most have shown a disposition

to revolt, say you are come to warn his Imperial Majesty against those

dangerous men. Thus you will make those appear as traitors, who are

labouring to represent you as a false villain. At the Imperial Court,

a man is sure to be welcome with 40,000 ducats, and Friedland will

be again as he was at the first." -- "The advice is good," said

Wallenstein, after a pause, "but let the devil trust to it."

While the duke, in his retirement in Egra, was energetically pushing his

negociations with the enemy, consulting the stars, and indulging in

new hopes, the dagger which was to put an end to his existence was

unsheathed almost under his very eyes. The imperial decree which

proclaimed him an outlaw, had not failed of its effect; and an avenging

Nemesis ordained that the ungrateful should fall beneath the blow

of ingratitude. Among his officers, Wallenstein had particularly

distinguished one Leslie*, an Irishman, and had made his fortune. This

was the man who now felt himself called on to execute the sentence

against him, and to earn the price of blood. No sooner had he reached

Egra, in the suite of the duke, than he disclosed to the commandant

of the town, Colonel Buttler, and to Lieutenant-Colonel Gordon, two

Protestant Scotchmen, the treasonable designs of the duke, which the

latter had imprudently enough communicated to him during the journey.

In these two individuals, he had found men capable of a determined

resolution. They were now called on to choose between treason and duty,

between their legitimate sovereign and a fugitive abandoned rebel; and

though the latter was their common benefactor, the choice could

not remain for a moment doubtful. They were solemnly pledged to the

allegiance of the Emperor, and this duty required them to take the most

rapid measures against the public enemy. The opportunity was favourable;

his evil genius seemed to have delivered him into the hands of

vengeance. But not to encroach on the province of justice, they resolved

to deliver up their victim alive; and they parted with the bold resolve

to take their general prisoner. This dark plot was buried in the deepest

silence; and Wallenstein, far from suspecting his impending ruin,

flattered himself that in the garrison of Egra he possessed his bravest

and most faithful champions.

-- * Schiller is mistaken as to this point. Leslie was a Scotchman, and

Buttler an Irishman and a papist. He died a general in the Emperor's

service, and founded, at Prague, a convent of Irish Franciscans which

still exists. --

At this time, he became acquainted with the Imperial proclamations

containing his sentence, and which had been published in all the camps.

He now became aware of the full extent of the danger which encompassed

him, the utter impossibility of retracing his steps, his fearfully

forlorn condition, and the absolute necessity of at once trusting

himself to the faith and honour of the Emperor's enemies. To Leslie he

poured forth all the anguish of his wounded spirit, and the vehemence of

his agitation extracted from him his last remaining secret. He disclosed

to this officer his intention to deliver up Egra and Ellenbogen, the

passes of the kingdom, to the Palatine of Birkenfeld, and at the same

time, informed him of the near approach of Duke Bernard, of whose

arrival he hoped to receive tidings that very night. These disclosures,

which Leslie immediately communicated to the conspirators, made them

change their original plan. The urgency of the danger admitted not of

half measures. Egra might in a moment be in the enemy's hands, and a

sudden revolution set their prisoner at liberty. To anticipate this

mischance, they resolved to assassinate him and his associates the

following night.

In order to execute this design with less noise, it was arranged that

the fearful deed should be perpetrated at an entertainment which Colonel

Buttler should give in the Castle of Egra. All the guests, except

Wallenstein, made their appearance, who being in too great anxiety of

mind to enjoy company excused himself. With regard to him, therefore,

their plan must be again changed; but they resolved to execute their

design against the others. The three Colonels, Illo, Terzky, and William

Kinsky, came in with careless confidence, and with them Captain Neumann,

an officer of ability, whose advice Terzky sought in every intricate

affair. Previous to their arrival, trusty soldiers of the garrison, to

whom the plot had been communicated, were admitted into the Castle,

all the avenues leading from it guarded, and six of Buttler's dragoons

concealed in an apartment close to the banqueting-room, who, on a

concerted signal, were to rush in and kill the traitors. Without

suspecting the danger that hung over them, the guests gaily abandoned

themselves to the pleasures of the table, and Wallenstein's health

was drunk in full bumpers, not as a servant of the Emperor, but as

a sovereign prince. The wine opened their hearts, and Illo, with

exultation, boasted that in three days an army would arrive, such as

Wallenstein had never before been at the head of. "Yes," cried Neumann,

"and then he hopes to bathe his hands in Austrian blood." During this

conversation, the dessert was brought in, and Leslie gave the concerted

signal to raise the drawbridges, while he himself received the keys of

the gates. In an instant, the hall was filled with armed men, who, with

the unexpected greeting of "Long live Ferdinand!" placed themselves

behind the chairs of the marked guests. Surprised, and with a

presentiment of their fate, they sprang from the table. Kinsky and

Terzky were killed upon the spot, and before they could put themselves

upon their guard. Neumann, during the confusion in the hall, escaped

into the court, where, however, he was instantly recognised and cut

down. Illo alone had the presence of mind to defend himself. He

placed his back against a window, from whence he poured the bitterest

reproaches upon Gordon, and challenged him to fight him fairly and

honourably. After a gallant resistance, in which he slew two of his

assailants, he fell to the ground overpowered by numbers, and pierced

with ten wounds. The deed was no sooner accomplished, than Leslie

hastened into the town to prevent a tumult. The sentinels at the castle

gate, seeing him running and out of breath, and believing he belonged

to the rebels, fired their muskets after him, but without effect. The

firing, however, aroused the town-guard, and all Leslie's presence of

mind was requisite to allay the tumult. He hastily detailed to them all

the circumstances of Wallenstein's conspiracy, the measures which had

been already taken to counteract it, the fate of the four rebels,

as well as that which awaited their chief. Finding the troops well

disposed, he exacted from them a new oath of fidelity to the Emperor,

and to live and die for the good cause. A hundred of Buttler's dragoons

were sent from the Castle into the town to patrol the streets, to

overawe the partisans of the Duke, and to prevent tumult. All the gates

of Egra were at the same time seized, and every avenue to Wallenstein's

residence, which adjoined the market-place, guarded by a numerous and

trusty body of troops, sufficient to prevent either his escape or his

receiving any assistance from without.

But before they proceeded finally to execute the deed, a long conference

was held among the conspirators in the Castle, whether they should kill

him, or content themselves with making him prisoner. Besprinkled as they

were with the blood, and deliberating almost over the very corpses of

his murdered associates, even these furious men yet shuddered at the

horror of taking away so illustrious a life. They saw before their

mind's eye him their leader in battle, in the days of his good fortune,

surrounded by his victorious army, clothed with all the pomp of military

greatness, and long-accustomed awe again seized their minds. But this

transitory emotion was soon effaced by the thought of the immediate

danger. They remembered the hints which Neumann and Illo had thrown out

at table, the near approach of a formidable army of Swedes and Saxons,

and they clearly saw that the death of the traitor was their only chance

of safety. They adhered, therefore, to their first resolution, and

Captain Deveroux, an Irishman, who had already been retained for the

murderous purpose, received decisive orders to act.

While these three officers were thus deciding upon his fate in the

castle of Egra, Wallenstein was occupied in reading the stars with Seni.

"The danger is not yet over," said the astrologer with prophetic spirit.

"IT IS," replied the Duke, who would give the law even to heaven. "But,"

he continued with equally prophetic spirit, "that thou friend Seni

thyself shall soon be thrown into prison, that also is written in the

stars." The astrologer had taken his leave, and Wallenstein had retired

to bed, when Captain Deveroux appeared before his residence with

six halberdiers, and was immediately admitted by the guard, who were

accustomed to see him visit the general at all hours. A page who met him

upon the stairs, and attempted to raise an alarm, was run through the

body with a pike. In the antichamber, the assassins met a servant, who

had just come out of the sleeping-room of his master, and had taken with

him the key. Putting his finger upon his mouth, the terrified domestic

made a sign to them to make no noise, as the Duke was asleep. "Friend,"

cried Deveroux, "it is time to awake him;" and with these words he

rushed against the door, which was also bolted from within, and burst it

open.

Wallenstein had been roused from his first sleep, by the report of a

musket which had accidentally gone off, and had sprung to the window

to call the guard. At the same moment, he heard, from the adjoining

building, the shrieks of the Countesses Terzky and Kinsky, who had just

learnt the violent fate of their husbands. Ere he had time to reflect

on these terrible events, Deveroux, with the other murderers, was in

his chamber. The Duke was in his shirt, as he had leaped out of bed,

and leaning on a table near the window. "Art thou the villain," cried

Deveroux to him, "who intends to deliver up the Emperor's troops to the

enemy, and to tear the crown from the head of his Majesty? Now thou must

die!" He paused for a few moments, as if expecting an answer; but scorn

and astonishment kept Wallenstein silent. Throwing his arms wide open,

he received in his breast, the deadly blow of the halberds, and without

uttering a groan, fell weltering in his blood.

The next day, an express arrived from the Duke of Lauenburg, announcing

his approach. The messenger was secured, and another in Wallenstein's

livery despatched to the Duke, to decoy him into Egra. The stratagem

succeeded, and Francis Albert fell into the hands of the enemy. Duke

Bernard of Weimar, who was on his march towards Egra, was nearly sharing

the same fate. Fortunately, he heard of Wallenstein's death in time to

save himself by a retreat. Ferdinand shed a tear over the fate of his

general, and ordered three thousand masses to be said for his soul at

Vienna; but, at the same time, he did not forget to reward his assassins

with gold chains, chamberlains' keys, dignities, and estates.

Thus did Wallenstein, at the age of fifty, terminate his active and

extraordinary life. To ambition, he owed both his greatness and his

ruin; with all his failings, he possessed great and admirable qualities,

and had he kept himself within due bounds, he would have lived and died

without an equal. The virtues of the ruler and of the hero, prudence,

justice, firmness, and courage, are strikingly prominent features in his

character; but he wanted the gentler virtues of the man, which adorn the

hero, and make the ruler beloved. Terror was the talisman with which

he worked; extreme in his punishments as in his rewards, he knew how

to keep alive the zeal of his followers, while no general of ancient or

modern times could boast of being obeyed with equal alacrity. Submission

to his will was more prized by him than bravery; for, if the soldiers

work by the latter, it is on the former that the general depends. He

continually kept up the obedience of his troops by capricious orders,

and profusely rewarded the readiness to obey even in trifles; because

he looked rather to the act itself, than its object. He once issued a

decree, with the penalty of death on disobedience, that none but red

sashes should be worn in the army. A captain of horse no sooner heard

the order, than pulling off his gold-embroidered sash, he trampled it

under foot; Wallenstein, on being informed of the circumstance, promoted

him on the spot to the rank of Colonel. His comprehensive glance was

always directed to the whole, and in all his apparent caprice, he

steadily kept in view some general scope or bearing. The robberies

committed by the soldiers in a friendly country, had led to the severest

orders against marauders; and all who should be caught thieving, were

threatened with the halter. Wallenstein himself having met a straggler

in the open country upon the field, commanded him to be seized without

trial, as a transgressor of the law, and in his usual voice of thunder,

exclaimed, "Hang the fellow," against which no opposition ever availed.

The soldier pleaded and proved his innocence, but the irrevocable

sentence had gone forth. "Hang then innocent," cried the inexorable

Wallenstein, "the guilty will have then more reason to tremble."

Preparations were already making to execute the sentence, when the

soldier, who gave himself up for lost, formed the desperate resolution

of not dying without revenge. He fell furiously upon his judge, but was

overpowered by numbers, and disarmed before he could fulfil his design.

"Now let him go," said the Duke, "it will excite sufficient terror."

His munificence was supported by an immense income, which was estimated

at three millions of florins yearly, without reckoning the enormous

sums which he raised under the name of contributions. His liberality and

clearness of understanding, raised him above the religious prejudices of

his age; and the Jesuits never forgave him for having seen through their

system, and for regarding the pope as nothing more than a bishop of

Rome.

But as no one ever yet came to a fortunate end who quarrelled with the

Church, Wallenstein also must augment the number of its victims. Through

the intrigues of monks, he lost at Ratisbon the command of the army, and

at Egra his life; by the same arts, perhaps, he lost what was of more

consequence, his honourable name and good repute with posterity.

For in justice it must be admitted, that the pens which have traced the

history of this extraordinary man are not untinged with partiality,

and that the treachery of the duke, and his designs upon the throne

of Bohemia, rest not so much upon proven facts, as upon probable

conjecture. No documents have yet been brought to light, which disclose

with historical certainty the secret motives of his conduct; and among

all his public and well attested actions, there is, perhaps, not one

which could not have had an innocent end. Many of his most obnoxious

measures proved nothing but the earnest wish he entertained for peace;

most of the others are explained and justified by the well-founded

distrust he entertained of the Emperor, and the excusable wish of

maintaining his own importance. It is true, that his conduct towards the

Elector of Bavaria looks too like an unworthy revenge, and the dictates

of an implacable spirit; but still, none of his actions perhaps warrant

us in holding his treason to be proved. If necessity and despair at last

forced him to deserve the sentence which had been pronounced against

him while innocent, still this, if true, will not justify that sentence.

Thus Wallenstein fell, not because he was a rebel, but he became a rebel

because he fell. Unfortunate in life that he made a victorious party his

enemy, and still more unfortunate in death, that the same party survived

him and wrote his history.