The united armies of
Sweden and Saxony now marched together against the invaders of the
latter—a movement which brought on what was called the great battle
of Leipzig, in which the Scottish troops bore a part so conspicuous,
and where Sir John Hepburn (who came up with his brigade before the
action began) behaved himself so gallantly, "that unto him, in so
far as praise is due to man, was attributed the honour of the day.”
The army of Gustavus was thirty thousand strong; that of Tilly
forty-four thousand. The ground around Leipzig is described in an
old topographical work as being at that time “a pleasant and
fruitful plain, abounding with all necessaries and pleasures,
constantly mowed twice, and sometimes thrice a-year, besides having
pleasant woods, and many fine orchards, with all sorts of fruit.”
On this plain, which is both dull pud monotonous, surrounded, as it
is, by a country without a single eminence to relieve the tameness
of its level Gustavus halted within one mile of the Austrian camp,
on the evening of the 6th September.
When the out-guards (now called picquets) were posted, the whole
army bivouacked for the night on the bare ground, in their armour,
with their swords, muskets, and haversacks for pillows. The King
occupied his travelling-coach, and around it were Sir John Hepburn,
Marshal Horne, Sir John Banier, Baron Teuffel of the Guards, and
other cavaliers, who, sheathed in their complete mail,
notwithstanding the fatigue of their recent march, remained near
him, and with them he conversed at intervals on the chances of the
coming strife.
Around them were thousands taking their last mortal sleep, for their
next would be that one “which knows no waking.”
A haze covered the vast plain, which extends even to Misnia; and
though there are hollows here and there, throughout the whole
expanse not the semblance of a mountain can be distinguished even in
the clearest day; but the line of red fires which marked Tilly’s
position in front of Leipzig were distinctly visible at midnight,
dotting the slope of a gentle eminence south-west of Podel-witz, and
extending nearly two miles from flank to flank.
In that somewhat apocryphal work, the Memoirs of a Cavalier, a long
conversation is introduced, as having taken place between the hero
and Sir John Hepburn, prior to the encounter at Leipzig. The meeting
took place in the tent of a Captain Gordon, when Hepburn is said
kindly to have placed his horses, servants, and equipage at the
disposal of this English volunteer, with whose father he had been
intimate. The conversation, which is related to have taken place
over such a supper as could be cooked at a camp fire, is somewhat
curious.
"I told him,” says the cavalier, "his care of me was so obliging,
that I knew not what return to make him; but if he pleased to leave
me my choice, I desired no greater favour than to trail a pike under
his command in the ensuing battle.”
"I could never answer for it to your father,” said Hepburn, "if I
thus suffered you to expose yourself so far.”
"My father will certainly acknowledge your friendship,” replied the
English volunteer; "and I am sure that he would ride five hundred
miles to be present in such a battle, under such a leader; but could
never be told that his son had ridden fifty to be out of it.”
"1 approve of your courage,” said Hepburn; "but remember no man gets
credit by running upon needless adventures, nor loses any by
shunning hazards which he hath no order to encounter. ’Tis enough
for a gentleman to behave well when he is commanded upon service; I
have had fighting enough upon these points of honour, and never got
aught for them but reproofs from Gustavus.”
"Sir John, if a man expects to rise by valour, he must show it
somewhere; and if I am to have a command in an army, I would first
endeavour to deserve it. I shall never have a better schoolmaster
than yourself or a better school than such an army as this.”
"Well,” continued Hepburn, "1 must tell you beforehand that this
will be a bloody encounter. Tilly has a strong army of old lads, who
are used to boxing fellows with faces of iron; and His a little too
much to engage so hotly at one's first entrance into the wars. We
never put our new soldiers into pitched battles for the first
campaign, but place them in garrisons, and there first try them in
skirmishes.”
"Sir,” replied the volunteer, "I mean not to make a trade of war,
and therefore need not serve an apprenticeship to it. ’Tis a hard
battle where none escape. If I come out safe I shall not disgrace
you; and if not, ’twill be some satisfaction for my father at home
to hear that his son died fighting under the command of Sir John
Hepburn, in the army of the great king of Sweden. I desire no better
epitaph on my tomb.”
In this remarkable work (which, though erroneous in many parts,
Harte, in his Life of Gustavus, considers veritable) everything is
related with an air of candour and truth which is very perplexing,
and almost impossible to mistake for genuine. Now it is generally
ascribed to Defoe.
Day broke, and the white mist was rising like a gauzy curtain from
the mighty plain of Leipzig or Breitenfeldt, on the morning of
Wednesday, the memorable 7th of September 1631, when, after prayers
had been said in front of every regiment, the whole forces of
Gustavus moved in good order towards the imperialists, on whose long
lines of burnished arms the rising sun was shining. The immediate
arena of the strife was called God's Acre, and was the same ground
on which the Emperor Charles V. overthrew the Elector of Saxony. The
occasional re-lighting of gun-matches, opening of pouches, and
springing of ramrods, gave stem token of what was about to ensue.
The Scottish brigades covered both the advance and rear of the
so-called Swedish army.
In the van were the Scottish regiments of Sir James Ramsay the
Black, the laird of Foulis, and Sir John Hamilton, who no sooner
crossed a small rivulet called the Lober, which ran through a
hollow, than they found themselves close upon the enemy.
Sir John Hepburn’s green Scotch brigade formed part of the reserve,
a post always occupied by the best troops of every army, as on their
decision and valour the victory so frequently depends. As senior
colonel, Hepburn commanded this column, which consisted of three
brigades; his own regiment carried four colours into the field that
day.
Field-Marshal Home, General Banier, and Lieutenant-General Bauditzen
commanded the cavalry; the King and Baron Teuffel, of Ginersdorf and
Weyersburg, led the main body of infantry.
Godt mit vs was the war-cry of the Swedes, a motto borne on all
their standards, which were fluttering in the strong west wind as
they advanced.
Sancta Maria was the watch-word of the Imperialists, whose helmets
were decorated by knots of white ribbands.
As the Swedish troops took up their ground, a great flock of birds,
which rose suddenly from among the long grass and furrows of the
fields, and flew towards Tilly’s lines, was viewed by each army as
an omen of victory. The Swedes occupied the right, and the Saxons
the left of the line, which advanced, as usual, with muskets
carried, matches lighted, drums beating, trumpets sounding, pikes
and colours advanced, and every cavalier and soldier wearing a
branch of laurel in his helmet.
Tilly’s troops were drawn up in close columns, according to the
ancient mode; one flank rested on Sohausen, the other on Lindenthal,
two miles distant. He commanded the centre himself, Count
Furstenberg the right wing, and Count Fappenheim the left. His
Walloon infantry were all intrenched behind a rampart flanked by two
batteries, mounting each twenty pieces of heavy cannon; one
commanded the Swedish approach in a direct line; the other enfiladed
the Saxons. In his rear lay a thick wood of dark autumnal trees,
where he proposed to rally in case of a defeat. The Imperial
cuirassiers, led by the Count de Furstenberg, were sheathed in
complete suits of armour, under which they wore coats of buff and
leather. Among them were the gaudy Italian cavalry and Cronenberg’s
horse, the flower of the empire, bearing on their standards the
Austrian eagle and Burgundian cross. These horse occupied the wings,
the infantry the centre. The regiment of Renconi was on the extreme
left of Tilly; a heavily mailed regiment of reformadoes occupied the
extreme right.
Here Gustavus introduced, with good effect, that now exploded order
of battle, which he had practised since the Polish war, by
chequering his horse and foot in alternate brigades: thus, in an old
plan of the field of Leipzig, we find that five hundred horse of the
King’s own regiment were drawn up between the Scottish corps of
Ramsay and Munro; and two thousand three hundred horse of the
Rhinegrave, Courland, and Livonia between the brigades of Sir John
Hepburn, Halle, Thum, and others.
In front of each brigade of his reserve, Hepburn posted twelve
pieces of cannon: there were four on the right flank of each
regiment, and immediately behind the colours.
Old John of Tsercla had a high opinion of the talents of Gustavus.
"The king of Sweden,” said he to the Diet at Ratisbon, "is alike
brave and prudent; his plans are excellent, his resources admirable;
his army, inured to war, is enthusiastically attached to him; and
though composed of Swedes and Germans, Scots and Livonians, is
blended into one’great nation, by devoted obedience to their
leader.”
Gustavus on this day was plainly attired, having a doublet of gray
cloth under his corslet; he wore a long green plume in his beaver,
and rode a spirited charger.
The vanguard of Scots, under Sir James Ramsay, the Black Colonel,
had no sooner crossed the Lober, than they were furiously charged by
a body of cuirassiers under Pappenheim, whom they repelled by dint
of pike and musket, and compelled to fall back on their main body,
previous to which they spitefully burned the small village of
Podelwitz.
After a destructive cannonade of two hours and a half, during which,
says the author of the Expedition, "our battailes of horse and foote
stood firme, like a wall, the cannon making great breaches amongst
us" a long line of steel was seen to glitter amid the white smoke,
and a strong column of Imperial Eeiters, with banners uplifted,
swords brandished, and helmets closed, poured like lightning into
the field, and, among clouds of chalky dust, which the galloping
hoofs set in motion, and a high wind rolled along the plain from
west to east, fell with the weight of a mountain upon the Swedish
and Finland cavalry, who unshaken received the shock, and steadily
repelled it. Again the Reiters charged, and again they were
repulsed.
Though nearly blinded by the smoke and dust, which entered the
openings of their helmets, they next poured all their fury upon the
Saxons, (the Swedish left,) and, after a hard contest, drove them
pell-mell across the plain, their cowardly Elector being the first
to quit the field, from which he rode ten miles without drawing
bridle. Five colonels, three lieutenant-colonels, and many other
Saxon officers were slain; for the lofty plumage in their helmets
made them conspicuous marks to the long swords of the elated
Imperialists, who hewed them down on every side, until the roll of
Hepburn’s drums, and the deadly fire of his Scottish ranks, arrested
their triumphant career, and stopped their cries of
"Victoria!—Victoria! Follow—follow!”
"Halt I” cried their leader, perceiving that the Saxons were too far
off, and the Scottish regiments were fast approaching; “let us beat
these curs, and then all Germany is our own!”
Observing that the Saxons were lost, and that Count Tilly in person
was preparing to charge the Swedes and Livonians at the head of his
main body, Gustavus had selected two thousand musketeers of “the
brave Scots nation,” says the old account of Leipzig, (published
soon after,) and placed two thousand horse on their flanks. "The
Scottish officers formed their men into divisions of six or seven
hundred each,” with their three front ranks kneeling, and the three
rear standing upright, but all giving fire together, and pouring so
much lead among these formidable Reiters, that their ranks were
broken, and, by a charge of the Swedish horsemen, they were
completely routed.
The flight of the Saxons having exposed his left flank, Gustavus
sent Baron Teuffel, colonel of the Foot Guards, to see how matters
stood there; for the smoke and dust were so dense, that he could
discern nothing at his post in the centre. But the baron, as he
dashed at full gallop across the corpse-strewn plain, was shot dead
by a random bullet, that pierced his mail of proof like a gossamer
web. Greeted with cries of vivat! from the soldiers, Gustavus rode
with all speed along the line, to seek succour from Hepburn, whom he
commanded to advance.
The latter immediately ordered the brigades of horse on his right
and left flanks to "wheel—form column of squadrons—and advance to
the charge!” while his own brigade, and half of Vitzdam’s corps,
marched, as fast as their cumbrous buff and iron trappings would
permit, from the rear of the centre to that left flank which the
Saxons had so shamefully abandoned; but before this oblique movement
was executed) the Imperialists, led by the savage John of Tsercla,
(rendered prominent by his conical hat and red feather,) were
arrived within pistol-shot.
The din of the volleying musketry between the adverse lines was now
tremendous, and drowned the lesser roar of calivers and pistolettes,
while the deep hoarse boom of the Swedish carthouns replied to the
culverins, falcons, and serpents of the Imperialists, which made
terrible gaps in the close ranks as they swept from right to left.
“Here it was that the Scottish regiments first practised firing in
platoons,” says Harte; "which amazed the Imperialists to such a
degree, that they hardly knew how to conduct themselves.”
In full armour, with laurel in his helmet, sword in hand, and
conspicuous on his richly caparisoned horse, Sir John Hepburn, who
outshone all the army in the splendour of his military trappings,
led on his Scots brigade ; and then came the bloodiest encounter of
that well-fought field.
His Scots advanced in dense columns, with the pikemen in front,
while behind were three ranks stooping and three erect, giving thus
six volleys at once from the faces of their squares, and pouring in
their shot over each other’s helmets like a hail-storm, mowing down
the shrinking enemy even as grass is mown by the scythe; and so they
swept on, until so close to the Austrians that the very colour of
their eyes was visible, when Hepburn gave the order,— "Forward
pikes!”
In a moment the old Scottish weapon was levelled to the charge, the
musketeers clubbed their muskets, and, with a loud cheer, the
regiments of Hepburn, Lumsden, and Lord Reay, each led by its
colonel, burst through the columns of Tilly, driving them back in
irredeemable confusion, and with frightful slaughter.
The brave Highlanders of Lord Reay formed the leading column of the
Green Brigade, and had the honour of first breaking the Austrian
ranks. They were a thousand strong, composed of that noble’s own
immediate clansmen; and the Imperialists regarded them with terror,
calling them the invincible old Regiment} and the right hand of
Gustavus Adolphus.
Led by Munro, the right wing of the brigade carried the trenches of
the Walloon infantry, stormed the breastworks at push of pike, and
captured the cannon, cutting to pieces the gunners, and
exterminating their guards. The slaughter would have been greater,
and scarcely a man of those columns assailed by Hepburn would have
escaped, but the ground where they fought being dry and parched, and
having been recently ploughed, the dust raised from it by the stormy
west wind mingled with the smoke of the contest, and favoured the
tumultuous retreat of the enemy. "We were as in a dark cloud,” says
Munro graphically, "not seeing half our actions, much less
discerning either the way of our enemies or the rest of our
brigades; whereupon, having a drummer by me, I caused him beat The
Scots March till it cleared up, which recollected our friends unto
us.” This old national air, which was the terror of the Spaniards in
Holland, and of the Austrians in Germany —so much so, that it was
frequently beaten by the drums of the Dutch at night when they
wished to keep their quarters unmolested, was first composed for the
ancient guard of James V., when marching to attack the castle of
Tantallon in 1527.
When Hepburn with his single brigade was advancing against the main
body of Tilly, Gustavus had ordered the Blue Brigade to succour him;
but ere its arrival his men were victorious, and the Imperialists
were in full flight, pursued by the Swedish dragoons. In every part
of the field success attended the banners of Gustavus; but he lost
his baggage, which was plundered by the cowardly Saxons in their
flight.
In this great battle the Scots won the greatest honour, particularly
that brigade led by Hepburn. So spirited was the resistance, that
some regiments charged fifteen times; and to their bold advance and
headlong valour Gustavus ascribed the fortune of the day. The Green
Brigade was publicly thanked in front of the whole army, and
promised noble rewards, as we are told by Colonel Munro, who
modestly adds:
"The battaile thus happily wonne, his Majesty did principally under
God ascribe the glory of the (first) victory to the Swedes and
Fynnes horsemen, who were led by the valorous Fieldt-Marshall
Gustavus Horne; for though the Dutch horsemen did behave themselves
valourously divers times that day, yet it was not their fortune to
put the enemy to flight; and though there were brave brigadds of
Sweds and Dutch in the field, yet it was the Scots brigade fortune
to have gotten the praise for the foote service, and not without
cause, having behaved themselves well, being led and conducted by an
expert cavalier and fortunat—the valiant Hepburne.”
Colonel Lumsden was wounded early in the action; three colonels of
horse, four lieutenant-colonels, a number of rittmasters, captains
and subalterns, with three hundred soldiers, were slain; but Tilly
lost the gallant Lerma, his aide-de-camp, Marshal Count Furstenberg,
the Duke of Holstein, Sergeant-Major Count Schomberg, the Marquis de
Gonzaga, and seven thousand soldiers, (the Intelligencer states
fifteen thousand,) dead on the field, which presented a terrible
spectacle when Hepburn’s brigade advanced over it; for the corpses
lay in some places piled over each other chin deep,—an appalling
rampart, mingled with rent and bloody armour, torn standards,
dismounted cannon, broken drums, dying horses, and all the frightful
debris of a desperate conflict.
Besides all the tents and camp equipage, sixty waggons and
thirty-two pieces of cannon (fourteen great carthouns, and eighteen
eight and ten pounders) were taken —the latter by Munro, with
Hepburn’s right wing. The venerable Tilly, severely wounded,
continued his flight with a few regiments, which, favoured by the
dust, the smoke, and the descending night, escaped. The Swedish
troops occupied the Imperial tents, and made more than merry with
the good Rhenish wine and Flemish beer which they found in the
stores of the Sutlers and Fourriers. The Scots made great bonfires
of the broken waggons and tumbrils, the shattered stockades and
pikes, which strewed the field; and the red glow of these, as they
blazed on the plains of Leipzig, glaring on the glistening mail and
upturned faces of the dead, were visible to the retreating
Imperialists as they marched towards the Weser.
No valour ever surpassed that of the gallant old Tilly. Pierced by
three bullets, once taken prisoner, and only rescued after a
desperate conflict, and doing all that mortal courage could achieve,
the soldier-priest burst into a passion of tears on beholding the
slaughter of his soldiers, and finding that the field, after a five
hours struggle, was lost by the advance of Hepburn. Cronenberg and
six hundred Walloon cavalry threw themselves around him, and bore
him off.
Instead of encamping, had Gustavus pushed on at the head of his
victorious army, and driven the discomfited Tilly to the gates of
Vienna, the most important results must have ensued; and he could
have dictated his own terms to an Emperor who both feared and
dispised him; for the result of Leipzig struck a terror on the
Catholic league, and opened up an avenue to the very heart of the
Empire; but the occasion was lost; and though, like Hannibal,
Gustavus knew how to conquer, he knew not how to use his conquest in
this instance.
Such was the great battle of Leipzig, the most important field of
the fifty years before. A hundred standards were taken; but every
company of foot usually bore one in those days, which accounts for
the vast number that were displayed in the Riddarholm Kirche at
Stockholm, where, until 1839, five thousand banners were hung as the
trophies of the German wars.
Colonels Lumsden, Mostyn, and Munro, Majors Monipenny and Sinclair,
with many other cavaliers of merit, were promoted and rewarded for
their bravery in that day’s victory, which Gustavus had won "with
the helpe of the nation that never was conquered by a forraine
enemy—the invincible Scots.”
As the gloom of the autumnal night deepened on the plain, the
distant reports from the petronels and pistolettes of the pursuing
dragoons, which had succeeded the roar of the battle, died away; but
the alarm bells of the surrounding villages tolled incessantly, the
whole peasantry were astir, and as instant death betided the
Austrian soldier who fell into their hands, nearly all the wounded
and the weary perished. |