On a bright morning in
the beginning of March, Hepburn’s brigade marched from Mentz for
Frankfort Their aspect was changed since they had entered that city,
with their harness dinted by many a battle, and rusted by the winter
storms, by long bivouacking in fields and ditches, rarely in tents
or cantonments. Their armour and accoutrements were now all polished
till they shone like silver in the spring sunshine, as with their
green silk standards unfurled, and their drums beating and tall
pikes glittering, the three regiments of the brigade crossed the
Rhine by the pontoon bridge. Lord Reay’s kilted Highlanders, with
pipes playing and matches lighted, formed the leading column of the
brigade, which, conform to his orders, Hepbum marched straight to
Frankfort on the Maine. From thence they advanced in one day to
Aschaffenburg, more than thirty miles distant,—a long march, when
the weight of the morions and corslets, muskets and accoutrements,
of the soldiers is considered.
Reay bad several pipers, only one of whom survived in 1635, when the
Green Brigade entered France.
In the fields before that place the brigade was reviewed on the 6th
March, by Gustavus, the fugitive king of Bohemia, and the Marquis of
Hamilton, attended by all the cavaliers and men of rank who
accompanied the court.
Crossing the Maine by a stately bridge of stone, Hepburn’s column
wound on its way among the fields that border the Aschaff, under the
shelter of a wooded mountain; and next morning, before the dawn was
glinting on the red spires of the Electoral Palace, commenced the
march towards Bavaria, which the King had resolved to invade, and
clear of the Imperialists.
Passing through Lohr and Gemunden, two towns on the Maine, Hepburn
halted for the night of the 7th March at Karlstadt, on the Bavarian
frontier, and twelve miles distant from Ramsay’s garrison at
Wurtzburg. There thirty-six troops of horse, led by the Duke of
Saxe-Weimar, joined him.
On the 8th, after traversing those fertile districts that border on
the great river which forms the Franconian boundary, he halted in
the Bailliwick of Dettelbach, and formed a junction with the main
army under the King.
On the 9th they marched again, leaving their quarters in flames
behind them, an accident for which the Scottish regiment of
Alexander, lord Spynie (called Lord Spence in mistake by Munro,) was
blamed by the King. That night they were cantoned in their old
quarters at Oxenford, and on the 10th at Weinsheim. The season was
now spring; the air was mild, the country rich and fertile,
affording the soldiers plenty of food and good wine.
There, on the banks of the Aisch, the Green Brigade were again
reviewed by Gustavus and the Bohemian king, who complimented the
gallant Hepburn on the fine appearance and distinguished bravery of
his soldiers. The latter naturally admired in others those qualities
in which he was so deficient, and had a deep interest in the
Scottish troops, as being the countrymen of Elizabeth Stuart, his
beautiful and high-spirited queen. There were twenty thousand horse
and foot on the ground that day, with all their cannon, baggage, and
caissons.
After this review the whole poured on towards Bavaria, defeating, as
they advanced, the same general who had formerly been captured by
the Scottish Colonel Edmond, the great Count de Bucquoi, who was
severely wounded, and retreated with the loss of one hundred and
ninety- six of his soldiers killed and captured. Then pressing on,
the army hoped to encounter their old antagonist the Count Tilly,
who, after. repulsing Marshal Home, and capturing Bamberg, had
retired towards the granite mountains that overlook the green plains
of the Danube.
While the King continued advancing, the Rex-Chancellor Oxenstiera,
who had remained with a strong force to guard his conquests on the
Rhine, repelled the Spaniards, who had again crossed the Moselle
with the intention of relieving Frankenthal. The Chancellor and Duke
Bernard of Weimar advanced against them, and a sharp encounter
ensued. The Dutch, who formed the Chancellor’s first column, here
resorted to their old ruse of beating the Scottish March as they
approached the glittering dines of the Spanish arcabuziers, whose
steady fire soon threw them into disorder, and, on being charged,
they fled en masse.
Immediately upon this, the Scottish regiment of Sir Ludovick Leslie
and the battalion of Sir John Ruthven, whose officers “were all
valiant Scots, Lievtennant-Colonell John Lesly, Major Lyell,
Captaine David King, and divers other resolute cavaliers" fell on
with sword and levelled pike, and drove the Spaniards before them
headlong in confusion. So furious was their charge, and so complete
the victory, that the Psatzgrave Christian, in applauding their
conduct, declared to the Chancellor of Sweden, in front of the whole
line, “that had it not been for the valour of that Scots Briggad,”
the day would have been lost, and the Spaniards victorious.
On the 26th March, Gustavus displayed his banners before Donauworth,
where he was joined by the Laird of Foulis, with his two regiments
of horse and foot.
In a fertile district, where in summer the yellow corn, the
light-green vine, and the broad-leaved tobacco plant cover the hills
with their luxuriance, stands Donauwdrth, the key to Swabia, and
the, capital of a Bavarian bailliwick, guarded by a fortified
mountain, the Schellemberg. Strong by its ditches and embattled
walls, the town guarded the passage of the Danube, where a toll was
paid by all who passed the bridge; and Rodolph Maximilian, duke of
Saxe-Lauenburg, (the same gallant noble whose strength and courage
rescued Tilly at Leipzig,) occupied the city with two thousand two
hundred men— twelve hundred being Austrian infantry, five hundred
Cronenberg’s horse, and five hundred the trained bands of Bavaria.
With these Rodolph had resolved that, without paying toll by the
lives of his bravest soldiers, Gustavus should never pass that
far-famed river.
Night was descending, and the lofty precipices—which are covered
with drooping pines, and crowned with feudal castles, (ruined now,
but then in the noon of their strength and pride,) the seats of
those German tyrants of the middle ages, whose avarice, brutality,
and reckless disregard of right and wrong are so vividly pourtrayed
by Froissart—were growing dark as the Swedish army approached the
rocky shores of this deep and rapid river, whose waters, from their
source in the recesses of the Black Forest to their confluence with,
the Black Sea, traverse nearly two thousand miles, “whose waves have
witnessed the march of Attila, and whose shores have echoed to the
blast of the Boman trumpet, the hymn of the Crusader, and the wild
haloo of the sons of Islam.”
The roar of the thundering river (for such its name imports it to
be) was now lost in the deeper din of the artillery with which Duke
Bodolph greeted the army of Gustavus, who posted a strong force on
the height which overhung the town, and lay between it and the
Danube. The Bavarian troops, who occupied a partly-erected fort on
the summit, retired into the town through a gallery as the Swedes
approached.
This fort was without cannon. At its base lay a handsome suburban
street, which, led straight to a gate of the town. In this suburb
Gustavus posted five hundred musketeers to prevent a sortie, while
on the hill-side his pioneers worked the whole night, without a
moment’s cessation, and by daybreak on the morning of the 27th had
completed a twenty-gun battery, which was guarded by a body of
infantry under the Scottish captain Semple. These cannon were
pointed in such a manner, that, when firing in unison with the
musketeers in the suburbs below, they swept the walls of the town on
one hand, and flanked the whole bridge of the Danube on the other.
A trumpeter was sent to demand a surrender. "The king Gustavus,"
replied the gallant Rodolph, "knoweth better than any man living the
duty of men who have nothing to rely on but their honour and the
point of the sword. We have no tribute to pay, except in gunpowder.”
On this the battery opened, and there ensued, on both sides, a
cannonade which lasted the whole day. The Swedes fired principally
upon a long stone edifice, which stood close by the river side, and
was occupied by two troops of Cronenberg’s horse, and a company of
infantry. The walls were rent, the roof dashed in, and many were
slain before the place was abandoned, after which the whole fury of
the cannonade was poured upon the gates of the town. Night came on
dark and cloudy, but still the boom of the cannon continued without
intermisision, and the troops remained in their ranks, watchful and
on the alert.
It was fortunate they did so; for, favoured by the gloom and
obscurity of the smoke that had settled on the dark bosom of the
Danube, a troop of Cronenberg’s Reiters, in full armour, rode softly
to the town gate, and, issuing out at full speed, cut a passage
through the musketeers in the suburb. Galloping up the hill, they
fell sword in hand upon the artillery, most of which they spiked;
and, after cutting to pieces the guard under Captain Semple, retired
at a furious gallop down the declivity and into the town, the gates
of which were again closed upon their entrance.
Semple was put under arrest; but being in no way to blame, was
pardoned at the intercession of several Scottish general officers.
The acute and able Hepburn now advised Gustavus "to consider the
situation of the town with fresh attention,” pointing out to him "an
angle of the ground to the westward, formed by the influx of the
Wernitz into the Danube, which angle commanded the bridge that
crossed the river and led to Bavaria.”
Immediately on receiving this advice, Gustavus, perceiving its
value, with thanks ordered him to take possession of that point with
his brigade, for he knew the service was one of importance, as it
would flank the bridge, and cut off all means of relief and retreat
from the garrison of Rodolph.
Drawing off his brigade with its field-pieces, Hepburn, after
marching for five miles up the Danube, crossed the river at the
bridge of Hasfort, and descended on the opposite bank until he came
opposite Donauworth, on the Swabian shore, where, with the utmost
silence and precision, about midnight, he posted his cannon in such
a manner as to sweep, point-blank, the whole length of the bridge.
He then placed the musketeers of the brigade, in platoons of one
hundred each, behind the garden walls and hedges of a suburb that
faced the river, all posted admirably; so that, while their fires
crossed each other, they all bore directly upon the bridge of* the
Danube and the western gate of Donauworth. The pikemen were drawn up
in three close columns on the roadway, each having the drums and
colours of their battalion in the centre. These preparations were
scarcely completed when the enemy became alarmed, and resolved to
give this active young brigadier an alert.
Either the clank of armour had been heard by the Bavarians, or they
had seen the masses of men moving amid the obscurity on the Swabian
side of the river, for Duke Bodolph, finding his retreat cut off,
while the March morning was yet cold and dark, sallied boldly out at
the head of eight hundred musketeers.
"Open pans, musketeers—give fire!” cried Hepburn, as the dark column
debouched upon the bridge.
The firearms flashed redly over the stone walls and through the
budding hedgerows, and, pouring a leaden storm along the bridge,
swept it from end to end; the field-pieces belched forth, and their
redder glow gleamed on the rapid Danube as their discharges made so
many distinct lanes through the approaching Bavarians, who fell into
immediate disorder and precipitately retired, leaving the way strewn
with u dead bodyes, which even covered the most part of the bridge,
and foulely encumbered the whole passage of it.”
More rashly courageous than his soldiers, the gallant Duke of Saxe-Lauenberg,
escaping the cannon and musketry, dashed spurs into his horse, and,
sword in hand, cut a passage through the pikemen, and escaped,
leaving his garrison to its fate.
While the artillery now opened against Donauworth upon the opposite
side, and the rapid roar of fireartns announced that Gustavus had
assailed the gate called the Lederthor, Hepburn, ever the first in
the breach and the foremost in the charge, put spurs to his horse,
and crying u Advance pikemen!—forward musketeers! ” led them across
the corpse-heaped bridge, and, entering with the fugitives,
penetrated into the very heart of the town, fighting on, amid
bristling pikes and the incessant flashes of arquebuses and muskets,
levelled from every roof and window on his Scottish ranks; while the
sullen boom of the Swedish artillery, which echoed with a thousand
reverberations among the beetling cliffs that overhung the river,
has been likened by more than one writer to the sound of thunder
among their peaks.
“The night was dark, and the thick mist allowed Naught to be seen
save the artillery's flame, Which arched the horizon like a fiery
cloud, And in the Danube’s waters shone the same."
"A mirrored hell! the volleying roar and loud Long booming of each
peal on peal, o’ercame The ear far more than thunder; for Heaven’s
flashes Spare, or smite rarely.”
Prodigal of life, and heedless who were slain, if some survived for
glory and Gustavus, the brigade poured into Donauworth, led by
Hepburn, who was ably seconded by Major Sidserf of Ramsay’s
regiment— "a cavalier both prudent and valorous.” Four hundred
Bavarians were slain, and as many more were taken captive in the
passage of the bridge. Many poor Jesuits and monks fell in the
confusion among the soldiers, and were killed.
Amid the grey twilight of the dawning day, the conflict and
slaughter with sword, pike, and bullet, continued in the streets,
which were encumbered by the heavily-laden baggage-waggons of the
Bavarians and Austrians, an immense number of whom were drowned in
the Danube, into which they recklessly threw themselves. Five
hundred more were cut down before quarter was granted by the excited
Scots, who had thus made themselves masters of the key to Swabia
before Gustavus and his Swedes had even achieved the passage of the
Leathergate.
"Sir John Hepbume being thus gotten in,” says the editor of the
Intelligencer, "and having first cut in pieces all resistance, his
souldiours fall immediately to plundering, when many a gold chaine,
with much other plate and treasure of the enemie, were made prize
of.” Gustavus gave strict orders that nothing should be pillaged but
the baggage of the Bavarians, a thousand of whom took service under
his standard, and then deserted in ten days after.
At sunrise, when the uproar and carnage of the assault were over,
the King sent for Hepburn. Through streets encumbered with rifled
waggons, dismounted cannon, broken drums and arms, and terrified
citizens wandering wildly among dead and dying soldiers—through
whose coats of buff and iron the blood was running to the swollen
gutters that crimsoned the Danube—he made his way to a handsome
house which had escaped the cannon-shot, and where he found Gustavus
with Frederick of Bohemia, the long-bearded Augustus of Psalzbach,
and other men of rank, resting from the fatigues of the past night,
with their armour unbuckled, and flagons of cool Rhenish before
them.
In their presence Gustavus thanked him for his good service,
ascribing the whole honour of the capture to his courage and good
counsel in outflanking the town by the Hasfort bridge, and for
having achieved that desperate service with so little loss.
In modest silence Hepburn received this tribute of praise, and
immediately repaired to his brigade, which was ordered to recross
the Danube, and throw up a strong half-moon at the foot of the
bridge, the post of danger, and close by the battered building in
which Cronenberg’s Reiters had been so severely cannonaded. |