Destined to take a
brilliant part in subduing the circle of Franconia, Hepburn’s
brigade marched with the army through the famous forest of Thuringia
to Erfurt, capturing its strong citadel, which from an eminence
looks down on a vale, where the bright blue waters of the Gera wound
between masses of the darkest forest scenery.
Here Gustavus broke his army into columns. Appointing Wurtzburg as
the place of rendezvous, while he retained to himself the route by
Konighausen, he directed Lieutenant-General Bauditzen, with Hepburn
as his brigadier-general, to cross the Vault, and make a circuit by
the way of Neustadt, with orders to bring all the districts through
which they marched under contribution. He left the Count of
Lowenstien governor of Erfurt, with a garrison consisting of the
Laird of Foulis’ regiment fifteen hundred strong, while those of the
Colonels Munro, Forbes, and Mitzval, with Courville’s troopers, were
quartered in the wild district of Thuringia to overawe it, in
addition to a regiment of horse raised by the Laird of Foulis, in
obedience to a letter of service given him by Ernest, duke of
Weimar.
After a minute inspection of arms and armour, Gustavus proceeded
through that wooded district, the beautiful country of Thuringia,
which lies between Saxony and Franconia, once an independent state,
but now divided among a host of pauper princelings, a land of wild
forests and ruined castles, with the blue Hartz mountains in the
distance.
The column of Hepburn and Bauditzen, after marching a hundred and
eleven miles, by roads of the worst description, in seven days,
captured six large towns, and on the eighth made the embattled
towers of Wiirtzburg echo to the old Scots march, as the advanced
guard of the Green Brigade came in front of that fortress and formed
a junction with the troops of the king.
Marching by the banks of the Maine, which sweeps through a district
of hills covered with the richest forest scenery and terraced
vineyards, Neustadt, Milerstadt, Gemund, Carlstadt, and many other
large and populous places, had been by beat of drum brought under
heavy contribution by Bauditzen—a soldier who was brave as a lion
but rapacious as a Jew. He received fifty thousand silver dollars,
but, putting the whole in his own pocket, never paid a stiver to Sir
John Hepburn or the other officers under his command. “Indeed,”
according to Harte, “they would not have taken it; but, when the
king heard the story, he thought proper to remove him to a more
remote command in Pomerania.” To amass this money, Bauditzen took
bribes from every burgomaster who paid for relief from “inquartering;”
and thus the soldiers, instead of being comfortably billeted in the
towns and villages, were bivouacked at night in the open fields and
on the hard dusty roadways, with no other covering than their iron
panoplies, and no other pillows than their knapsacks and swords.
Hepburn’s brigade approached Franconia’s capital by the base of
those steep hills that are skirted by the dark blue Maine, and found
that Gustavus, on the preceding day, had entered the city in peace,
according to terms he had granted to Father Ogilvie, a venerable
priest of the Scottish cloister, who had visited him on behalf of
the bishop and terrified burghers, in whose name he surrendered the
keys to him as the Protestant conqueror.
Though this rich and populous city was so easily won, all the valour
of Gustavus’ Scottish auxiliaries was required to gain for him the
castle of Marienburg, which overlooked it, and from whence a
resolute garrison began a destructive and incessant cannonade the
moment his troops came Within gunshot. Situated amidst a fertile
plain, and protected from the north winds by a lofty chain of
verdant hills, that in summer are covered with purple vineyards,
this city belonged to the bishop, who was styled Duke of Franconia.
Lord of four hundred villages and fifteen thousand soldiers, his
power was supreme in temporal as well as in spiritual matters; and,
when mass was said, a sword lay before him on the altar, but it
remained undrawn at the approach of Gustavus, who took up his
quarters in the palace behind the cathedral.
Hepburn and his comrades knew well that this stately edifice was
dedicated to a Scottish saint, and the cavalier Munro boasted that
“a Scotsman first brought the Christian religion into Franconia, but
was evil rewarded, being murdered there.”
In the year 688, three of the Scottish Culdees—viz., St Kilian the
bishop, Colman the priest, and Totnan the deacon, left the mountains
of northern Caledonia, being authorised by Pope Conon (who had
assumed the purple two years before) to preach the gospel among the
German idolaters of Franconia. These missionaries converted and
baptised many at Wiirtzburg, and among them Gospert, duke of that
country. This barbarian lord had espoused Geilana, the relict of his
deceased brother; and, though he tenderly loved her, on being
reminded by St Elian that the marriage was obnoxious to the Church,
he promised to dismiss her. Fired with jealousy and rage, on her
husband marching to repel an invasion of the infidel Saxons, the
Pagan lady ordered the three pious missionaries to be slain by
ruffians, who (according to Alban Butler) u were pursued by divine
vengeance, and all perished miserably.”
Local tradition avers that they were carried off by the devil; and a
hole in the wall through which he bore them away is yet shown by the
burghers. The bodies of the three Scots were thrown into a well,
where, according to the same veritable account, they remained for
years without decomposing. So lately as 1713, the remains of St
Kilian were preserved in the treasury of Brunswick Liineburg; and
when the Scottish troops were at Wiirtzburg, there was yet remaining
on the Kreutzberg (or mountain of the cross) a gigantic emblem of
the Redemption, erected by the hands of St Elian.
The Imperial garrison, understanding that Tilly had collected his
scattered forces, formed a junction with the Duke of Lorraine, and,
burning with a desire of avenging his wounds at Leipzig, was
marching from the Weser to their relief, resolved on a vigorous
defence of the Marienburg, which occupies an eminence, and, with its
grim fortifications and church, is the first object that arrests the
eye on entering Wiirtzburg. The communication with the latter they
destroyed, by blowing up the principal arch of an ancient bridge
that crossed the Maine. The passage of the river was swept by all
their ordnance; and Captain Keller, the Austrian commandant, with
one thousand men, made every preparation to fight to the last.
All the nuns of the city had fled to him for protection from the
heretic king, and there was also a strong band of friars who had
buckled on armour in the Catholic cause. Being considered
inaccessible, the whole wealth of the surrounding country was stored
up in this fortress, which possessed a noble arsenal and strong
bastions. In one of the courts there sprang a fountain, which shot
the water two hundred fathoms high. In the cellars of the bishop
were sixty gigantic tuns of stone, the least of which would have
held twenty-five waggon loads of wine. Some were filled with liquor
a hundred years old. Monconys, an old author, says the castle was
every way strong by nature and art. Its architecture had all the
aspect of a magnificent Gothic palace, flanked with four towers, and
surrounded by a deep moat hewn in the solid rock. One side of the
hill on which it stood was covered with vines, the other with steep
rocks.
Inspired by rumours of the vast wealth, the ocean of rich wine, and
the priceless library of the Jesuits, stored up in this stately
stronghold, the troops of Gustavus prepared with alacrity to carry
it by storm—a duty which his gallant Scottish regiments essayed with
their usual fortune, though the castellan—"a brave good fellow, who
mortally hated all Protestants and their religion”— believed that
none could reach him unless they had wings as well as weapons. In
this service Hepburn’s friend, Sir James Ramsay, bore a
distinguished part.
His orders being to take the place at all risks, as Tilly and the
Duke of Lorraine were advancing to its relief, and were only three
days’ march off, Ramsay resolved to make the attack from two
quarters, and sent a Lieutenant Robert Ramsay of his regiment to
borrow a few boats from the peasantry. Though the lieutenant spoke
German as well as his native Scottish, and was disguised, a richly
laced vest which he wore below his doublet excited suspicion, and he
was delivered up to Captain Keller, who made him a close prisoner.
Nothing could be more hazardous than the approach to Marienburg. Its
heaviest cannon swept the entire length of the shattered bridge,
which by six arches crossed the Maine, where it was three hundred
paces in breadth. Though sixty men abreast could march along the
bridge, but one at a time might pass the plank that was laid across
the broken arch; and by this frail passage over a deep fierce
current that rolled eight-and-forty feet below, the undaunted
Scottish infantry advanced to the assault on the 5th October.
A storm of cannon-shot raked the parapets of the bridge; while the
musketry and heavier arquebuses-a-croc swept the whole line of the
passage and the terrible chasm that yawned mid-way, and which was so
deep that some soldiers declared “they would rather have marched up
to a cannon’s mouth than passed it.” While Sir James Ramsay and Sir
John Hamilton, with the main body of their regiments, crossed the
river in small boats, exposed to a cannonade which lashed and tore
the water into foam, but always luckily missed them—for the Scots
enveloped themselves in a cloud of smoke as they fired upwards—Major
Bothwell, (of Ramsay’s,) a cadet of the family of Holyroodhouse,
with a few picked soldiers, advanced by the bridge, and rushing
across the plank, opened such a brisk fire upon the lower works,
that their comrades were enabled to effect a landing from the river.
This terrible duty was performed with the greatest resolution; but
Major Bothwell and his brother were both shot dead at the very gorge
of the tate-du-pont: and most of their party perished with them.
Making a sally at the head of his pikemen and musketeers, Keller now
endeavoured to repel the Scots and hurl them into the Maine, but
without success; they formed on the river side, and made a decisive
lodgment, in spite of all opposition, by mere strength of arm,
driving the Imperialists up the rocky hill, and into a halfmoon
battery which overlooked the stream. Gustavus, who from a ruined
archway was observing these movements, narrowly escaped a ball from
a culverin, which hurled the masonry about him; almost at the same
moment the top of his left gauntlet was carried away by one arquebus
shot, while another pierced his buff coat and wounded him in the
breast. The Scottish troops having thus effected a lodgment on the
Bouth side of Maine, being protected by the rocks and bushes from
the enemy’s fire, bivouacked for the night in their armour, with
swords unsheathed and matches lit.
Expecting every moment to hear the trumpets of Tilly’s dragoons,
Gustavus, who had strengthened the plank which crossed the river,
and made it passable, prepared to storm the place at push of pike.
The first grey streak of dawn was brightening in the east, when “a
certane Leiftenant of Liefland (borne of Scottish parents) comming
in the darke (with onely seven men at that instant behind him) unto
the drawbridge that entered into the forehoff, or outter court of
the castle,” to his surprise found the drawbridge down; but the
sentinels of a guard two hundred strong, which kept the barrier,
demanded, "in the forme usual among souldiers" 'Was vor voUcs?’ what
are you for, men? "Sweden" cried the Scoto-Swede, upon which the
Imperial guard rushed to the counterpoise to draw up the bridge; but
the brave lieutenant and his seven men sprang upon it and kept it
down, until a few companies of Swedes came up, and, driving in the
guard, took possession of the outer court.
At the same instant, the gleam of sixteen brass cannon reddened the
bosom of the river, and a roar of musketry announced that the
regiments of Ramsay and Hamilton had commenced their assault on the
strong half-moon, which, after a two hours9 struggle, they valiantly
carried by storm, driving the Imperialists headlong into the inner
works. The forlorn hope was principally composed of officers, each
of whom was armed with a partisan, and carried a pair of loaded
pistols in his swordbelt. Sir James Ramsay’s left arm was broken by
a bullet, yet he disdained to quit the strife, though he resigned
the more active command to Hamilton, a cavalier of equal bravery.
The moment the Scots obtained possession of the halfmoon—an arduous
task, as they had to fight and clamber at the same moment, while the
Austrian bullets rattled among their helmets, corslets, and
muskets—they rushed to the inner platforms, which were heaped with
corpses, and slippery with blood and brains, where they wheeled
round the cannon, and fired several times upon the strong and
gigantic gate of the keep, from the battlements and four towers of
which the musketeers of Keller were pouring down a shower of death;
and, in the gloom of the October morning, the flashes of their
fire-arms seemed to wreath the old donjon-tower as with a ridge of
fire.
The gate was soon beaten down, and the Scots were about to advance
at push of pike into the heart of the place, when Gustavus ordered
them to halt and retire, sending on the Swedish regiment of Axel
Lily and the Blue Brigade to perform this service—an affront which
the Scottish troops, whose valour had thus hewn out a passage for
them, never forgot or forgave; and none felt it more deeply, and
afterwards resented it more keenly, than Sir John Hepburn.
Against these fresh troops the gallant Keller made a spirited
resistance, but was captured at last after a furious personal
contest; for, sheathed in mail of proof, he made sharp use of his
long rapier, until disarmed of it. Leonard Tortensohn, general of
the artillery, protected him on condition that he would show the
secret vault in the castle rock wherein the plate and treasures of
the bishoprick were hidden.
“Magdeburg quarter! give them Magdeburg quarter!” were the cries by
which the Swedes animated each other to slay; and the destruction of
human life, before resistance ceased, was great. All the nuns were
conveyed under a guard of pikes into the city; but not less than
twenty friars were found in armour among the slain. All these men
fell fighting bravely for the Catholic faith, according to one
author; for their wine and their wealth, according to anotherand
"had their crownes (poore men) new shaven with a sword instead of a
razor,” adds the editor of the Swedish Intelligencer. One poor old
Capuchin was slain unarmed in the confusion.
Thirty-four brass cannon were taken, and the treasures found were
enormous. A rittmaster of Austrian horse revealed a chest of ducats
that might have ransomed a king. "Many a hundred wayne load of wine
there was, and victuals enough for twenty yeeres’ provision for such
a garrison. Some two hundred Swedish lost their lives upon the
service; all the defendants being either slain or taken prisoners.”
While the king found a valuable prize in the library of the Jesuits,
which he sent to Upsala, his soldiers had a more agreeable one in
the vast wine tons of the bishop, where they helped themselves
liberally, using their helmets for lack of other vessels.
Indignant that the Swedish troops had been permitted to storm the
keep through that very path which the Scottish pikes had cleared for
them, the moment the place was taken Colonel Sir John Hamilton
advanced to Gustavus and resigned his commission on the spot. The
king endeavoured to excuse himself, on the plea that he had wished
“to preserve his brave Scots;” but their fiery leader would admit of
no delay or apology, and, though earnestly pressed to remain,
sheathed his sword on the instant, abandoning the Swedish standard,
as a lesson (says an old writer) to all those princes who were
served by cavaliers of fortune to respect the good service rendered
them by the Scottish nation.
For his bravery Sir James Ramsay received a grant of lands in the
duchy of Mecklenburg, with the government of Hanau, a city taken by
the SwedeB in 1631.
Major Bothwell and his brother were interred with all honour in the
cathedral church of St Kilian the Scot; and with their obsequies
closed the service of the Green Brigade at Wiirtzburg. |