So bad an understanding between the nation and the candidate for the
throne, would have raised a storm even in the most peaceable succession;
how much more so at the present moment, before the ardour of
insurrection had cooled; when the nation had just recovered its dignity,
and reasserted its rights; when they still held arms in their hands, and
the consciousness of unity had awakened an enthusiastic reliance on
their own strength; when by past success, by the promises of foreign
assistance, and by visionary expectations of the future, their courage
had been raised to an undoubting confidence.  Disregarding the rights
already conferred on Ferdinand, the Estates declared the throne vacant,
and their right of election entirely unfettered.  All hopes of their
peaceful submission were at an end, and if Ferdinand wished still to
wear the crown of Bohemia, he must choose between purchasing it at the
sacrifice of all that would make a crown desirable, or winning it sword
in hand.

But with what means was it to be won?  Turn his eyes where he would, the
fire of revolt was burning.  Silesia had already joined the insurgents
in Bohemia; Moravia was on the point of following its example.  In Upper
and Lower Austria the spirit of liberty was awake, as it had been under
Rodolph, and the Estates refused to do homage.  Hungary was menaced with
an inroad by Prince Bethlen Gabor, on the side of Transylvania; a secret
arming among the Turks spread consternation among the provinces to the
eastward; and, to complete his perplexities, the Protestants also, in
his hereditary dominions, stimulated by the general example, were again
raising their heads.  In that quarter, their numbers were overwhelming;
in most places they had possession of the revenues which Ferdinand would
need for the maintenance of the war.  The neutral began to waver, the
faithful to be discouraged, the turbulent alone to be animated and
confident.  One half of Germany encouraged the rebels, the other
inactively awaited the issue; Spanish assistance was still very remote.
The moment which had brought him every thing, threatened also to deprive
him of all.

And when he now, yielding to the stern law of necessity, made overtures
to the Bohemian rebels, all his proposals for peace were insolently
rejected.  Count Thurn, at the head of an army, entered Moravia to bring
this province, which alone continued to waver, to a decision.  The
appearance of their friends is the signal of revolt for the Moravian
Protestants.  Bruenn is taken, the remainder of the country yields with
free will, throughout the province government and religion are changed.
Swelling as it flows, the torrent of rebellion pours down upon Austria,
where a party, holding similar sentiments, receives it with a joyful
concurrence.  Henceforth, there should be no more distinctions of
religion; equality of rights should be guaranteed to all Christian
churches.  They hear that a foreign force has been invited into the
country to oppress the Bohemians.  Let them be sought out, and the
enemies of liberty pursued to the ends of the earth.  Not an arm is
raised in defence of the Archduke, and the rebels, at length, encamp
before Vienna to besiege their sovereign.

Ferdinand had sent his children from Gratz, where they were no longer
safe, to the Tyrol; he himself awaited the insurgents in his capital.  A
handful of soldiers was all he could oppose to the enraged multitude;
these few were without pay or provisions, and therefore little to be
depended on.  Vienna was unprepared for a long siege.  The party of the
Protestants, ready at any moment to join the Bohemians, had the
preponderance in the city; those in the country had already begun to
levy troops against him.  Already, in imagination, the Protestant
populace saw the Emperor shut up in a monastery, his territories
divided, and his children educated as Protestants.  Confiding in secret,
and surrounded by public enemies, he saw the chasm every moment widening
to engulf his hopes and even himself.  The Bohemian bullets were already
falling upon the imperial palace, when sixteen Austrian barons forcibly
entered his chamber, and inveighing against him with loud and bitter
reproaches, endeavoured to force him into a confederation with the
Bohemians.  One of them, seizing him by the button of his doublet,
demanded, in a tone of menace, "Ferdinand, wilt thou sign it?"

Who would not be pardoned had he wavered in this frightful situation?
Yet Ferdinand still remembered the dignity of a Roman emperor.  No
alternative seemed left to him but an immediate flight or submission;
laymen urged him to the one, priests to the other.  If he abandoned the
city, it would fall into the enemy's hands; with Vienna, Austria was
lost; with Austria, the imperial throne.  Ferdinand abandoned not his
capital, and as little would he hear of conditions.

The Archduke is still engaged in altercation with the deputed barons,
when all at once a sound of trumpets is heard in the palace square.
Terror and astonishment take possession of all present; a fearful report
pervades the palace; one deputy after another disappears.  Many of the
nobility and the citizens hastily take refuge in the camp of Thurn.
This sudden change is effected by a regiment of Dampierre's cuirassiers,
who at that moment marched into the city to defend the Archduke.  A body
of infantry soon followed; reassured by their appearance, several of the
Roman Catholic citizens, and even the students themselves, take up arms.
A report which arrived just at the same time from Bohemia made his
deliverance complete.  The Flemish general, Bucquoi, had totally
defeated Count Mansfeld at Budweiss, and was marching upon Prague.  The
Bohemians hastily broke up their camp before Vienna to protect their own
capital.

And now also the passes were free which the enemy had taken possession
of, in order to obstruct Ferdinand's progress to his coronation at
Frankfort.  If the accession to the imperial throne was important for
the plans of the King of Hungary, it was of still greater consequence at
the present moment, when his nomination as Emperor would afford the most
unsuspicious and decisive proof of the dignity of his person, and of the
justice of his cause, while, at the same time, it would give him a hope
of support from the Empire.  But the same cabal which opposed him in his
hereditary dominions, laboured also to counteract him in his canvass for
the imperial dignity.  No Austrian prince, they maintained, ought to
ascend the throne; least of all Ferdinand, the bigoted persecutor of
their religion, the slave of Spain and of the Jesuits.  To prevent this,
the crown had been offered, even during the lifetime of Matthias, to the
Duke of Bavaria, and on his refusal, to the Duke of Savoy.  As some
difficulty was experienced in settling with the latter the conditions of
acceptance, it was sought, at all events, to delay the election till
some decisive blow in Austria or Bohemia should annihilate all the hopes
of Ferdinand, and incapacitate him from any competition for this
dignity.  The members of the Union left no stone unturned to gain over
from Ferdinand the Electorate of Saxony, which was bound to Austrian
interests; they represented to this court the dangers with which the
Protestant religion, and even the constitution of the empire, were
threatened by the principles of this prince and his Spanish alliance.
By the elevation of Ferdinand to the imperial throne, Germany, they
further asserted, would be involved in the private quarrels of this
prince, and bring upon itself the arms of Bohemia.  But in spite of all
opposing influences, the day of election was fixed, Ferdinand summoned
to it as lawful king of Bohemia, and his electoral vote, after a
fruitless resistance on the part of the Bohemian Estates, acknowledged
to be good.  The votes of the three ecclesiastical electorates were for
him, Saxony was favourable to him, Brandenburg made no opposition, and a
decided majority declared him Emperor in 1619.  Thus he saw the most
doubtful of his crowns placed first of all on his head; but a few days
after he lost that which he had reckoned among the most certain of his
possessions.  While he was thus elected Emperor in Frankfort, he was in
Prague deprived of the Bohemian throne.

Almost all of his German hereditary dominions had in the meantime
entered into a formidable league with the Bohemians, whose insolence now
exceeded all bounds.  In a general Diet, the latter, on the 17th of
August, 1619, proclaimed the Emperor an enemy to the Bohemian religion
and liberties, who by his pernicious counsels had alienated from them
the affections of the late Emperor, had furnished troops to oppress
them, had given their country as a prey to foreigners, and finally, in
contravention of the national rights, had bequeathed the crown, by a
secret compact, to Spain:  they therefore declared that he had forfeited
whatever title he might otherwise have had to the crown, and immediately
proceeded to a new election.  As this sentence was pronounced by
Protestants, their choice could not well fall upon a Roman Catholic
prince, though, to save appearances, some voices were raised for Bavaria
and Savoy.  But the violent religious animosities which divided the
evangelical and the reformed parties among the Protestants, impeded for
some time the election even of a Protestant king; till at last the
address and activity of the Calvinists carried the day from the
numerical superiority of the Lutherans.

Among all the princes who were competitors for this dignity, the Elector
Palatine Frederick V.  had the best grounded claims on the confidence
and gratitude of the Bohemians; and among them all, there was no one in
whose case the private interests of particular Estates, and the
attachment of the people, seemed to be justified by so many
considerations of state.  Frederick V.  was of a free and lively spirit,
of great goodness of heart, and regal liberality.  He was the head of
the Calvinistic party in Germany, the leader of the Union, whose
resources were at his disposal, a near relation of the Duke of Bavaria,
and a son-in-law of the King of Great Britain, who might lend him his
powerful support.  All these considerations were prominently and
successfully brought forward by the Calvinists, and Frederick V.  was
chosen king by the Assembly at Prague, amidst prayers and tears of joy.

The whole proceedings of the Diet at Prague had been premeditated, and
Frederick himself had taken too active a share in the matter to feel at
all surprised at the offer made to him by the Bohemians.  But now the
immediate glitter of this throne dazzled him, and the magnitude both of
his elevation and his delinquency made his weak mind to tremble.  After
the usual manner of pusillanimous spirits, he sought to confirm himself
in his purpose by the opinions of others; but these opinions had no
weight with him when they ran counter to his own cherished wishes.
Saxony and Bavaria, of whom he sought advice, all his brother electors,
all who compared the magnitude of the design with his capacities and
resources, warned him of the danger into which he was about to rush.
Even King James of England preferred to see his son-in-law deprived of
this crown, than that the sacred majesty of kings should be outraged by
so dangerous a precedent.  But of what avail was the voice of prudence
against the seductive glitter of a crown? In the moment of boldest
determination, when they are indignantly rejecting the consecrated
branch of a race which had governed them for two centuries, a free
people throws itself into his arms.  Confiding in his courage, they
choose him as their leader in the dangerous career of glory and liberty.
To him, as to its born champion, an oppressed religion looks for shelter
and support against its persecutors.  Could he have the weakness to
listen to his fears, and to betray the cause of religion and liberty?
This religion proclaims to him its own preponderance, and the weakness
of its rival,--two-thirds of the power of Austria are now in arms
against Austria itself, while a formidable confederacy, already formed
in Transylvania, would, by a hostile attack, further distract even the
weak remnant of its power.  Could inducements such as these fail to
awaken his ambition, or such hopes to animate and inflame his
resolution?

A few moments of calm consideration would have sufficed to show the
danger of the undertaking, and the comparative worthlessness of the
prize.  But the temptation spoke to his feelings; the warning only to
his reason.  It was his misfortune that his nearest and most influential
counsellors espoused the side of his passions.  The aggrandizement of
their master's power opened to the ambition and avarice of his Palatine
servants an unlimited field for their gratification; this anticipated
triumph of their church kindled the ardour of the Calvinistic fanatic.
Could a mind so weak as that of Ferdinand resist the delusions of his
counsellors, who exaggerated his resources and his strength, as much as
they underrated those of his enemies; or the exhortations of his
preachers, who announced the effusions of their fanatical zeal as the
immediate inspiration of heaven? The dreams of astrology filled his mind
with visionary hopes; even love conspired, with its irresistible
fascination, to complete the seduction.  "Had you," demanded the
Electress, "confidence enough in yourself to accept the hand of a king's
daughter, and have you misgivings about taking a crown which is
voluntarily offered you? I would rather eat bread at thy kingly table,
than feast at thy electoral board."

Frederick accepted the Bohemian crown.  The coronation was celebrated
with unexampled pomp at Prague, for the nation displayed all its riches
in honour of its own work.  Silesia and Moravia, the adjoining provinces
to Bohemia, followed their example, and did homage to Frederick.  The
reformed faith was enthroned in all the churches of the kingdom; the
rejoicings were unbounded, their attachment to their new king bordered
on adoration.  Denmark and Sweden, Holland and Venice, and several of
the Dutch states, acknowledged him as lawful sovereign, and Frederick
now prepared to maintain his new acquisition.

His principal hopes rested on Prince Bethlen Gabor of Transylvania.
This formidable enemy of Austria, and of the Roman Catholic church, not
content with the principality which, with the assistance of the Turks,
he had wrested from his legitimate prince, Gabriel Bathori, gladly
seized this opportunity of aggrandizing himself at the expense of
Austria, which had hesitated to acknowledge him as sovereign of
Transylvania.  An attack upon Hungary and Austria was concerted with the
Bohemian rebels, and both armies were to unite before the capital.
Meantime, Bethlen Gabor, under the mask of friendship, disguised the
true object of his warlike preparations, artfully promising the Emperor
to lure the Bohemians into the toils, by a pretended offer of
assistance, and to deliver up to him alive the leaders of the
insurrection.  All at once, however, he appeared in a hostile attitude
in Upper Hungary.  Before him went terror, and devastation behind; all
opposition yielded, and at Presburg he received the Hungarian crown.
The Emperor's brother, who governed in Vienna, trembled for the capital.
He hastily summoned General Bucquoi to his assistance, and the retreat
of the Imperialists drew the Bohemians, a second time, before the walls
of Vienna.  Reinforced by twelve thousand Transylvanians, and soon after
joined by the victorious army of Bethlen Gabor, they again menaced the
capital with assault; all the country round Vienna was laid waste, the
navigation of the Danube closed, all supplies cut off, and the horrors
of famine were threatened.  Ferdinand, hastily recalled to his capital
by this urgent danger, saw himself a second time on the brink of ruin.
But want of provisions, and the inclement weather, finally compelled the
Bohemians to go into quarters, a defeat in Hungary recalled Bethlen
Gabor, and thus once more had fortune rescued the Emperor.

In a few weeks the scene was changed, and by his prudence and activity
Ferdinand improved his position as rapidly as Frederick, by indolence
and impolicy, ruined his.  The Estates of Lower Austria were regained to
their allegiance by a confirmation of their privileges; and the few who
still held out were declared guilty of `lese-majeste' and high treason.
During the election of Frankfort, he had contrived, by personal
representations, to win over to his cause the ecclesiastical electors,
and also Maximilian, Duke of Bavaria, at Munich.  The whole issue of the
war, the fate of Frederick and the Emperor, were now dependent on the
part which the Union and the League should take in the troubles of
Bohemia.  It was evidently of importance to all the Protestants of
Germany that the King of Bohemia should be supported, while it was
equally the interest of the Roman Catholics to prevent the ruin of the
Emperor.  If the Protestants succeeded in Bohemia, all the Roman
Catholic princes in Germany might tremble for their possessions; if they
failed, the Emperor would give laws to Protestant Germany.  Thus
Ferdinand put the League, Frederick the Union, in motion.  The ties of
relationship and a personal attachment to the Emperor, his
brother-in-law, with whom he had been educated at Ingolstadt, zeal for
the Roman Catholic religion, which seemed to be in the most imminent
peril, and the suggestions of the Jesuits, combined with the suspicious
movements of the Union, moved the Duke of Bavaria, and all the princes
of the League, to make the cause of Ferdinand their own.

According to the terms of a treaty with the Emperor, which assured to
the Duke of Bavaria compensation for all the expenses of the war, or the
losses he might sustain, Maximilian took, with full powers, the command
of the troops of the League, which were ordered to march to the
assistance of the Emperor against the Bohemian rebels.  The leaders of
the Union, instead of delaying by every means this dangerous coalition
of the League with the Emperor, did every thing in their power to
accelerate it.  Could they, they thought, but once drive the Roman
Catholic League to take an open part in the Bohemian war, they might
reckon on similar measures from all the members and allies of the Union.
Without some open step taken by the Roman Catholics against the Union,
no effectual confederacy of the Protestant powers was to be looked for.
They seized, therefore, the present emergency of the troubles in Bohemia
to demand from the Roman Catholics the abolition of their past
grievances, and full security for the future exercise of their religion.
They addressed this demand, which was moreover couched in threatening
language, to the Duke of Bavaria, as the head of the Roman Catholics,
and they insisted on an immediate and categorical answer.  Maximilian
might decide for or against them, still their point was gained; his
concession, if he yielded, would deprive the Roman Catholic party of its
most powerful protector; his refusal would arm the whole Protestant
party, and render inevitable a war in which they hoped to be the
conquerors.  Maximilian, firmly attached to the opposite party from so
many other considerations, took the demands of the Union as a formal
declaration of hostilities, and quickened his preparations.  While
Bavaria and the League were thus arming in the Emperor's cause,
negotiations for a subsidy were opened with the Spanish court.  All the
difficulties with which the indolent policy of that ministry met this
demand were happily surmounted by the imperial ambassador at Madrid,
Count Khevenhuller.  In addition to a subsidy of a million of florins,
which from time to time were doled out by this court, an attack upon the
Lower Palatinate, from the side of the Spanish Netherlands, was at the
same time agreed upon.

During these attempts to draw all the Roman Catholic powers into the
League, every exertion was made against the counter-league of the
Protestants.  To this end, it was important to alarm the Elector of
Saxony and the other Evangelical powers, and accordingly the Union were
diligent in propagating a rumour that the preparations of the League had
for their object to deprive them of the ecclesiastical foundations they
had secularized.  A written assurance to the contrary calmed the fears
of the Duke of Saxony, whom moreover private jealousy of the Palatine,
and the insinuations of his chaplain, who was in the pay of Austria, and
mortification at having been passed over by the Bohemians in the
election to the throne, strongly inclined to the side of Austria.  The
fanaticism of the Lutherans could never forgive the reformed party for
having drawn, as they expressed it, so many fair provinces into the gulf
of Calvinism, and rejecting the Roman Antichrist only to make way for an
Helvetian one.

While Ferdinand used every effort to improve the unfavourable situation
of his affairs, Frederick was daily injuring his good cause.  By his
close and questionable connexion with the Prince of Transylvania, the
open ally of the Porte, he gave offence to weak minds; and a general
rumour accused him of furthering his own ambition at the expense of
Christendom, and arming the Turks against Germany.  His inconsiderate
zeal for the Calvinistic scheme irritated the Lutherans of Bohemia, his
attacks on image-worship incensed the Papists of this kingdom against
him.  New and oppressive imposts alienated the affections of all his
subjects.  The disappointed hopes of the Bohemian nobles cooled their
zeal; the absence of foreign succours abated their confidence.  Instead
of devoting himself with untiring energies to the affairs of his
kingdom, Frederick wasted his time in amusements; instead of filling his
treasury by a wise economy, he squandered his revenues by a needless
theatrical pomp, and a misplaced munificence.  With a light-minded
carelessness, he did but gaze at himself in his new dignity, and in the
ill-timed desire to enjoy his crown, he forgot the more pressing duty of
securing it on his head.

But greatly as men had erred in their opinion of him, Frederick himself
had not less miscalculated his foreign resources.  Most of the members
of the Union considered the affairs of Bohemia as foreign to the real
object of their confederacy; others, who were devoted to him, were
overawed by fear of the Emperor.  Saxony and Hesse Darmstadt had already
been gained over by Ferdinand; Lower Austria, on which side a powerful
diversion had been looked for, had made its submission to the Emperor;
and Bethlen Gabor had concluded a truce with him.  By its embassies, the
court of Vienna had induced Denmark to remain inactive, and to occupy
Sweden in a war with the Poles.  The republic of Holland had enough to
do to defend itself against the arms of the Spaniards; Venice and Saxony
remained inactive; King James of England was overreached by the artifice
of Spain.  One friend after another withdrew; one hope vanished after
another--so rapidly in a few months was every thing changed.

In the mean time, the leaders of the Union assembled an army;--the
Emperor and the League did the same.  The troops of the latter were
assembled under the banners of Maximilian at Donauwerth, those of the
Union at Ulm, under the Margrave of Anspach.  The decisive moment seemed
at length to have arrived which was to end these long dissensions by a
vigorous blow, and irrevocably to settle the relation of the two
churches in Germany.  Anxiously on the stretch was the expectation of
both parties.  How great then was their astonishment when suddenly the
intelligence of peace arrived, and both armies separated without
striking a blow!

The intervention of France effected this peace, which was equally
acceptable to both parties.  The French cabinet, no longer swayed by the
counsels of Henry the Great, and whose maxims of state were perhaps not
applicable to the present condition of that kingdom, was now far less
alarmed at the preponderance of Austria, than of the increase which
would accrue to the strength of the Calvinists, if the Palatine house
should be able to retain the throne of Bohemia.  Involved at the time in
a dangerous conflict with its own Calvinistic subjects, it was of the
utmost importance to France that the Protestant faction in Bohemia
should be suppressed before the Huguenots could copy their dangerous
example.  In order therefore to facilitate the Emperor's operations
against the Bohemians, she offered her mediation to the Union and the
League, and effected this unexpected treaty, of which the main article
was, "That the Union should abandon all interference in the affairs of
Bohemia, and confine the aid which they might afford to Frederick the
Fifth, to his Palatine territories."  To this disgraceful treaty, the
Union were moved by the firmness of Maximilian, and the fear of being
pressed at once by the troops of the League, and a new Imperial army
which was on its march from the Netherlands.

The whole force of Bavaria and the League was now at the disposal of the
Emperor to be employed against the Bohemians, who by the pacification of
Ulm were abandoned to their fate.  With a rapid movement, and before a
rumour of the proceedings at Ulm could reach there, Maximilian appeared
in Upper Austria, when the Estates, surprised and unprepared for an
enemy, purchased the Emperor's pardon by an immediate and unconditional
submission.  In Lower Austria, the duke formed a junction with the
troops from the Low Countries under Bucquoi, and without loss of time
the united Imperial and Bavarian forces, amounting to 50,000 men,
entered Bohemia.  All the Bohemian troops, which were dispersed over
Lower Austria and Moravia, were driven before them; every town which
attempted resistance was quickly taken by storm; others, terrified by
the report of the punishment inflicted on these, voluntarily opened
their gates; nothing in short interrupted the impetuous career of
Maximilian.  The Bohemian army, commanded by the brave Prince Christian
of Anhalt, retreated to the neighbourhood of Prague; where, under the
walls of the city, Maximilian offered him battle.

The wretched condition in which he hoped to surprise the insurgents,
justified the rapidity of the duke's movements, and secured him the
victory.  Frederick's army did not amount to 30,000 men.  Eight thousand
of these were furnished by the Prince of Anhalt; 10,000 were Hungarians,
whom Bethlen Gabor had despatched to his assistance.  An inroad of the
Elector of Saxony upon Lusatia, had cut off all succours from that
country, and from Silesia; the pacification of Austria put an end to all
his expectations from that quarter; Bethlen Gabor, his most powerful
ally, remained inactive in Transylvania; the Union had betrayed his
cause to the Emperor.  Nothing remained to him but his Bohemians; and
they were without goodwill to his cause, and without unity and courage.
The Bohemian magnates were indignant that German generals should be put
over their heads; Count Mansfeld remained in Pilsen, at a distance from
the camp, to avoid the mortification of serving under Anhalt and
Hohenlohe.  The soldiers, in want of necessaries, became dispirited; and
the little discipline that was observed, gave occasion to bitter
complaints from the peasantry.  It was in vain that Frederick made his
appearance in the camp, in the hope of reviving the courage of the
soldiers by his presence, and of kindling the emulation of the nobles by
his example.

The Bohemians had begun to entrench themselves on the White Mountain
near Prague, when they were attacked by the Imperial and Bavarian
armies, on the 8th November, 1620.  In the beginning of the action, some
advantages were gained by the cavalry of the Prince of Anhalt; but the
superior numbers of the enemy soon neutralized them.  The charge of the
Bavarians and Walloons was irresistible.  The Hungarian cavalry was the
first to retreat.  The Bohemian infantry soon followed their example;
and the Germans were at last carried along with them in the general
flight.  Ten cannons, composing the whole of Frederick's artillery, were
taken by the enemy; four thousand Bohemians fell in the flight and on
the field; while of the Imperialists and soldiers of the League only a
few hundred were killed.  In less than an hour this decisive action was
over.

Frederick was seated at table in Prague, while his army was thus cut to
pieces.  It is probable that he had not expected the attack on this day,
since he had ordered an entertainment for it.  A messenger summoned him
from table, to show him from the walls the whole frightful scene.  He
requested a cessation of hostilities for twenty-four hours for
deliberation; but eight was all the Duke of Bavaria would allow him.
Frederick availed himself of these to fly by night from the capital,
with his wife, and the chief officers of his army.  This flight was so
hurried, that the Prince of Anhalt left behind him his most private
papers, and Frederick his crown.  "I know now what I am," said this
unfortunate prince to those who endeavoured to comfort him; "there are
virtues which misfortune only can teach us, and it is in adversity alone
that princes learn to know themselves."

Prague was not irretrievably lost when Frederick's pusillanimity
abandoned it.  The light troops of Mansfeld were still in Pilsen, and
were not engaged in the action.  Bethlen Gabor might at any moment have
assumed an offensive attitude, and drawn off the Emperor's army to the
Hungarian frontier.  The defeated Bohemians might rally.  Sickness,
famine, and the inclement weather, might wear out the enemy; but all
these hopes disappeared before the immediate alarm.  Frederick dreaded
the fickleness of the Bohemians, who might probably yield to the
temptation to purchase, by the surrender of his person, the pardon of
the Emperor.

Thurn, and those of this party who were in the same condemnation with
him, found it equally inexpedient to await their destiny within the
walls of Prague.  They retired towards Moravia, with a view of seeking
refuge in Transylvania.  Frederick fled to Breslau, where, however, he
only remained a short time.  He removed from thence to the court of the
Elector of Brandenburg, and finally took shelter in Holland.

The battle of Prague had decided the fate of Bohemia.  Prague
surrendered the next day to the victors; the other towns followed the
example of the capital.  The Estates did homage without conditions, and
the same was done by those of Silesia and Moravia.  The Emperor allowed
three months to elapse, before instituting any inquiry into the past.
Reassured by this apparent clemency, many who, at first, had fled in
terror appeared again in the capital.  All at once, however, the storm
burst forth; forty-eight of the most active among the insurgents were
arrested on the same day and hour, and tried by an extraordinary
commission, composed of native Bohemians and Austrians.  Of these,
twenty-seven, and of the common people an immense number, expired on the
scaffold.  The absenting offenders were summoned to appear to their
trial, and failing to do so, condemned to death, as traitors and
offenders against his Catholic Majesty, their estates confiscated, and
their names affixed to the gallows.  The property also of the rebels who
had fallen in the field was seized.  This tyranny might have been borne,
as it affected individuals only, and while the ruin of one enriched
another; but more intolerable was the oppression which extended to the
whole kingdom, without exception.  All the Protestant preachers were
banished from the country; the Bohemians first, and afterwards those of
Germany.  The `Letter of Majesty', Ferdinand tore with his own hand, and
burnt the seal.  Seven years after the battle of Prague, the toleration
of the Protestant religion within the kingdom was entirely revoked.  But
whatever violence the Emperor allowed himself against the religious
privileges of his subjects, he carefully abstained from interfering with
their political constitution; and while he deprived them of the liberty
of thought, he magnanimously left them the prerogative of taxing
themselves.

The victory of the White Mountain put Ferdinand in possession of all his
dominions.  It even invested him with greater authority over them than
his predecessors enjoyed, since their allegiance had been
unconditionally pledged to him, and no Letter of Majesty now existed to
limit his sovereignty.  All his wishes were now gratified, to a degree
surpassing his most sanguine expectations.

It was now in his power to dismiss his allies, and disband his army.  If
he was just, there was an end of the war--if he was both magnanimous and
just, punishment was also at an end.  The fate of Germany was in his
hands; the happiness and misery of millions depended on the resolution
he should take.  Never was so great a decision resting on a single mind;
never did the blindness of one man produce so much ruin.