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The resolution which Ferdinand now
adopted, gave to the war a new direction, a new scene, and new actors. From a
rebellion in Bohemia, and the chastisement of rebels, a war
extended first to Germany, and afterwards to Europe. It is,
therefore, necessary to take a general survey of the state of affairs
both in Germany and the rest of Europe.
Unequally as the territory of Germany
and the privileges of its members were divided among the Roman Catholics
and the Protestants, neither party could hope to maintain
itself against the encroachments of its adversary otherwise than by a
prudent use of its peculiar advantages, and by a politic union among
themselves. If the Roman Catholics were the more numerous party, and more
favoured by the constitution of the empire, the Protestants, on the other hand, had
the advantage of possessing a more compact and populous line of
territories, valiant princes, a warlike nobility, numerous armies,
flourishing free towns, the command of the sea, and even at the
worst, certainty of support from Roman Catholic states. If the
Catholics could arm Spain and Italy in their favour, the republics of
Venice, Holland, and England, opened their treasures to the
Protestants, while the states of the North and the formidable power of Turkey,
stood ready to afford them prompt assistance. Brandenburg, Saxony,
and the Palatinate, opposed three Protestant to three
Ecclesiastical votes in the Electoral College; while to the
Elector of Bohemia, as to the Archduke of Austria, the
possession of the Imperial dignity was an important check, if the
Protestants properly availed themselves of it. The sword of the Union might keep within
its sheath the sword of the League; or if matters actually came to a war,
might make the issue of it doubtful. But, unfortunately, private interests
dissolved the band of union which should have held together the
Protestant members of the empire. This critical conjuncture found none but
second-rate actors on the political stage, and the decisive
moment was neglected because the courageous were deficient in power,
and the powerful in sagacity, courage, and resolution.
The Elector of Saxony was placed at the
head of the German Protestants, by the services of his ancestor Maurice,
by the extent of his territories, and by the influence of his electoral
vote. Upon the resolution he might adopt, the fate of the
contending parties seemed to depend;
and John George was not insensible to
the advantages which this important situation procured him.
Equally valuable as an ally, both to the Emperor and to the
Protestant Union, he cautiously avoided committing himself to either party;
neither trusting himself by any irrevocable declaration entirely
to the gratitude of the Emperor, nor renouncing the advantages which were
to be gained from his fears. Uninfected by the contagion of religious
and romantic enthusiasm which hurried sovereign after sovereign
to risk both crown and life on the hazard of war, John George
aspired to the more solid renown of improving and advancing the interests
of his territories. His cotemporaries accused him of
forsaking the Protestant cause in the very midst of the storm; of
preferring the aggrandizement of his house to the emancipation of his country; of
exposing the whole Evangelical or Lutheran church of Germany to ruin,
rather than raise an arm in defence of the Reformed or Calvinists; of
injuring the common cause by his suspicious friendship more
seriously than the open enmity of its avowed opponents. But it would
have been well if his accusers had imitated the wise policy of the
Elector. If, despite of the prudent policy, the Saxons, like all others, groaned at
the cruelties which marked the Emperor's progress; if
all Germany was a witness how Ferdinand deceived his confederates
and trifled with his engagements; if even the Elector himself at last
perceived this -- the more shame to the Emperor who could so basely
betray such implicit confidence.
If an excessive reliance on the Emperor,
and the hope of enlarging his territories, tied the hands of the
Elector of Saxony, the weak George William, Elector of
Brandenburg, was still more shamefully fettered by fear of Austria, and of the
loss of his dominions. What was made a reproach against these
princes would have preserved to the Elector Palatine his fame and his
kingdom. A rash confidence in his untried strength, the influence
of French counsels, and the temptation of a crown, had
seduced that unfortunate prince into an enterprise for which he had neither
adequate genius nor political capacity. The partition of his territories among
discordant princes, enfeebled the Palatinate, which, united,
might have made a longer resistance.
This partition of territory was equally
injurious to the House of Hesse, in which, between Darmstadt and Cassel,
religious dissensions had occasioned a fatal division. The
line of Darmstadt, adhering to the Confession of Augsburg, had placed
itself under the Emperor's protection, who favoured it at the expense of the
Calvinists of Cassel. While his religious confederates were
shedding their blood for their faith and their liberties, the
Landgrave of Darmstadt was won over by the Emperor's gold. But
William of Cassel, every way worthy of his ancestor who, a
century before,
had defended the freedom of Germany
against the formidable Charles V., espoused the cause of danger and of
honour. Superior to that pusillanimity which made far more powerful princes bow
before Ferdinand's might, the Landgrave William was the first to
join the hero of Sweden, and to set an example to the princes of
Germany which all had hesitated to begin. The boldness of his resolve
was equalled by the steadfastness of his perseverance and the valour of
his exploits. He placed himself with unshrinking resolution before his
bleeding country, and boldly confronted the fearful enemy,
whose hands were still reeking from the carnage of Magdeburg.
The Landgrave William deserves to
descend to immortality with the heroic race of Ernest. Thy day
of vengeance was long delayed, unfortunate John Frederick! Noble!
never-to-be-forgotten prince! Slowly but brightly it broke. Thy times
returned, and thy heroic spirit descended on thy grandson. An intrepid
race of princes issues from the Thuringian forests, to shame, by
immortal deeds, the unjust sentence which robbed thee of the electoral crown
-- to avenge thy offended shade by heaps of bloody sacrifice. The
sentence of the conqueror could deprive thee of thy territories,
but not that spirit of patriotism which staked them, nor that chivalrous
courage which, a century afterwards, was destined to shake the throne of his
descendant. Thy vengeance and that of Germany
whetted the sacred sword, and one heroic hand after the other
wielded the irresistible steel. As men, they achieved what as sovereigns
they dared not undertake; they met in a glorious cause as the
valiant soldiers of liberty. Too weak in territory to attack the
enemy with their own forces, they directed foreign artillery against
them, and led foreign banners to victory.
The liberties of Germany, abandoned by
the more powerful states, who, however, enjoyed most of the
prosperity accruing from them, were defended by a few princes for whom
they were almost without value. The possession of territories and
dignities deadened courage; the want of both made heroes. While
Saxony, Brandenburg, and the rest drew back in terror, Anhalt, Mansfeld,
the Prince of Weimar and others were shedding their blood in the field.
The Dukes of Pomerania, Mecklenburg, Luneburg, and Wirtemberg,
and the free cities of Upper Germany, to whom the name of EMPEROR was of
course a formidable one, anxiously avoided a contest with such an
opponent, and crouched murmuring beneath his mighty arm.
Austria and Roman Catholic Germany
possessed in Maximilian of Bavaria a champion as prudent as he was
powerful. Adhering throughout the war to one fixed plan, never divided between
his religion
and his political interests; not the
slavish dependent of Austria, who was labouring for HIS advancement,
and trembled before her powerful protector, Maximilian
earned the territories and dignities that rewarded his exertions. The other
Roman Catholic states, which were chiefly Ecclesiastical, too
unwarlike to resist the multitudes whom the prosperity of
their territories allured, became the victims of the war one after
another, and were contented to persecute in the cabinet and in the
pulpit, the enemy whom they could not openly oppose in the
field. All of them, slaves either to Austria or Bavaria,
sunk into insignificance by the side of Maximilian; in his hand
alone their united power could be rendered available.
The formidable monarchy which Charles V.
and his son had unnaturally constructed of the
Netherlands, Milan, and the two Sicilies, and their distant possessions in the
East and West Indies, was under Philip III. and Philip IV.
fast verging to decay. Swollen to a sudden greatness by
unfruitful gold, this power was now sinking under a visible decline, neglecting, as
it did, agriculture, the natural support of states. The
conquests in the West Indies had reduced Spain itself to poverty,
while they enriched the markets of Europe; the bankers of
Antwerp, Venice, and Genoa, were making profit on the gold which was
still buried in the mines of Peru. For the sake of India, Spain had been
depopulated, while the treasures drawn from thence were wasted in the
re-conquest of Holland, in the chimerical project of changing
the succession to the crown of France, and in an unfortunate attack upon
England. But the pride of this court had survived its greatness, as the hate
of its enemies had outlived its power. Distrust of the
Protestants suggested to the ministry of Philip III. the
dangerous policy of his father; and the reliance of the Roman Catholics
in Germany on Spanish assistance, was as firm as their belief in the
wonder-working bones of the martyrs. External splendour concealed the inward
wounds at which the life-blood of this monarchy was oozing; and the
belief of its strength survived, because it still maintained the lofty
tone of its golden days. Slaves in their palaces, and strangers
even upon their own thrones, the Spanish nominal kings still gave
laws to their German relations; though it is very doubtful if the
support they afforded was worth the dependence by which the emperors
purchased it. The fate of Europe was decided behind the Pyrenees by
ignorant monks or vindictive favourites. Yet, even in its debasement, a power
must always be formidable, which yields to none in extent; which,
from custom, if not from the steadfastness of its views, adhered
faithfully to one system of policy; which possessed well-disciplined armies
and consummate generals; which, where the sword failed, did not scruple
to employ the dagger;
and converted even its ambassadors into
incendiaries and assassins. What it had lost in three quarters of
the globe, it now sought to regain to the eastward, and all Europe was at
its mercy, if it could succeed in its long cherished design of uniting
with the hereditary dominions of Austria all that lay between the Alps and the
Adriatic.
To the great alarm of the native states,
this formidable power had gained a footing in Italy, where its
continual encroachments made the neighbouring sovereigns to
tremble for their own possessions. The Pope himself was in the most
dangerous situation; hemmed in on both sides by the Spanish
Viceroys of Naples on the one side, and that of Milan upon the other.
Venice was confined between the Austrian Tyrol and the Spanish
territories in Milan. Savoy was surrounded by the latter and
France. Hence the wavering and equivocal policy, which from the
time of Charles V. had been pursued by the Italian States. The double
character which pertained to the Popes made them perpetually vacillate between
two contradictory systems of policy. If the successors of St. Peter found in
the Spanish princes their most obedient disciples, and the
most steadfast supporters of the Papal See, yet the princes of the
States of the Church had in these monarchs their most
dangerous neighbours, and most formidable opponents. If, in
the one capacity, their dearest wish was the destruction of the Protestants,
and the triumph of Austria, in the other, they had reason to bless
the arms of the Protestants, which disabled a dangerous enemy. The
one or the other sentiment prevailed, according as the love of temporal
dominion, or zeal for spiritual supremacy, predominated in the mind of the Pope.
But the policy of Rome was, on the whole, directed to immediate
dangers; and it is well known how far more powerful is the
apprehension of losing a present good, than anxiety to recover a long lost
possession. And thus it becomes intelligible how the Pope
should first combine with Austria for the destruction of heresy, and then
conspire with these very heretics for the destruction of Austria.
Strangely blended are the threads of human affairs! What would have
become of the Reformation, and of the liberties of Germany, if the
Bishop of Rome and the Prince of Rome had had but one interest?
France had lost with its great Henry all
its importance and all its weight in the political balance of Europe. A
turbulent minority had destroyed all the benefits of the able
administration of Henry. Incapable ministers, the creatures of court intrigue,
squandered in a few years the treasures which Sully's economy and
Henry's frugality had amassed. Scarce able to maintain their ground
against internal factions, they were compelled to resign to other
hands the helm of European affairs. The same civil war which armed Germany
against itself,
excited a similar commotion in France;
and Louis XIII. attained majority only to wage a war with his own mother
and his Protestant subjects. This party, which had been kept quiet by
Henry's enlightened policy, now seized the opportunity to take up
arms, and, under the command of some adventurous leaders, began to
form themselves into a party within the state, and to fix on the
strong and powerful town of Rochelle as the capital of their intended
kingdom. Too little of a statesman to suppress, by a prudent toleration,
this civil commotion in its birth, and too little master of the resources
of his kingdom to direct them with energy, Louis XIII.
was reduced to the degradation of purchasing the
submission of the rebels by large sums of money. Though policy
might incline him, in one point of view, to assist the
Bohemian insurgents against Austria, the son of Henry the Fourth was now
compelled to be an inactive spectator of their destruction, happy enough if
the Calvinists in his own dominions did not unseasonably bethink them of
their confederates beyond the Rhine. A great mind at the helm of state would
have reduced the Protestants in France to obedience,
while it employed them to fight for the independence of their German
brethren. But Henry IV. was no more, and Richelieu had not yet revived his
system of policy.
While the glory of France was thus upon
the wane, the emancipated republic of Holland was completing the
fabric of its greatness. The enthusiastic courage had not yet
died away which, enkindled by the House of Orange, had
converted this mercantile people into a nation of heroes, and had enabled
them to maintain their independence in a bloody war against the Spanish
monarchy. Aware how much they owed their own liberty to foreign support,
these republicans were ready to assist their German brethren in a
similar cause, and the more so, as both were opposed to the same enemy,
and the liberty of Germany was the best warrant for that of
Holland. But a republic which had still to battle for its very existence, which,
with all its wonderful exertions, was scarce a match for the formidable
enemy within its own territories, could not be expected to withdraw its
troops from the necessary work of self-defence to employ them with a
magnanimous policy in protecting foreign states.
England too, though now united with
Scotland, no longer possessed, under the weak James, that influence in
the affairs of Europe which the governing mind of Elizabeth
had procured for it. Convinced that the welfare of her dominions depended on
the security of the Protestants, this politic princess had never swerved
from the principle of promoting every enterprise which had for its object the
diminution of the Austrian power. Her successor was no less devoid of
capacity to comprehend, than of vigour to execute, her views.
While the economical Elizabeth
spared not her treasures to support the
Flemings against Spain, and Henry IV. against the League, James
abandoned his daughter, his son-in-law, and his grandchild, to
the fury of their enemies. While he exhausted his learning to
establish the divine right of kings, he allowed his own dignity to sink into
the dust; while he exerted his rhetoric to prove
the absolute authority of kings, he reminded the people of theirs; and by
a useless profusion, sacrificed the chief of his sovereign
rights -- that of dispensing with his parliament, and thus depriving
liberty of its organ. An innate horror at the sight of a naked sword averted
him from the most just of wars; while his favourite Buckingham practised
on his weakness, and his own complacent vanity rendered
him an easy dupe of Spanish artifice. While his son-in-law was ruined, and the
inheritance of his grandson given to others, this weak prince was
imbibing, with satisfaction, the incense which was offered to him by
Austria and Spain. To divert his attention from the German
war, he was amused with the proposal of a Spanish marriage for his son, and
the ridiculous parent encouraged the romantic youth in the
foolish project of paying his addresses in person to the Spanish princess. But
his son lost his bride, as his son-in-law lost the crown of
Bohemia and the Palatine Electorate; and death alone saved him from the
danger of closing his pacific reign by a war at home, which he never had
courage to maintain, even at a distance.
The domestic disturbances which his
misgovernment had gradually excited burst forth under his unfortunate son,
and forced him, after some unimportant attempts, to renounce all
further participation in the German war, in order to stem within his own kingdom
the rage of faction. Two illustrious monarchs, far unequal in
personal reputation, but equal in power and desire of fame,
made the North at this time to be respected. Under the long and
active reign of Christian IV., Denmark had risen into importance. The
personal qualifications of this prince, an excellent navy, a
formidable army, well-ordered finances, and prudent alliances, had combined to
give her prosperity at home and influence abroad. Gustavus Vasa had
rescued Sweden from vassalage, reformed it by wise laws, and had
introduced, for the first time, this newly-organized state into the
field of European politics. What this great prince had merely
sketched in rude outline, was filled up by Gustavus Adolphus, his
still greater grandson.
These two kingdoms, once unnaturally
united and enfeebled by their union, had been violently separated at the time
of the Reformation, and this separation was the epoch of
their prosperity. Injurious as this compulsory union had
proved to both kingdoms, equally necessary to each apart were
neighbourly friendship and harmony.
On both the evangelical church leaned;
both had the same seas to protect; a common interest ought to unite them
against the same enemy. But the hatred which had dissolved the
union of these monarchies continued long after their separation to
divide the two nations. The Danish kings could not abandon their
pretensions to the Swedish crown, nor the Swedes banish the remembrance of
Danish oppression. The contiguous boundaries of the two
kingdoms constantly furnished materials for international quarrels, while the
watchful jealousy of both kings, and the unavoidable collision of their
commercial interests in the North Seas, were inexhaustible sources of dispute.
Among the means of which Gustavus Vasa,
the founder of the Swedish monarchy, availed himself to strengthen his new
edifice, the Reformation had been one of the principal. A fundamental law
of the kingdom excluded the adherents of popery from
all offices of the state, and prohibited every future sovereign of
Sweden from altering the religious constitution of the
kingdom. But the second son and second successor of Gustavus had
relapsed into popery, and his son Sigismund, also king of
Poland, had been guilty of measures which menaced both the constitution and
the established church. Headed by Charles, Duke of Sudermania,
the third son of Gustavus, the Estates made a courageous
resistance, which terminated, at last, in an open civil war between the uncle
and nephew, and between the King and the people.
Duke Charles, administrator of the kingdom during the
absence of the king, had availed himself of Sigismund's long
residence in Poland, and the just displeasure of the states,
to ingratiate himself with the nation, and gradually to
prepare his way to the throne. His views were not a little forwarded by
Sigismund's imprudence. A general Diet ventured to abolish, in
favour of the Protector, the rule of primogeniture which Gustavus
had established in the succession, and placed the Duke of Sudermania on the
throne, from which Sigismund, with his whole posterity, were solemnly
excluded. The son of the new king (who reigned under the name of Charles
IX.) was Gustavus Adolphus, whom, as the son of a usurper, the adherents
of Sigismund refused to recognize. But if the obligations between monarchy
and subjects are reciprocal, and states are not to be transmitted,
like a lifeless heirloom, from hand to hand, a nation acting with
unanimity must have the power of renouncing their allegiance to a
sovereign who has violated his obligations to them, and of filling
his place by a worthier object.
Gustavus Adolphus had not completed his
seventeenth year, when the Swedish throne became vacant by
the death of his father. But the early maturity of his genius
enabled the Estates to abridge in his favour the legal
period of minority.
With a glorious conquest over himself he
commenced a reign which was to have victory for its
constant attendant, a career which was to begin and end in
success. The young Countess of Brahe, the daughter of a subject, had gained
his early affections, and he had resolved to share with her
the Swedish throne. But, constrained by time and circumstances,
he made his attachment yield to the higher duties of a king, and
heroism again took exclusive possession of a heart which was not destined by
nature to confine itself within the limits of quiet domestic
happiness.
Christian IV. of Denmark, who had
ascended the throne before the birth of Gustavus, in an inroad upon Sweden,
had gained some considerable advantages over the father of that hero. Gustavus
Adolphus hastened to put an end to this destructive war, and by prudent
sacrifices obtained a peace, in order to turn his arms against the
Czar of Muscovy. The questionable fame of a conqueror
never tempted him to spend the blood of his subjects in unjust
wars; but he never shrunk from a just one. His arms were successful against Russia,
and Sweden was augmented by several important provinces on the
east.
In the meantime, Sigismund of Poland
retained against the son the same sentiments of hostility which
the father had provoked, and left no artifice untried to shake
the allegiance of his subjects, to cool the ardour of his friends, and
to embitter his enemies. Neither the great qualities of his
rival, nor the repeated proofs of devotion which Sweden gave to her loved monarch,
could extinguish in this infatuated prince the foolish
hope of regaining his lost throne. All Gustavus's overtures were haughtily
rejected. Unwillingly was this really peaceful king involved in a
tedious war with Poland, in which the whole of Livonia and Polish
Prussia were successively conquered. Though constantly victorious, Gustavus
Adolphus was always the first to hold out the hand of peace.
This contest between Sweden and Poland
falls somewhere about the beginning of the Thirty Years' War in Germany, with
which it is in some measure connected. It was enough that Sigismund, himself a
Roman Catholic, was disputing the Swedish crown with a Protestant
prince, to assure him the active support of Spain and Austria; while a double
relationship to the Emperor gave him a still stronger claim to his
protection. It was his reliance on this powerful assistance that chiefly
encouraged the King of Poland to continue the war, which had hitherto
turned out so unfavourably for him, and the courts of Madrid and Vienna
failed not to encourage him by high-sounding promises. While
Sigismund lost one place after another in Livonia, Courland, and Prussia, he
saw his ally in Germany advancing from conquest after conquest
to unlimited power.
No wonder then if his aversion to peace
kept pace with his losses. The vehemence with which he nourished
his chimerical hopes blinded him to the artful policy of his confederates,
who at his expense were keeping the Swedish hero employed, in order to
overturn, without opposition, the liberties of Germany, and then to
seize on the exhausted North as an easy conquest. One circumstance
which had not been calculated on -- the magnanimity of Gustavus -- overthrew
this deceitful policy. An eight years' war in Poland, so far
from exhausting the power of Sweden, had only served to mature the military
genius of Gustavus, to inure the Swedish army to warfare, and
insensibly to perfect that system of tactics by which they were afterwards to perform
such wonders in Germany. After this necessary digression on the
existing circumstances of Europe, I now resume the thread of my history.
Ferdinand had regained his dominions,
but had not indemnified himself for the expenses of recovering them. A
sum of forty millions of florins, which the confiscations in Bohemia and
Moravia had produced, would have sufficed to reimburse both
himself and his allies; but the Jesuits and his favourites soon
squandered this sum, large as it was. Maximilian, Duke of Bavaria, to whose
victorious arm, principally, the Emperor owed the recovery of his
dominions; who, in the service of religion and the Emperor, had
sacrificed his near relation, had the strongest claims on his
gratitude; and moreover, in a treaty which, before the war, the
duke had concluded with the Emperor, he had expressly stipulated for the
reimbursement of all expenses. Ferdinand felt the full weight of the
obligation imposed upon him by this treaty and by these services,
but he was not disposed to discharge it at his own cost. His purpose was to
bestow a brilliant reward upon the duke, but without detriment to himself. How
could this be done better than at the expense of the unfortunate
prince who, by his revolt, had given the Emperor a right to punish
him, and whose offences might be painted in colours strong
enough to justify the most violent measures under the appearance of law. That,
then, Maximilian may be rewarded, Frederick must be further persecuted and
totally ruined; and to defray the expenses of the old
war, a new one must be commenced.
But a still stronger motive combined to
enforce the first. Hitherto Ferdinand had been contending
for existence alone; he had been fulfilling no other duty
than that of self-defence. But now, when victory gave him freedom
to act, a higher duty occurred to him, and he remembered the
vow which he had made at Loretto and at Rome, to his
generalissima, the Holy Virgin, to extend her worship even at the risk
of his crown and life. With this object, the oppression of the
Protestants was inseparably connected.
More favourable circumstances for its
accomplishment could not offer than those which presented themselves at
the close of the Bohemian war. Neither the power, nor a pretext of
right, were now wanting to enable him to place the Palatinate in
the hands of the Catholics, and the importance of this change to the
Catholic interests in Germany would be incalculable. Thus, in
rewarding the Duke of Bavaria with the spoils of his relation, he at
once gratified his meanest passions and fulfilled his most exalted duties;
he crushed an enemy whom he hated, and spared his avarice a painful
sacrifice, while he believed he was winning a heavenly crown.
In the Emperor's cabinet, the ruin of
Frederick had been resolved upon long before fortune had decided against
him; but it was only after this event that they ventured to direct against him
the thunders of arbitrary power. A decree of the Emperor, destitute of
all the formalities required on such occasions by the laws of the
Empire, pronounced the Elector, and three other princes who had borne
arms for him at Silesia and Bohemia, as offenders against the imperial
majesty, and disturbers of the public peace, under the ban of the empire, and
deprived them of their titles and territories. The execution of this
sentence against Frederick, namely the seizure of his lands, was, in
further contempt of law, committed to Spain as Sovereign of the
circle of Burgundy, to the Duke of Bavaria, and the League.
Had the Evangelic Union been worthy of the name it bore, and of the cause
which it pretended to defend, insuperable obstacles might have
prevented the execution of the sentence; but it was hopeless for a power which
was far from a match even for the Spanish troops in the Lower
Palatinate, to contend against the united strength of the Emperor,
Bavaria, and the League. The sentence of proscription pronounced
upon the Elector soon detached the free cities from the
Union; and the princes quickly followed their example. Fortunate in preserving
their own dominions, they abandoned the Elector, their former
chief, to the Emperor's mercy, renounced the Union, and vowed never to
revive it again. But while thus ingloriously the German
princes deserted the unfortunate Frederick, and while
Bohemia, Silesia, and Moravia submitted to the Emperor, a single man,
a soldier of fortune, whose only treasure was his sword,
Ernest Count Mansfeld, dared, in the Bohemian town of Pilsen, to defy
the whole power of Austria. Left without assistance after the battle
of Prague by the Elector, to whose service he had devoted himself,
and even uncertain whether Frederick would thank him for
his perseverance, he alone for some time held out against
the imperialists, till the garrison, mutinying for want of
pay, sold the town to the Emperor. Undismayed by this reverse, he
immediately commenced new levies
in the Upper Palatinate, and enlisted
the disbanded troops of the Union. A new army of 20,000 men was soon
assembled under his banners, the more formidable to the provinces
which might be the object of its attack, because it must subsist by plunder.
Uncertain where this swarm might light, the neighbouring bishops trembled for
their rich possessions, which offered a tempting prey to its ravages. But,
pressed by the Duke of Bavaria, who now entered the Upper Palatinate,
Mansfeld was compelled to retire. Eluding, by a successful stratagem, the
Bavarian general, Tilly, who was in pursuit of him, he suddenly
appeared in the Lower Palatinate, and there wreaked upon the bishoprics of
the Rhine the severities he had designed for those of Franconia. While
the imperial and Bavarian allies thus overran Bohemia, the Spanish
general, Spinola, had penetrated with a numerous army from the
Netherlands into the Lower Palatinate, which, however, the pacification of Ulm
permitted the Union to defend. But their measures were so badly
concerted, that one place after another fell into the hands of the Spaniards;
and at last, when the Union broke up, the greater part of the country was in
the possession of Spain. The Spanish general, Corduba, who
commanded these troops after the recall of Spinola, hastily raised the siege of
Frankenthal, when Mansfeld entered the Lower Palatinate.
But instead of
driving the Spaniards out of this province, he hastened across the
Rhine to secure for his needy troops shelter and subsistence in Alsace. The
open countries on which this swarm of maurauders threw themselves
were converted into frightful deserts, and only by enormous contributions could
the cities purchase an exemption from plunder. Reinforced
by this expedition, Mansfeld again appeared on the Rhine to
cover the Lower Palatinate.
So long as such an arm fought for him,
the cause of the Elector Frederick was not irretrievably lost. New
prospects began to open, and misfortune raised up friends who had
been silent during his prosperity. King James of England, who had looked on
with indifference while his son-in-law lost the Bohemian crown,
was aroused from his insensibility when the very existence of his daughter
and grandson was at stake, and the victorious enemy ventured an
attack upon the Electorate. Late enough, he at last opened his
treasures, and hastened to afford supplies of money and troops, first to the Union,
which at that time was defending the Lower Palatinate, and afterwards,
when they retired, to Count Mansfeld. By his means his near relation,
Christian, King of Denmark, was induced to afford his active
support. At the same time, the approaching expiration of the truce
between Spain and Holland deprived the Emperor of all the supplies
which otherwise he might expect from the side of the Netherlands. More
important still was the assistance which the Palatinate received from
Transylvania and Hungary. The cessation of hostilities between
Gabor and the Emperor was scarcely at an end, when this old
and formidable enemy of Austria
overran Hungary anew, and caused himself
to be crowned king in Presburg. So rapid was his progress that, to
protect Austria and Hungary, Boucquoi was obliged to evacuate
Bohemia. This brave general met his death at the siege of Neuhausel, as, shortly
before, the no less valiant Dampierre had fallen before Presburg. Gabor's
march into the Austrian territory was irresistible; the old Count Thurn,
and several other distinguished Bohemians, had united
their hatred and their strength with this irreconcileable enemy of
Austria. A vigorous attack on the side of Germany, while Gabor
pressed the Emperor on that of Hungary, might have retrieved the fortunes of
Frederick; but, unfortunately, the Bohemians and Germans had always
laid down their arms when Gabor took the field; and the
latter was always exhausted at the very moment that the former began
to recover their vigour.
Meanwhile Frederick had not delayed to
join his protector Mansfeld. In disguise he entered the Lower
Palatinate, of which the possession was at that time disputed between
Mansfeld and the Bavarian general, Tilly, the Upper Palatinate having been long
conquered. A ray of hope shone upon him as, from the wreck of the
Union, new friends came forward. A former member of the Union, George
Frederick, Margrave of Baden, had for some time been engaged in
assembling a military force, which soon amounted to a considerable
army. Its destination was kept a secret till he suddenly took
the field and joined Mansfeld. Before commencing the war, he resigned
his Margraviate to his son, in the hope of eluding, by this
precaution, the Emperor's revenge, if his enterprize should be
unsuccessful. His neighbour, the Duke of Wirtemberg, likewise began
to augment his military force. The courage of the Palatine revived, and
he laboured assiduously to renew the Protestant Union. It was
now time for Tilly to consult for his own safety, and he hastily
summoned the Spanish troops, under Corduba, to his assistance. But while the enemy
was uniting his strength, Mansfeld and the Margrave separated, and
the latter was defeated by the Bavarian general near Wimpfen
(1622).
To defend a king whom his nearest
relation persecuted, and who was deserted even by his own
father-in-law, there had come forward an adventurer without money, and whose
very legitimacy was questioned. A sovereign had resigned possessions
over which he reigned in peace, to hazard the uncertain fortune of war
in behalf of a stranger. And now another soldier of fortune, poor
in territorial possessions, but rich in illustrious ancestry,
undertook the defence of a cause which the former despaired of.
Christian, Duke of Brunswick, administrator of Halberstadt, seemed to
have learnt from Count Mansfeld the secret of keeping in the field an
army of 20,000 men without money. Impelled by youthful presumption, and
influenced partly by the wish of
establishing his reputation at the
expense of the Roman Catholic priesthood, whom he cordially detested, and partly
by a thirst for plunder, he assembled a considerable army in
Lower Saxony, under the pretext of espousing the defence of Frederick,
and of the liberties of Germany. "God's Friend, Priest's Foe", was the
motto he chose for his coinage, which was struck out of church plate;
and his conduct belied one half at least of the device.
The progress of these banditti was, as
usual, marked by the most frightful devastation.
Enriched by the spoils of the chapters of Lower Saxony and Westphalia, they
gathered strength to plunder the bishoprics upon the Upper
Rhine. Driven from thence, both by friends and foes, the
Administrator approached the town of Hoechst on the Maine, which
he crossed after a murderous action with Tilly, who disputed with him the
passage of the river. With the loss of half his army he
reached the opposite bank, where he quickly collected his shattered troops,
and formed a junction with Mansfeld. Pursued by Tilly, this united host threw
itself again into Alsace, to repeat their former ravages. While
the Elector Frederick followed, almost like a fugitive mendicant, this
swarm of plunderers which acknowledged him as its lord, and
dignified itself with his name, his friends were busily endeavouring to
effect a reconciliation between him and the Emperor. Ferdinand
took care not to deprive them of all hope of seeing the Palatine
restored to his dominion. Full of artifice and dissimulation, he
pretended to be willing to enter into a negotiation, hoping thereby to
cool their ardour in the field, and to prevent them from driving matters
to extremity. James I., ever the dupe of Spanish cunning,
contributed not a little, by his foolish intermeddling, to promote
the Emperor's schemes. Ferdinand insisted that Frederick, if he
would appeal to his clemency, should, first of all, lay down his arms,
and James considered this demand extremely reasonable. At his
instigation, the Elector dismissed his only real defenders, Count Mansfeld
and the Administrator, and in Holland awaited his own fate from
the mercy of the Emperor. Mansfeld and Duke Christian were now at
a loss for some new name; the cause of the Elector had not set
them in motion, so his dismissal could not disarm them. War was their
object; it was all the same to them in whose cause or name it was waged.
After some vain attempts on the part of Mansfeld to be received
into the Emperor's service, both marched into Lorraine, where the
excesses of their troops spread terror even to the heart of
France. Here they long waited in vain for a master willing to purchase their
services; till the Dutch, pressed by the Spanish General Spinola,
offered to take them into pay. After a bloody fight at Fleurus with the
Spaniards,
who attempted to intercept them, they
reached Holland, where their appearance compelled the
Spanish general forthwith to raise the siege of Bergen-op-Zoom.
But even Holland was soon weary of these dangerous guests, and availed
herself of the first moment to get rid of their unwelcome
assistance. Mansfeld allowed his troops to recruit themselves for new
enterprises in the fertile province of East Friezeland. Duke Christian,
passionately enamoured of the Electress Palatine, with whom he
had become acquainted in Holland, and more disposed for war than ever, led
back his army into Lower Saxony, bearing that princess's glove in his
hat, and on his standards the motto "All for God and Her". Neither of these
adventurers had as yet run their career in this war.
All the imperial territories were now
free from the enemy; the Union was dissolved; the Margrave of
Baden, Duke Christian, and Mansfeld, driven from the field, and the
Palatinate overrun by the executive troops of the empire. Manheim and Heidelberg
were in possession of Bavaria, and Frankenthal was shortly afterwards
ceded to the Spaniards. The Palatine, in a distant corner of Holland, awaited
the disgraceful permission to appease, by abject submission, the vengeance of
the Emperor; and an Electoral Diet was at last summoned to decide his
fate. That fate, however, had been long before decided at the
court of the Emperor; though now, for the first time, were circumstances
favourable for giving publicity to the decision. After his past
measures towards the Elector, Ferdinand believed that a sincere
reconciliation was not to be hoped for. The violent course he had once begun,
must be completed successfully, or recoil upon himself. What was
already lost was irrecoverable; Frederick could never hope to regain his
dominions; and a prince without territory and
without subjects had little chance of retaining the electoral crown.
Deeply as the Palatine had offended against the House of Austria, the
services of the Duke of Bavaria were no less meritorious. If the House of
Austria and the Roman Catholic church had much to dread from the resentment
and religious rancour of the Palatine family, they had as much
to hope from the gratitude and religious zeal of the
Bavarian. Lastly, by the cession of the Palatine
Electorate to Bavaria, the Roman Catholic religion would obtain
a decisive preponderance in the Electoral College, and secure a
permanent triumph in Germany.
The last circumstance was sufficient to
win the support of the three Ecclesiastical Electors to
this innovation; and among the Protestants the vote of
Saxony was alone of any importance. But could John George be expected to
dispute with the Emperor a right, without which he would expose to
question his own title to the electoral dignity? To a prince
whom descent, dignity,
and political power placed at the head
of the Protestant church in Germany, nothing, it is true, ought to be more
sacred than the defence of the rights of that church against all the
encroachments of the Roman Catholics. But the question here was not whether
the interests of the Protestants were to be supported against the Roman
Catholics, but which of two religions equally detested, the
Calvinistic and the Popish, was to triumph over the other; to which
of the two enemies, equally dangerous, the Palatinate was to
be assigned; and in this clashing of opposite duties, it was natural that
private hate and private gain should determine the event. The born
protector of the liberties of Germany, and of the Protestant religion,
encouraged the Emperor to dispose of the Palatinate by his
imperial prerogative; and to apprehend no resistance on the
part of Saxony to his measures on the mere ground of form. If the
Elector was afterwards disposed to retract this consent, Ferdinand himself,
by driving the Evangelical preachers from Bohemia, was the cause of this
change of opinion; and, in the eyes of the Elector, the transference of the
Palatine Electorate to Bavaria ceased to be illegal, as soon as
Ferdinand was prevailed upon to cede Lusatia to Saxony, in
consideration of six millions of dollars, as the expenses of the war.
Thus, in defiance of all Protestant
Germany, and in mockery of the fundamental laws of the empire,
which, as his election, he had sworn to maintain, Ferdinand at
Ratisbon solemnly invested the Duke of Bavaria with the Palatinate,
without prejudice, as the form ran, to the rights which the relations or
descendants of Frederick might afterwards establish. That
unfortunate prince thus saw himself irrevocably driven from his possessions,
without having been even heard before the tribunal which condemned him
-- a privilege which the law allows to the meanest subject, and even to the
most atrocious criminal. This violent step at last opened the
eyes of the King of England; and as the negociations for the marriage
of his son with the Infanta of Spain were now broken off, James began
seriously to espouse the cause of his son-in-law. A change in the
French ministry had placed Cardinal Richelieu at the head of
affairs, and this fallen kingdom soon began to feel that a great mind was
at the helm of state. The attempts of the Spanish Viceroy in Milan to gain
possession of the Valtelline, and thus to form a junction with the
Austrian hereditary dominions, revived the olden dread of this power,
and with it the policy of Henry the Great. The marriage of the
Prince of Wales with Henrietta of France, established a
close union between the two crowns; and to this alliance, Holland, Denmark,
and some of the Italian states presently acceded. Its object was to
expel, by force of arms, Spain from the Valtelline, and to compel
Austria to reinstate Frederick;
but only the first of these designs was
prosecuted with vigour. James I. died, and Charles I., involved
in disputes with his Parliament, could not bestow attention on the
affairs of Germany. Savoy and Venice withheld their assistance; and the
French minister thought it necessary to subdue the Huguenots at home, before
he supported the German Protestants against the Emperor. Great as were the
hopes which had been formed from this alliance, they were yet equalled by
the disappointment of the event.
Mansfeld, deprived of all support,
remained inactive on the Lower Rhine; and Duke Christian of Brunswick, after
an unsuccessful campaign, was a second time driven out of
Germany. A fresh irruption of Bethlen Gabor into Moravia, frustrated by the want of
support from the Germans, terminated, like all the rest, in a
formal peace with the Emperor. The Union was no more; no Protestant
prince was in arms; and on the frontiers of Lower Germany,
the Bavarian General Tilly, at the head of a victorious army,
encamped in the Protestant territory. The movements of the Duke of Brunswick
had drawn him into this quarter, and even into the circle of Lower
Saxony, when he made himself master of the Administrator's magazines
at Lippstadt. The necessity of observing this enemy, and preventing
him from new inroads, was the pretext assigned for continuing
Tilly's stay in the country. But, in truth, both Mansfeld and Duke
Christian had, from want of money, disbanded their armies, and Count Tilly
had no enemy to dread. Why, then, still burden the country with his
presence?
It is difficult, amidst the uproar of
contending parties, to distinguish the voice of truth; but
certainly it was matter for alarm that the League did not lay down its
arms. The premature rejoicings of the Roman Catholics, too, were
calculated to increase apprehension. The Emperor and the League stood armed
and victorious in Germany without a power to oppose them, should
they venture to attack the Protestant states and to annul the
religious treaty. Had Ferdinand been in reality far from
disposed to abuse his conquests, still the defenceless position of the
Protestants was most likely to suggest the temptation. Obsolete conventions
could not bind a prince who thought that he owed all to religion, and
believed that a religious creed would sanctify any deed, however violent.
Upper Germany was already overpowered. Lower Germany alone could check his
despotic authority. Here the Protestants still predominated; the church had been
forcibly deprived of most of its endowments; and the present
appeared a favourable moment for recovering these lost possessions.
A great part of the strength of the Lower German princes consisted in
these Chapters, and the plea of restoring its own to the
church, afforded an excellent pretext for weakening these princes.
Unpardonable would have been their
negligence, had they remained inactive in this danger. The remembrance of the
ravages which Tilly's army had committed in Lower Saxony was too
recent not to arouse the Estates to measures of defence. With all haste,
the circle of Lower Saxony began to arm itself. Extraordinary
contributions were levied, troops collected, and magazines filled. Negociations for
subsidies were set on foot with Venice, Holland, and England. They
deliberated, too, what power should be placed at the head
of the confederacy. The kings of the Sound and the Baltic,
the natural allies of this circle, would not see with indifference the
Emperor treating it as a conqueror, and establishing himself as their
neighbour on the shores of the North Sea. The twofold interests of religion and
policy urged them to put a stop to his progress in Lower Germany.
Christian IV. of Denmark, as Duke of Holstein, was himself a
prince of this circle, and by considerations equally powerful,
Gustavus Adolphus of Sweden was induced to join the confederacy.
These two kings vied with each other for
the honour of defending Lower Saxony, and of opposing the formidable power of
Austria. Each offered to raise a well-disciplined army, and to lead it
in person. His victorious campaigns against Moscow and Poland gave weight to
the promises of the King of Sweden. The shores of the Baltic were full of
the name of Gustavus. But the fame of his rival excited the
envy of the Danish monarch; and the more success he promised himself
in this campaign, the less disposed was he to show any
favour to his envied neighbour. Both laid their conditions and plans
before the English ministry, and Christian IV. finally succeeded in
outbidding his rival. Gustavus Adolphus, for his own security,
had demanded the cession of some places of strength in Germany,
where he himself had no territories, to afford, in case of need, a place of
refuge for his troops. Christian IV. possessed Holstein and
Jutland, through which, in the event of a defeat, he could
always secure a retreat. Eager to get the start of his
competitor, the King of Denmark hastened to take the field. Appointed
generalissimo of the circle of Lower Saxony, he soon had an army of 60,000 men in
motion; the administrator of Magdeburg, and the Dukes of Brunswick and
Mecklenburgh, entered into an alliance with him. Encouraged by the hope of
assistance from England, and the possession of so large a force,
he flattered himself he should be able to terminate the war
in a single campaign.
At Vienna, it was officially notified
that the only object of these preparations was the protection
of the circle, and the maintenance of peace. But the
negociations with Holland, England, and even France, the extraordinary
exertions of the circle, and the raising
of so formidable an army, seemed to have
something more in view than defensive operations, and to
contemplate nothing less than the complete restoration of the
Elector Palatine, and the humiliation of the dreaded power
of Austria.
After negociations, exhortations,
commands, and threats had in vain been employed by the Emperor in order to
induce the King of Denmark and the circle of Lower Saxony to lay
down their arms, hostilities commenced, and Lower Germany became the theatre of
war. Count Tilly, marching along the left bank of the
Weser, made himself master of all the passes as far as Minden.
After an unsuccessful attack on Nieuburg, he crossed the river and overran the
principality of Calemberg, in which he quartered his troops. The
king conducted his operations on the right bank of the river, and
spread his forces over the territories of Brunswick, but having
weakened his main body by too powerful detachments, he could not
engage in any enterprise of importance. Aware of his opponent's superiority, he
avoided a decisive action as anxiously as the general of the
League sought it.
With the exception of the troops from
the Spanish Netherlands, which had poured into the Lower
Palatinate, the Emperor had hitherto made use only of the arms of Bavaria and
the League in Germany. Maximilian conducted the war as executor
of the ban of the empire, and Tilly, who commanded the army of
execution, was in the Bavarian service. The Emperor owed superiority in the
field to Bavaria and the League, and his fortunes were in their hands.
This dependence on their goodwill, but ill accorded with the grand schemes,
which the brilliant commencement of the war had led the imperial cabinet
to form. However active the League had shown
itself in the Emperor's defence, while thereby it secured its own
welfare, it could not be expected that it would enter as readily into his
views of conquest. Or, if they still continued to lend their
armies for that purpose, it was too much to be feared that they
would share with the Emperor nothing but general odium, while they
appropriated to themselves all advantages. A strong army under his
own orders could alone free him from this debasing dependence upon
Bavaria, and restore to him his former pre-eminence in Germany. But
the war had already exhausted the imperial dominions, and they were
unequal to the expense of such an armament. In these
circumstances, nothing could be more welcome to the Emperor than the
proposal with which one of his officers surprised him.
This was Count Wallenstein, an
experienced officer, and the richest nobleman in Bohemia.
From his earliest youth
he had been in the service of the House
of Austria, and several campaigns against the Turks, Venetians, Bohemians,
Hungarians, and Transylvanians had established his reputation. He was
present as colonel at the battle of Prague, and afterwards,
as major-general, had defeated a Hungarian force in
Moravia. The Emperor's gratitude was equal to his services, and a large
share of the confiscated estates of the Bohemian insurgents was their
reward. Possessed of immense property, excited by ambitious views, confident in
his own good fortune, and still more encouraged by the
existing state of circumstances, he offered, at his own expense and that
of his friends, to raise and clothe an army for the
Emperor, and even undertook the cost of maintaining it, if he were
allowed to augment it to 50,000 men. The project was universally ridiculed as
the chimerical offspring of a visionary brain; but the offer was
highly valuable, if its promises should be but partially fulfilled.
Certain circles in Bohemia were assigned to him as depots, with
authority to appoint his own officers. In a few months he had 20,000 men under
arms, with which, quitting the Austrian territories, he
soon afterwards appeared on the frontiers of Lower Saxony with
30,000. The Emperor had lent this armament nothing but his
name. The reputation of the general, the prospect of rapid promotion, and the
hope of plunder, attracted to his standard adventurers
from all quarters of Germany; and even sovereign princes, stimulated
by the desire of glory or of gain, offered to raise regiments for the
service of Austria.
Now, therefore, for the first time in
this war, an imperial army appeared in Germany; -- an event which
if it was menacing to the Protestants, was scarcely more acceptable to the
Catholics. Wallenstein had orders to unite his army with the troops of the
League, and in conjunction with the Bavarian general to attack the
King of Denmark. But long jealous of Tilly's fame, he
showed no disposition to share with him the laurels of the campaign, or in the
splendour of his rival's achievements to dim the lustre of his own. His plan
of operations was to support the latter, but to act
entirely independent of him. As he had not resources, like Tilly, for
supplying the wants of his army, he was obliged to march his troops into
fertile countries which had not as yet suffered from war.
Disobeying, therefore, the order to form a junction with the
general of the League, he marched into the territories of
Halberstadt and Magdeburg, and at Dessau made himself master of the
Elbe. All the lands on either bank of this river were at his
command, and from them he could either attack the King of
Denmark in the rear, or, if prudent, enter the territories of that prince.
Christian IV. was fully aware of the
danger of his situation between
two such powerful armies. He had
already been joined by the administrator of Halberstadt, who had lately returned
from Holland; he now also acknowledged Mansfeld, whom previously
he had refused to recognise, and supported him to the best of his
ability. Mansfeld amply requited this service. He alone kept at bay the
army of Wallenstein upon the Elbe, and prevented its junction with that of
Tilly, and a combined attack on the King of Denmark. Notwithstanding
the enemy's superiority, this intrepid general even approached
the bridge of Dessau, and ventured to entrench himself in
presence of the imperial lines. But attacked in the rear by the whole
force of the Imperialists, he was obliged to yield to superior
numbers, and to abandon his post with the loss of 3,000 killed. After
this defeat, Mansfeld withdrew into Brandenburg, where he soon
recruited and reinforced his army; and suddenly turned into Silesia, with
the view of marching from thence into Hungary; and, in conjunction with
Bethlen Gabor, carrying the war into the heart of Austria. As the
Austrian dominions in that quarter were entirely defenceless, Wallenstein
received immediate orders to leave the King of Denmark, and if
possible to intercept Mansfeld's progress through Silesia.
The diversion which this movement of
Mansfeld had made in the plans of Wallenstein, enabled the king to
detach a part of his force into Westphalia, to seize the bishoprics
of Munster and Osnaburg. To check this movement, Tilly suddenly
moved from the Weser; but the operations of Duke Christian,
who threatened the territories of the League with an inroad in the
direction of Hesse, and to remove thither the seat of war, recalled him as rapidly
from Westphalia. In order to keep open his communication
with these provinces, and to prevent the junction of the enemy
with the Landgrave of Hesse, Tilly hastily seized all the tenable
posts on the Werha and Fulda, and took up a strong position in Minden,
at the foot of the Hessian Mountains, and at the confluence of these rivers
with the Weser. He soon made himself master of Goettingen, the key of
Brunswick and Hesse, and was meditating a similar attack upon Nordheim, when the
king advanced upon him with his whole army. After throwing
into this place the necessary supplies for a long siege, the latter attempted
to open a new passage through Eichsfeld and Thuringia, into
the territories of the League. He had already reached Duderstadt, when
Tilly, by forced marches, came up with him. As the army of Tilly,
which had been reinforced by some of Wallenstein's regiments, was
superior in numbers to his own, the king, to avoid a battle, retreated
towards Brunswick. But Tilly incessantly harassed his
retreat, and after three days' skirmishing, he was at length obliged to await the
enemy near the village of Lutter in Barenberg. The Danes began the
attack with great bravery, and thrice did their intrepid monarch lead them in
person against the enemy; but at length
the superior numbers and discipline of
the Imperialists prevailed, and the general of the League obtained a
complete victory. The Danes lost sixty standards, and
their whole artillery, baggage, and ammunition. Several officers of
distinction and about 4,000 men were killed in the field of battle; and
several companies of foot, in the flight, who had thrown themselves
into the town-house of Lutter, laid down their arms and surrendered to
the conqueror.
The king fled with his cavalry, and soon
collected the wreck of his army which had survived this serious defeat.
Tilly pursued his victory, made himself master of the Weser and
Brunswick, and forced the king to retire into Bremen. Rendered more
cautious by defeat, the latter now stood upon the defensive;
and determined at all events to prevent the enemy from crossing the
Elbe. But while he threw garrisons into every tenable place, he reduced his
own diminished army to inactivity; and one after another his scattered
troops were either defeated or dispersed. The forces of the League, in command of
the Weser, spread themselves along the Elbe and Havel, and everywhere drove
the Danes before them. Tilly himself crossing the Elbe
penetrated with his victorious army into Brandenburg, while Wallenstein
entered Holstein to remove the seat of war to the king's own dominions.
This general had just returned from
Hungary whither he had pursued Mansfeld, without being able to obstruct his
march, or prevent his junction with Bethlen Gabor. Constantly
persecuted by fortune, but always superior to his fate, Mansfeld had made his way
against countless difficulties, through Silesia and Hungary to
Transylvania, where, after all, he was not very welcome. Relying upon
the assistance of England, and a powerful diversion in Lower
Saxony, Gabor had again broken the truce with the Emperor. But in place of the
expected diversion in his favour, Mansfeld had drawn upon himself the
whole strength of Wallenstein, and instead of bringing, required,
pecuniary assistance. The want of concert in the Protestant counsels cooled
Gabor's ardour; and he hastened, as usual, to avert the coming storm by a speedy
peace. Firmly determined, however, to break it, with the first ray of hope,
he directed Mansfeld in the mean time to apply for assistance to Venice.
Cut off from Germany, and unable to
support the weak remnant of his troops in Hungary, Mansfeld sold his artillery
and baggage train, and disbanded his soldiers. With a few followers, he
proceeded through Bosnia and Dalmatia, towards Venice. New schemes swelled his
bosom; but his career was ended. Fate, which had so restlessly sported
with him throughout, now prepared for him a peaceful grave in
Dalmatia. Death overtook him in the vicinity of Zara in 1626, and a
short time before him died the faithful companion of his
fortunes, Christian, Duke of Brunswick --
two men worthy of immortality, had they
but been as superior to their times as they were to their adversities.
The King of Denmark, with his whole
army, was unable to cope with Tilly alone; much less, therefore, with a shattered
force could he hold his ground against the two imperial generals. The
Danes retired from all their posts on the Weser, the Elbe, and the Havel,
and the army of Wallenstein poured like a torrent into Brandenburg,
Mecklenburg, Holstein and Sleswick. That general, too proud to act in
conjunction with another, had dispatched Tilly across the Elbe, to
watch, as he gave out, the motions of the Dutch in that
quarter; but in reality that he might terminate the war against
the king, and reap for himself the fruits of Tilly's conquests.
Christian had now lost all his fortresses in the German States,
with the exception of Gluckstadt; his armies were defeated or dispersed;
no assistance came from Germany; from England, little consolation; while
his confederates in Lower Saxony were at the mercy of the conqueror. The
Landgrave of Hesse Cassel had been forced by Tilly, soon after the
battle of Lutter, to renounce the Danish alliance.
Wallenstein's formidable appearance before Berlin reduced the Elector of
Brandenburgh to submission, and compelled him to recognise, as
legitimate, Maximilian's title to the Palatine Electorate. The greater
part of Mecklenburgh was now overrun by imperial troops; and both dukes, as
adherents of the King of Denmark, placed under the ban of the empire, and
driven from their dominions. The defence of the German liberties
against illegal encroachments, was punished as a crime deserving the
loss of all dignities and territories; and yet this was but the prelude to the
still more crying enormities which shortly followed.
The secret how Wallenstein had purposed
to fulfil his extravagant designs was now manifest. He had learned the
lesson from Count Mansfeld; but the scholar surpassed his master.
On the principle that war must support war, Mansfeld and
the Duke of Brunswick had subsisted their troops by
contributions levied indiscriminately on friend and enemy; but this predatory
life was attended with all the inconvenience and insecurity
which accompany robbery. Like a fugitive banditti, they were
obliged to steal through exasperated and vigilant enemies; to
roam from one end of Germany to another; to watch their opportunity with anxiety;
and to abandon the most fertile territories whenever
they were defended by a superior army. If Mansfeld and Duke Christian had done
such great things in the face of these difficulties, what
might not be expected if the obstacles were removed; when the
army raised was numerous enough to overawe in itself the most powerful
states of the empire; when the name of the Emperor insured
impunity to every outrage; and when,
under the highest authority, and at the
head of an overwhelming force, the same system of warfare was pursued,
which these two adventurers had hitherto adopted at their own risk,
and with only an untrained multitude?
Wallenstein had all this in view when he
made his bold offer to the Emperor, which now seemed extravagant to no one.
The more his army was augmented, the less cause was there to fear for its
subsistence, because it could irresistibly bear down upon the
refractory states; the more violent its outrages, the more probable was
impunity. Towards hostile states it had the plea of right; towards the
favourably disposed it could allege necessity. The
inequality, too, with which it dealt out its oppressions, prevented any dangerous
union among the states; while the exhaustion of their
territories deprived them of the power of vengeance. Thus the whole of Germany
became a kind of magazine for the imperial army, and the Emperor
was enabled to deal with the other states as absolutely as with
his own hereditary dominions. Universal was the clamour for redress
before the imperial throne; but there was nothing to fear from the
revenge of the injured princes, so long as they appealed for justice.
The general discontent was directed equally against the Emperor, who had
lent his name to these barbarities, and the general who exceeded his power,
and openly abused the authority of his master. They applied to the
Emperor for protection against the outrages of his general; but
Wallenstein had no sooner felt himself absolute in the army, than he threw off
his obedience to his sovereign.
The exhaustion of the enemy made a
speedy peace probable; yet Wallenstein continued to augment the
imperial armies until they were at least 100,000 men strong. Numberless
commissions to colonelcies and inferior commands, the regal pomp of
the commander-in-chief, immoderate largesses to his favourites,
(for he never gave less than a thousand florins,) enormous sums
lavished in corrupting the court at Vienna -- all this had been effected
without burdening the Emperor. These immense sums were raised by the
contributions levied from the lower German provinces, where no distinction
was made between friend and foe; and the territories of all princes were
subjected to the same system of marching and quartering, of extortion
and outrage. If credit is to be given to an
extravagant contemporary statement, Wallenstein, during his seven years
command, had exacted not less than sixty thousand millions of dollars
from one half of Germany. The greater his extortions, the greater
the rewards of his soldiers, and the greater the concourse to his
standard, for the world always follows fortune. His armies
flourished while all the states through which they passed withered.
What cared he for the detestation of the people, and the complaints of
princes? His army adored him, and the very enormity of his guilt
enabled him to bid defiance
to its consequences.
It would be unjust to Ferdinand, were we
to lay all these irregularities to his charge. Had he foreseen that he
was abandoning the German States to the mercy of his officer, he would
have been sensible how dangerous to himself so absolute a general would
prove. The closer the connexion became between the army, and the leader from
whom flowed favour and fortune, the more the ties which united both to
the Emperor were relaxed. Every thing, it is true, was done in the
name of the latter; but Wallenstein only availed himself of
the supreme majesty of the Emperor to crush the authority of other states.
His object was to depress the princes of the empire, to destroy
all gradation of rank between them and the Emperor, and to elevate the
power of the latter above all competition. If the Emperor were absolute in Germany,
who then would be equal to the man intrusted with the execution
of his will? The height to which Wallenstein had raised the imperial
authority astonished even the Emperor himself; but as the
greatness of the master was entirely the work of the servant, the creation of
Wallenstein would necessarily sink again into nothing upon the withdrawal of its
creative hand. Not without an object, therefore, did Wallenstein labour to
poison the minds of the German princes against the Emperor. The more violent
their hatred of Ferdinand, the more indispensable to the Emperor
would become the man who alone could render their ill-will powerless.
His design unquestionably was, that his sovereign should stand in fear
of no one in all Germany -- besides himself, the source and engine
of this despotic power.
As a step towards this end, Wallenstein
now demanded the cession of Mecklenburg, to be held in pledge
till the repayment of his advances for the war. Ferdinand had already
created him Duke of Friedland, apparently with the view of exalting his
own general over Bavaria; but an ordinary recompense would not
satisfy Wallenstein's ambition. In vain was this new demand, which could
be granted only at the expense of two princes of the empire, actively
resisted in the Imperial Council; in vain did the Spaniards, who had long
been offended by his pride, oppose his elevation. The powerful
support which Wallenstein had purchased from the imperial councillors prevailed,
and Ferdinand was determined, at whatever cost, to secure the devotion
of so indispensable a minister. For a slight offence, one of the oldest
German houses was expelled from their hereditary dominions, that a
creature of the Emperor might be enriched by their spoils
(1628).
Wallenstein now began to assume the
title of generalissimo of the Emperor by sea and land. Wismar was taken, and
a firm footing gained on the Baltic. Ships were required from Poland and the
Hanse towns to carry the war to the other side of the Baltic; to
pursue the Danes into the heart
of their own country, and to compel them
to a peace which might prepare the way to more important
conquests. The communication between the Lower German States and the Northern
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