In the mean time, the imperial Bavarian army had marched into the
Bishopric of Bamberg, where the Duke of Friedland a second time mustered
his troops. He found this force, which so lately had amounted to 60,000
men, diminished by the sword, desertion, and disease, to about 24,000,
and of these a fourth were Bavarians. Thus had the encampments before
Nuremberg weakened both parties more than two great battles would have
done, apparently without advancing the termination of the war, or
satisfying, by any decisive result, the expectations of Europe. The
king's conquests in Bavaria, were, it is true, checked for a time by
this diversion before Nuremberg, and Austria itself secured against the
danger of immediate invasion; but by the retreat of the king from that
city, he was again left at full liberty to make Bavaria the seat of war.
Indifferent towards the fate of that country, and weary of the restraint
which his union with the Elector imposed upon him, the Duke of Friedland
eagerly seized the opportunity of separating from this burdensome
associate, and prosecuting, with renewed earnestness, his favourite
plans. Still adhering to his purpose of detaching Saxony from its
Swedish alliance, he selected that country for his winter quarters,
hoping by his destructive presence to force the Elector the more readily
into his views.

No conjuncture could be more favourable for his designs. The Saxons had
invaded Silesia, where, reinforced by troops from Brandenburgh and
Sweden, they had gained several advantages over the Emperor's troops.
Silesia would be saved by a diversion against the Elector in his own
territories, and the attempt was the more easy, as Saxony, left
undefended during the war in Silesia, lay open on every side to attack.
The pretext of rescuing from the enemy an hereditary dominion of
Austria, would silence the remonstrances of the Elector of Bavaria, and,
under the mask of a patriotic zeal for the Emperor's interests,
Maximilian might be sacrificed without much difficulty. By giving up
the rich country of Bavaria to the Swedes, he hoped to be left
unmolested by them in his enterprise against Saxony, while the
increasing coldness between Gustavus and the Saxon Court, gave him
little reason to apprehend any extraordinary zeal for the deliverance of
John George. Thus a second time abandoned by his artful protector, the
Elector separated from Wallenstein at Bamberg, to protect his
defenceless territory with the small remains of his troops, while the
imperial army, under Wallenstein, directed its march through Bayreuth
and Coburg towards the Thuringian Forest.

An imperial general, Holk, had previously been sent into Vogtland with
6,000 men, to waste this defenceless province with fire and sword, he
was soon followed by Gallas, another of the Duke's generals, and an
equally faithful instrument of his inhuman orders. Finally, Pappenheim,
too, was recalled from Lower Saxony, to reinforce the diminished army of
the duke, and to complete the miseries of the devoted country. Ruined
churches, villages in ashes, harvests wilfully destroyed, families
plundered, and murdered peasants, marked the progress of these
barbarians, under whose scourge the whole of Thuringia, Vogtland, and
Meissen, lay defenceless. Yet this was but the prelude to greater
sufferings, with which Wallenstein himself, at the head of the main
army, threatened Saxony. After having left behind him fearful monuments
of his fury, in his march through Franconia and Thuringia, he arrived
with his whole army in the Circle of Leipzig, and compelled the city,
after a short resistance, to surrender. His design was to push on to
Dresden, and by the conquest of the whole country, to prescribe laws to
the Elector. He had already approached the Mulda, threatening to
overpower the Saxon army which had advanced as far as Torgau to meet
him, when the King of Sweden's arrival at Erfurt gave an unexpected
check to his operations. Placed between the Saxon and Swedish armies,
which were likely to be farther reinforced by the troops of George, Duke
of Luneburg, from Lower Saxony, he hastily retired upon Meresberg, to
form a junction there with Count Pappenheim, and to repel the further
advance of the Swedes.

Gustavus Adolphus had witnessed, with great uneasiness, the arts
employed by Spain and Austria to detach his allies from him. The more
important his alliance with Saxony, the more anxiety the inconstant
temper of John George caused him. Between himself and the Elector, a
sincere friendship could never subsist. A prince, proud of his
political importance, and accustomed to consider himself as the head of
his party, could not see without annoyance the interference of a foreign
power in the affairs of the Empire; and nothing, but the extreme danger
of his dominions, could overcome the aversion with which he had long
witnessed the progress of this unwelcome intruder. The increasing
influence of the king in Germany, his authority with the Protestant
states, the unambiguous proofs which he gave of his ambitious views,
which were of a character calculated to excite the jealousies of all the
states of the Empire, awakened in the Elector's breast a thousand
anxieties, which the imperial emissaries did not fail skilfully to keep
alive and cherish. Every arbitrary step on the part of the King, every
demand, however reasonable, which he addressed to the princes of the
Empire, was followed by bitter complaints from the Elector, which seemed
to announce an approaching rupture. Even the generals of the two
powers, whenever they were called upon to act in common, manifested the
same jealousy as divided their leaders. John George's natural aversion
to war, and a lingering attachment to Austria, favoured the efforts of
Arnheim; who, maintaining a constant correspondence with Wallenstein,
laboured incessantly to effect a private treaty between his master and
the Emperor; and if his representations were long disregarded, still the
event proved that they were not altogether without effect.

Gustavus Adolphus, naturally apprehensive of the consequences which the
defection of so powerful an ally would produce on his future prospects
in Germany, spared no pains to avert so pernicious an event; and his
remonstrances had hitherto had some effect upon the Elector. But the
formidable power with which the Emperor seconded his seductive
proposals, and the miseries which, in the case of hesitation, he
threatened to accumulate upon Saxony, might at length overcome the
resolution of the Elector, should he be left exposed to the vengeance of
his enemies; while an indifference to the fate of so powerful a
confederate, would irreparably destroy the confidence of the other
allies in their protector. This consideration induced the king a second
time to yield to the pressing entreaties of the Elector, and to
sacrifice his own brilliant prospects to the safety of this ally. He
had already resolved upon a second attack on Ingoldstadt; and the
weakness of the Elector of Bavaria gave him hopes of soon forcing this
exhausted enemy to accede to a neutrality. An insurrection of the
peasantry in Upper Austria, opened to him a passage into that country,
and the capital might be in his possession, before Wallenstein could
have time to advance to its defence. All these views he now gave up for
the sake of an ally, who, neither by his services nor his fidelity, was
worthy of the sacrifice; who, on the pressing occasions of common good,
had steadily adhered to his own selfish projects; and who was important,
not for the services he was expected to render, but merely for the
injuries he had it in his power to inflict. Is it possible, then, to
refrain from indignation, when we know that, in this expedition,
undertaken for the benefit of such an ally, the great king was destined
to terminate his career?

Rapidly assembling his troops in Franconia, he followed the route of
Wallenstein through Thuringia. Duke Bernard of Weimar, who had been
despatched to act against Pappenheim, joined the king at Armstadt, who
now saw himself at the head of 20,000 veterans. At Erfurt he took leave
of his queen, who was not to behold him, save in his coffin, at
Weissenfels. Their anxious adieus seemed to forbode an eternal
separation.

He reached Naumburg on the 1st November, 1632, before the corps, which
the Duke of Friedland had despatched for that purpose, could make itself
master of that place. The inhabitants of the surrounding country
flocked in crowds to look upon the hero, the avenger, the great king,
who, a year before, had first appeared in that quarter, like a guardian
angel. Shouts of joy everywhere attended his progress; the people knelt
before him, and struggled for the honour of touching the sheath of his
sword, or the hem of his garment. The modest hero disliked this
innocent tribute which a sincerely grateful and admiring multitude paid
him. "Is it not," said he, "as if this people would make a God of me?
Our affairs prosper, indeed; but I fear the vengeance of Heaven will
punish me for this presumption, and soon enough reveal to this deluded
multitude my human weakness and mortality!" How amiable does Gustavus
appear before us at this moment, when about to leave us for ever! Even
in the plenitude of success, he honours an avenging Nemesis, declines
that homage which is due only to the Immortal, and strengthens his title
to our tears, the nearer the moment approaches that is to call them
forth!

In the mean time, the Duke of Friedland had determined to advance to
meet the king, as far as Weissenfels, and even at the hazard of a
battle, to secure his winter-quarters in Saxony. His inactivity before
Nuremberg had occasioned a suspicion that he was unwilling to measure
his powers with those of the Hero of the North, and his hard-earned
reputation would be at stake, if, a second time, he should decline a
battle. His present superiority in numbers, though much less than what
it was at the beginning of the siege of Nuremberg, was still enough to
give him hopes of victory, if he could compel the king to give battle
before his junction with the Saxons. But his present reliance was not
so much in his numerical superiority, as in the predictions of his
astrologer Seni, who had read in the stars that the good fortune of the
Swedish monarch would decline in the month of November. Besides,
between Naumburg and Weissenfels there was also a range of narrow
defiles, formed by a long mountainous ridge, and the river Saal, which
ran at their foot, along which the Swedes could not advance without
difficulty, and which might, with the assistance of a few troops, be
rendered almost impassable. If attacked there, the king would have no
choice but either to penetrate with great danger through the defiles, or
commence a laborious retreat through Thuringia, and to expose the
greater part of his army to a march through a desert country, deficient
in every necessary for their support. But the rapidity with which
Gustavus Adolphus had taken possession of Naumburg, disappointed this
plan, and it was now Wallenstein himself who awaited the attack.

But in this expectation he was disappointed; for the king, instead of
advancing to meet him at Weissenfels, made preparations for entrenching
himself near Naumburg, with the intention of awaiting there the
reinforcements which the Duke of Lunenburg was bringing up. Undecided
whether to advance against the king through the narrow passes between
Weissenfels and Naumburg, or to remain inactive in his camp, he called a
council of war, in order to have the opinion of his most experienced
generals. None of these thought it prudent to attack the king in his
advantageous position. On the other hand, the preparations which the
latter made to fortify his camp, plainly showed that it was not his
intention soon to abandon it. But the approach of winter rendered it
impossible to prolong the campaign, and by a continued encampment to
exhaust the strength of the army, already so much in need of repose.
All voices were in favour of immediately terminating the campaign: and,
the more so, as the important city of Cologne upon the Rhine was
threatened by the Dutch, while the progress of the enemy in Westphalia
and the Lower Rhine called for effective reinforcements in that quarter.
Wallenstein yielded to the weight of these arguments, and almost
convinced that, at this season, he had no reason to apprehend an attack
from the King, he put his troops into winter-quarters, but so that, if
necessary, they might be rapidly assembled. Count Pappenheim was
despatched, with great part of the army, to the assistance of Cologne,
with orders to take possession, on his march, of the fortress of
Moritzburg, in the territory of Halle. Different corps took up their
winter-quarters in the neighbouring towns, to watch, on all sides, the
motions of the enemy. Count Colloredo guarded the castle of
Weissenfels, and Wallenstein himself encamped with the remainder not far
from Merseburg, between Flotzgaben and the Saal, from whence he purposed
to march to Leipzig, and to cut off the communication between the Saxons
and the Swedish army.

Scarcely had Gustavus Adolphus been informed of Pappenheim's departure,
when suddenly breaking up his camp at Naumburg, he hastened with his
whole force to attack the enemy, now weakened to one half. He advanced,
by rapid marches, towards Weissenfels, from whence the news of his
arrival quickly reached the enemy, and greatly astonished the Duke of
Friedland. But a speedy resolution was now necessary; and the measures
of Wallenstein were soon taken. Though he had little more than 12,000
men to oppose to the 20,000 of the enemy, he might hope to maintain his
ground until the return of Pappenheim, who could not have advanced
farther than Halle, five miles distant. Messengers were hastily
despatched to recall him, while Wallenstein moved forward into the wide
plain between the Canal and Lutzen, where he awaited the King in full
order of battle, and, by this position, cut off his communication with
Leipzig and the Saxon auxiliaries.

Three cannon shots, fired by Count Colloredo from the castle of
Weissenfels, announced the king's approach; and at this concerted
signal, the light troops of the Duke of Friedland, under the command of
the Croatian General Isolani, moved forward to possess themselves of the
villages lying upon the Rippach. Their weak resistance did not impede
the advance of the enemy, who crossed the Rippach, near the village of
that name, and formed in line below Lutzen, opposite the Imperialists.
The high road which goes from Weissenfels to Leipzig, is intersected
between Lutzen and Markranstadt by the canal which extends from Zeitz to
Merseburg, and unites the Elster with the Saal. On this canal, rested
the left wing of the Imperialists, and the right of the King of Sweden;
but so that the cavalry of both extended themselves along the opposite
side. To the northward, behind Lutzen, was Wallenstein's right wing,
and to the south of that town was posted the left wing of the Swedes;
both armies fronted the high road, which ran between them, and divided
their order of battle; but the evening before the battle, Wallenstein,
to the great disadvantage of his opponent, had possessed himself of this
highway, deepened the trenches which ran along its sides, and planted
them with musketeers, so as to make the crossing of it both difficult
and dangerous. Behind these, again, was erected a battery of seven
large pieces of cannon, to support the fire from the trenches; and at
the windmills, close behind Lutzen, fourteen smaller field pieces were
ranged on an eminence, from which they could sweep the greater part of
the plain. The infantry, divided into no more than five unwieldy
brigades, was drawn up at the distance of 300 paces from the road, and
the cavalry covered the flanks. All the baggage was sent to Leipzig,
that it might not impede the movements of the army; and the
ammunition-waggons alone remained, which were placed in rear of the
line. To conceal the weakness of the Imperialists, all the
camp-followers and sutlers were mounted, and posted on the left wing,
but only until Pappenheim's troops arrived. These arrangements were
made during the darkness of the night; and when the morning dawned, all
was ready for the reception of the enemy.

On the evening of the same day, Gustavus Adolphus appeared on the
opposite plain, and formed his troops in the order of attack. His
disposition was the same as that which had been so successful the year
before at Leipzig. Small squadrons of horse were interspersed among the
divisions of the infantry, and troops of musketeers placed here and
there among the cavalry. The army was arranged in two lines, the canal
on the right and in its rear, the high road in front, and the town on
the left. In the centre, the infantry was formed, under the command of
Count Brahe; the cavalry on the wings; the artillery in front. To the
German hero, Bernard, Duke of Weimar, was intrusted the command of the
German cavalry of the left wing; while, on the right, the king led on
the Swedes in person, in order to excite the emulation of the two
nations to a noble competition. The second line was formed in the same
manner; and behind these was placed the reserve, commanded by Henderson,
a Scotchman.

In this position, they awaited the eventful dawn of morning, to begin a
contest, which long delay, rather than the probability of decisive
consequences, and the picked body, rather than the number of the
combatants, was to render so terrible and remarkable. The strained
expectation of Europe, so disappointed before Nuremberg, was now to be
gratified on the plains of Lutzen. During the whole course of the war,
two such generals, so equally matched in renown and ability, had not
before been pitted against each other. Never, as yet, had daring been
cooled by so awful a hazard, or hope animated by so glorious a prize.
Europe was next day to learn who was her greatest general:--to-morrow,
the leader, who had hitherto been invincible, must acknowledge a victor.
This morning was to place it beyond a doubt, whether the victories of
Gustavus at Leipzig and on the Lech, were owing to his own military
genius, or to the incompetency of his opponent; whether the services of
Wallenstein were to vindicate the Emperor's choice, and justify the high
price at which they had been purchased. The victory was as yet
doubtful, but certain were the labour and the bloodshed by which it must
be earned. Every private in both armies, felt a jealous share in their
leader's reputation, and under every corslet beat the same emotions that
inflamed the bosoms of the generals. Each army knew the enemy to which
it was to be opposed: and the anxiety which each in vain attempted to
repress, was a convincing proof of their opponent's strength.

At last the fateful morning dawned; but an impenetrable fog, which
spread over the plain, delayed the attack till noon. Kneeling in front
of his lines, the king offered up his devotions; and the whole army, at
the same moment dropping on their knees, burst into a moving hymn,
accompanied by the military music. The king then mounted his horse, and
clad only in a leathern doublet and surtout, (for a wound he had
formerly received prevented his wearing armour,) rode along the ranks,
to animate the courage of his troops with a joyful confidence, which,
however, the forboding presentiment of his own bosom contradicted. "God
with us!" was the war-cry of the Swedes; "Jesus Maria!" that of the
Imperialists. About eleven the fog began to disperse, and the enemy
became visible. At the same moment Lutzen was seen in flames, having
been set on fire by command of the duke, to prevent his being outflanked
on that side. The charge was now sounded; the cavalry rushed upon the
enemy, and the infantry advanced against the trenches.

Received by a tremendous fire of musketry and heavy artillery, these
intrepid battalions maintained the attack with undaunted courage, till
the enemy's musketeers abandoned their posts, the trenches were passed,
the battery carried and turned against the enemy. They pressed forward
with irresistible impetuosity; the first of the five imperial brigades
was immediately routed, the second soon after, and the third put to
flight. But here the genius of Wallenstein opposed itself to their
progress. With the rapidity of lightning he was on the spot to rally
his discomfited troops; and his powerful word was itself sufficient to
stop the flight of the fugitives. Supported by three regiments of
cavalry, the vanquished brigades, forming anew, faced the enemy, and
pressed vigorously into the broken ranks of the Swedes. A murderous
conflict ensued. The nearness of the enemy left no room for fire-arms,
the fury of the attack no time for loading; man was matched to man, the
useless musket exchanged for the sword and pike, and science gave way to
desperation. Overpowered by numbers, the wearied Swedes at last retire
beyond the trenches; and the captured battery is again lost by the
retreat. A thousand mangled bodies already strewed the plain, and as
yet not a single step of ground had been won.

In the mean time, the king's right wing, led by himself, had fallen upon
the enemy's left. The first impetuous shock of the heavy Finland
cuirassiers dispersed the lightly-mounted Poles and Croats, who were
posted here, and their disorderly flight spread terror and confusion
among the rest of the cavalry. At this moment notice was brought the
king, that his infantry were retreating over the trenches, and also that
his left wing, exposed to a severe fire from the enemy's cannon posted
at the windmills was beginning to give way. With rapid decision he
committed to General Horn the pursuit of the enemy's left, while he
flew, at the head of the regiment of Steinbock, to repair the disorder
of his right wing. His noble charger bore him with the velocity of
lightning across the trenches, but the squadrons that followed could not
come on with the same speed, and only a few horsemen, among whom was
Francis Albert, Duke of Saxe Lauenburg, were able to keep up with the
king. He rode directly to the place where his infantry were most
closely pressed, and while he was reconnoitring the enemy's line for an
exposed point of attack, the shortness of his sight unfortunately led
him too close to their ranks. An imperial Gefreyter,--[A person exempt
from watching duty, nearly corresponding to the corporal.]--remarking
that every one respectfully made way for him as he rode along,
immediately ordered a musketeer to take aim at him. "Fire at him
yonder," said he, "that must be a man of consequence." The soldier
fired, and the king's left arm was shattered. At that moment his
squadron came hurrying up, and a confused cry of "the king bleeds! the
king is shot!" spread terror and consternation through all the ranks.
"It is nothing--follow me," cried the king, collecting his whole
strength; but overcome by pain, and nearly fainting, he requested the
Duke of Lauenburg, in French, to lead him unobserved out of the tumult.
While the duke proceeded towards the right wing with the king, making a
long circuit to keep this discouraging sight from the disordered
infantry, his majesty received a second shot through the back, which
deprived him of his remaining strength. "Brother," said he, with a
dying voice, "I have enough! look only to your own life." At the same
moment he fell from his horse pierced by several more shots; and
abandoned by all his attendants, he breathed his last amidst the
plundering hands of the Croats. His charger, flying without its rider,
and covered with blood, soon made known to the Swedish cavalry the fall
of their king. They rushed madly forward to rescue his sacred remains
from the hands of the enemy. A murderous conflict ensued over the body,
till his mangled remains were buried beneath a heap of slain.

The mournful tidings soon ran through the Swedish army; but instead of
destroying the courage of these brave troops, it but excited it into a
new, a wild, and consuming flame. Life had lessened in value, now that
the most sacred life of all was gone; death had no terrors for the lowly
since the anointed head was not spared. With the fury of lions the
Upland, Smaeland, Finland, East and West Gothland regiments rushed a
second time upon the left wing of the enemy, which, already making but
feeble resistance to General Horn, was now entirely beaten from the
field. Bernard, Duke of Saxe-Weimar, gave to the bereaved Swedes a
noble leader in his own person; and the spirit of Gustavus led his
victorious squadrons anew. The left wing quickly formed again, and
vigorously pressed the right of the Imperialists. The artillery at the
windmills, which had maintained so murderous a fire upon the Swedes, was
captured and turned against the enemy. The centre, also, of the Swedish
infantry, commanded by the duke and Knyphausen, advanced a second time
against the trenches, which they successfully passed, and retook the
battery of seven cannons. The attack was now renewed with redoubled
fury upon the heavy battalions of the enemy's centre; their resistance
became gradually less, and chance conspired with Swedish valour to
complete the defeat. The imperial powder-waggons took fire, and, with a
tremendous explosion, grenades and bombs filled the air. The enemy, now
in confusion, thought they were attacked in the rear, while the Swedish
brigades pressed them in front. Their courage began to fail them.
Their left wing was already beaten, their right wavering, and their
artillery in the enemy's hands. The battle seemed to be almost decided;
another moment would decide the fate of the day, when Pappenheim
appeared on the field, with his cuirassiers and dragoons; all the
advantages already gained were lost, and the battle was to be fought
anew.

The order which recalled that general to Lutzen had reached him in
Halle, while his troops were still plundering the town. It was
impossible to collect the scattered infantry with that rapidity, which
the urgency of the order, and Pappenheim's impatience required. Without
waiting for it, therefore, he ordered eight regiments of cavalry to
mount; and at their head he galloped at full speed for Lutzen, to share
in the battle. He arrived in time to witness the flight of the imperial
right wing, which Gustavus Horn was driving from the field, and to be at
first involved in their rout. But with rapid presence of mind he
rallied the flying troops, and led them once more against the enemy.
Carried away by his wild bravery, and impatient to encounter the king,
who he supposed was at the head of this wing, he burst furiously upon
the Swedish ranks, which, exhausted by victory, and inferior in numbers,
were, after a noble resistance, overpowered by this fresh body of
enemies. Pappenheim's unexpected appearance revived the drooping
courage of the Imperialists, and the Duke of Friedland quickly availed
himself of the favourable moment to re-form his line. The closely
serried battalions of the Swedes were, after a tremendous conflict,
again driven across the trenches; and the battery, which had been twice
lost, again rescued from their hands. The whole yellow regiment, the
finest of all that distinguished themselves in this dreadful day, lay
dead on the field, covering the ground almost in the same excellent
order which, when alive, they maintained with such unyielding courage.
The same fate befel another regiment of Blues, which Count Piccolomini
attacked with the imperial cavalry, and cut down after a desperate
contest. Seven times did this intrepid general renew the attack; seven
horses were shot under him, and he himself was pierced with six musket
balls; yet he would not leave the field, until he was carried along in
the general rout of the whole army. Wallenstein himself was seen riding
through his ranks with cool intrepidity, amidst a shower of balls,
assisting the distressed, encouraging the valiant with praise, and the
wavering by his fearful glance. Around and close by him his men were
falling thick, and his own mantle was perforated by several shots. But
avenging destiny this day protected that breast, for which another
weapon was reserved; on the same field where the noble Gustavus expired,
Wallenstein was not allowed to terminate his guilty career.

Less fortunate was Pappenheim, the Telamon of the army, the bravest
soldier of Austria and the church. An ardent desire to encounter the
king in person, carried this daring leader into the thickest of the
fight, where he thought his noble opponent was most surely to be met.
Gustavus had also expressed a wish to meet his brave antagonist, but
these hostile wishes remained ungratified; death first brought together
these two great heroes. Two musket-balls pierced the breast of
Pappenheim; and his men forcibly carried him from the field. While they
were conveying him to the rear, a murmur reached him, that he whom he
had sought, lay dead upon the plain. When the truth of the report was
confirmed to him, his look became brighter, his dying eye sparkled with
a last gleam of joy. "Tell the Duke of Friedland," said he, "that I lie
without hope of life, but that I die happy, since I know that the
implacable enemy of my religion has fallen on the same day."

With Pappenheim, the good fortune of the Imperialists departed. The
cavalry of the left wing, already beaten, and only rallied by his
exertions, no sooner missed their victorious leader, than they gave up
everything for lost, and abandoned the field of battle in spiritless
despair. The right wing fell into the same confusion, with the
exception of a few regiments, which the bravery of their colonels Gotz,
Terzky, Colloredo, and Piccolomini, compelled to keep their ground. The
Swedish infantry, with prompt determination, profited by the enemy's
confusion. To fill up the gaps which death had made in the front line,
they formed both lines into one, and with it made the final and decisive
charge. A third time they crossed the trenches, and a third time they
captured the battery. The sun was setting when the two lines closed.
The strife grew hotter as it drew to an end; the last efforts of
strength were mutually exerted, and skill and courage did their utmost
to repair in these precious moments the fortune of the day. It was in
vain; despair endows every one with superhuman strength; no one can
conquer, no one will give way. The art of war seemed to exhaust its
powers on one side, only to unfold some new and untried masterpiece of
skill on the other. Night and darkness at last put an end to the fight,
before the fury of the combatants was exhausted; and the contest only
ceased, when no one could any longer find an antagonist. Both armies
separated, as if by tacit agreement; the trumpets sounded, and each
party claiming the victory, quitted the field.

The artillery on both sides, as the horses could not be found, remained
all night upon the field, at once the reward and the evidence of victory
to him who should hold it. Wallenstein, in his haste to leave Leipzig
and Saxony, forgot to remove his part. Not long after the battle was
ended, Pappenheim's infantry, who had been unable to follow the rapid
movements of their general, and who amounted to six regiments, marched
on the field, but the work was done. A few hours earlier, so
considerable a reinforcement would perhaps have decided the day in
favour of the Imperialists; and, even now, by remaining on the field,
they might have saved the duke's artillery, and made a prize of that of
the Swedes. But they had received no orders to act; and, uncertain as
to the issue of the battle, they retired to Leipzig, where they hoped to
join the main body.

The Duke of Friedland had retreated thither, and was followed on the
morrow by the scattered remains of his army, without artillery, without
colours, and almost without arms. The Duke of Weimar, it appears, after
the toils of this bloody day, allowed the Swedish army some repose,
between Lutzen and Weissenfels, near enough to the field of battle to
oppose any attempt the enemy might make to recover it. Of the two
armies, more than 9,000 men lay dead; a still greater number were
wounded, and among the Imperialists, scarcely a man escaped from the
field uninjured. The entire plain from Lutzen to the Canal was strewed
with the wounded, the dying, and the dead. Many of the principal
nobility had fallen on both sides. Even the Abbot of Fulda, who had
mingled in the combat as a spectator, paid for his curiosity and his
ill-timed zeal with his life. History says nothing of prisoners; a
further proof of the animosity of the combatants, who neither gave nor
took quarter.

Pappenheim died the next day of his wounds at Leipzig; an irreparable
loss to the imperial army, which this brave warrior had so often led on
to victory. The battle of Prague, where, together with Wallenstein, he
was present as colonel, was the beginning of his heroic career.
Dangerously wounded, with a few troops, he made an impetuous attack on a
regiment of the enemy, and lay for several hours mixed with the dead
upon the field, beneath the weight of his horse, till he was discovered
by some of his own men in plundering. With a small force he defeated,
in three different engagements, the rebels in Upper Austria, though
40,000 strong. At the battle of Leipzig, he for a long time delayed the
defeat of Tilly by his bravery, and led the arms of the Emperor on the
Elbe and the Weser to victory. The wild impetuous fire of his
temperament, which no danger, however apparent, could cool, or
impossibilities check, made him the most powerful arm of the imperial
force, but unfitted him for acting at its head. The battle of Leipzig,
if Tilly may be believed, was lost through his rash ardour. At the
destruction of Magdeburg, his hands were deeply steeped in blood; war
rendered savage and ferocious his disposition, which had been cultivated
by youthful studies and various travels. On his forehead, two red
streaks, like swords, were perceptible, with which nature had marked him
at his very birth. Even in his later years, these became visible, as
often as his blood was stirred by passion; and superstition easily
persuaded itself, that the future destiny of the man was thus impressed
upon the forehead of the child. As a faithful servant of the House of
Austria, he had the strongest claims on the gratitude of both its lines,
but he did not survive to enjoy the most brilliant proof of their
regard. A messenger was already on his way from Madrid, bearing to him
the order of the Golden Fleece, when death overtook him at Leipzig.

Though Te Deum, in all Spanish and Austrian lands, was sung in honour of
a victory, Wallenstein himself, by the haste with which he quitted
Leipzig, and soon after all Saxony, and by renouncing his original
design of fixing there his winter quarters, openly confessed his defeat.
It is true he made one more feeble attempt to dispute, even in his
flight, the honour of victory, by sending out his Croats next morning to
the field; but the sight of the Swedish army drawn up in order of
battle, immediately dispersed these flying bands, and Duke Bernard, by
keeping possession of the field, and soon after by the capture of
Leipzig, maintained indisputably his claim to the title of victor.

But it was a dear conquest, a dearer triumph! It was not till the fury
of the contest was over, that the full weight of the loss sustained was
felt, and the shout of triumph died away into a silent gloom of despair.
He, who had led them to the charge, returned not with them; there he lay
upon the field which he had won, mingled with the dead bodies of the
common crowd. After a long and almost fruitless search, the corpse of
the king was discovered, not far from the great stone, which, for a
hundred years before, had stood between Lutzen and the Canal, and which,
from the memorable disaster of that day, still bears the name of the
Stone of the Swede. Covered with blood and wounds, so as scarcely to be
recognised, trampled beneath the horses' hoofs, stripped by the rude
hands of plunderers of its ornaments and clothes, his body was drawn
from beneath a heap of dead, conveyed to Weissenfels, and there
delivered up to the lamentations of his soldiers, and the last embraces
of his queen. The first tribute had been paid to revenge, and blood had
atoned for the blood of the monarch; but now affection assumes its
rights, and tears of grief must flow for the man. The universal sorrow
absorbs all individual woes. The generals, still stupefied by the
unexpected blow, stood speechless and motionless around his bier, and no
one trusted himself enough to contemplate the full extent of their loss.

The Emperor, we are told by Khevenhuller, showed symptoms of deep, and
apparently sincere feeling, at the sight of the king's doublet stained
with blood, which had been stripped from him during the battle, and
carried to Vienna. "Willingly," said he, "would I have granted to the
unfortunate prince a longer life, and a safe return to his kingdom, had
Germany been at peace." But when a trait, which is nothing more than a
proof of a yet lingering humanity, and which a mere regard to
appearances and even self-love, would have extorted from the most
insensible, and the absence of which could exist only in the most
inhuman heart, has, by a Roman Catholic writer of modern times and
acknowledged merit, been made the subject of the highest eulogium, and
compared with the magnanimous tears of Alexander, for the fall of
Darius, our distrust is excited of the other virtues of the writer's
hero, and what is still worse, of his own ideas of moral dignity. But
even such praise, whatever its amount, is much for one, whose memory his
biographer has to clear from the suspicion of being privy to the
assassination of a king.

It was scarcely to be expected, that the strong leaning of mankind to
the marvellous, would leave to the common course of nature the glory of
ending the career of Gustavus Adolphus. The death of so formidable a
rival was too important an event for the Emperor, not to excite in his
bitter opponent a ready suspicion, that what was so much to his
interests, was also the result of his instigation. For the execution,
however, of this dark deed, the Emperor would require the aid of a
foreign arm, and this it was generally believed he had found in Francis
Albert, Duke of Saxe Lauenburg. The rank of the latter permitted him a
free access to the king's person, while it at the same time seemed to
place him above the suspicion of so foul a deed. This prince, however,
was in fact not incapable of this atrocity, and he had moreover
sufficient motives for its commission.

Francis Albert, the youngest of four sons of Francis II, Duke of
Lauenburg, and related by the mother's side to the race of Vasa, had, in
his early years, found a most friendly reception at the Swedish court.
Some offence which he had committed against Gustavus Adolphus, in the
queen's chamber, was, it is said, repaid by this fiery youth with a box
on the ear; which, though immediately repented of, and amply apologized
for, laid the foundation of an irreconcileable hate in the vindictive
heart of the duke. Francis Albert subsequently entered the imperial
service, where he rose to the command of a regiment, and formed a close
intimacy with Wallenstein, and condescended to be the instrument of a
secret negociation with the Saxon court, which did little honour to his
rank. Without any sufficient cause being assigned, he suddenly quitted
the Austrian service, and appeared in the king's camp at Nuremberg, to
offer his services as a volunteer. By his show of zeal for the
Protestant cause, and prepossessing and flattering deportment, he gained
the heart of the king, who, warned in vain by Oxenstiern, continued to
lavish his favour and friendship on this suspicious new comer. The
battle of Lutzen soon followed, in which Francis Albert, like an evil
genius, kept close to the king's side and did not leave him till he
fell. He owed, it was thought, his own safety amidst the fire of the
enemy, to a green sash which he wore, the colour of the Imperialists.
He was at any rate the first to convey to his friend Wallenstein the
intelligence of the king's death. After the battle, he exchanged the
Swedish service for the Saxon; and, after the murder of Wallenstein,
being charged with being an accomplice of that general, he only escaped
the sword of justice by abjuring his faith. His last appearance in life
was as commander of an imperial army in Silesia, where he died of the
wounds he had received before Schweidnitz. It requires some effort to
believe in the innocence of a man, who had run through a career like
this, of the act charged against him; but, however great may be the
moral and physical possibility of his committing such a crime, it must
still be allowed that there are no certain grounds for imputing it to
him. Gustavus Adolphus, it is well known, exposed himself to danger,
like the meanest soldier in his army, and where thousands fell, he, too,
might naturally meet his death. How it reached him, remains indeed
buried in mystery; but here, more than anywhere, does the maxim apply,
that where the ordinary course of things is fully sufficient to account
for the fact, the honour of human nature ought not to be stained by any
suspicion of moral atrocity.

But by whatever hand he fell, his extraordinary destiny must appear a
great interposition of Providence. History, too often confined to the
ungrateful task of analyzing the uniform play of human passions, is
occasionally rewarded by the appearance of events, which strike like a
hand from heaven, into the nicely adjusted machinery of human plans, and
carry the contemplative mind to a higher order of things. Of this kind,
is the sudden retirement of Gustavus Adolphus from the scene;--stopping
for a time the whole movement of the political machine, and
disappointing all the calculations of human prudence. Yesterday, the
very soul, the great and animating principle of his own creation;
to-day, struck unpitiably to the ground in the very midst of his eagle
flight; untimely torn from a whole world of great designs, and from the
ripening harvest of his expectations, he left his bereaved party
disconsolate; and the proud edifice of his past greatness sunk into
ruins. The Protestant party had identified its hopes with its
invincible leader, and scarcely can it now separate them from him; with
him, they now fear all good fortune is buried. But it was no longer the
benefactor of Germany who fell at Lutzen: the beneficent part of his
career, Gustavus Adolphus had already terminated; and now the greatest
service which he could render to the liberties of Germany was--to die.
The all-engrossing power of an individual was at an end, but many came
forward to essay their strength; the equivocal assistance of an
over-powerful protector, gave place to a more noble self-exertion on the
part of the Estates; and those who were formerly the mere instruments of
his aggrandizement, now began to work for themselves. They now looked
to their own exertions for the emancipation, which could not be received
without danger from the hand of the mighty; and the Swedish power, now
incapable of sinking into the oppressor, was henceforth restricted to
the more modest part of an ally.

The ambition of the Swedish monarch aspired unquestionably to establish
a power within Germany, and to attain a firm footing in the centre of
the empire, which was inconsistent with the liberties of the Estates.
His aim was the imperial crown; and this dignity, supported by his
power, and maintained by his energy and activity, would in his hands be
liable to more abuse than had ever been feared from the House of
Austria. Born in a foreign country, educated in the maxims of arbitrary
power, and by principles and enthusiasm a determined enemy to Popery, he
was ill qualified to maintain inviolate the constitution of the German
States, or to respect their liberties. The coercive homage which
Augsburg, with many other cities, was forced to pay to the Swedish
crown, bespoke the conqueror, rather than the protector of the empire;
and this town, prouder of the title of a royal city, than of the higher
dignity of the freedom of the empire, flattered itself with the
anticipation of becoming the capital of his future kingdom. His
ill-disguised attempts upon the Electorate of Mentz, which he first
intended to bestow upon the Elector of Brandenburg, as the dower of his
daughter Christina, and afterwards destined for his chancellor and
friend Oxenstiern, evinced plainly what liberties he was disposed to
take with the constitution of the empire. His allies, the Protestant
princes, had claims on his gratitude, which could be satisfied only at
the expense of their Roman Catholic neighbours, and particularly of the
immediate Ecclesiastical Chapters; and it seems probable a plan was
early formed for dividing the conquered provinces, (after the precedent
of the barbarian hordes who overran the German empire,) as a common
spoil, among the German and Swedish confederates. In his treatment of
the Elector Palatine, he entirely belied the magnanimity of the hero,
and forgot the sacred character of a protector. The Palatinate was in
his hands, and the obligations both of justice and honour demanded its
full and immediate restoration to the legitimate sovereign. But, by a
subtlety unworthy of a great mind, and disgraceful to the honourable
title of protector of the oppressed, he eluded that obligation. He
treated the Palatinate as a conquest wrested from the enemy, and thought
that this circumstance gave him a right to deal with it as he pleased.
He surrendered it to the Elector as a favour, not as a debt; and that,
too, as a Swedish fief, fettered by conditions which diminished half its
value, and degraded this unfortunate prince into a humble vassal of
Sweden. One of these conditions obliged the Elector, after the
conclusion of the war, to furnish, along with the other princes, his
contribution towards the maintenance of the Swedish army, a condition
which plainly indicates the fate which, in the event of the ultimate
success of the king, awaited Germany. His sudden disappearance secured
the liberties of Germany, and saved his reputation, while it probably
spared him the mortification of seeing his own allies in arms against
him, and all the fruits of his victories torn from him by a
disadvantageous peace. Saxony was already disposed to abandon him,
Denmark viewed his success with alarm and jealousy; and even France, the
firmest and most potent of his allies, terrified at the rapid growth of
his power and the imperious tone which he assumed, looked around at the
very moment he past the Lech, for foreign alliances, in order to check
the progress of the Goths, and restore to Europe the balance of power.





 Book IV.



 The weak bond of union, by which Gustavus Adolphus contrived to hold
together the Protestant members of the empire, was dissolved by his
death: the allies were now again at liberty, and their alliance, to
last, must be formed anew. By the former event, if unremedied, they
would lose all the advantages they had gained at the cost of so much
bloodshed, and expose themselves to the inevitable danger of becoming
one after the other the prey of an enemy, whom, by their union alone,
they had been able to oppose and to master. Neither Sweden, nor any of
the states of the empire, was singly a match with the Emperor and the
League; and, by seeking a peace under the present state of things, they
would necessarily be obliged to receive laws from the enemy. Union was,
therefore, equally indispensable, either for concluding a peace or
continuing the war. But a peace, sought under the present
circumstances, could not fail to be disadvantageous to the allied
powers. With the death of Gustavus Adolphus, the enemy had formed new
hopes; and however gloomy might be the situation of his affairs after
the battle of Lutzen, still the death of his dreaded rival was an event
too disastrous to the allies, and too favourable for the Emperor, not to
justify him in entertaining the most brilliant expectations, and not to
encourage him to the prosecution of the war. Its inevitable
consequence, for the moment at least, must be want of union among the
allies, and what might not the Emperor and the League gain from such a
division of their enemies? He was not likely to sacrifice such
prospects, as the present turn of affairs held out to him, for any
peace, not highly beneficial to himself; and such a peace the allies
would not be disposed to accept. They naturally determined, therefore,
to continue the war, and for this purpose, the maintenance of the
existing union was acknowledged to be indispensable.

But how was this union to be renewed? and whence were to be derived the
necessary means for continuing the war? It was not the power of Sweden,
but the talents and personal influence of its late king, which had given
him so overwhelming an influence in Germany, so great a command over the
minds of men; and even he had innumerable difficulties to overcome,
before he could establish among the states even a weak and wavering
alliance. With his death vanished all, which his personal qualities
alone had rendered practicable; and the mutual obligation of the states
seemed to cease with the hopes on which it had been founded. Several
impatiently threw off the yoke which had always been irksome; others
hastened to seize the helm which they had unwillingly seen in the hands
of Gustavus, but which, during his lifetime, they did not dare to
dispute with him. Some were tempted, by the seductive promises of the
Emperor, to abandon the alliance; others, oppressed by the heavy burdens
of a fourteen years' war, longed for the repose of peace, upon any
conditions, however ruinous. The generals of the army, partly German
princes, acknowledged no common head, and no one would stoop to receive
orders from another. Unanimity vanished alike from the cabinet and the
field, and their common weal was threatened with ruin, by the spirit of
disunion.

Gustavus had left no male heir to the crown of Sweden: his daughter
Christina, then six years old, was the natural heir. The unavoidable
weakness of a regency, suited ill with that energy and resolution, which
Sweden would be called upon to display in this trying conjuncture. The
wide reaching mind of Gustavus Adolphus had raised this unimportant, and
hitherto unknown kingdom, to a rank among the powers of Europe, which it
could not retain without the fortune and genius of its author, and from
which it could not recede, without a humiliating confession of weakness.
Though the German war had been conducted chiefly on the resources of
Germany, yet even the small contribution of men and money, which Sweden
furnished, had sufficed to exhaust the finances of that poor kingdom,
and the peasantry groaned beneath the imposts necessarily laid upon
them. The plunder gained in Germany enriched only a few individuals,
among the nobles and the soldiers, while Sweden itself remained poor as
before. For a time, it is true, the national glory reconciled the
subject to these burdens, and the sums exacted, seemed but as a loan
placed at interest, in the fortunate hand of Gustavus Adolphus, to be
richly repaid by the grateful monarch at the conclusion of a glorious
peace. But with the king's death this hope vanished, and the deluded
people now loudly demanded relief from their burdens.

But the spirit of Gustavus Adolphus still lived in the men to whom he
had confided the administration of the kingdom. However dreadful to
them, and unexpected, was the intelligence of his death, it did not
deprive them of their manly courage; and the spirit of ancient Rome,
under the invasion of Brennus and Hannibal, animated this noble
assembly. The greater the price, at which these hard-gained advantages
had been purchased, the less readily could they reconcile themselves to
renounce them: not unrevenged was a king to be sacrificed. Called on
to choose between a doubtful and exhausting war, and a profitable but
disgraceful peace, the Swedish council of state boldly espoused the side
of danger and honour; and with agreeable surprise, men beheld this
venerable senate acting with all the energy and enthusiasm of youth.
Surrounded with watchful enemies, both within and without, and
threatened on every side with danger, they armed themselves against them
all, with equal prudence and heroism, and laboured to extend their
kingdom, even at the moment when they had to struggle for its existence.

The decease of the king, and the minority of his daughter Christina,
renewed the claims of Poland to the Swedish throne; and King Ladislaus,
the son of Sigismund, spared no intrigues to gain a party in Sweden. On
this ground, the regency lost no time in proclaiming the young queen,
and arranging the administration of the regency. All the officers of
the kingdom were summoned to do homage to their new princess; all
correspondence with Poland prohibited, and the edicts of previous
monarchs against the heirs of Sigismund, confirmed by a solemn act of
the nation. The alliance with the Czar of Muscovy was carefully
renewed, in order, by the arms of this prince, to keep the hostile Poles
in check. The death of Gustavus Adolphus had put an end to the jealousy
of Denmark, and removed the grounds of alarm which had stood in the way
of a good understanding between the two states. The representations by
which the enemy sought to stir up Christian IV. against Sweden were no
longer listened to; and the strong wish the Danish monarch entertained
for the marriage of his son Ulrick with the young princess, combined,
with the dictates of a sounder policy, to incline him to a neutrality.
At the same time, England, Holland, and France came forward with the
gratifying assurances to the regency of continued friendship and
support, and encouraged them, with one voice, to prosecute with activity
the war, which hitherto had been conducted with so much glory. Whatever
reason France might have to congratulate itself on the death of the
Swedish conqueror, it was as fully sensible of the expediency of
maintaining the alliance with Sweden. Without exposing itself to great
danger, it could not allow the power of Sweden to sink in Germany. Want
of resources of its own, would either drive Sweden to conclude a hasty
and disadvantageous peace with Austria, and then all the past efforts to
lower the ascendancy of this dangerous power would be thrown away; or
necessity and despair would drive the armies to extort from the Roman
Catholic states the means of support, and France would then be regarded
as the betrayer of those very states, who had placed themselves under
her powerful protection. The death of Gustavus, far from breaking up
the alliance between France and Sweden, had only rendered it more
necessary for both, and more profitable for France. Now, for the first
time, since he was dead who had stretched his protecting arm over
Germany, and guarded its frontiers against the encroaching designs of
France, could the latter safely pursue its designs upon Alsace, and thus
be enabled to sell its aid to the German Protestants at a dearer rate.

Strengthened by these alliances, secured in its interior, and defended
from without by strong frontier garrisons and fleets, the regency did
not delay an instant to continue a war, by which Sweden had little of
its own to lose, while, if success attended its arms, one or more of the
German provinces might be won, either as a conquest, or indemnification
of its expenses. Secure amidst its seas, Sweden, even if driven out of
Germany, would scarcely be exposed to greater peril, than if it
voluntarily retired from the contest, while the former measure was as
honourable, as the latter was disgraceful. The more boldness the
regency displayed, the more confidence would they inspire among their
confederates, the more respect among their enemies, and the more
favourable conditions might they anticipate in the event of peace. If
they found themselves too weak to execute the wide-ranging projects of
Gustavus, they at least owed it to this lofty model to do their utmost,
and to yield to no difficulty short of absolute necessity. Alas, that
motives of self-interest had too great a share in this noble
determination, to demand our unqualified admiration! For those who had
nothing themselves to suffer from the calamities of war, but were rather
to be enriched by it, it was an easy matter to resolve upon its
continuation; for the German empire was, in the end, to defray the
expenses; and the provinces on which they reckoned, would be cheaply
purchased with the few troops they sacrificed to them, and with the
generals who were placed at the head of armies, composed for the most
part of Germans, and with the honourable superintendence of all the
operations, both military and political.

But this superintendence was irreconcileable with the distance of the
Swedish regency from the scene of action, and with the slowness which
necessarily accompanies all the movements of a council.

To one comprehensive mind must be intrusted the management of Swedish
interests in Germany, and with full powers to determine at discretion
all questions of war and peace, the necessary alliances, or the
acquisitions made. With dictatorial power, and with the whole influence
of the crown which he was to represent, must this important magistrate
be invested, in order to maintain its dignity, to enforce united and
combined operations, to give effect to his orders, and to supply the
place of the monarch whom he succeeded. Such a man was found in the
Chancellor Oxenstiern, the first minister, and what is more, the friend
of the deceased king, who, acquainted with all the secrets of his
master, versed in the politics of Germany, and in the relations of all
the states of Europe, was unquestionably the fittest instrument to carry
out the plans of Gustavus Adolphus in their full extent.

Oxenstiern was on his way to Upper Germany, in order to assemble the
four Upper Circles, when the news of the king's death reached him at
Hanau. This was a heavy blow, both to the friend and the statesman.
Sweden, indeed, had lost but a king, Germany a protector; but
Oxenstiern, the author of his fortunes, the friend of his soul, and the
object of his admiration. Though the greatest sufferer in the general
loss, he was the first who by his energy rose from the blow, and the
only one qualified to repair it. His penetrating glance foresaw all the
obstacles which would oppose the execution of his plans, the
discouragement of the estates, the intrigues of hostile courts, the
breaking up of the confederacy, the jealousy of the leaders, and the
dislike of princes of the empire to submit to foreign authority. But
even this deep insight into the existing state of things, which revealed
the whole extent of the evil, showed him also the means by which it
might be overcome. It was essential to revive the drooping courage of
the weaker states, to meet the secret machinations of the enemy, to
allay the jealousy of the more powerful allies, to rouse the friendly
powers, and France in particular, to active assistance; but above all,
to repair the ruined edifice of the German alliance, and to reunite the
scattered strength of the party by a close and permanent bond of union.
The dismay which the loss of their leader occasioned the German
Protestants, might as readily dispose them to a closer alliance with
Sweden, as to a hasty peace with the Emperor; and it depended entirely
upon the course pursued, which of these alternatives they would adopt.
Every thing might be lost by the slightest sign of despondency; nothing,
but the confidence which Sweden showed in herself, could kindle among
the Germans a noble feeling of self-confidence. All the attempts of
Austria, to detach these princes from the Swedish alliance, would be
unavailing, the moment their eyes became opened to their true interests,
and they were instigated to a public and formal breach with the Emperor.

Before these measures could be taken, and the necessary points settled
between the regency and their minister, a precious opportunity of action
would, it is true, be lost to the Swedish army, of which the enemy would
be sure to take the utmost advantage. It was, in short, in the power of
the Emperor totally to ruin the Swedish interest in Germany, and to this
he was actually invited by the prudent councils of the Duke of
Friedland. Wallenstein advised him to proclaim a universal amnesty, and
to meet the Protestant states with favourable conditions. In the first
consternation produced by the fall of Gustavus Adolphus, such a
declaration would have had the most powerful effects, and probably would
have brought the wavering states back to their allegiance. But blinded
by this unexpected turn of fortune, and infatuated by Spanish counsels,
he anticipated a more brilliant issue from war, and, instead of
listening to these propositions of an accommodation, he hastened to
augment his forces. Spain, enriched by the grant of the tenth of the
ecclesiastical possessions, which the pope confirmed, sent him
considerable supplies, negociated for him at the Saxon court, and
hastily levied troops for him in Italy to be employed in Germany. The
Elector of Bavaria also considerably increased his military force; and
the restless disposition of the Duke of Lorraine did not permit him to
remain inactive in this favourable change of fortune. But while the
enemy were thus busy to profit by the disaster of Sweden, Oxenstiern was
diligent to avert its most fatal consequences.

Less apprehensive of open enemies, than of the jealousy of the friendly
powers, he left Upper Germany, which he had secured by conquests and
alliances, and set out in person to prevent a total defection of the
Lower German states, or, what would have been almost equally ruinous to
Sweden, a private alliance among themselves. Offended at the boldness
with which the chancellor assumed the direction of affairs, and inwardly
exasperated at the thought of being dictated to by a Swedish nobleman,
the Elector of Saxony again meditated a dangerous separation from
Sweden; and the only question in his mind was, whether he should make
full terms with the Emperor, or place himself at the head of the
Protestants and form a third party in Germany. Similar ideas were
cherished by Duke Ulric of Brunswick, who, indeed, showed them openly
enough by forbidding the Swedes from recruiting within his dominions,
and inviting the Lower Saxon states to Luneburg, for the purpose of
forming a confederacy among themselves. The Elector of Brandenburg,
jealous of the influence which Saxony was likely to attain in Lower
Germany, alone manifested any zeal for the interests of the Swedish
throne, which, in thought, he already destined for his son. At the
court of Saxony, Oxenstiern was no doubt honourably received; but,
notwithstanding the personal efforts of the Elector of Brandenburg,
empty promises of continued friendship were all which he could obtain.
With the Duke of Brunswick he was more successful, for with him he
ventured to assume a bolder tone. Sweden was at the time in possession
of the See of Magdeburg, the bishop of which had the power of assembling
the Lower Saxon circle. The chancellor now asserted the rights of the
crown, and by this spirited proceeding, put a stop for the present to
this dangerous assembly designed by the duke. The main object, however,
of his present journey and of his future endeavours, a general
confederacy of the Protestants, miscarried entirely, and he was obliged
to content himself with some unsteady alliances in the Saxon circles,
and with the weaker assistance of Upper Germany.

As the Bavarians were too powerful on the Danube, the assembly of the
four Upper Circles, which should have been held at Ulm, was removed to
Heilbronn, where deputies of more than twelve cities of the empire, with
a brilliant crowd of doctors, counts, and princes, attended. The
ambassadors of foreign powers likewise, France, England, and Holland,
attended this Congress, at which Oxenstiern appeared in person, with all
the splendour of the crown whose representative he was. He himself
opened the proceedings, and conducted the deliberations. After
receiving from all the assembled estates assurances of unshaken
fidelity, perseverance, and unity, he required of them solemnly and
formally to declare the Emperor and the league as enemies. But
desirable as it was for Sweden to exasperate the ill-feeling between the
emperor and the estates into a formal rupture, the latter, on the other
hand, were equally indisposed to shut out the possibility of
reconciliation, by so decided a step, and to place themselves entirely
in the hands of the Swedes. They maintained, that any formal
declaration of war was useless and superfluous, where the act would
speak for itself, and their firmness on this point silenced at last the
chancellor. Warmer disputes arose on the third and principal article of
the treaty, concerning the means of prosecuting the war, and the quota
which the several states ought to furnish for the support of the army.
Oxenstiern's maxim, to throw as much as possible of the common burden on
the states, did not suit very well with their determination to give as
little as possible. The Swedish chancellor now experienced, what had
been felt by thirty emperors before him, to their cost, that of all
difficult undertakings, the most difficult was to extort money from the
Germans. Instead of granting the necessary sums for the new armies to
be raised, they eloquently dwelt upon the calamities occasioned by the
former, and demanded relief from the old burdens, when they were
required to submit to new. The irritation which the chancellor's demand
for money raised among the states, gave rise to a thousand complaints;
and the outrages committed by the troops, in their marches and quarters,
were dwelt upon with a startling minuteness and truth.

In the service of two absolute monarchs, Oxenstiern had but little
opportunity to become accustomed to the formalities and cautious
proceedings of republican deliberations, or to bear opposition with
patience. Ready to act, the instant the necessity of action was
apparent, and inflexible in his resolution, when he had once taken it,
he was at a loss to comprehend the inconsistency of most men, who, while
they desire the end, are yet averse to the means. Prompt and impetuous
by nature, he was so on this occasion from principle; for every thing
depended on concealing the weakness of Sweden, under a firm and
confident speech, and by assuming the tone of a lawgiver, really to
become so. It was nothing wonderful, therefore, if, amidst these
interminable discussions with German doctors and deputies, he was
entirely out of his sphere, and if the deliberateness which
distinguishes the character of the Germans in their public
deliberations, had driven him almost to despair. Without respecting a
custom, to which even the most powerful of the emperors had been obliged
to conform, he rejected all written deliberations which suited so well
with the national slowness of resolve. He could not conceive how ten
days could be spent in debating a measure, which with himself was
decided upon its bare suggestion. Harshly, however, as he treated the
States, he found them ready enough to assent to his fourth motion, which
concerned himself. When he pointed out the necessity of giving a head
and a director to the new confederation, that honour was unanimously
assigned to Sweden, and he himself was humbly requested to give to the
common cause the benefit of his enlightened experience, and to take upon
himself the burden of the supreme command. But in order to prevent his
abusing the great powers thus conferred upon him, it was proposed, not
without French influence, to appoint a number of overseers, in fact,
under the name of assistants, to control the expenditure of the common
treasure, and to consult with him as to the levies, marches, and
quarterings of the troops. Oxenstiern long and strenuously resisted
this limitation of his authority, which could not fail to trammel him in
the execution of every enterprise requiring promptitude or secrecy, and
at last succeeded, with difficulty, in obtaining so far a modification
of it, that his management in affairs of war was to be uncontrolled.
The chancellor finally approached the delicate point of the
indemnification which Sweden was to expect at the conclusion of the war,
from the gratitude of the allies, and flattered himself with the hope
that Pomerania, the main object of Sweden, would be assigned to her, and
that he would obtain from the provinces, assurances of effectual
cooperation in its acquisition. But he could obtain nothing more than a
vague assurance, that in a general peace the interests of all parties
would be attended to. That on this point, the caution of the estates
was not owing to any regard for the constitution of the empire, became
manifest from the liberality they evinced towards the chancellor, at the
expense of the most sacred laws of the empire. They were ready to grant
him the archbishopric of Mentz, (which he already held as a conquest,)
and only with difficulty did the French ambassador succeed in preventing
a step, which was as impolitic as it was disgraceful. Though on the
whole, the result of the congress had fallen far short of Oxenstiern's
expectations, he had at least gained for himself and his crown his main
object, namely, the direction of the whole confederacy; he had also
succeeded in strengthening the bond of union between the four upper
circles, and obtained from the states a yearly contribution of two
millions and a half of dollars, for the maintenance of the army.

These concessions on the part of the States, demanded some return from
Sweden. A few weeks after the death of Gustavus Adolphus, sorrow ended
the days of the unfortunate Elector Palatine. For eight months he had
swelled the pomp of his protector's court, and expended on it the small
remainder of his patrimony. He was, at last, approaching the goal of
his wishes, and the prospect of a brighter future was opening, when
death deprived him of his protector. But what he regarded as the
greatest calamity, was highly favourable to his heirs. Gustavus might
venture to delay the restoration of his dominions, or to load the gift
with hard conditions; but Oxenstiern, to whom the friendship of England,
Holland, and Brandenburg, and the good opinion of the Reformed States
were indispensable, felt the necessity of immediately fulfilling the
obligations of justice. At this assembly, at Heilbronn, therefore, he
engaged to surrender to Frederick's heirs the whole Palatinate, both the
part already conquered, and that which remained to be conquered, with
the exception of Manheim, which the Swedes were to hold, until they
should be indemnified for their expenses. The Chancellor did not
confine his liberality to the family of the Palatine alone; the other
allied princes received proofs, though at a later period, of the
gratitude of Sweden, which, however, she dispensed at little cost to
herself.

Impartiality, the most sacred obligation of the historian, here compels
us to an admission, not much to the honour of the champions of German
liberty. However the Protestant Princes might boast of the justice of
their cause, and the sincerity of their conviction, still the motives
from which they acted were selfish enough; and the desire of stripping
others of their possessions, had at least as great a share in the
commencement of hostilities, as the fear of being deprived of their own.
Gustavus soon found that he might reckon much more on these selfish
motives, than on their patriotic zeal, and did not fail to avail himself
of them. Each of his confederates received from him the promise of some
possession, either already wrested, or to be afterwards taken from the
enemy; and death alone prevented him from fulfilling these engagements.
What prudence had suggested to the king, necessity now prescribed to his
successor. If it was his object to continue the war, he must be ready
to divide the spoil among the allies, and promise them advantages from
the confusion which it was his object to continue. Thus he promised to
the Landgrave of Hesse, the abbacies of Paderborn, Corvey, Munster, and
Fulda; to Duke Bernard of Weimar, the Franconian Bishoprics; to the Duke
of Wirtemberg, the Ecclesiastical domains, and the Austrian counties
lying within his territories, all under the title of fiefs of Sweden.
This spectacle, so strange and so dishonourable to the German character,
surprised the Chancellor, who found it difficult to repress his
contempt, and on one occasion exclaimed, "Let it be writ in our records,
for an everlasting memorial, that a German prince made such a request of
a Swedish nobleman, and that the Swedish nobleman granted it to the
German upon German ground!"

After these successful measures, he was in a condition to take the
field, and prosecute the war with fresh vigour. Soon after the victory
at Lutzen, the troops of Saxony and Lunenburg united with the Swedish
main body; and the Imperialists were, in a short time, totally driven
from Saxony. The united army again divided: the Saxons marched towards
Lusatia and Silesia, to act in conjunction with Count Thurn against the
Austrians in that quarter; a part of the Swedish army was led by the
Duke of Weimar into Franconia, and the other by George, Duke of
Brunswick, into Westphalia and Lower Saxony.

The conquests on the Lech and the Danube, during Gustavus's expedition
into Saxony, had been maintained by the Palatine of Birkenfeld, and the
Swedish General Banner, against the Bavarians; but unable to hold their
ground against the victorious progress of the latter, supported as they
were by the bravery and military experience of the Imperial General
Altringer, they were under the necessity of summoning the Swedish
General Horn to their assistance, from Alsace. This experienced general
having captured the towns of Benfeld, Schlettstadt, Colmar, and Hagenau,
committed the defence of them to the Rhinegrave Otto Louis, and hastily
crossed the Rhine to form a junction with Banner's army. But although
the combined force amounted to more than 16,000, they could not prevent
the enemy from obtaining a strong position on the Swabian frontier,
taking Kempten, and being joined by seven regiments from Bohemia. In
order to retain the command of the important banks of the Lech and the
Danube, they were under the necessity of recalling the Rhinegrave Otto
Louis from Alsace, where he had, after the departure of Horn, found it
difficult to defend himself against the exasperated peasantry. With his
army, he was now summoned to strengthen the army on the Danube; and as
even this reinforcement was insufficient, Duke Bernard of Weimar was
earnestly pressed to turn his arms into this quarter.

Duke Bernard, soon after the opening of the campaign of 1633, had made
himself master of the town and territory of Bamberg, and was now
threatening Wurtzburg. But on receiving the summons of General Horn,
without delay he began his march towards the Danube, defeated on his way
a Bavarian army under John de Werth, and joined the Swedes near
Donauwerth. This numerous force, commanded by excellent generals, now
threatened Bavaria with a fearful inroad. The bishopric of Eichstadt
was completely overrun, and Ingoldstadt was on the point of being
delivered up by treachery to the Swedes. Altringer, fettered in his
movements by the express order of the Duke of Friedland, and left
without assistance from Bohemia, was unable to check the progress of the
enemy. The most favourable circumstances combined to further the
progress of the Swedish arms in this quarter, when the operations of the
army were at once stopped by a mutiny among the officers.

All the previous successes in Germany were owing altogether to arms; the
greatness of Gustavus himself was the work of the army, the fruit of
their discipline, their bravery, and their persevering courage under
numberless dangers and privations. However wisely his plans were laid
in the cabinet, it was to the army ultimately that he was indebted for
their execution; and the expanding designs of the general did but
continually impose new burdens on the soldiers. All the decisive
advantages of the war, had been violently gained by a barbarous
sacrifice of the soldiers' lives in winter campaigns, forced marches,
stormings, and pitched battles; for it was Gustavus's maxim never to
decline a battle, so long as it cost him nothing but men. The soldiers
could not long be kept ignorant of their own importance, and they justly
demanded a share in the spoil which had been won by their own blood.
Yet, frequently, they hardly received their pay; and the rapacity of
individual generals, or the wants of the state, generally swallowed up
the greater part of the sums raised by contributions, or levied upon the
conquered provinces. For all the privations he endured, the soldier had
no other recompense than the doubtful chance either of plunder or
promotion, in both of which he was often disappointed. During the
lifetime of Gustavus Adolphus, the combined influence of fear and hope
had suppressed any open complaint, but after his death, the murmurs were
loud and universal; and the soldiery seized the most dangerous moment to
impress their superiors with a sense of their importance. Two officers,
Pfuhl and Mitschefal, notorious as restless characters, even during the
King's life, set the example in the camp on the Danube, which in a few
days was imitated by almost all the officers of the army. They solemnly
bound themselves to obey no orders, till these arrears, now outstanding
for months, and even years, should be paid up, and a gratuity, either in
money or lands, made to each man, according to his services. "Immense
sums," they said, "were daily raised by contributions, and all
dissipated by a few. They were called out to serve amidst frost and
snow, and no reward requited their incessant labours. The soldiers'
excesses at Heilbronn had been blamed, but no one ever talked of their
services. The world rung with the tidings of conquests and victories,
but it was by their hands that they had been fought and won."

The number of the malcontents daily increased; and they even attempted
by letters, (which were fortunately intercepted,) to seduce the armies
on the Rhine and in Saxony. Neither the representations of Bernard of
Weimar, nor the stern reproaches of his harsher associate in command,
could suppress this mutiny, while the vehemence of Horn seemed only to
increase the insolence of the insurgents. The conditions they insisted
on, were that certain towns should be assigned to each regiment for the
payment of arrears. Four weeks were allowed to the Swedish Chancellor
to comply with these demands; and in case of refusal, they announced
that they would pay themselves, and never more draw a sword for Sweden.

These pressing demands, made at the very time when the military chest
was exhausted, and credit at a low ebb, greatly embarrassed the
chancellor. The remedy, he saw, must be found quickly, before the
contagion should spread to the other troops, and he should be deserted
by all his armies at once. Among all the Swedish generals, there was
only one of sufficient authority and influence with the soldiers to put
an end to this dispute. The Duke of Weimar was the favourite of the
army, and his prudent moderation had won the good-will of the soldiers,
while his military experience had excited their admiration. He now
undertook the task of appeasing the discontented troops; but, aware of
his importance, he embraced the opportunity to make advantageous
stipulations for himself, and to make the embarrassment of the
chancellor subservient to his own views.

Gustavus Adolphus had flattered him with the promise of the Duchy of
Franconia, to be formed out of the Bishoprics of Wurtzburg and Bamberg,
and he now insisted on the performance of this pledge. He at the same
time demanded the chief command, as generalissimo of Sweden. The abuse
which the Duke of Weimar thus made of his influence, so irritated
Oxenstiern, that, in the first moment of his displeasure, he gave him
his dismissal from the Swedish service. But he soon thought better of
it, and determined, instead of sacrificing so important a leader, to
attach him to the Swedish interests at any cost. He therefore granted
to him the Franconian bishoprics, as a fief of the Swedish crown,
reserving, however, the two fortresses of Wurtzburg and Koenigshofen,
which were to be garrisoned by the Swedes; and also engaged, in name of
the Swedish crown, to secure these territories to the duke. His demand
of the supreme authority was evaded on some specious pretext. The duke
did not delay to display his gratitude for this valuable grant, and by
his influence and activity soon restored tranquillity to the army.
Large sums of money, and still more extensive estates, were divided
among the officers, amounting in value to about five millions of
dollars, and to which they had no other right but that of conquest. In
the mean time, however, the opportunity for a great undertaking had been
lost, and the united generals divided their forces to oppose the enemy
in other quarters.

Gustavus Horn, after a short inroad into the Upper Palatinate, and the
capture of Neumark, directed his march towards the Swabian frontier,
where the Imperialists, strongly reinforced, threatened Wuertemberg. At
his approach, the enemy retired to the Lake of Constance, but only to
show the Swedes the road into a district hitherto unvisited by war. A
post on the entrance to Switzerland, would be highly serviceable to the
Swedes, and the town of Kostnitz seemed peculiarly well fitted to be a
point of communication between him and the confederated cantons.
Accordingly, Gustavus Horn immediately commenced the siege of it; but
destitute of artillery, for which he was obliged to send to Wirtemberg,
he could not press the attack with sufficient vigour, to prevent the
enemy from throwing supplies into the town, which the lake afforded them
convenient opportunity of doing. He, therefore, after an ineffectual
attempt, quitted the place and its neighbourhood, and hastened to meet a
more threatening danger upon the Danube.

At the Emperor's instigation, the Cardinal Infante, the brother of
Philip IV. of Spain, and the Viceroy of Milan, had raised an army of
14,000 men, intended to act upon the Rhine, independently of
Wallenstein, and to protect Alsace. This force now appeared in Bavaria,
under the command of the Duke of Feria, a Spaniard; and, that they might
be directly employed against the Swedes, Altringer was ordered to join
them with his corps. Upon the first intelligence of their approach,
Horn had summoned to his assistance the Palsgrave of Birkenfeld, from
the Rhine; and being joined by him at Stockach, boldly advanced to meet
the enemy's army of 30,000 men.

The latter had taken the route across the Danube into Swabia, where
Gustavus Horn came so close upon them, that the two armies were only
separated from each other by half a German mile. But, instead of
accepting the offer of battle, the Imperialists moved by the Forest
towns towards Briesgau and Alsace, where they arrived in time to relieve
Breysack, and to arrest the victorious progress of the Rhinegrave, Otto
Louis. The latter had, shortly before, taken the Forest towns, and,
supported by the Palatine of Birkenfeld, who had liberated the Lower
Palatinate and beaten the Duke of Lorraine out of the field, had once
more given the superiority to the Swedish arms in that quarter. He was
now forced to retire before the superior numbers of the enemy; but Horn
and Birkenfeld quickly advanced to his support, and the Imperialists,
after a brief triumph, were again expelled from Alsace. The severity of
the autumn, in which this hapless retreat had to be conducted, proved
fatal to most of the Italians; and their leader, the Duke of Feria, died
of grief at the failure of his enterprise.

In the mean time, Duke Bernard of Weimar had taken up his position on
the Danube, with eighteen regiments of infantry and 140 squadrons of
horse, to cover Franconia, and to watch the movements of the
Imperial-Bavarian army upon that river. No sooner had Altringer
departed, to join the Italians under Feria, than Bernard, profiting by
his absence, hastened across the Danube, and with the rapidity of
lightning appeared before Ratisbon. The possession of this town would
ensure the success of the Swedish designs upon Bavaria and Austria; it
would establish them firmly on the Danube, and provide a safe refuge in
case of defeat, while it alone could give permanence to their conquests
in that quarter. To defend Ratisbon, was the urgent advice which the
dying Tilly left to the Elector; and Gustavus Adolphus had lamented it
as an irreparable loss, that the Bavarians had anticipated him in taking
possession of this place. Indescribable, therefore, was the
consternation of Maximilian, when Duke Bernard suddenly appeared before
the town, and prepared in earnest to besiege it.

The garrison consisted of not more than fifteen companies, mostly
newly-raised soldiers; although that number was more than sufficient to
weary out an enemy of far superior force, if supported by well-disposed
and warlike inhabitants. But this was not the greatest danger which the
Bavarian garrison had to contend against. The Protestant inhabitants of
Ratisbon, equally jealous of their civil and religious freedom, had
unwillingly submitted to the yoke of Bavaria, and had long looked with
impatience for the appearance of a deliverer. Bernard's arrival before
the walls filled them with lively joy; and there was much reason to fear
that they would support the attempts of the besiegers without, by
exciting a tumult within. In this perplexity, the Elector addressed the
most pressing entreaties to the Emperor and the Duke of Friedland to
assist him, were it only with 5,000 men. Seven messengers in succession
were despatched by Ferdinand to Wallenstein, who promised immediate
succours, and even announced to the Elector the near advance of 12,000
men under Gallas; but at the same time forbade that general, under pain
of death, to march. Meanwhile the Bavarian commandant of Ratisbon, in
the hope of speedy assistance, made the best preparations for defence,
armed the Roman Catholic peasants, disarmed and carefully watched the
Protestant citizens, lest they should attempt any hostile design against
the garrison. But as no relief arrived, and the enemy's artillery
incessantly battered the walls, he consulted his own safety, and that of
the garrison, by an honourable capitulation, and abandoned the Bavarian
officials and ecclesiastics to the conqueror's mercy.

The possession of Ratisbon, enlarged the projects of the duke, and
Bavaria itself now appeared too narrow a field for his bold designs. He
determined to penetrate to the frontiers of Austria, to arm the
Protestant peasantry against the Emperor, and restore to them their
religious liberty. He had already taken Straubingen, while another
Swedish army was advancing successfully along the northern bank of the
Danube. At the head of his Swedes, bidding defiance to the severity of
the weather, he reached the mouth of the Iser, which he passed in the
presence of the Bavarian General Werth, who was encamped on that river.
Passau and Lintz trembled for their fate; the terrified Emperor
redoubled his entreaties and commands to Wallenstein, to hasten with all
speed to the relief of the hard-pressed Bavarians. But here the
victorious Bernard, of his own accord, checked his career of conquest.
Having in front of him the river Inn, guarded by a number of strong
fortresses, and behind him two hostile armies, a disaffected country,
and the river Iser, while his rear was covered by no tenable position,
and no entrenchment could be made in the frozen ground, and threatened
by the whole force of Wallenstein, who had at last resolved to march to
the Danube, by a timely retreat he escaped the danger of being cut off
from Ratisbon, and surrounded by the enemy. He hastened across the Iser
to the Danube, to defend the conquests he had made in the Upper
Palatinate against Wallenstein, and fully resolved not to decline a
battle, if necessary, with that general. But Wallenstein, who was not
disposed for any great exploits on the Danube, did not wait for his
approach; and before the Bavarians could congratulate themselves on his
arrival, he suddenly withdrew again into Bohemia. The duke thus ended
his victorious campaign, and allowed his troops their well-earned repose
in winter quarters upon an enemy's country.

While in Swabia the war was thus successfully conducted by Gustavus
Horn, and on the Upper and Lower Rhine by the Palatine of Birkenfeld,
General Baudissen, and the Rhinegrave Otto Louis, and by Duke Bernard on
the Danube; the reputation of the Swedish arms was as gloriously
sustained in Lower Saxony and Westphalia by the Duke of Lunenburg and
the Landgrave of Hesse Cassel. The fortress of Hamel was taken by Duke
George, after a brave defence, and a brilliant victory obtained over the
imperial General Gronsfeld, by the united Swedish and Hessian armies,
near Oldendorf. Count Wasaburg, a natural son of Gustavus Adolphus,
showed himself in this battle worthy of his descent. Sixteen pieces of
cannon, the whole baggage of the Imperialists, together with 74 colours,
fell into the hands of the Swedes; 3,000 of the enemy perished on the
field, and nearly the same number were taken prisoners. The town of
Osnaburg surrendered to the Swedish Colonel Knyphausen, and Paderborn to
the Landgrave of Hesse; while, on the other hand, Bueckeburg, a very
important place for the Swedes, fell into the hands of the Imperialists.
The Swedish banners were victorious in almost every quarter of Germany;
and the year after the death of Gustavus, left no trace of the loss
which had been sustained in the person of that great leader.

In a review of the important events which signalized the campaign of
1633, the inactivity of a man, of whom the highest expectations had been
formed, justly excites astonishment. Among all the generals who
distinguished themselves in this campaign, none could be compared with
Wallenstein, in experience, talents, and reputation; and yet, after the
battle of Lutzen, we lose sight of him entirely. The fall of his great
rival had left the whole theatre of glory open to him; all Europe was
now attentively awaiting those exploits, which should efface the
remembrance of his defeat, and still prove to the world his military
superiority. Nevertheless, he continued inactive in Bohemia, while the
Emperor's losses in Bavaria, Lower Saxony, and the Rhine, pressingly
called for his presence--a conduct equally unintelligible to friend and
foe--the terror, and, at the same time, the last hope of the Emperor.
After the defeat of Lutzen he had hastened into Bohemia, where he
instituted the strictest inquiry into the conduct of his officers in
that battle. Those whom the council of war declared guilty of
misconduct, were put to death without mercy, those who had behaved with
bravery, rewarded with princely munificence, and the memory of the dead
honoured by splendid monuments. During the winter, he oppressed the
imperial provinces by enormous contributions, and exhausted the Austrian
territories by his winter quarters, which he purposely avoided taking up
in an enemy's country. And in the spring of 1633, instead of being the
first to open the campaign, with this well-chosen and well-appointed
army, and to make a worthy display of his great abilities, he was the
last who appeared in the field; and even then, it was an hereditary
province of Austria, which he selected as the seat of war.

Of all the Austrian provinces, Silesia was most exposed to danger.
Three different armies, a Swedish under Count Thurn, a Saxon under
Arnheim and the Duke of Lauenburg, and one of Brandenburg under
Borgsdorf, had at the same time carried the war into this country; they
had already taken possession of the most important places, and even
Breslau had embraced the cause of the allies. But this crowd of
commanders and armies was the very means of saving this province to the
Emperor; for the jealousy of the generals, and the mutual hatred of the
Saxons and the Swedes, never allowed them to act with unanimity.
Arnheim and Thurn contended for the chief command; the troops of
Brandenburg and Saxony combined against the Swedes, whom they looked
upon as troublesome strangers who ought to be got rid of as soon as
possible. The Saxons, on the contrary, lived on a very intimate footing
with the Imperialists, and the officers of both these hostile armies
often visited and entertained each other. The Imperialists were allowed
to remove their property without hindrance, and many did not affect to
conceal that they had received large sums from Vienna. Among such
equivocal allies, the Swedes saw themselves sold and betrayed; and any
great enterprise was out of the question, while so bad an understanding
prevailed between the troops. General Arnheim, too, was absent the
greater part of the time; and when he at last returned, Wallenstein was
fast approaching the frontiers with a formidable force.

His army amounted to 40,000 men, while to oppose him the allies had only
24,000. They nevertheless resolved to give him battle, and marched to
Munsterberg, where he had formed an intrenched camp. But Wallenstein
remained inactive for eight days; he then left his intrenchments, and
marched slowly and with composure to the enemy's camp. But even after
quitting his position, and when the enemy, emboldened by his past delay,
manfully prepared to receive him, he declined the opportunity of
fighting. The caution with which he avoided a battle was imputed to
fear; but the well-established reputation of Wallenstein enabled him to
despise this suspicion. The vanity of the allies allowed them not to
see that he purposely saved them a defeat, because a victory at that
time would not have served his own ends. To convince them of his
superior power, and that his inactivity proceeded not from any fear of
them, he put to death the commander of a castle that fell into his
hands, because he had refused at once to surrender an untenable place.

For nine days, did the two armies remain within musket-shot of each
other, when Count Terzky, from the camp of the Imperialists, appeared
with a trumpeter in that of the allies, inviting General Arnheim to a
conference. The purport was, that Wallenstein, notwithstanding his
superiority, was willing to agree to a cessation of arms for six weeks.
"He was come," he said, "to conclude a lasting peace with the Swedes,
and with the princes of the empire, to pay the soldiers, and to satisfy
every one. All this was in his power; and if the Austrian court
hesitated to confirm his agreement, he would unite with the allies, and
(as he privately whispered to Arnheim) hunt the Emperor to the devil."
At the second conference, he expressed himself still more plainly to
Count Thurn. "All the privileges of the Bohemians," he engaged, "should
be confirmed anew, the exiles recalled and restored to their estates,
and he himself would be the first to resign his share of them. The
Jesuits, as the authors of all past grievances, should be banished, the
Swedish crown indemnified by stated payments, and all the superfluous
troops on both sides employed against the Turks." The last article
explained the whole mystery. "If," he continued, "HE should obtain the
crown of Bohemia, all the exiles would have reason to applaud his
generosity; perfect toleration of religions should be established within
the kingdom, the Palatine family be reinstated in its rights, and he
would accept the Margraviate of Moravia as a compensation for
Mecklenburg. The allied armies would then, under his command, advance
upon Vienna, and sword in hand, compel the Emperor to ratify the
treaty."

Thus was the veil at last removed from the schemes, over which he had
brooded for years in mysterious silence. Every circumstance now
convinced him that not a moment was to be lost in its execution.
Nothing but a blind confidence in the good fortune and military genius
of the Duke of Friedland, had induced the Emperor, in the face of the
remonstrances of Bavaria and Spain, and at the expense of his own
reputation, to confer upon this imperious leader such an unlimited
command. But this belief in Wallenstein's being invincible, had been
much weakened by his inaction, and almost entirely overthrown by the
defeat at Lutzen. His enemies at the imperial court now renewed their
intrigues; and the Emperor's disappointment at the failure of his hopes,
procured for their remonstrances a favourable reception. Wallenstein's
whole conduct was now reviewed with the most malicious criticism; his
ambitious haughtiness, his disobedience to the Emperor's orders, were
recalled to the recollection of that jealous prince, as well as the
complaints of the Austrian subjects against his boundless oppression;
his fidelity was questioned, and alarming hints thrown out as to his
secret views. These insinuations, which the conduct of the duke seemed
but too well to justify, failed not to make a deep impression on
Ferdinand; but the step had been taken, and the great power with which
Wallenstein had been invested, could not be taken from him without
danger. Insensibly to diminish that power, was the only course that now
remained, and, to effect this, it must in the first place be divided;
but, above all, the Emperor's present dependence on the good will of his
general put an end to. But even this right had been resigned in his
engagement with Wallenstein, and the Emperor's own handwriting secured
him against every attempt to unite another general with him in the
command, or to exercise any immediate act of authority over the troops.
As this disadvantageous contract could neither be kept nor broken,
recourse was had to artifice. Wallenstein was Imperial Generalissimo in
Germany, but his command extended no further, and he could not presume
to exercise any authority over a foreign army. A Spanish army was
accordingly raised in Milan, and marched into Germany under a Spanish
general. Wallenstein now ceased to be indispensable because he was no
longer supreme, and in case of necessity, the Emperor was now provided
with the means of support even against him.

The duke quickly and deeply felt whence this blow came, and whither it
was aimed. In vain did he protest against this violation of the
compact, to the Cardinal Infante; the Italian army continued its march,
and he was forced to detach General Altringer to join it with a
reinforcement. He took care, indeed, so closely to fetter the latter,
as to prevent the Italian army from acquiring any great reputation in
Alsace and Swabia; but this bold step of the court awakened him from his
security, and warned him of the approach of danger. That he might not a
second time be deprived of his command, and lose the fruit of all his
labours, he must accelerate the accomplishment of his long meditated
designs. He secured the attachment of his troops by removing the
doubtful officers, and by his liberality to the rest. He had sacrificed
to the welfare of the army every other order in the state, every
consideration of justice and humanity, and therefore he reckoned upon
their gratitude. At the very moment when he meditated an unparalleled
act of ingratitude against the author of his own good fortune, he
founded all his hopes upon the gratitude which was due to himself.

The leaders of the Silesian armies had no authority from their
principals to consent, on their own discretion, to such important
proposals as those of Wallenstein, and they did not even feel themselves
warranted in granting, for more than a fortnight, the cessation of
hostilities which he demanded. Before the duke disclosed his designs to
Sweden and Saxony, he had deemed it advisable to secure the sanction of
France to his bold undertaking. For this purpose, a secret negociation
had been carried on with the greatest possible caution and distrust, by
Count Kinsky with Feuquieres, the French ambassador at Dresden, and had
terminated according to his wishes. Feuquieres received orders from his
court to promise every assistance on the part of France, and to offer
the duke a considerable pecuniary aid in case of need.

But it was this excessive caution to secure himself on all sides, that
led to his ruin. The French ambassador with astonishment discovered
that a plan, which, more than any other, required secrecy, had been
communicated to the Swedes and the Saxons. And yet it was generally
known that the Saxon ministry was in the interests of the Emperor, and
on the other hand, the conditions offered to the Swedes fell too far
short of their expectations to be likely to be accepted. Feuquieres,
therefore, could not believe that the duke could be serious in
calculating upon the aid of the latter, and the silence of the former.
He communicated accordingly his doubts and anxieties to the Swedish
chancellor, who equally distrusted the views of Wallenstein, and
disliked his plans. Although it was no secret to Oxenstiern, that the
duke had formerly entered into a similar negociation with Gustavus
Adolphus, he could not credit the possibility of inducing a whole army
to revolt, and of his extravagant promises. So daring a design, and
such imprudent conduct, seemed not to be consistent with the duke's
reserved and suspicious temper, and he was the more inclined to consider
the whole as the result of dissimulation and treachery, because he had
less reason to doubt his prudence than his honesty.

Oxenstiern's doubts at last affected Arnheim himself, who, in full
confidence in Wallenstein's sincerity, had repaired to the chancellor at
Gelnhausen, to persuade him to lend some of his best regiments to the
duke, to aid him in the execution of the plan. They began to suspect
that the whole proposal was only a snare to disarm the allies, and to
betray the flower of their troops into the hands of the Emperor.
Wallenstein's well-known character did not contradict the suspicion, and
the inconsistencies in which he afterwards involved himself, entirely
destroyed all confidence in his sincerity. While he was endeavouring to
draw the Swedes into this alliance, and requiring the help of their best
troops, he declared to Arnheim that they must begin with expelling the
Swedes from the empire; and while the Saxon officers, relying upon the
security of the truce, repaired in great numbers to his camp, he made an
unsuccessful attempt to seize them. He was the first to break the
truce, which some months afterwards he renewed, though not without great
difficulty. All confidence in his sincerity was lost; his whole conduct
was regarded as a tissue of deceit and low cunning, devised to weaken
the allies and repair his own strength. This indeed he actually did
effect, as his own army daily augmented, while that of the allies was
reduced nearly one half by desertion and bad provisions. But he did not
make that use of his superiority which Vienna expected. When all men
were looking for a decisive blow to be struck, he suddenly renewed the
negociations; and when the truce lulled the allies into security, he as
suddenly recommenced hostilities. All these contradictions arose out of
the double and irreconcileable designs to ruin at once the Emperor and
the Swedes, and to conclude a separate peace with the Saxons.

Impatient at the ill success of his negociations, he at last determined
to display his strength; the more so, as the pressing distress within
the empire, and the growing dissatisfaction of the Imperial court,
admitted not of his making any longer delay. Before the last cessation
of hostilities, General Holk, from Bohemia, had attacked the circle of
Meissen, laid waste every thing on his route with fire and sword, driven
the Elector into his fortresses, and taken the town of Leipzig. But the
truce in Silesia put a period to his ravages, and the consequences of
his excesses brought him to the grave at Adorf. As soon as hostilities
were recommenced, Wallenstein made a movement, as if he designed to
penetrate through Lusatia into Saxony, and circulated the report that
Piccolomini had already invaded that country. Arnheim immediately broke
up his camp in Silesia, to follow him, and hastened to the assistance of
the Electorate. By this means the Swedes were left exposed, who were
encamped in small force under Count Thurn, at Steinau, on the Oder, and
this was exactly what Wallenstein desired. He allowed the Saxon general
to advance sixteen miles towards Meissen, and then suddenly turning
towards the Oder, surprised the Swedish army in the most complete
security. Their cavalry were first beaten by General Schafgotsch, who
was sent against them, and the infantry completely surrounded at Steinau
by the duke's army which followed. Wallenstein gave Count Thurn half an
hour to deliberate whether he would defend himself with 2,500 men,
against more than 20,000, or surrender at discretion. But there was no
room for deliberation. The army surrendered, and the most complete
victory was obtained without bloodshed. Colours, baggage, and artillery
all fell into the hands of the victors, the officers were taken into
custody, the privates drafted into the army of Wallenstein. And now at
last, after a banishment of fourteen years, after numberless changes of
fortune, the author of the Bohemian insurrection, and the remote origin
of this destructive war, the notorious Count Thurn, was in the power of
his enemies. With blood-thirsty impatience, the arrival of this great
criminal was looked for in Vienna, where they already anticipated the
malicious triumph of sacrificing so distinguished a victim to public
justice. But to deprive the Jesuits of this pleasure, was a still
sweeter triumph to Wallenstein, and Thurn was set at liberty.
Fortunately for him, he knew more than it was prudent to have divulged
in Vienna, and his enemies were also those of Wallenstein. A defeat
might have been forgiven in Vienna, but this disappointment of their
hopes they could not pardon. "What should I have done with this
madman?" he writes, with a malicious sneer, to the minister who called
him to account for this unseasonable magnanimity. "Would to Heaven the
enemy had no generals but such as he. At the head of the Swedish army,
he will render us much better service than in prison."

The victory of Steinau was followed by the capture of Liegnitz,
Grossglogau, and even of Frankfort on the Oder. Schafgotsch, who
remained in Silesia to complete the subjugation of that province,
blockaded Brieg, and threatened Breslau, though in vain, as that free
town was jealous of its privileges, and devoted to the Swedes. Colonels
Illo and Goetz were ordered by Wallenstein to the Warta, to push
forwards into Pomerania, and to the coasts of the Baltic, and actually
obtained possession of Landsberg, the key of Pomerania. While thus the
Elector of Brandenburg and the Duke of Pomerania were made to tremble
for their dominions, Wallenstein himself, with the remainder of his
army, burst suddenly into Lusatia, where he took Goerlitz by storm, and
forced Bautzen to surrender. But his object was merely to alarm the
Elector of Saxony, not to follow up the advantages already obtained; and
therefore, even with the sword in his hand, he continued his
negociations for peace with Brandenburg and Saxony, but with no better
success than before, as the inconsistencies of his conduct had destroyed
all confidence in his sincerity. He was therefore on the point of
turning his whole force in earnest against the unfortunate Saxons, and
effecting his object by force of arms, when circumstances compelled him
to leave these territories. The conquests of Duke Bernard upon the
Danube, which threatened Austria itself with immediate danger, urgently
demanded his presence in Bavaria; and the expulsion of the Saxons and
Swedes from Silesia, deprived him of every pretext for longer resisting
the Imperial orders, and leaving the Elector of Bavaria without
assistance. With his main body, therefore, he immediately set out for
the Upper Palatinate, and his retreat freed Upper Saxony for ever of
this formidable enemy.

So long as was possible, he had delayed to move to the rescue of
Bavaria, and on every pretext evaded the commands of the Emperor. He
had, indeed, after reiterated remonstrances, despatched from Bohemia a
reinforcement of some regiments to Count Altringer, who was defending
the Lech and the Danube against Horn and Bernard, but under the express
condition of his acting merely on the defensive. He referred the
Emperor and the Elector, whenever they applied to him for aid, to
Altringer, who, as he publicly gave out, had received unlimited powers;
secretly, however, he tied up his hands by the strictest injunctions,
and even threatened him with death, if he exceeded his orders. When
Duke Bernard had appeared before Ratisbon, and the Emperor as well as
the Elector repeated still more urgently their demand for succour, he
pretended he was about to despatch General Gallas with a considerable
army to the Danube; but this movement also was delayed, and Ratisbon,
Straubing, and Cham, as well as the bishopric of Eichstaedt, fell into
the hands of the Swedes. When at last he could no longer neglect the
orders of the Court, he marched slowly toward the Bavarian frontier,
where he invested the town of Cham, which had been taken by the Swedes.
But no sooner did he learn that on the Swedish side a diversion was
contemplated, by an inroad of the Saxons into Bohemia, than he availed
himself of the report, as a pretext for immediately retreating into that
kingdom. Every consideration, he urged, must be postponed to the
defence and preservation of the hereditary dominions of the Emperor; and
on this plea, he remained firmly fixed in Bohemia, which he guarded as
if it had been his own property. And when the Emperor laid upon him his
commands to move towards the Danube, and prevent the Duke of Weimar from
establishing himself in so dangerous a position on the frontiers of
Austria, Wallenstein thought proper to conclude the campaign a second
time, and quartered his troops for the winter in this exhausted kingdom.

Such continued insolence and unexampled contempt of the Imperial orders,
as well as obvious neglect of the common cause, joined to his equivocal
behaviour towards the enemy, tended at last to convince the Emperor of
the truth of those unfavourable reports with regard to the Duke, which
were current through Germany. The latter had, for a long time,
succeeded in glozing over his criminal correspondence with the enemy,
and persuading the Emperor, still prepossessed in his favour, that the
sole object of his secret conferences was to obtain peace for Germany.
But impenetrable as he himself believed his proceedings to be, in the
course of his conduct, enough transpired to justify the insinuations
with which his rivals incessantly loaded the ear of the Emperor. In
order to satisfy himself of the truth or falsehood of these rumours,
Ferdinand had already, at different times, sent spies into Wallenstein's
camp; but as the Duke took the precaution never to commit anything to
writing, they returned with nothing but conjectures. But when, at last,
those ministers who formerly had been his champions at the court, in
consequence of their estates not being exempted by Wallenstein from the
general exactions, joined his enemies; when the Elector of Bavaria
threatened, in case of Wallenstein being any longer retained in the
supreme command, to unite with the Swedes; when the Spanish ambassador
insisted on his dismissal, and threatened, in case of refusal, to
withdraw the subsidies furnished by his Crown, the Emperor found himself
a second time compelled to deprive him of the command.

The Emperor's authoritative and direct interference with the army, soon
convinced the Duke that the compact with himself was regarded as at an
end, and that his dismissal was inevitable. One of his inferior
generals in Austria, whom he had forbidden, under pain of death, to obey
the orders of the court, received the positive commands of the Emperor
to join the Elector of Bavaria; and Wallenstein himself was imperiously
ordered to send some regiments to reinforce the army of the Cardinal
Infante, who was on his march from Italy. All these measures convinced
him that the plan was finally arranged to disarm him by degrees, and at
once, when he was weak and defenceless, to complete his ruin.

In self-defence, must he now hasten to carry into execution the plans
which he had originally formed only with the view to aggrandizement. He
had delayed too long, either because the favourable configuration of the
stars had not yet presented itself, or, as he used to say, to check the
impatience of his friends, because THE TIME WAS NOT YET COME. The time,
even now, was not come: but the pressure of circumstances no longer
allowed him to await the favour of the stars. The first step was to
assure himself of the sentiments of his principal officers, and then to
try the attachment of the army, which he had so long confidently
reckoned on. Three of them, Colonels Kinsky, Terzky, and Illo, had long
been in his secrets, and the two first were further united to his
interests by the ties of relationship. The same wild ambition, the same
bitter hatred of the government, and the hope of enormous rewards, bound
them in the closest manner to Wallenstein, who, to increase the number
of his adherents, could stoop to the lowest means. He had once advised
Colonel Illo to solicit, in Vienna, the title of Count, and had promised
to back his application with his powerful mediation. But he secretly
wrote to the ministry, advising them to refuse his request, as to grant
it would give rise to similar demands from others, whose services and
claims were equal to his. On Illo's return to the camp, Wallenstein
immediately demanded to know the success of his mission; and when
informed by Illo of its failure, he broke out into the bitterest
complaints against the court. "Thus," said he, "are our faithful
services rewarded. My recommendation is disregarded, and your merit
denied so trifling a reward! Who would any longer devote his services
to so ungrateful a master? No, for my part, I am henceforth the
determined foe of Austria." Illo agreed with him, and a close alliance
was cemented between them.

But what was known to these three confidants of the duke, was long an
impenetrable secret to the rest; and the confidence with which
Wallenstein spoke of the devotion of his officers, was founded merely on
the favours he had lavished on them, and on their known dissatisfaction
with the Court. But this vague presumption must be converted into
certainty, before he could venture to lay aside the mask, or take any
open step against the Emperor. Count Piccolomini, who had distinguished
himself by his unparalleled bravery at Lutzen, was the first whose
fidelity he put to the proof. He had, he thought, gained the attachment
of this general by large presents, and preferred him to all others,
because born under the same constellations with himself. He disclosed
to him, that, in consequence of the Emperor's ingratitude, and the near
approach of his own danger, he had irrevocably determined entirely to
abandon the party of Austria, to join the enemy with the best part of
his army, and to make war upon the House of Austria, on all sides of its
dominions, till he had wholly extirpated it. In the execution of this
plan, he principally reckoned on the services of Piccolomini, and had
beforehand promised him the greatest rewards. When the latter, to
conceal his amazement at this extraordinary communication, spoke of the
dangers and obstacles which would oppose so hazardous an enterprise,
Wallenstein ridiculed his fears. "In such enterprises," he maintained,
"nothing was difficult but the commencement. The stars were propitious
to him, the opportunity the best that could be wished for, and something
must always be trusted to fortune. His resolution was taken, and if it
could not be otherwise, he would encounter the hazard at the head of a
thousand horse." Piccolomini was careful not to excite Wallenstein's
suspicions by longer opposition, and yielded apparently to the force of
his reasoning. Such was the infatuation of the Duke, that
notwithstanding the warnings of Count Terzky, he never doubted the
sincerity of this man, who lost not a moment in communicating to the
court at Vienna this important conversation.

Preparatory to taking the last decisive step, he, in January 1634,
called a meeting of all the commanders of the army at Pilsen, whither he
had marched after his retreat from Bavaria. The Emperor's recent orders
to spare his hereditary dominions from winter quarterings, to recover
Ratisbon in the middle of winter, and to reduce the army by a detachment
of six thousand horse to the Cardinal Infante, were matters sufficiently
grave to be laid before a council of war; and this plausible pretext
served to conceal from the curious the real object of the meeting.
Sweden and Saxony received invitations to be present, in order to treat
with the Duke of Friedland for a peace; to the leaders of more distant
armies, written communications were made. Of the commanders thus
summoned, twenty appeared; but three most influential, Gallas,
Colloredo, and Altringer, were absent. The Duke reiterated his summons
to them, and in the mean time, in expectation of their speedy arrival,
proceeded to execute his designs.

It was no light task that he had to perform: a nobleman, proud, brave,
and jealous of his honour, was to declare himself capable of the basest
treachery, in the very presence of those who had been accustomed to
regard him as the representative of majesty, the judge of their actions,
and the supporter of their laws, and to show himself suddenly as a
traitor, a cheat, and a rebel. It was no easy task, either, to shake to
its foundations a legitimate sovereignty, strengthened by time and
consecrated by laws and religion; to dissolve all the charms of the
senses and the imagination, those formidable guardians of an established
throne, and to attempt forcibly to uproot those invincible feelings of
duty, which plead so loudly and so powerfully in the breast of the
subject, in favour of his sovereign. But, blinded by the splendour of a
crown, Wallenstein observed not the precipice that yawned beneath his
feet; and in full reliance on his own strength, the common case with
energetic and daring minds, he stopped not to consider the magnitude and
the number of the difficulties that opposed him. Wallenstein saw
nothing but an army, partly indifferent and partly exasperated against
the court, accustomed, with a blind submission, to do homage to his
great name, to bow to him as their legislator and judge, and with
trembling reverence to follow his orders as the decrees of fate. In the
extravagant flatteries which were paid to his omnipotence, in the bold
abuse of the court government, in which a lawless soldiery indulged, and
which the wild licence of the camp excused, he thought he read the
sentiments of the army; and the boldness with which they were ready to
censure the monarch's measures, passed with him for a readiness to
renounce their allegiance to a sovereign so little respected. But that
which he had regarded as the lightest matter, proved the most formidable
obstacle with which he had to contend; the soldiers' feelings of
allegiance were the rock on which his hopes were wrecked. Deceived by
the profound respect in which he was held by these lawless bands, he
ascribed the whole to his own personal greatness, without distinguishing
how much he owed to himself, and how much to the dignity with which he
was invested. All trembled before him, while he exercised a legitimate
authority, while obedience to him was a duty, and while his consequence
was supported by the majesty of the sovereign. Greatness, in and of
itself, may excite terror and admiration; but legitimate greatness alone
can inspire reverence and submission; and of this decisive advantage he
deprived himself, the instant he avowed himself a traitor.

Field-Marshal Illo undertook to learn the sentiments of the officers,
and to prepare them for the step which was expected of them. He began
by laying before them the new orders of the court to the general and the
army; and by the obnoxious turn he skilfully gave to them, he found it
easy to excite the indignation of the assembly. After this well chosen
introduction, he expatiated with much eloquence upon the merits of the
army and the general, and the ingratitude with which the Emperor was
accustomed to requite them. "Spanish influence," he maintained,
"governed the court; the ministry were in the pay of Spain; the Duke of
Friedland alone had hitherto opposed this tyranny, and had thus drawn
down upon himself the deadly enmity of the Spaniards. To remove him
from the command, or to make away with him entirely," he continued, "had
long been the end of their desires; and, until they could succeed in one
or other, they endeavoured to abridge his power in the field. The
command was to be placed in the hands of the King of Hungary, for no
other reason than the better to promote the Spanish power in Germany;
because this prince, as the ready instrument of foreign counsels, might
be led at pleasure. It was merely with the view of weakening the army,
that the six thousand troops were required for the Cardinal Infante; it
was solely for the purpose of harassing it by a winter campaign, that
they were now called on, in this inhospitable season, to undertake the
recovery of Ratisbon. The means of subsistence were everywhere rendered
difficult, while the Jesuits and the ministry enriched themselves with
the sweat of the provinces, and squandered the money intended for the
pay of the troops. The general, abandoned by the court, acknowledges
his inability to keep his engagements to the army. For all the services
which, for two and twenty years, he had rendered the House of Austria;
for all the difficulties with which he had struggled; for all the
treasures of his own, which he had expended in the imperial service, a
second disgraceful dismissal awaited him. But he was resolved the
matter should not come to this; he was determined voluntarily to resign
the command, before it should be wrested from his hands; and this,"
continued the orator, "is what, through me, he now makes known to his
officers. It was now for them to say whether it would be advisable to
lose such a general. Let each consider who was to refund him the sums
he had expended in the Emperor's service, and where he was now to reap
the reward of their bravery, when he who was their evidence removed from
the scene."

A universal cry, that they would not allow their general to be taken
from them, interrupted the speaker. Four of the principal officers were
deputed to lay before him the wish of the assembly, and earnestly to
request that he would not leave the army. The duke made a show of
resistance, and only yielded after the second deputation. This
concession on his side, seemed to demand a return on theirs; as he
engaged not to quit the service without the knowledge and consent of the
generals, he required of them, on the other hand, a written promise to
truly and firmly adhere to him, neither to separate nor to allow
themselves to be separated from him, and to shed their last drop of
blood in his defence. Whoever should break this covenant, was to be
regarded as a perfidious traitor, and treated by the rest as a common
enemy. The express condition which was added, "AS LONG AS WALLENSTEIN
SHALL EMPLOY THE ARMY IN THE EMPEROR'S SERVICE," seemed to exclude all
misconception, and none of the assembled generals hesitated at once to
accede to a demand, apparently so innocent and so reasonable.

This document was publicly read before an entertainment, which
Field-Marshal Illo had expressly prepared for the purpose; it was to be
signed, after they rose from table. The host did his utmost to stupify
his guests by strong potations; and it was not until he saw them
affected with the wine, that he produced the paper for signature. Most
of them wrote their names, without knowing what they were subscribing; a
few only, more curious or more distrustful, read the paper over again,
and discovered with astonishment that the clause "as long as Wallenstein
shall employ the army for the Emperor's service" was omitted. Illo had,
in fact, artfully contrived to substitute for the first another copy, in
which these words were wanting. The trick was manifest, and many
refused now to sign. Piccolomini, who had seen through the whole cheat,
and had been present at this scene merely with the view of giving
information of the whole to the court, forgot himself so far in his cups
as to drink the Emperor's health. But Count Terzky now rose, and
declared that all were perjured villains who should recede from their
engagement. His menaces, the idea of the inevitable danger to which
they who resisted any longer would be exposed, the example of the rest,
and Illo's rhetoric, at last overcame their scruples; and the paper was
signed by all without exception.

Wallenstein had now effected his purpose; but the unexpected resistance
he had met with from the commanders roused him at last from the fond
illusions in which he had hitherto indulged. Besides, most of the names
were scrawled so illegibly, that some deceit was evidently intended.
But instead of being recalled to his discretion by this warning, he gave
vent to his injured pride in undignified complaints and reproaches. He
assembled the generals the next day, and undertook personally to confirm
the whole tenor of the agreement which Illo had submitted to them the
day before. After pouring out the bitterest reproaches and abuse
against the court, he reminded them of their opposition to the
proposition of the previous day, and declared that this circumstance had
induced him to retract his own promise. The generals withdrew in
silence and confusion; but after a short consultation in the
antichamber, they returned to apologize for their late conduct, and
offered to sign the paper anew.

Nothing now remained, but to obtain a similar assurance from the absent
generals, or, on their refusal, to seize their persons. Wallenstein
renewed his invitation to them, and earnestly urged them to hasten their
arrival. But a rumour of the doings at Pilsen reached them on their
journey, and suddenly stopped their further progress. Altringer, on
pretence of sickness, remained in the strong fortress of Frauenberg.
Gallas made his appearance, but merely with the design of better
qualifying himself as an eyewitness, to keep the Emperor informed of all
Wallenstein's proceedings. The intelligence which he and Piccolomini
gave, at once converted the suspicions of the court into an alarming
certainty. Similar disclosures, which were at the same time made from
other quarters, left no room for farther doubt; and the sudden change of
the commanders in Austria and Silesia, appeared to be the prelude to
some important enterprise. The danger was pressing, and the remedy must
be speedy, but the court was unwilling to proceed at once to the
execution of the sentence, till the regular forms of justice were
complied with. Secret instructions were therefore issued to the
principal officers, on whose fidelity reliance could be placed, to seize
the persons of the Duke of Friedland and of his two associates, Illo and
Terzky, and keep them in close confinement, till they should have an
opportunity of being heard, and of answering for their conduct; but if
this could not be accomplished quietly, the public danger required that
they should be taken dead or live. At the same time, General Gallas
received a patent commission, by which these orders of the Emperor were
made known to the colonels and officers, and the army was released from
its obedience to the traitor, and placed under Lieutenant-General
Gallas, till a new generalissimo could be appointed. In order to bring
back the seduced and deluded to their duty, and not to drive the guilty
to despair, a general amnesty was proclaimed, in regard to all offences
against the imperial majesty committed at Pilsen.

General Gallas was not pleased with the honour which was done him. He
was at Pilsen, under the eye of the person whose fate he was to dispose
of; in the power of an enemy, who had a hundred eyes to watch his
motions. If Wallenstein once discovered the secret of his commission,
nothing could save him from the effects of his vengeance and despair.
But if it was thus dangerous to be the secret depositary of such a
commission, how much more so to execute it? The sentiments of the
generals were uncertain; and it was at least doubtful whether, after the
step they had taken, they would be ready to trust the Emperor's
promises, and at once to abandon the brilliant expectations they had
built upon Wallenstein's enterprise. It was also hazardous to attempt
to lay hands on the person of a man who, till now, had been considered
inviolable; who from long exercise of supreme power, and from habitual
obedience, had become the object of deepest respect; who was invested
with every attribute of outward majesty and inward greatness; whose very
aspect inspired terror, and who by a nod disposed of life and death! To
seize such a man, like a common criminal, in the midst of the guards by
whom he was surrounded, and in a city apparently devoted to him; to
convert the object of this deep and habitual veneration into a subject
of compassion, or of contempt, was a commission calculated to make even
the boldest hesitate. So deeply was fear and veneration for their
general engraven in the breasts of the soldiers, that even the atrocious
crime of high treason could not wholly eradicate these sentiments.

Gallas perceived the impossibility of executing his commission under the
eyes of the duke; and his most anxious wish was, before venturing on any
steps, to have an interview with Altringer. As the long absence of the
latter had already begun to excite the duke's suspicions, Gallas offered
to repair in person to Frauenberg, and to prevail on Altringer, his
relation, to return with him. Wallenstein was so pleased with this
proof of his zeal, that he even lent him his own equipage for the
journey. Rejoicing at the success of his stratagem, he left Pilsen
without delay, leaving to Count Piccolomini the task of watching
Wallenstein's further movements. He did not fail, as he went along, to
make use of the imperial patent, and the sentiments of the troops proved
more favourable than he had expected. Instead of taking back his friend
to Pilsen, he despatched him to Vienna, to warn the Emperor against the
intended attack, while he himself repaired to Upper Austria, of which
the safety was threatened by the near approach of Duke Bernard. In
Bohemia, the towns of Budweiss and Tabor were again garrisoned for the
Emperor, and every precaution taken to oppose with energy the designs of
the traitor.

As Gallas did not appear disposed to return, Piccolomini determined to
put Wallenstein's credulity once more to the test. He begged to be sent
to bring back Gallas, and Wallenstein suffered himself a second time to
be overreached. This inconceivable blindness can only be accounted for
as the result of his pride, which never retracted the opinion it had
once formed of any person, and would not acknowledge, even to itself,
the possibility of being deceived. He conveyed Count Piccolomini in his
own carriage to Lintz, where the latter immediately followed the example
of Gallas, and even went a step farther. He had promised the duke to
return. He did so, but it was at the head of an army, intending to
surprise the duke in Pilsen. Another army under General Suys hastened
to Prague, to secure that capital in its allegiance, and to defend it
against the rebels. Gallas, at the same time, announced himself to the
different imperial armies as the commander-in-chief, from whom they were
henceforth to receive orders. Placards were circulated through all the
imperial camps, denouncing the duke and his four confidants, and
absolving the soldiers from all obedience to him.

The example which had been set at Lintz, was universally followed;
imprecations were showered on the traitor, and he was forsaken by all
the armies. At last, when even Piccolomini returned no more, the mist
fell from Wallenstein's eyes, and in consternation he awoke from his
dream. Yet his faith in the truth of astrology, and in the fidelity of
the army was unshaken. Immediately after the intelligence of
Piccolomini's defection, he issued orders, that in future no commands
were to be obeyed, which did not proceed directly from himself, or from
Terzky, or Illo. He prepared, in all haste, to advance upon Prague,
where he intended to throw off the mask, and openly to declare against
the Emperor. All the troops were to assemble before that city, and from
thence to pour down with rapidity upon Austria. Duke Bernard, who had
joined the conspiracy, was to support the operations of the duke, with
the Swedish troops, and to effect a diversion upon the Danube.

Terzky was already upon his march towards Prague; and nothing, but the
want of horses, prevented the duke from following him with the regiments
who still adhered faithfully to him. But when, with the most anxious
expectation, he awaited the intelligence from Prague, he suddenly
received information of the loss of that town, the defection of his
generals, the desertion of his troops, the discovery of his whole plot,
and the rapid advance of Piccolomini, who was sworn to his destruction.
Suddenly and fearfully had all his projects been ruined--all his hopes
annihilated. He stood alone, abandoned by all to whom he had been a
benefactor, betrayed by all on whom he had depended. But it is under
such circumstances that great minds reveal themselves. Though deceived
in all his expectations, he refused to abandon one of his designs; he
despaired of nothing, so long as life remained. The time was now come,
when he absolutely required that assistance, which he had so often
solicited from the Swedes and the Saxons, and when all doubts of the
sincerity of his purposes must be dispelled. And now, when Oxenstiern
and Arnheim were convinced of the sincerity of his intentions, and were
aware of his necessities, they no longer hesitated to embrace the
favourable opportunity, and to offer him their protection. On the part
of Saxony, the Duke Francis Albert of Saxe Lauenberg was to join him
with 4,000 men; and Duke Bernard, and the Palatine Christian of
Birkenfeld, with 6,000 from Sweden, all chosen troops.

Wallenstein left Pilsen, with Terzky's regiment, and the few who either
were, or pretended to be, faithful to him, and hastened to Egra, on the
frontiers of the kingdom, in order to be near the Upper Palatinate, and
to facilitate his junction with Duke Bernard. He was not yet informed
of the decree by which he was proclaimed a public enemy and traitor;
this thunder-stroke awaited him at Egra. He still reckoned on the army,
which General Schafgotsch was preparing for him in Silesia, and
flattered himself with the hope that many even of those who had forsaken
him, would return with the first dawning of success. Even during his
flight to Egra (so little humility had he learned from melancholy
experience) he was still occupied with the colossal scheme of dethroning
the Emperor. It was under these circumstances, that one of his suite
asked leave to offer him his advice. "Under the Emperor," said he,
"your highness is certain of being a great and respected noble; with the
enemy, you are at best but a precarious king. It is unwise to risk
certainty for uncertainty. The enemy will avail themselves of your
personal influence, while the opportunity lasts; but you will ever be
regarded with suspicion, and they will always be fearful lest you should
treat them as you have done the Emperor. Return, then, to your
allegiance, while there is yet time."--"And how is that to be done?"
said Wallenstein, interrupting him: "You have 40,000 men-at-arms,"
rejoined he, (meaning ducats, which were stamped with the figure of an
armed man,) "take them with you, and go straight to the Imperial Court;
then declare that the steps you have hitherto taken were merely designed
to test the fidelity of the Emperor's servants, and of distinguishing
the loyal from the doubtful; and since most have shown a disposition to
revolt, say you are come to warn his Imperial Majesty against those
dangerous men. Thus you will make those appear as traitors, who are
labouring to represent you as a false villain. At the Imperial Court, a
man is sure to be welcome with 40,000 ducats, and Friedland will be
again as he was at the first."--"The advice is good," said Wallenstein,
after a pause, "but let the devil trust to it."

While the duke, in his retirement in Egra, was energetically pushing his
negociations with the enemy, consulting the stars, and indulging in new
hopes, the dagger which was to put an end to his existence was
unsheathed almost under his very eyes. The imperial decree which
proclaimed him an outlaw, had not failed of its effect; and an avenging
Nemesis ordained that the ungrateful should fall beneath the blow of
ingratitude. Among his officers, Wallenstein had particularly
distinguished one Leslie, an Irishman, and had made his fortune.

   [Schiller is mistaken as to this point. Leslie was a Scotchman,
   and Buttler an Irishman and a papist. He died a general in the
   Emperor's service, and founded, at Prague, a convent of Irish
   Franciscans which still exists.--Ed.]

This was the man who now felt himself called on to execute the sentence
against him, and to earn the price of blood. No sooner had he reached
Egra, in the suite of the duke, than he disclosed to the commandant of
the town, Colonel Buttler, and to Lieutenant-Colonel Gordon, two
Protestant Scotchmen, the treasonable designs of the duke, which the
latter had imprudently enough communicated to him during the journey.
In these two individuals, he had found men capable of a determined
resolution. They were now called on to choose between treason and duty,
between their legitimate sovereign and a fugitive abandoned rebel; and
though the latter was their common benefactor, the choice could not
remain for a moment doubtful. They were solemnly pledged to the
allegiance of the Emperor, and this duty required them to take the most
rapid measures against the public enemy. The opportunity was
favourable; his evil genius seemed to have delivered him into the hands
of vengeance. But not to encroach on the province of justice, they
resolved to deliver up their victim alive; and they parted with the bold
resolve to take their general prisoner. This dark plot was buried in
the deepest silence; and Wallenstein, far from suspecting his impending
ruin, flattered himself that in the garrison of Egra he possessed his
bravest and most faithful champions.

At this time, he became acquainted with the Imperial proclamations
containing his sentence, and which had been published in all the camps.
He now became aware of the full extent of the danger which encompassed
him, the utter impossibility of retracing his steps, his fearfully
forlorn condition, and the absolute necessity of at once trusting
himself to the faith and honour of the Emperor's enemies. To Leslie he
poured forth all the anguish of his wounded spirit, and the vehemence of
his agitation extracted from him his last remaining secret. He
disclosed to this officer his intention to deliver up Egra and
Ellenbogen, the passes of the kingdom, to the Palatine of Birkenfeld,
and at the same time, informed him of the near approach of Duke Bernard,
of whose arrival he hoped to receive tidings that very night. These
disclosures, which Leslie immediately communicated to the conspirators,
made them change their original plan. The urgency of the danger
admitted not of half measures. Egra might in a moment be in the enemy's
hands, and a sudden revolution set their prisoner at liberty. To
anticipate this mischance, they resolved to assassinate him and his
associates the following night.

In order to execute this design with less noise, it was arranged that
the fearful deed should be perpetrated at an entertainment which Colonel
Buttler should give in the Castle of Egra. All the guests, except
Wallenstein, made their appearance, who being in too great anxiety of
mind to enjoy company excused himself. With regard to him, therefore,
their plan must be again changed; but they resolved to execute their
design against the others. The three Colonels, Illo, Terzky, and
William Kinsky, came in with careless confidence, and with them Captain
Neumann, an officer of ability, whose advice Terzky sought in every
intricate affair. Previous to their arrival, trusty soldiers of the
garrison, to whom the plot had been communicated, were admitted into the
Castle, all the avenues leading from it guarded, and six of Buttler's
dragoons concealed in an apartment close to the banqueting-room, who, on
a concerted signal, were to rush in and kill the traitors. Without
suspecting the danger that hung over them, the guests gaily abandoned
themselves to the pleasures of the table, and Wallenstein's health was
drunk in full bumpers, not as a servant of the Emperor, but as a
sovereign prince. The wine opened their hearts, and Illo, with
exultation, boasted that in three days an army would arrive, such as
Wallenstein had never before been at the head of. "Yes," cried Neumann,
"and then he hopes to bathe his hands in Austrian blood." During this
conversation, the dessert was brought in, and Leslie gave the concerted
signal to raise the drawbridges, while he himself received the keys of
the gates. In an instant, the hall was filled with armed men, who, with
the unexpected greeting of "Long live Ferdinand!" placed themselves
behind the chairs of the marked guests. Surprised, and with a
presentiment of their fate, they sprang from the table. Kinsky and
Terzky were killed upon the spot, and before they could put themselves
upon their guard. Neumann, during the confusion in the hall, escaped
into the court, where, however, he was instantly recognised and cut
down. Illo alone had the presence of mind to defend himself. He placed
his back against a window, from whence he poured the bitterest
reproaches upon Gordon, and challenged him to fight him fairly and
honourably. After a gallant resistance, in which he slew two of his
assailants, he fell to the ground overpowered by numbers, and pierced
with ten wounds. The deed was no sooner accomplished, than Leslie
hastened into the town to prevent a tumult. The sentinels at the castle
gate, seeing him running and out of breath, and believing he belonged to
the rebels, fired their muskets after him, but without effect. The
firing, however, aroused the town-guard, and all Leslie's presence of
mind was requisite to allay the tumult. He hastily detailed to them all
the circumstances of Wallenstein's conspiracy, the measures which had
been already taken to counteract it, the fate of the four rebels, as
well as that which awaited their chief. Finding the troops well
disposed, he exacted from them a new oath of fidelity to the Emperor,
and to live and die for the good cause. A hundred of Buttler's dragoons
were sent from the Castle into the town to patrol the streets, to
overawe the partisans of the Duke, and to prevent tumult. All the gates
of Egra were at the same time seized, and every avenue to Wallenstein's
residence, which adjoined the market-place, guarded by a numerous and
trusty body of troops, sufficient to prevent either his escape or his
receiving any assistance from without.

But before they proceeded finally to execute the deed, a long conference
was held among the conspirators in the Castle, whether they should kill
him, or content themselves with making him prisoner. Besprinkled as
they were with the blood, and deliberating almost over the very corpses
of his murdered associates, even these furious men yet shuddered at the
horror of taking away so illustrious a life. They saw before their
mind's eye him their leader in battle, in the days of his good fortune,
surrounded by his victorious army, clothed with all the pomp of military
greatness, and long-accustomed awe again seized their minds. But this
transitory emotion was soon effaced by the thought of the immediate
danger. They remembered the hints which Neumann and Illo had thrown out
at table, the near approach of a formidable army of Swedes and Saxons,
and they clearly saw that the death of the traitor was their only chance
of safety. They adhered, therefore, to their first resolution, and
Captain Deveroux, an Irishman, who had already been retained for the
murderous purpose, received decisive orders to act.

While these three officers were thus deciding upon his fate in the
castle of Egra, Wallenstein was occupied in reading the stars with Seni.
"The danger is not yet over," said the astrologer with prophetic spirit.
"IT IS," replied the Duke, who would give the law even to heaven.
"But," he continued with equally prophetic spirit, "that thou friend
Seni thyself shall soon be thrown into prison, that also is written in
the stars." The astrologer had taken his leave, and Wallenstein had
retired to bed, when Captain Deveroux appeared before his residence with
six halberdiers, and was immediately admitted by the guard, who were
accustomed to see him visit the general at all hours. A page who met
him upon the stairs, and attempted to raise an alarm, was run through
the body with a pike. In the antichamber, the assassins met a servant,
who had just come out of the sleeping-room of his master, and had taken
with him the key. Putting his finger upon his mouth, the terrified
domestic made a sign to them to make no noise, as the Duke was asleep.
"Friend," cried Deveroux, "it is time to awake him;" and with these
words he rushed against the door, which was also bolted from within, and
burst it open.

Wallenstein had been roused from his first sleep, by the report of a
musket which had accidentally gone off, and had sprung to the window to
call the guard. At the same moment, he heard, from the adjoining
building, the shrieks of the Countesses Terzky and Kinsky, who had just
learnt the violent fate of their husbands. Ere he had time to reflect
on these terrible events, Deveroux, with the other murderers, was in his
chamber. The Duke was in his shirt, as he had leaped out of bed, and
leaning on a table near the window. "Art thou the villain," cried
Deveroux to him, "who intends to deliver up the Emperor's troops to the
enemy, and to tear the crown from the head of his Majesty? Now thou must
die!" He paused for a few moments, as if expecting an answer; but scorn
and astonishment kept Wallenstein silent. Throwing his arms wide open,
he received in his breast, the deadly blow of the halberds, and without
uttering a groan, fell weltering in his blood.

The next day, an express arrived from the Duke of Lauenburg, announcing
his approach. The messenger was secured, and another in Wallenstein's
livery despatched to the Duke, to decoy him into Egra. The stratagem
succeeded, and Francis Albert fell into the hands of the enemy. Duke
Bernard of Weimar, who was on his march towards Egra, was nearly sharing
the same fate. Fortunately, he heard of Wallenstein's death in time to
save himself by a retreat. Ferdinand shed a tear over the fate of his
general, and ordered three thousand masses to be said for his soul at
Vienna; but, at the same time, he did not forget to reward his assassins
with gold chains, chamberlains' keys, dignities, and estates.

Thus did Wallenstein, at the age of fifty, terminate his active and
extraordinary life. To ambition, he owed both his greatness and his
ruin; with all his failings, he possessed great and admirable qualities,
and had he kept himself within due bounds, he would have lived and died
without an equal. The virtues of the ruler and of the hero, prudence,
justice, firmness, and courage, are strikingly prominent features in his
character; but he wanted the gentler virtues of the man, which adorn the
hero, and make the ruler beloved. Terror was the talisman with which he
worked; extreme in his punishments as in his rewards, he knew how to
keep alive the zeal of his followers, while no general of ancient or
modern times could boast of being obeyed with equal alacrity.
Submission to his will was more prized by him than bravery; for, if the
soldiers work by the latter, it is on the former that the general
depends. He continually kept up the obedience of his troops by
capricious orders, and profusely rewarded the readiness to obey even in
trifles; because he looked rather to the act itself, than its object.
He once issued a decree, with the penalty of death on disobedience, that
none but red sashes should be worn in the army. A captain of horse no
sooner heard the order, than pulling off his gold-embroidered sash, he
trampled it under foot; Wallenstein, on being informed of the
circumstance, promoted him on the spot to the rank of Colonel. His
comprehensive glance was always directed to the whole, and in all his
apparent caprice, he steadily kept in view some general scope or
bearing. The robberies committed by the soldiers in a friendly country,
had led to the severest orders against marauders; and all who should be
caught thieving, were threatened with the halter. Wallenstein himself
having met a straggler in the open country upon the field, commanded him
to be seized without trial, as a transgressor of the law, and in his
usual voice of thunder, exclaimed, "Hang the fellow," against which no
opposition ever availed. The soldier pleaded and proved his innocence,
but the irrevocable sentence had gone forth. "Hang then innocent,"
cried the inexorable Wallenstein, "the guilty will have then more reason
to tremble." Preparations were already making to execute the sentence,
when the soldier, who gave himself up for lost, formed the desperate
resolution of not dying without revenge. He fell furiously upon his
judge, but was overpowered by numbers, and disarmed before he could
fulfil his design. "Now let him go," said the Duke, "it will excite
sufficient terror."

His munificence was supported by an immense income, which was estimated
at three millions of florins yearly, without reckoning the enormous sums
which he raised under the name of contributions. His liberality and
clearness of understanding, raised him above the religious prejudices of
his age; and the Jesuits never forgave him for having seen through their
system, and for regarding the pope as nothing more than a bishop of
Rome.

But as no one ever yet came to a fortunate end who quarrelled with the
Church, Wallenstein also must augment the number of its victims.
Through the intrigues of monks, he lost at Ratisbon the command of the
army, and at Egra his life; by the same arts, perhaps, he lost what was
of more consequence, his honourable name and good repute with posterity.

For in justice it must be admitted, that the pens which have traced the
history of this extraordinary man are not untinged with partiality, and
that the treachery of the duke, and his designs upon the throne of
Bohemia, rest not so much upon proven facts, as upon probable
conjecture. No documents have yet been brought to light, which disclose
with historical certainty the secret motives of his conduct; and among
all his public and well attested actions, there is, perhaps, not one
which could not have had an innocent end. Many of his most obnoxious
measures proved nothing but the earnest wish he entertained for peace;
most of the others are explained and justified by the well-founded
distrust he entertained of the Emperor, and the excusable wish of
maintaining his own importance. It is true, that his conduct towards
the Elector of Bavaria looks too like an unworthy revenge, and the
dictates of an implacable spirit; but still, none of his actions perhaps
warrant us in holding his treason to be proved. If necessity and
despair at last forced him to deserve the sentence which had been
pronounced against him while innocent, still this, if true, will not
justify that sentence. Thus Wallenstein fell, not because he was a
rebel, but he became a rebel because he fell. Unfortunate in life that
he made a victorious party his enemy, and still more unfortunate in
death, that the same party survived him and wrote his history.





 Book V.



 Wallenstein's death rendered necessary the appointment of a new
generalissimo; and the Emperor yielded at last to the advice of the
Spaniards, to raise his son Ferdinand, King of Hungary, to that dignity.
Under him, Count Gallas commanded, who performed the functions of
commander-in-chief, while the prince brought to this post nothing but
his name and dignity. A considerable force was soon assembled under
Ferdinand; the Duke of Lorraine brought up a considerable body of
auxiliaries in person, and the Cardinal Infante joined him from Italy
with 10,000 men. In order to drive the enemy from the Danube, the new
general undertook the enterprise in which his predecessor had failed,
the siege of Ratisbon. In vain did Duke Bernard of Weimar penetrate
into the interior of Bavaria, with a view to draw the enemy from the
town; Ferdinand continued to press the siege with vigour, and the city,
after a most obstinate resistance, was obliged to open its gates to him.
Donauwerth soon shared the same fate, and Nordlingen in Swabia was now
invested. The loss of so many of the imperial cities was severely felt
by the Swedish party; as the friendship of these towns had so largely
contributed to the success of their arms, indifference to their fate
would have been inexcusable. It would have been an indelible disgrace,
had they deserted their confederates in their need, and abandoned them
to the revenge of an implacable conqueror. Moved by these
considerations, the Swedish army, under the command of Horn, and Bernard
of Weimar, advanced upon Nordlingen, determined to relieve it even at
the expense of a battle.

The undertaking was a dangerous one, for in numbers the enemy was
greatly superior to that of the Swedes. There was also a further reason
for avoiding a battle at present; the enemy's force was likely soon to
divide, the Italian troops being destined for the Netherlands. In the
mean time, such a position might be taken up, as to cover Nordlingen,
and cut off their supplies. All these grounds were strongly urged by
Gustavus Horn, in the Swedish council of war; but his remonstrances were
disregarded by men who, intoxicated by a long career of success, mistook
the suggestions of prudence for the voice of timidity. Overborne by the
superior influence of Duke Bernard, Gustavus Horn was compelled to risk
a contest, whose unfavourable issue, a dark foreboding seemed already to
announce. The fate of the battle depended upon the possession of a
height which commanded the imperial camp. An attempt to occupy it
during the night failed, as the tedious transport of the artillery
through woods and hollow ways delayed the arrival of the troops. When
the Swedes arrived about midnight, they found the heights in possession
of the enemy, strongly entrenched. They waited, therefore, for
daybreak, to carry them by storm. Their impetuous courage surmounted
every obstacle; the entrenchments, which were in the form of a crescent,
were successfully scaled by each of the two brigades appointed to the
service; but as they entered at the same moment from opposite sides,
they met and threw each other into confusion. At this unfortunate
moment, a barrel of powder blew up, and created the greatest disorder
among the Swedes. The imperial cavalry charged upon their broken ranks,
and the flight became universal. No persuasion on the part of their
general could induce the fugitives to renew the assault.

He resolved, therefore, in order to carry this important post, to lead
fresh troops to the attack. But in the interim, some Spanish regiments
had marched in, and every attempt to gain it was repulsed by their
heroic intrepidity. One of the duke's own regiments advanced seven
times, and was as often driven back. The disadvantage of not occupying
this post in time, was quickly and sensibly felt. The fire of the
enemy's artillery from the heights, caused such slaughter in the
adjacent wing of the Swedes, that Horn, who commanded there, was forced
to give orders to retire. Instead of being able to cover the retreat of
his colleague, and to check the pursuit of the enemy, Duke Bernard,
overpowered by numbers, was himself driven into the plain, where his
routed cavalry spread confusion among Horn's brigade, and rendered the
defeat complete. Almost the entire infantry were killed or taken
prisoners. More than 12,000 men remained dead upon the field of battle;
80 field pieces, about 4,000 waggons, and 300 standards and colours fell
into the hands of the Imperialists. Horn himself, with three other
generals, were taken prisoners. Duke Bernard with difficulty saved a
feeble remnant of his army, which joined him at Frankfort.

The defeat at Nordlingen, cost the Swedish Chancellor the second
sleepless night he had passed in Germany.--[The first was occasioned by
the death of Gustavus Adolphus.]--The consequences of this disaster were
terrible. The Swedes had lost by it at once their superiority in the
field, and with it the confidence of their confederates, which they had
gained solely by their previous military success. A dangerous division
threatened the Protestant Confederation with ruin. Consternation and
terror seized upon the whole party; while the Papists arose with
exulting triumph from the deep humiliation into which they had sunk.
Swabia and the adjacent circles first felt the consequences of the
defeat of Nordlingen; and Wirtemberg, in particular, was overrun by the
conquering army. All the members of the League of Heilbronn trembled at
the prospect of the Emperor's revenge; those who could, fled to
Strasburg, while the helpless free cities awaited their fate with alarm.
A little more of moderation towards the conquered, would have quickly
reduced all the weaker states under the Emperor's authority; but the
severity which was practised, even against those who voluntarily
surrendered, drove the rest to despair, and roused them to a vigorous
resistance.

In this perplexity, all looked to Oxenstiern for counsel and assistance;
Oxenstiern applied for both to the German States. Troops were wanted;
money likewise, to raise new levies, and to pay to the old the arrears
which the men were clamorously demanding. Oxenstiern addressed himself
to the Elector of Saxony; but he shamefully abandoned the Swedish cause,
to negociate for a separate peace with the Emperor at Pirna. He
solicited aid from the Lower Saxon States; but they, long wearied of the
Swedish pretensions and demands for money, now thought only of
themselves; and George, Duke of Lunenburg, in place of flying to the
assistance of Upper Germany, laid siege to Minden, with the intention of
keeping possession of it for himself. Abandoned by his German allies,
the chancellor exerted himself to obtain the assistance of foreign
powers. England, Holland, and Venice were applied to for troops and
money; and, driven to the last extremity, the chancellor reluctantly
resolved to take the disagreeable step which he had so long avoided, and
to throw himself under the protection of France.

The moment had at last arrived which Richelieu had long waited for with
impatience. Nothing, he was aware, but the impossibility of saving
themselves by any other means, could induce the Protestant States in
Germany to support the pretensions of France upon Alsace. This extreme
necessity had now arrived; the assistance of that power was
indispensable, and she was resolved to be well paid for the active part
which she was about to take in the German war. Full of lustre and
dignity, it now came upon the political stage. Oxenstiern, who felt
little reluctance in bestowing the rights and possessions of the empire,
had already ceded the fortress of Philipsburg, and the other long
coveted places. The Protestants of Upper Germany now, in their own
names, sent a special embassy to Richelieu, requesting him to take
Alsace, the fortress of Breyssach, which was still to be recovered from
the enemy, and all the places upon the Upper Rhine, which were the keys
of Germany, under the protection of France. What was implied by French
protection had been seen in the conduct of France towards the bishoprics
of Metz, Toul, and Verdun, which it had held for centuries against the
rightful owners. Treves was already in the possession of French
garrisons; Lorraine was in a manner conquered, as it might at any time
be overrun by an army, and could not, alone, and with its own strength,
withstand its formidable neighbour. France now entertained the hope of
adding Alsace to its large and numerous possessions, and,--since a
treaty was soon to be concluded with the Dutch for the partition of the
Spanish Netherlands--the prospect of making the Rhine its natural
boundary towards Germany. Thus shamefully were the rights of Germany
sacrificed by the German States to this treacherous and grasping power,
which, under the mask of a disinterested friendship, aimed only at its
own aggrandizement; and while it boldly claimed the honourable title of
a Protectress, was solely occupied with promoting its own schemes, and
advancing its own interests amid the general confusion.

In return for these important cessions, France engaged to effect a
diversion in favour of the Swedes, by commencing hostilities against the
Spaniards; and if this should lead to an open breach with the Emperor,
to maintain an army upon the German side of the Rhine, which was to act
in conjunction with the Swedes and Germans against Austria. For a war
with Spain, the Spaniards themselves soon afforded the desired pretext.
Making an inroad from the Netherlands, upon the city of Treves, they cut
in pieces the French garrison; and, in open violation of the law of
nations, made prisoner the Elector, who had placed himself under the
protection of France, and carried him into Flanders. When the Cardinal
Infante, as Viceroy of the Spanish Netherlands, refused satisfaction for
these injuries, and delayed to restore the prince to liberty, Richelieu,
after the old custom, formally proclaimed war at Brussels by a herald,
and the war was at once opened by three different armies in Milan, in
the Valteline, and in Flanders. The French minister was less anxious to
commence hostilities with the Emperor, which promised fewer advantages,
and threatened greater difficulties. A fourth army, however, was
detached across the Rhine into Germany, under the command of Cardinal
Lavalette, which was to act in conjunction with Duke Bernard, against
the Emperor, without a previous declaration of war.

A heavier blow for the Swedes, than even the defeat of Nordlingen, was
the reconciliation of the Elector of Saxony with the Emperor. After
many fruitless attempts both to bring about and to prevent it, it was at
last effected in 1634, at Pirna, and, the following year, reduced into a
formal treaty of peace, at Prague. The Elector of Saxony had always
viewed with jealousy the pretensions of the Swedes in Germany; and his
aversion to this foreign power, which now gave laws within the Empire,
had grown with every fresh requisition that Oxenstiern was obliged to
make upon the German states. This ill feeling was kept alive by the
Spanish court, who laboured earnestly to effect a peace between Saxony
and the Emperor. Wearied with the calamities of a long and destructive
contest, which had selected Saxony above all others for its theatre;
grieved by the miseries which both friend and foe inflicted upon his
subjects, and seduced by the tempting propositions of the House of
Austria, the Elector at last abandoned the common cause, and, caring
little for the fate of his confederates, or the liberties of Germany,
thought only of securing his own advantages, even at the expense of the
whole body.

In fact, the misery of Germany had risen to such a height, that all
clamorously vociferated for peace; and even the most disadvantageous
pacification would have been hailed as a blessing from heaven. The
plains, which formerly had been thronged with a happy and industrious
population, where nature had lavished her choicest gifts, and plenty and
prosperity had reigned, were now a wild and desolate wilderness. The
fields, abandoned by the industrious husbandman, lay waste and
uncultivated; and no sooner had the young crops given the promise of a
smiling harvest, than a single march destroyed the labours of a year,
and blasted the last hope of an afflicted peasantry. Burnt castles,
wasted fields, villages in ashes, were to be seen extending far and wide
on all sides, while the ruined peasantry had no resource left but to
swell the horde of incendiaries, and fearfully to retaliate upon their
fellows, who had hitherto been spared the miseries which they themselves
had suffered. The only safeguard against oppression was to become an
oppressor. The towns groaned under the licentiousness of undisciplined
and plundering garrisons, who seized and wasted the property of the
citizens, and, under the license of their position, committed the most
remorseless devastation and cruelty. If the march of an army converted
whole provinces into deserts, if others were impoverished by winter
quarters, or exhausted by contributions, these still were but passing
evils, and the industry of a year might efface the miseries of a few
months. But there was no relief for those who had a garrison within
their walls, or in the neighbourhood; even the change of fortune could
not improve their unfortunate fate, since the victor trod in the steps
of the vanquished, and friends were not more merciful than enemies. The
neglected farms, the destruction of the crops, and the numerous armies
which overran the exhausted country, were inevitably followed by
scarcity and the high price of provisions, which in the later years was
still further increased by a general failure in the crops. The crowding
together of men in camps and quarters--want upon one side, and excess
on the other, occasioned contagious distempers, which were more fatal
than even the sword. In this long and general confusion, all the bonds
of social life were broken up;--respect for the rights of their fellow
men, the fear of the laws, purity of morals, honour, and religion, were
laid aside, where might ruled supreme with iron sceptre. Under the
shelter of anarchy and impunity, every vice flourished, and men became
as wild as the country. No station was too dignified for outrage, no
property too holy for rapine and avarice. In a word, the soldier
reigned supreme; and that most brutal of despots often made his own
officer feel his power. The leader of an army was a far more important
person within any country where he appeared, than its lawful governor,
who was frequently obliged to fly before him into his own castles for
safety. Germany swarmed with these petty tyrants, and the country
suffered equally from its enemies and its protectors. These wounds
rankled the deeper, when the unhappy victims recollected that Germany
was sacrificed to the ambition of foreign powers, who, for their own
ends, prolonged the miseries of war. Germany bled under the scourge, to
extend the conquests and influence of Sweden; and the torch of discord
was kept alive within the Empire, that the services of Richelieu might
be rendered indispensable in France.

But, in truth, it was not merely interested voices which opposed a
peace; and if both Sweden and the German states were anxious, from
corrupt motives, to prolong the conflict, they were seconded in their
views by sound policy. After the defeat of Nordlingen, an equitable
peace was not to be expected from the Emperor; and, this being the case,
was it not too great a sacrifice, after seventeen years of war, with all
its miseries, to abandon the contest, not only without advantage, but
even with loss? What would avail so much bloodshed, if all was to
remain as it had been; if their rights and pretensions were neither
larger nor safer; if all that had been won with so much difficulty was
to be surrendered for a peace at any cost? Would it not be better to
endure, for two or three years more, the burdens they had borne so long,
and to reap at last some recompense for twenty years of suffering?
Neither was it doubtful, that peace might at last be obtained on
favourable terms, if only the Swedes and the German Protestants should
continue united in the cabinet and in the field, and pursued their
common interests with a reciprocal sympathy and zeal. Their divisions
alone, had rendered the enemy formidable, and protracted the acquisition
of a lasting and general peace. And this great evil the Elector of
Saxony had brought upon the Protestant cause by concluding a separate
treaty with Austria.

He, indeed, had commenced his negociations with the Emperor, even before
the battle of Nordlingen; and the unfortunate issue of that battle only
accelerated their conclusion. By it, all his confidence in the Swedes
was lost; and it was even doubted whether they would ever recover from
the blow. The jealousies among their generals, the insubordination of
the army, and the exhaustion of the Swedish kingdom, shut out any
reasonable prospect of effective assistance on their part. The Elector
hastened, therefore, to profit by the Emperor's magnanimity, who, even
after the battle of Nordlingen, did not recall the conditions previously
offered. While Oxenstiern, who had assembled the estates in Frankfort,
made further demands upon them and him, the Emperor, on the contrary,
made concessions; and therefore it required no long consideration to
decide between them.

In the mean time, however, he was anxious to escape the charge of
sacrificing the common cause and attending only to his own interests.
All the German states, and even the Swedes, were publicly invited to
become parties to this peace, although Saxony and the Emperor were the
only powers who deliberated upon it, and who assumed the right to give
law to Germany. By this self-appointed tribunal, the grievances of the
Protestants were discussed, their rights and privileges decided, and
even the fate of religions determined, without the presence of those who
were most deeply interested in it. Between them, a general peace was
resolved on, and it was to be enforced by an imperial army of execution,
as a formal decree of the Empire. Whoever opposed it, was to be treated
as a public enemy; and thus, contrary to their rights, the states were
to be compelled to acknowledge a law, in the passing of which they had
no share. Thus, even in form, the pacification at Prague was an
arbitrary measure; nor was it less so in its contents. The Edict of
Restitution had been the chief cause of dispute between the Elector and
the Emperor; and therefore it was first considered in their
deliberations. Without formally annulling it, it was determined by the
treaty of Prague, that all the ecclesiastical domains holding
immediately of the Empire, and, among the mediate ones, those which had
been seized by the Protestants subsequently to the treaty at Passau,
should, for forty years, remain in the same position as they had been in
before the Edict of Restitution, but without any formal decision of the
diet to that effect. Before the expiration of this term a commission,
composed of equal numbers of both religions, should proceed to settle
the matter peaceably and according to law; and if this commission should
be unable to come to a decision, each party should remain in possession
of the rights which it had exercised before the Edict of Restitution.
This arrangement, therefore, far from removing the grounds of
dissension, only suspended the dispute for a time; and this article of
the treaty of Prague only covered the embers of a future war.

The archbishopric of Magdeburg remained in possession of Prince Augustus
of Saxony, and Halberstadt in that of the Archduke Leopold William.
Four estates were taken from the territory of Magdeburg, and given to
Saxony, for which the Administrator of Magdeburg, Christian William of
Brandenburg, was otherwise to be indemnified. The Dukes of Mecklenburg,
upon acceding to this treaty, were to be acknowledged as rightful
possessors of their territories, in which the magnanimity of Gustavus
Adolphus had long ago reinstated them. Donauwerth recovered its
liberties. The important claims of the heirs of the Palatine, however
important it might be for the Protestant cause not to lose this
electorate vote in the diet, were passed over in consequence of the
animosity subsisting between the Lutherans and the Calvinists. All the
conquests which, in the course of the war, had been made by the German
states, or by the League and the Emperor, were to be mutually restored;
all which had been appropriated by the foreign powers of France and
Sweden, was to be forcibly wrested from them by the united powers. The
troops of the contracting parties were to be formed into one imperial
army, which, supported and paid by the Empire, was, by force of arms, to
carry into execution the covenants of the treaty.

As the peace of Prague was intended to serve as a general law of the
Empire, those points, which did not immediately affect the latter,
formed the subject of a separate treaty. By it, Lusatia was ceded to
the Elector of Saxony as a fief of Bohemia, and special articles
guaranteed the freedom of religion of this country and of Silesia.

All the Protestant states were invited to accede to the treaty of
Prague, and on that condition were to benefit by the amnesty. The
princes of Wurtemberg and Baden, whose territories the Emperor was
already in possession of, and which he was not disposed to restore
unconditionally; and such vassals of Austria as had borne arms against
their sovereign; and those states which, under the direction of
Oxenstiern, composed the council of the Upper German Circle, were
excluded from the treaty,--not so much with the view of continuing the
war against them, as of compelling them to purchase peace at a dearer
rate. Their territories were to be retained in pledge, till every thing
should be restored to its former footing. Such was the treaty of
Prague. Equal justice, however, towards all, might perhaps have
restored confidence between the head of the Empire and its members--
between the Protestants and the Roman Catholics--between the Reformed
and the Lutheran party; and the Swedes, abandoned by all their allies,
would in all probability have been driven from Germany with disgrace.
But this inequality strengthened, in those who were more severely
treated, the spirit of mistrust and opposition, and made it an easier
task for the Swedes to keep alive the flame of war, and to maintain a
party in Germany.

The peace of Prague, as might have been expected, was received with very
various feelings throughout Germany. The attempt to conciliate both
parties, had rendered it obnoxious to both. The Protestants complained
of the restraints imposed upon them; the Roman Catholics thought that
these hated sectaries had been favoured at the expense of the true
church. In the opinion of the latter, the church had been deprived of
its inalienable rights, by the concession to the Protestants of forty
years' undisturbed possession of the ecclesiastical benefices; while the
former murmured that the interests of the Protestant church had been
betrayed, because toleration had not been granted to their
co-religionists in the Austrian dominions. But no one was so bitterly
reproached as the Elector of Saxony, who was publicly denounced as a
deserter, a traitor to religion and the liberties of the Empire, and a
confederate of the Emperor.

In the mean time, he consoled himself with the triumph of seeing most of
the Protestant states compelled by necessity to embrace this peace. The
Elector of Brandenburg, Duke William of Weimar, the princes of Anhalt,
the dukes of Mecklenburg, the dukes of Brunswick Lunenburg, the Hanse
towns, and most of the imperial cities, acceded to it. The Landgrave
William of Hesse long wavered, or affected to do so, in order to gain
time, and to regulate his measures by the course of events. He had
conquered several fertile provinces of Westphalia, and derived from them
principally the means of continuing the war; these, by the terms of the
treaty, he was bound to restore. Bernard, Duke of Weimar, whose states,
as yet, existed only on paper, as a belligerent power was not affected
by the treaty, but as a general was so materially; and, in either view,
he must equally be disposed to reject it. His whole riches consisted in
his bravery, his possessions in his sword. War alone gave him greatness
and importance, and war alone could realize the projects which his
ambition suggested.

But of all who declaimed against the treaty of Prague, none were so loud
in their clamours as the Swedes, and none had so much reason for their
opposition. Invited to Germany by the Germans themselves, the champions
of the Protestant Church, and the freedom of the States, which they had
defended with so much bloodshed, and with the sacred life of their king,
they now saw themselves suddenly and shamefully abandoned, disappointed
in all their hopes, without reward and without gratitude driven from the
empire for which they had toiled and bled, and exposed to the ridicule
of the enemy by the very princes who owed every thing to them. No
satisfaction, no indemnification for the expenses which they had
incurred, no equivalent for the conquests which they were to leave
behind them, was provided by the treaty of Prague. They were to be
dismissed poorer than they came, or, if they resisted, to be expelled by
the very powers who had invited them. The Elector of Saxony at last
spoke of a pecuniary indemnification, and mentioned the small sum of two
millions five hundred thousand florins; but the Swedes had already
expended considerably more, and this disgraceful equivalent in money was
both contrary to their true interests, and injurious to their pride.
"The Electors of Bavaria and Saxony," replied Oxenstiern, "have been
paid for their services, which, as vassals, they were bound to render
the Emperor, with the possession of important provinces; and shall we,
who have sacrificed our king for Germany, be dismissed with the
miserable sum of 2,500,000 florins?" The disappointment of their
expectations was the more severe, because the Swedes had calculated upon
being recompensed with the Duchy of Pomerania, the present possessor of
which was old and without heirs. But the succession of this territory
was confirmed by the treaty of Prague to the Elector of Brandenburg; and
all the neighbouring powers declared against allowing the Swedes to
obtain a footing within the empire.

Never, in the whole course of the war, had the prospects of the Swedes
looked more gloomy, than in the year 1635, immediately after the
conclusion of the treaty of Prague. Many of their allies, particularly
among the free cities, abandoned them to benefit by the peace; others
were compelled to accede to it by the victorious arms of the Emperor.
Augsburg, subdued by famine, surrendered under the severest conditions;
Wurtzburg and Coburg were lost to the Austrians. The League of
Heilbronn was formally dissolved. Nearly the whole of Upper Germany,
the chief seat of the Swedish power, was reduced under the Emperor.
Saxony, on the strength of the treaty of Prague, demanded the evacuation
of Thuringia, Halberstadt, and Magdeburg. Philipsburg, the military
depot of France, was surprised by the Austrians, with all the stores it
contained; and this severe loss checked the activity of France. To
complete the embarrassments of Sweden, the truce with Poland was drawing
to a close. To support a war at the same time with Poland and in
Germany, was far beyond the power of Sweden; and all that remained was
to choose between them. Pride and ambition declared in favour of
continuing the German war, at whatever sacrifice on the side of Poland.
An army, however, was necessary to command the respect of Poland, and to
give weight to Sweden in any negotiations for a truce or a peace.

The mind of Oxenstiern, firm, and inexhaustible in expedients, set
itself manfully to meet these calamities, which all combined to
overwhelm Sweden; and his shrewd understanding taught him how to turn
even misfortunes to his advantage. The defection of so many German
cities of the empire deprived him, it is true, of a great part of his
former allies, but at the same time it freed him from the necessity of
paying any regard to their interests. The more the number of his
enemies increased, the more provinces and magazines were opened to his
troops. The gross ingratitude of the States, and the haughty contempt
with which the Emperor behaved, (who did not even condescend to treat
directly with him about a peace,) excited in him the courage of despair,
and a noble determination to maintain the struggle to the last. The
continuance of war, however unfortunate it might prove, could not render
the situation of Sweden worse than it now was; and if Germany was to be
evacuated, it was at least better and nobler to do so sword in hand, and
to yield to force rather than to fear.

In the extremity in which the Swedes were now placed by the desertion of
their allies, they addressed themselves to France, who met them with the
greatest encouragement. The interests of the two crowns were closely
united, and France would have injured herself by allowing the Swedish
power in Germany to decline. The helpless situation of the Swedes, was
rather an additional motive with France to cement more closely their
alliance, and to take a more active part in the German war. Since the
alliance with Sweden, at Beerwald, in 1632, France had maintained the
war against the Emperor, by the arms of Gustavus Adolphus, without any
open or formal breach, by furnishing subsidies and increasing the number
of his enemies. But alarmed at the unexpected rapidity and success of
the Swedish arms, France, in anxiety to restore the balance of power,
which was disturbed by the preponderance of the Swedes, seemed, for a
time, to have lost sight of her original designs. She endeavoured to
protect the Roman Catholic princes of the empire against the Swedish
conqueror, by the treaties of neutrality, and when this plan failed, she
even meditated herself to declare war against him. But no sooner had
the death of Gustavus Adolphus, and the desperate situation of the
Swedish affairs, dispelled this apprehension, than she returned with
fresh zeal to her first design, and readily afforded in this misfortune
the aid which in the hour of success she had refused. Freed from the
checks which the ambition and vigilance of Gustavus Adolphus placed upon
her plans of aggrandizement, France availed herself of the favourable
opportunity afforded by the defeat of Nordlingen, to obtain the entire
direction of the war, and to prescribe laws to those who sued for her
powerful protection. The moment seemed to smile upon her boldest plans,
and those which had formerly seemed chimerical, now appeared to be
justified by circumstances. She now turned her whole attention to the
war in Germany; and, as soon as she had secured her own private ends by
a treaty with the Germans, she suddenly entered the political arena as
an active and a commanding power. While the other belligerent states
had been exhausting themselves in a tedious contest, France had been
reserving her strength, and maintained the contest by money alone; but
now, when the state of things called for more active measures, she
seized the sword, and astonished Europe by the boldness and magnitude of
her undertakings. At the same moment, she fitted out two fleets, and
sent six different armies into the field, while she subsidized a foreign
crown and several of the German princes. Animated by this powerful
co-operation, the Swedes and Germans awoke from the consternation, and
hoped, sword in hand, to obtain a more honourable peace than that of
Prague. Abandoned by their confederates, who had been reconciled to the
Emperor, they formed a still closer alliance with France, which
increased her support with their growing necessities, at the same time
taking a more active, although secret share in the German war, until at
last, she threw off the mask altogether, and in her own name made an
unequivocal declaration of war against the Emperor.

To leave Sweden at full liberty to act against Austria, France commenced
her operations by liberating it from all fear of a Polish war. By means
of the Count d'Avaux, its minister, an agreement was concluded between
the two powers at Stummsdorf in Prussia, by which the truce was
prolonged for twenty-six years, though not without a great sacrifice on
the part of the Swedes, who ceded by a single stroke of the pen almost
the whole of Polish Prussia, the dear-bought conquest of Gustavus
Adolphus. The treaty of Beerwald was, with certain modifications, which
circumstances rendered necessary, renewed at different times at
Compiegne, and afterwards at Wismar and Hamburg. France had already
come to a rupture with Spain, in May, 1635, and the vigorous attack
which it made upon that power, deprived the Emperor of his most valuable
auxiliaries from the Netherlands. By supporting the Landgrave William
of Cassel, and Duke Bernard of Weimar, the Swedes were enabled to act
with more vigour upon the Elbe and the Danube, and a diversion upon the
Rhine compelled the Emperor to divide his force.

The war was now prosecuted with increasing activity. By the treaty of
Prague, the Emperor had lessened the number of his adversaries within
the Empire; though, at the same time, the zeal and activity of his
foreign enemies had been augmented by it. In Germany, his influence was
almost unlimited, for, with the exception of a few states, he had
rendered himself absolute master of the German body and its resources,
and was again enabled to act in the character of emperor and sovereign.
The first fruit of his power was the elevation of his son, Ferdinand
III., to the dignity of King of the Romans, to which he was elected by a
decided majority of votes, notwithstanding the opposition of Treves, and
of the heirs of the Elector Palatine. But, on the other hand, he had
exasperated the Swedes to desperation, had armed the power of France
against him, and drawn its troops into the heart of the kingdom. France
and Sweden, with their German allies, formed, from this moment, one firm
and compactly united power; the Emperor, with the German states which
adhered to him, were equally firm and united. The Swedes, who no longer
fought for Germany, but for their own lives, showed no more indulgence;
relieved from the necessity of consulting their German allies, or
accounting to them for the plans which they adopted, they acted with
more precipitation, rapidity, and boldness. Battles, though less
decisive, became more obstinate and bloody; greater achievements, both
in bravery and military skill, were performed; but they were but
insulated efforts; and being neither dictated by any consistent plan,
nor improved by any commanding spirit, had comparatively little
influence upon the course of the war.

Saxony had bound herself, by the treaty of Prague, to expel the Swedes
from Germany. From this moment, the banners of the Saxons and
Imperialists were united: the former confederates were converted into
implacable enemies. The archbishopric of Magdeburg which, by the
treaty, was ceded to the prince of Saxony, was still held by the Swedes,
and every attempt to acquire it by negociation had proved ineffectual.
Hostilities commenced, by the Elector of Saxony recalling all his
subjects from the army of Banner, which was encamped upon the Elbe. The
officers, long irritated by the accumulation of their arrears, obeyed
the summons, and evacuated one quarter after another. As the Saxons, at
the same time, made a movement towards Mecklenburg, to take Doemitz, and
to drive the Swedes from Pomerania and the Baltic, Banner suddenly
marched thither, relieved Doemitz, and totally defeated the Saxon
General Baudissin, with 7000 men, of whom 1000 were slain, and about the
same number taken prisoners. Reinforced by the troops and artillery,
which had hitherto been employed in Polish Prussia, but which the treaty
of Stummsdorf rendered unnecessary, this brave and impetuous general
made, the following year (1636), a sudden inroad into the Electorate of
Saxony, where he gratified his inveterate hatred of the Saxons by the
most destructive ravages. Irritated by the memory of old grievances
which, during their common campaigns, he and the Swedes had suffered
from the haughtiness of the Saxons, and now exasperated to the utmost by
the late defection of the Elector, they wreaked upon the unfortunate
inhabitants all their rancour. Against Austria and Bavaria, the Swedish
soldier had fought from a sense, as it were, of duty; but against the
Saxons, they contended with all the energy of private animosity and
personal revenge, detesting them as deserters and traitors; for the
hatred of former friends is of all the most fierce and irreconcileable.
The powerful diversion made by the Duke of Weimar, and the Landgrave of
Hesse, upon the Rhine and in Westphalia, prevented the Emperor from
affording the necessary assistance to Saxony, and left the whole
Electorate exposed to the destructive ravages of Banner's army.

At length, the Elector, having formed a junction with the Imperial
General Hatzfeld, advanced against Magdeburg, which Banner in vain
hastened to relieve. The united army of the Imperialists and the Saxons
now spread itself over Brandenburg, wrested several places from the
Swedes, and almost drove them to the Baltic. But, contrary to all
expectation, Banner, who had been given up as lost, attacked the allies,
on the 24th of September, 1636, at Wittstock, where a bloody battle took
place. The onset was terrific; and the whole force of the enemy was
directed against the right wing of the Swedes, which was led by Banner
in person. The contest was long maintained with equal animosity and
obstinacy on both sides. There was not a squadron among the Swedes,
which did not return ten times to the charge, to be as often repulsed;
when at last, Banner was obliged to retire before the superior numbers
of the enemy. His left wing sustained the combat until night, and the
second line of the Swedes, which had not as yet been engaged, was
prepared to renew it the next morning. But the Elector did not wait for
a second attack. His army was exhausted by the efforts of the preceding
day; and, as the drivers had fled with the horses, his artillery was
unserviceable. He accordingly retreated in the night, with Count
Hatzfeld, and relinquished the ground to the Swedes. About 5000 of the
allies fell upon the field, exclusive of those who were killed in the
pursuit, or who fell into the hands of the exasperated peasantry. One
hundred and fifty standards and colours, twenty-three pieces of cannon,
the whole baggage and silver plate of the Elector, were captured, and
more than 2000 men taken prisoners. This brilliant victory, achieved
over an enemy far superior in numbers, and in a very advantageous
position, restored the Swedes at once to their former reputation; their
enemies were discouraged, and their friends inspired with new hopes.
Banner instantly followed up this decisive success, and hastily crossing
the Elbe, drove the Imperialists before him, through Thuringia and
Hesse, into Westphalia. He then returned, and took up his winter
quarters in Saxony.

But, without the material aid furnished by the diversion upon the Rhine,
and the activity there of Duke Bernard and the French, these important
successes would have been unattainable. Duke Bernard, after the defeat
of Nordlingen, reorganized his broken army at Wetterau; but, abandoned
by the confederates of the League of Heilbronn, which had been dissolved
by the peace of Prague, and receiving little support from the Swedes, he
found himself unable to maintain an army, or to perform any enterprise
of importance. The defeat at Nordlingen had terminated all his hopes on
the Duchy of Franconia, while the weakness of the Swedes, destroyed the
chance of retrieving his fortunes through their assistance. Tired, too,
of the constraint imposed upon him by the imperious chancellor, he
turned his attention to France, who could easily supply him with money,
the only aid which he required, and France readily acceded to his
proposals. Richelieu desired nothing so much as to diminish the
influence of the Swedes in the German war, and to obtain the direction
of it for himself. To secure this end, nothing appeared more effectual
than to detach from the Swedes their bravest general, to win him to the
interests of France, and to secure for the execution of its projects the
services of his arm. From a prince like Bernard, who could not maintain
himself without foreign support, France had nothing to fear, since no
success, however brilliant, could render him independent of that crown.
Bernard himself came into France, and in October, 1635, concluded a
treaty at St. Germaine en Laye, not as a Swedish general, but in his
own name, by which it was stipulated that he should receive for himself
a yearly pension of one million five hundred thousand livres, and four
millions for the support of his army, which he was to command under the
orders of the French king. To inflame his zeal, and to accelerate the
conquest of Alsace, France did not hesitate, by a secret article, to
promise him that province for his services; a promise which Richelieu
had little intention of performing, and which the duke also estimated at
its real worth. But Bernard confided in his good fortune, and in his
arms, and met artifice with dissimulation. If he could once succeed in
wresting Alsace from the enemy, he did not despair of being able, in
case of need, to maintain it also against a friend. He now raised an
army at the expense of France, which he commanded nominally under the
orders of that power, but in reality without any limitation whatever,
and without having wholly abandoned his engagements with Sweden. He
began his operations upon the Rhine, where another French army, under
Cardinal Lavalette, had already, in 1635, commenced hostilities against
the Emperor.

Against this force, the main body of the Imperialists, after the great
victory of Nordlingen, and the reduction of Swabia and Franconia had
advanced under the command of Gallas, had driven them as far as Metz,
cleared the Rhine, and took from the Swedes the towns of Metz and
Frankenthal, of which they were in possession. But frustrated by the
vigorous resistance of the French, in his main object, of taking up his
winter quarters in France, he led back his exhausted troops into Alsace
and Swabia. At the opening of the next campaign, he passed the Rhine at
Breysach, and prepared to carry the war into the interior of France. He
actually entered Burgundy, while the Spaniards from the Netherlands made
progress in Picardy; and John De Werth, a formidable general of the
League, and a celebrated partisan, pushed his march into Champagne, and
spread consternation even to the gates of Paris. But an insignificant
fortress in Franche Comte completely checked the Imperialists, and they
were obliged, a second time, to abandon their enterprise.

The activity of Duke Bernard had hitherto been impeded by his dependence
on a French general, more suited to the priestly robe, than to the baton
of command; and although, in conjunction with him, he conquered Alsace
Saverne, he found himself unable, in the years 1636 and 1637, to
maintain his position upon the Rhine. The ill success of the French
arms in the Netherlands had cheated the activity of operations in Alsace
and Breisgau; but in 1638, the war in that quarter took a more brilliant
turn. Relieved from his former restraint, and with unlimited command of
his troops, Duke Bernard, in the beginning of February, left his winter
quarters in the bishopric of Basle, and unexpectedly appeared upon the
Rhine, where, at this rude season of the year, an attack was little
anticipated. The forest towns of Laufenburg, Waldshut, and Seckingen,
were surprised, and Rhinefeldt besieged. The Duke of Savelli, the
Imperial general who commanded in that quarter, hastened by forced
marches to the relief of this important place, succeeded in raising the
siege, and compelled the Duke of Weimar, with great loss to retire.
But, contrary to all human expectation, he appeared on the third day
after, (21st February, 1638,) before the Imperialists, in order of
battle, and defeated them in a bloody engagement, in which the four
Imperial generals, Savelli, John De Werth, Enkeford, and Sperreuter,
with 2000 men, were taken prisoners. Two of these, De Werth and
Enkeford, were afterwards sent by Richelieu's orders into France, in
order to flatter the vanity of the French by the sight of such
distinguished prisoners, and by the pomp of military trophies, to
withdraw the attention of the populace from the public distress. The
captured standards and colours were, with the same view, carried in
solemn procession to the church of Notre Dame, thrice exhibited before
the altar, and committed to sacred custody.

The taking of Rhinefeldt, Roeteln, and Fribourg, was the immediate
consequence of the duke's victory. His army now increased by
considerable recruits, and his projects expanded in proportion as
fortune favoured him. The fortress of Breysach upon the Rhine was
looked upon as holding the command of that river, and as the key of
Alsace. No place in this quarter was of more importance to the Emperor,
and upon none had more care been bestowed. To protect Breysach, was the
principal destination of the Italian army, under the Duke of Feria; the
strength of its works, and its natural defences, bade defiance to
assault, while the Imperial generals who commanded in that quarter had
orders to retain it at any cost. But the duke, trusting to his good
fortune, resolved to attempt the siege. Its strength rendered it
impregnable; it could, therefore, only be starved into a surrender; and
this was facilitated by the carelessness of the commandant, who,
expecting no attack, had been selling off his stores. As under these
circumstances the town could not long hold out, it must be immediately
relieved or victualled. Accordingly, the Imperial General Goetz rapidly
advanced at the head of 12,000 men, accompanied by 3000 waggons loaded
with provisions, which he intended to throw into the place. But he was
attacked with such vigour by Duke Bernard at Witteweyer, that he lost
his whole force, except 3000 men, together with the entire transport. A
similar fate at Ochsenfeld, near Thann, overtook the Duke of Lorraine,
who, with 5000 or 6000 men, advanced to relieve the fortress. After a
third attempt of general Goetz for the relief of Breysach had proved
ineffectual, the fortress, reduced to the greatest extremity by famine,
surrendered, after a blockade of four months, on the 17th December 1638,
to its equally persevering and humane conqueror.

The capture of Breysach opened a boundless field to the ambition of the
Duke of Weimar, and the romance of his hopes was fast approaching to
reality. Far from intending to surrender his conquests to France, he
destined Breysach for himself, and revealed this intention, by exacting
allegiance from the vanquished, in his own name, and not in that of any
other power. Intoxicated by his past success, and excited by the
boldest hopes, he believed that he should be able to maintain his
conquests, even against France herself. At a time when everything
depended upon bravery, when even personal strength was of importance,
when troops and generals were of more value than territories, it was
natural for a hero like Bernard to place confidence in his own powers,
and, at the head of an excellent army, who under his command had proved
invincible, to believe himself capable of accomplishing the boldest and
largest designs. In order to secure himself one friend among the crowd
of enemies whom he was about to provoke, he turned his eyes upon the
Landgravine Amelia of Hesse, the widow of the lately deceased Landgrave
William, a princess whose talents were equal to her courage, and who,
along with her hand, would bestow valuable conquests, an extensive
principality, and a well disciplined army. By the union of the
conquests of Hesse, with his own upon the Rhine, and the junction of
their forces, a power of some importance, and perhaps a third party,
might be formed in Germany, which might decide the fate of the war. But
a premature death put a period to these extensive schemes.

"Courage, Father Joseph, Breysach is ours!" whispered Richelieu in the
ear of the Capuchin, who had long held himself in readiness to be
despatched into that quarter; so delighted was he with this joyful
intelligence. Already in imagination he held Alsace, Breisgau, and all
the frontiers of Austria in that quarter, without regard to his promise
to Duke Bernard. But the firm determination which the latter had
unequivocally shown, to keep Breysach for himself, greatly embarrassed
the cardinal, and no efforts were spared to retain the victorious
Bernard in the interests of France. He was invited to court, to witness
the honours by which his triumph was to be commemorated; but he
perceived and shunned the seductive snare. The cardinal even went so
far as to offer him the hand of his niece in marriage; but the proud
German prince declined the offer, and refused to sully the blood of
Saxony by a misalliance. He was now considered as a dangerous enemy,
and treated as such. His subsidies were withdrawn; and the Governor of
Breysach and his principal officers were bribed, at least upon the event
of the duke's death, to take possession of his conquests, and to secure
his troops. These intrigues were no secret to the duke, and the
precautions he took in the conquered places, clearly bespoke the
distrust of France. But this misunderstanding with the French court had
the most prejudicial influence upon his future operations. The
preparations he was obliged to make, in order to secure his conquests
against an attack on the side of France, compelled him to divide his
military strength, while the stoppage of his subsidies delayed his
appearance in the field. It had been his intention to cross the Rhine,
to support the Swedes, and to act against the Emperor and Bavaria on the
banks of the Danube. He had already communicated his plan of operations
to Banner, who was about to carry the war into the Austrian territories,
and had promised to relieve him so, when a sudden death cut short his
heroic career, in the 36th year of his age, at Neuburgh upon the Rhine
(in July, 1639).

He died of a pestilential disorder, which, in the course of two days,
had carried off nearly 400 men in his camp. The black spots which
appeared upon his body, his own dying expressions, and the advantages
which France was likely to reap from his sudden decease, gave rise to a
suspicion that he had been removed by poison--a suspicion sufficiently
refuted by the symptoms of his disorder. In him, the allies lost their
greatest general after Gustavus Adolphus, France a formidable competitor
for Alsace, and the Emperor his most dangerous enemy. Trained to the
duties of a soldier and a general in the school of Gustavus Adolphus, he
successfully imitated his eminent model, and wanted only a longer life
to equal, if not to surpass it. With the bravery of the soldier, he
united the calm and cool penetration of the general and the persevering
fortitude of the man, with the daring resolution of youth; with the wild
ardour of the warrior, the sober dignity of the prince, the moderation
of the sage, and the conscientiousness of the man of honour.
Discouraged by no misfortune, he quickly rose again in full vigour from
the severest defeats; no obstacles could check his enterprise, no
disappointments conquer his indomitable perseverance. His genius,
perhaps, soared after unattainable objects; but the prudence of such
men, is to be measured by a different standard from that of ordinary
people. Capable of accomplishing more, he might venture to form more
daring plans. Bernard affords, in modern history, a splendid example of
those days of chivalry, when personal greatness had its full weight and
influence, when individual bravery could conquer provinces, and the
heroic exploits of a German knight raised him even to the Imperial
throne.

The best part of the duke's possessions were his army, which, together
with Alsace, he bequeathed to his brother William. But to this army,
both France and Sweden thought that they had well-grounded claims; the
latter, because it had been raised in name of that crown, and had done
homage to it; the former, because it had been supported by its
subsidies. The Electoral Prince of the Palatinate also negociated for
its services, and attempted, first by his agents, and latterly in his
own person, to win it over to his interests, with the view of employing
it in the reconquest of his territories. Even the Emperor endeavoured
to secure it, a circumstance the less surprising, when we reflect that
at this time the justice of the cause was comparatively unimportant, and
the extent of the recompense the main object to which the soldier
looked; and when bravery, like every other commodity, was disposed of to
the highest bidder. But France, richer and more determined, outbade all
competitors: it bought over General Erlach, the commander of Breysach,
and the other officers, who soon placed that fortress, with the whole
army, in their hands.

The young Palatine, Prince Charles Louis, who had already made an
unsuccessful campaign against the Emperor, saw his hopes again deceived.
Although intending to do France so ill a service, as to compete with her
for Bernard's army, he had the imprudence to travel through that
kingdom. The cardinal, who dreaded the justice of the Palatine's cause,
was glad to seize any opportunity to frustrate his views. He
accordingly caused him to be seized at Moulin, in violation of the law
of nations, and did not set him at liberty, until he learned that the
army of the Duke of Weimar had been secured. France was now in
possession of a numerous and well disciplined army in Germany, and from
this moment began to make open war upon the Emperor.

But it was no longer against Ferdinand II. that its hostilities were to
be conducted; for that prince had died in February, 1637, in the 59th
year of his age. The war which his ambition had kindled, however,
survived him. During a reign of eighteen years he had never once laid
aside the sword, nor tasted the blessings of peace as long as his hand
swayed the imperial sceptre. Endowed with the qualities of a good
sovereign, adorned with many of those virtues which ensure the happiness
of a people, and by nature gentle and humane, we see him, from erroneous
ideas of the monarch's duty, become at once the instrument and the
victim of the evil passions of others; his benevolent intentions
frustrated, and the friend of justice converted into the oppressor of
mankind, the enemy of peace, and the scourge of his people. Amiable in
domestic life, and respectable as a sovereign, but in his policy ill
advised, while he gained the love of his Roman Catholic subjects, he
incurred the execration of the Protestants. History exhibits many and
greater despots than Ferdinand II., yet he alone has had the unfortunate
celebrity of kindling a thirty years' war; but to produce its lamentable
consequences, his ambition must have been seconded by a kindred spirit
of the age, a congenial state of previous circumstances, and existing
seeds of discord. At a less turbulent period, the spark would have
found no fuel; and the peacefulness of the age would have choked the
voice of individual ambition; but now the flash fell upon a pile of
accumulated combustibles, and Europe was in flames.

His son, Ferdinand III., who, a few months before his father's death,
had been raised to the dignity of King of the Romans, inherited his
throne, his principles, and the war which he had caused. But Ferdinand
III. had been a closer witness of the sufferings of the people, and the
devastation of the country, and felt more keenly and ardently the
necessity of peace. Less influenced by the Jesuits and the Spaniards,
and more moderate towards the religious views of others, he was more
likely than his father to listen to the voice of reason. He did so, and
ultimately restored to Europe the blessing of peace, but not till after
a contest of eleven years waged with sword and pen; not till after he
had experienced the impossibility of resistance, and necessity had laid
upon him its stern laws.

Fortune favoured him at the commencement of his reign, and his arms were
victorious against the Swedes. The latter, under the command of the
victorious Banner, had, after their success at Wittstock, taken up their
winter quarters in Saxony; and the campaign of 1637 opened with the
siege of Leipzig. The vigorous resistance of the garrison, and the
approach of the Electoral and Imperial armies, saved the town, and
Banner, to prevent his communication with the Elbe being cut off, was
compelled to retreat into Torgau. But the superior number of the
Imperialists drove him even from that quarter; and, surrounded by the
enemy, hemmed in by rivers, and suffering from famine, he had no course
open to him but to attempt a highly dangerous retreat into Pomerania, of
which, the boldness and successful issue border upon romance. The whole
army crossed the Oder, at a ford near Furstenberg; and the soldiers,
wading up to the neck in water, dragged the artillery across, when the
horses refused to draw. Banner had expected to be joined by General
Wrangel, on the farther side of the Oder in Pomerania; and, in
conjunction with him, to be able to make head against the enemy. But
Wrangel did not appear; and in his stead, he found an Imperial army
posted at Landsberg, with a view to cut off the retreat of the Swedes.
Banner now saw that he had fallen into a dangerous snare, from which
escape appeared impossible. In his rear lay an exhausted country, the
Imperialists, and the Oder on his left; the Oder, too, guarded by the
Imperial General Bucheim, offered no retreat; in front, Landsberg,
Custrin, the Warta, and a hostile army; and on the right, Poland, in
which, notwithstanding the truce, little confidence could be placed. In
these circumstances, his position seemed hopeless, and the Imperialists
were already triumphing in the certainty of his fall. Banner, with just
indignation, accused the French as the authors of this misfortune. They
had neglected to make, according to their promise, a diversion upon the
Rhine; and, by their inaction, allowed the Emperor to combine his whole
force upon the Swedes. "When the day comes," cried the incensed General
to the French Commissioner, who followed the camp, "that the Swedes and
Germans join their arms against France, we shall cross the Rhine with
less ceremony." But reproaches were now useless; what the emergency
demanded was energy and resolution. In the hope of drawing the enemy by
stratagem from the Oder, Banner pretended to march towards Poland, and
despatched the greater part of his baggage in this direction, with his
own wife, and those of the other officers. The Imperialists immediately
broke up their camp, and hurried towards the Polish frontier to block up
the route; Bucheim left his station, and the Oder was stripped of its
defenders. On a sudden, and under cloud of night, Banner turned towards
that river, and crossed it about a mile above Custrin, with his troops,
baggage, and artillery, without bridges or vessels, as he had done
before at Furstenberg. He reached Pomerania without loss, and prepared
to share with Wrangel the defence of that province.

But the Imperialists, under the command of Gallas, entered that duchy at
Ribses, and overran it by their superior strength. Usedom and Wolgast
were taken by storm, Demmin capitulated, and the Swedes were driven far
into Lower Pomerania. It was, too, more important for them at this
moment than ever, to maintain a footing in that country, for Bogislaus
XIV. had died that year, and Sweden must prepare to establish its title
to Pomerania. To prevent the Elector of Brandenburg from making good
the title to that duchy, which the treaty of Prague had given him,
Sweden exerted her utmost energies, and supported its generals to the
extent of her ability, both with troops and money. In other quarters of
the kingdom, the affairs of the Swedes began to wear a more favourable
aspect, and to recover from the humiliation into which they had been
thrown by the inaction of France, and the desertion of their allies.
For, after their hasty retreat into Pomerania, they had lost one place
after another in Upper Saxony; the princes of Mecklenburg, closely
pressed by the troops of the Emperor, began to lean to the side of
Austria, and even George, Duke of Lunenburg, declared against them.
Ehrenbreitstein was starved into a surrender by the Bavarian General de
Werth, and the Austrians possessed themselves of all the works which had
been thrown up on the Rhine. France had been the sufferer in the
contest with Spain; and the event had by no means justified the pompous
expectations which had accompanied the opening of the campaign. Every
place which the Swedes had held in the interior of Germany was lost; and
only the principal towns in Pomerania still remained in their hands.
But a single campaign raised them from this state of humiliation; and
the vigorous diversion, which the victorious Bernard had effected upon
the Rhine, gave quite a new turn to affairs.

The misunderstandings between France and Sweden were now at last
adjusted, and the old treaty between these powers confirmed at Hamburg,
with fresh advantages for Sweden. In Hesse, the politic Landgravine
Amelia had, with the approbation of the Estates, assumed the government
after the death of her husband, and resolutely maintained her rights
against the Emperor and the House of Darmstadt. Already zealously
attached to the Swedish Protestant party, on religious grounds, she only
awaited a favourable opportunity openly to declare herself. By artful
delays, and by prolonging the negociations with the Emperor, she had
succeeded in keeping him inactive, till she had concluded a secret
compact with France, and the victories of Duke Bernard had given a
favourable turn to the affairs of the Protestants. She now at once
threw off the mask, and renewed her former alliance with the Swedish
crown. The Electoral Prince of the Palatinate was also stimulated, by
the success of Bernard, to try his fortune against the common enemy.
Raising troops in Holland with English money, he formed a magazine at
Meppen, and joined the Swedes in Westphalia. His magazine was, however,
quickly lost; his army defeated near Flotha, by Count Hatzfeld; but his
attempt served to occupy for some time the attention of the enemy, and
thereby facilitated the operations of the Swedes in other quarters.
Other friends began to appear, as fortune declared in their favour, and
the circumstance, that the States of Lower Saxony embraced a neutrality,
was of itself no inconsiderable advantage.

Under these advantages, and reinforced by 14,000 fresh troops from
Sweden and Livonia. Banner opened, with the most favourable prospects,
the campaign of 1638. The Imperialists who were in possession of Upper
Pomerania and Mecklenburg, either abandoned their positions, or deserted
in crowds to the Swedes, to avoid the horrors of famine, the most
formidable enemy in this exhausted country. The whole country betwixt
the Elbe and the Oder was so desolated by the past marchings and
quarterings of the troops, that, in order to support his army on its
march into Saxony and Bohemia, Banner was obliged to take a circuitous
route from Lower Pomerania into Lower Saxony, and then into the
Electorate of Saxony through the territory of Halberstadt. The
impatience of the Lower Saxon States to get rid of such troublesome
guests, procured him so plentiful a supply of provisions, that he was
provided with bread in Magdeburg itself, where famine had even overcome
the natural antipathy of men to human flesh. His approach spread
consternation among the Saxons; but his views were directed not against
this exhausted country, but against the hereditary dominions of the
Emperor. The victories of Bernard encouraged him, while the prosperity
of the Austrian provinces excited his hopes of booty. After defeating
the Imperial General Salis, at Elsterberg, totally routing the Saxon
army at Chemnitz, and taking Pirna, he penetrated with irresistible
impetuosity into Bohemia, crossed the Elbe, threatened Prague, took
Brandeis and Leutmeritz, defeated General Hofkirchen with ten regiments,
and spread terror and devastation through that defenceless kingdom.
Booty was his sole object, and whatever he could not carry off he
destroyed. In order to remove more of the corn, the ears were cut from
the stalks, and the latter burnt. Above a thousand castles, hamlets,
and villages were laid in ashes; sometimes more than a hundred were seen
burning in one night. From Bohemia he crossed into Silesia, and it was
his intention to carry his ravages even into Moravia and Austria. But
to prevent this, Count Hatzfeld was summoned from Westphalia, and
Piccolomini from the Netherlands, to hasten with all speed to this
quarter. The Archduke Leopold, brother to the Emperor, assumed the
command, in order to repair the errors of his predecessor Gallas, and to
raise the army from the low ebb to which it had fallen.

The result justified the change, and the campaign of 1640 appeared to
take a most unfortunate turn for the Swedes. They were successively
driven out of all their posts in Bohemia, and anxious only to secure
their plunder, they precipitately crossed the heights of Meissen. But
being followed into Saxony by the pursuing enemy, and defeated at
Plauen, they were obliged to take refuge in Thuringia. Made masters of
the field in a single summer, they were as rapidly dispossessed; but
only to acquire it a second time, and to hurry from one extreme to
another. The army of Banner, weakened and on the brink of destruction
in its camp at Erfurt, suddenly recovered itself. The Duke of Lunenburg
abandoned the treaty of Prague, and joined Banner with the very troops
which, the year before, had fought against him. Hesse Cassel sent
reinforcements, and the Duke of Longueville came to his support with the
army of the late Duke Bernard. Once more numerically superior to the
Imperialists, Banner offered them battle near Saalfeld; but their
leader, Piccolomini, prudently declined an engagement, having chosen too
strong a position to be forced. When the Bavarians at length separated
from the Imperialists, and marched towards Franconia, Banner attempted
an attack upon this divided corps, but the attempt was frustrated by the
skill of the Bavarian General Von Mercy, and the near approach of the
main body of the Imperialists. Both armies now moved into the exhausted
territory of Hesse, where they formed intrenched camps near each other,
till at last famine and the severity of the winter compelled them both
to retire. Piccolomini chose the fertile banks of the Weser for his
winter quarters; but being outflanked by Banner, he was obliged to give
way to the Swedes, and to impose on the Franconian sees the burden of
maintaining his army.

At this period, a diet was held in Ratisbon, where the complaints of the
States were to be heard, measures taken for securing the repose of the
Empire, and the question of peace or war finally settled. The presence
of the Emperor, the majority of the Roman Catholic voices in the
Electoral College, the great number of bishops, and the withdrawal of
several of the Protestant votes, gave the Emperor a complete command of
the deliberations of the assembly, and rendered this diet any thing but
a fair representative of the opinions of the German Empire. The
Protestants, with reason, considered it as a mere combination of Austria
and its creatures against their party; and it seemed to them a laudable
effort to interrupt its deliberations, and to dissolve the diet itself.

Banner undertook this bold enterprise. His military reputation had
suffered by his last retreat from Bohemia, and it stood in need of some
great exploit to restore its former lustre. Without communicating his
designs to any one, in the depth of the winter of 1641, as soon as the
roads and rivers were frozen, he broke up from his quarters in
Lunenburg. Accompanied by Marshal Guebriant, who commanded the armies
of France and Weimar, he took the route towards the Danube, through
Thuringia and Vogtland, and appeared before Ratisbon, ere the Diet could
be apprised of his approach. The consternation of the assembly was
indescribable; and, in the first alarm, the deputies prepared for
flight. The Emperor alone declared that he would not leave the town,
and encouraged the rest by his example. Unfortunately for the Swedes, a
thaw came on, which broke up the ice upon the Danube, so that it was no
longer passable on foot, while no boats could cross it, on account of
the quantities of ice which were swept down by the current. In order to
perform something, and to humble the pride of the Emperor, Banner
discourteously fired 500 cannon shots into the town, which, however, did
little mischief. Baffled in his designs, he resolved to penetrate
farther into Bavaria, and the defenceless province of Moravia, where a
rich booty and comfortable quarters awaited his troops. Guebriant,
however, began to fear that the purpose of the Swedes was to draw the
army of Bernard away from the Rhine, and to cut off its communication
with France, till it should be either entirely won over, or
incapacitated from acting independently. He therefore separated from
Banner to return to the Maine; and the latter was exposed to the whole
force of the Imperialists, which had been secretly drawn together
between Ratisbon and Ingoldstadt, and was on its march against him. It
was now time to think of a rapid retreat, which, having to be effected
in the face of an army superior in cavalry, and betwixt woods and
rivers, through a country entirely hostile, appeared almost
impracticable. He hastily retired towards the Forest, intending to
penetrate through Bohemia into Saxony; but he was obliged to sacrifice
three regiments at Neuburg. These with a truly Spartan courage,
defended themselves for four days behind an old wall, and gained time
for Banner to escape. He retreated by Egra to Annaberg; Piccolomini
took a shorter route in pursuit, by Schlakenwald; and Banner succeeded,
only by a single half hour, in clearing the Pass of Prisnitz, and saving
his whole army from the Imperialists. At Zwickau he was again joined by
Guebriant; and both generals directed their march towards Halberstadt,
after in vain attempting to defend the Saal, and to prevent the passage
of the Imperialists.

Banner, at length, terminated his career at Halberstadt, in May 1641, a
victim to vexation and disappointment. He sustained with great renown,
though with varying success, the reputation of the Swedish arms in
Germany, and by a train of victories showed himself worthy of his great
master in the art of war. He was fertile in expedients, which he
planned with secrecy, and executed with boldness; cautious in the midst
of dangers, greater in adversity than in prosperity, and never more
formidable than when upon the brink of destruction. But the virtues of
the hero were united with all the railings and vices which a military
life creates, or at least fosters. As imperious in private life as he
was at the head of his army, rude as his profession, and proud as a
conqueror; he oppressed the German princes no less by his haughtiness,
than their country by his contributions. He consoled himself for the
toils of war in voluptuousness and the pleasures of the table, in which
he indulged to excess, and was thus brought to an early grave. But
though as much addicted to pleasure as Alexander or Mahomet the Second,
he hurried from the arms of luxury into the hardest fatigues, and placed
himself in all his vigour at the head of his army, at the very moment
his soldiers were murmuring at his luxurious excesses. Nearly 80,000
men fell in the numerous battles which he fought, and about 600 hostile
standards and colours, which he sent to Stockholm, were the trophies of
his victories. The want of this great general was soon severely felt by
the Swedes, who feared, with justice, that the loss would not readily be
replaced. The spirit of rebellion and insubordination, which had been
overawed by the imperious demeanour of this dreaded commander, awoke
upon his death. The officers, with an alarming unanimity, demanded
payment of their arrears; and none of the four generals who shared the
command, possessed influence enough to satisfy these demands, or to
silence the malcontents. All discipline was at an end, increasing want,
and the imperial citations were daily diminishing the number of the
army; the troops of France and Weimar showed little zeal; those of
Lunenburg forsook the Swedish colours; the Princes also of the House of
Brunswick, after the death of Duke George, had formed a separate treaty
with the Emperor; and at last even those of Hesse quitted them, to seek
better quarters in Westphalia. The enemy profited by these calamitous
divisions; and although defeated with loss in two pitched battles,
succeeded in making considerable progress in Lower Saxony.

At length appeared the new Swedish generalissimo, with fresh troops and
money. This was Bernard Torstensohn, a pupil of Gustavus Adolphus, and
his most successful imitator, who had been his page during the Polish
war. Though a martyr to the gout, and confined to a litter, he
surpassed all his opponents in activity; and his enterprises had wings,
while his body was held by the most frightful of fetters. Under him,
the scene of war was changed, and new maxims adopted, which necessity
dictated, and the issue justified. All the countries in which the
contest had hitherto raged were exhausted; while the House of Austria,
safe in its more distant territories, felt not the miseries of the war
under which the rest of Germany groaned. Torstensohn first furnished
them with this bitter experience, glutted his Swedes on the fertile
produce of Austria, and carried the torch of war to the very footsteps
of the imperial throne.

In Silesia, the enemy had gained considerable advantages over the
Swedish general Stalhantsch, and driven him as far as Neumark.
Torstensohn, who had joined the main body of the Swedes in Lunenburg,
summoned him to unite with his force, and in the year 1642 hastily
marched into Silesia through Brandenburg, which, under its great
Elector, had begun to maintain an armed neutrality. Glogau was carried,
sword in hand, without a breach, or formal approaches; the Duke Francis
Albert of Lauenburg defeated and killed at Schweidnitz; and Schweidnitz
itself with almost all the towns on that side of the Oder, taken. He
now penetrated with irresistible violence into the interior of Moravia,
where no enemy of Austria had hitherto appeared, took Olmutz, and threw
Vienna itself into consternation.

But, in the mean time, Piccolomini and the Archduke Leopold had
collected a superior force, which speedily drove the Swedish conquerors
from Moravia, and after a fruitless attempt upon Brieg, from Silesia.
Reinforced by Wrangel, the Swedes again attempted to make head against
the enemy, and relieved Grossglogau; but could neither bring the
Imperialists to an engagement, nor carry into effect their own views
upon Bohemia. Overrunning Lusatia, they took Zittau, in presence of the
enemy, and after a short stay in that country, directed their march
towards the Elbe, which they passed at Torgau. Torstensohn now
threatened Leipzig with a siege, and hoped to raise a large supply of
provisions and contributions from that prosperous town, which for ten
years had been unvisited with the scourge of war.

The Imperialists, under Leopold and Piccolomini, immediately hastened by
Dresden to its relief, and Torstensohn, to avoid being inclosed between
this army and the town, boldly advanced to meet them in order of battle.
By a strange coincidence, the two armies met upon the very spot which,
eleven years before, Gustavus Adolphus had rendered remarkable by a
decisive victory; and the heroism of their predecessors, now kindled in
the Swedes a noble emulation on this consecrated ground. The Swedish
generals, Stahlhantsch and Wellenberg, led their divisions with such
impetuosity upon the left wing of the Imperialists, before it was
completely formed, that the whole cavalry that covered it were dispersed
and rendered unserviceable. But the left of the Swedes was threatened
with a similar fate, when the victorious right advanced to its
assistance, took the enemy in flank and rear, and divided the Austrian
line. The infantry on both sides stood firm as a wall, and when their
ammunition was exhausted, maintained the combat with the butt-ends of
their muskets, till at last the Imperialists, completely surrounded,
after a contest of three hours, were compelled to abandon the field.
The generals on both sides had more than once to rally their flying
troops; and the Archduke Leopold, with his regiment, was the first in
the attack and last in flight. But this bloody victory cost the Swedes
more than 3000 men, and two of their best generals, Schlangen and
Lilienhoeck. More than 5000 of the Imperialists were left upon the
field, and nearly as many taken prisoners. Their whole artillery,
consisting of 46 field-pieces, the silver plate and portfolio of the
archduke, with the whole baggage of the army, fell into the hands of the
victors. Torstensohn, too greatly disabled by his victory to pursue the
enemy, moved upon Leipzig. The defeated army retired into Bohemia,
where its shattered regiments reassembled. The Archduke Leopold could
not recover from the vexation caused by this defeat; and the regiment of
cavalry which, by its premature flight, had occasioned the disaster,
experienced the effects of his indignation. At Raconitz in Bohemia, in
presence of the whole army, he publicly declared it infamous, deprived
it of its horses, arms, and ensigns, ordered its standards to be torn,
condemned to death several of the officers, and decimated the privates.

The surrender of Leipzig, three weeks after the battle, was its
brilliant result. The city was obliged to clothe the Swedish troops
anew, and to purchase an exemption from plunder, by a contribution of
300,000 rix-dollars, to which all the foreign merchants, who had
warehouses in the city, were to furnish their quota. In the middle of
winter, Torstensohn advanced against Freyberg, and for several weeks
defied the inclemency of the season, hoping by his perseverance to weary
out the obstinacy of the besieged. But he found that he was merely
sacrificing the lives of his soldiers; and at last, the approach of the
imperial general, Piccolomini, compelled him, with his weakened army, to
retire. He considered it, however, as equivalent to a victory, to have
disturbed the repose of the enemy in their winter quarters, who, by the
severity of the weather, sustained a loss of 3000 horses. He now made a
movement towards the Oder, as if with the view of reinforcing himself
with the garrisons of Pomerania and Silesia; but, with the rapidity of
lightning, he again appeared upon the Bohemian frontier, penetrated
through that kingdom, and relieved Olmutz in Moravia, which was hard
pressed by the Imperialists. His camp at Dobitschau, two miles from
Olmutz, commanded the whole of Moravia, on which he levied heavy
contributions, and carried his ravages almost to the gates of Vienna.
In vain did the Emperor attempt to arm the Hungarian nobility in defence
of this province; they appealed to their privileges, and refused to
serve beyond the limits of their own country. Thus, the time that
should have been spent in active resistance, was lost in fruitless
negociation, and the entire province was abandoned to the ravages of the
Swedes.

While Torstensohn, by his marches and his victories, astonished friend
and foe, the armies of the allies had not been inactive in other parts
of the empire. The troops of Hesse, under Count Eberstein, and those of
Weimar, under Mareschal de Guebriant, had fallen into the Electorate of
Cologne, in order to take up their winter quarters there. To get rid of
these troublesome guests, the Elector called to his assistance the
imperial general Hatzfeldt, and assembled his own troops under General
Lamboy. The latter was attacked by the allies in January, 1642, and in
a decisive action near Kempen, defeated, with the loss of about 2000 men
killed, and about twice as many prisoners. This important victory
opened to them the whole Electorate and neighbouring territories, so
that the allies were not only enabled to maintain their winter quarters
there, but drew from the country large supplies of men and horses.

Guebriant left the Hessians to defend their conquests on the Lower Rhine
against Hatzfeldt, and advanced towards Thuringia, as if to second the
operations of Torstensohn in Saxony. But instead of joining the Swedes,
he soon hurried back to the Rhine and the Maine, from which he seemed to
think he had removed farther than was expedient. But being anticipated
in the Margraviate of Baden, by the Bavarians under Mercy and John de
Werth, he was obliged to wander about for several weeks, exposed,
without shelter, to the inclemency of the winter, and generally
encamping upon the snow, till he found a miserable refuge in Breisgau.
He at last took the field; and, in the next summer, by keeping the
Bavarian army employed in Suabia, prevented it from relieving
Thionville, which was besieged by Conde. But the superiority of the
enemy soon drove him back to Alsace, where he awaited a reinforcement.

The death of Cardinal Richelieu took place in November, 1642, and the
subsequent change in the throne and in the ministry, occasioned by the
death of Louis XIII., had for some time withdrawn the attention of
France from the German war, and was the cause of the inaction of its
troops in the field. But Mazarin, the inheritor, not only of
Richelieu's power, but also of his principles and his projects, followed
out with renewed zeal the plans of his predecessor, though the French
subject was destined to pay dearly enough for the political greatness of
his country. The main strength of its armies, which Richelieu had
employed against the Spaniards, was by Mazarin directed against the
Emperor; and the anxiety with which he carried on the war in Germany,
proved the sincerity of his opinion, that the German army was the right
arm of his king, and a wall of safety around France. Immediately upon
the surrender of Thionville, he sent a considerable reinforcement to
Field-Marshal Guebriant in Alsace; and to encourage the troops to bear
the fatigues of the German war, the celebrated victor of Rocroi, the
Duke of Enghien, afterwards Prince of Conde, was placed at their head.
Guebriant now felt himself strong enough to appear again in Germany with
repute. He hastened across the Rhine with the view of procuring better
winter quarters in Suabia, and actually made himself master of Rothweil,
where a Bavarian magazine fell into his hands. But the place was too
dearly purchased for its worth, and was again lost even more speedily
than it had been taken. Guebriant received a wound in the arm, which
the surgeon's unskilfulness rendered mortal, and the extent of his loss
was felt on the very day of his death.

The French army, sensibly weakened by an expedition undertaken at so
severe a season of the year, had, after the taking of Rothweil,
withdrawn into the neighbourhood of Duttlingen, where it lay in complete
security, without expectation of a hostile attack. In the mean time,
the enemy collected a considerable force, with a view to prevent the
French from establishing themselves beyond the Rhine and so near to
Bavaria, and to protect that quarter from their ravages. The
Imperialists, under Hatzfeldt, had formed a junction with the Bavarians
under Mercy; and the Duke of Lorraine, who, during the whole course of
the war, was generally found everywhere except in his own duchy, joined
their united forces. It was resolved to force the quarters of the
French in Duttlingen, and the neighbouring villages, by surprise; a
favourite mode of proceeding in this war, and which, being commonly
accompanied by confusion, occasioned more bloodshed than a regular
battle. On the present occasion, there was the more to justify it, as
the French soldiers, unaccustomed to such enterprises, conceived
themselves protected by the severity of the winter against any surprise.
John de Werth, a master in this species of warfare, which he had often
put in practice against Gustavus Horn, conducted the enterprise, and
succeeded, contrary to all expectation.

The attack was made on a side where it was least looked for, on account
of the woods and narrow passes, and a heavy snow storm which fell upon
the same day, (the 24th November, 1643,) concealed the approach of the
vanguard till it halted before Duttlingen. The whole of the artillery
without the place, as well as the neighbouring Castle of Honberg, were
taken without resistance, Duttlingen itself was gradually surrounded by
the enemy, and all connexion with the other quarters in the adjacent
villages silently and suddenly cut off. The French were vanquished
without firing a cannon. The cavalry owed their escape to the swiftness
of their horses, and the few minutes in advance, which they had gained
upon their pursuers. The infantry were cut to pieces, or voluntarily
laid down their arms. About 2,000 men were killed, and 7,000, with 25
staff-officers and 90 captains, taken prisoners. This was, perhaps, the
only battle, in the whole course of the war, which produced nearly the
same effect upon the party which gained, and that which lost;--both
these parties were Germans; the French disgraced themselves. The memory
of this unfortunate day, which was renewed 100 years after at Rosbach,
was indeed erased by the subsequent heroism of a Turenne and Conde; but
the Germans may be pardoned, if they indemnified themselves for the
miseries which the policy of France had heaped upon them, by these
severe reflections upon her intrepidity.

Meantime, this defeat of the French was calculated to prove highly
disastrous to Sweden, as the whole power of the Emperor might now act
against them, while the number of their enemies was increased by a
formidable accession. Torstensohn had, in September, 1643, suddenly
left Moravia, and moved into Silesia. The cause of this step was a
secret, and the frequent changes which took place in the direction of
his march, contributed to increase this perplexity. From Silesia, after
numberless circuits, he advanced towards the Elbe, while the
Imperialists followed him into Lusatia. Throwing a bridge across the
Elbe at Torgau, he gave out that he intended to penetrate through
Meissen into the Upper Palatinate in Bavaria; at Barby he also made a
movement, as if to pass that river, but continued to move down the Elbe
as far as Havelburg, where he astonished his troops by informing them
that he was leading them against the Danes in Holstein.

The partiality which Christian IV. had displayed against the Swedes in
his office of mediator, the jealousy which led him to do all in his
power to hinder the progress of their arms, the restraints which he laid
upon their navigation of the Sound, and the burdens which he imposed
upon their commerce, had long roused the indignation of Sweden; and, at
last, when these grievances increased daily, had determined the Regency
to measures of retaliation. Dangerous as it seemed, to involve the
nation in a new war, when, even amidst its conquests, it was almost
exhausted by the old, the desire of revenge, and the deep-rooted hatred
which subsisted between Danes and Swedes, prevailed over all other
considerations; and even the embarrassment in which hostilities with
Germany had plunged it, only served as an additional motive to try its
fortune against Denmark.

Matters were, in fact, arrived at last to that extremity, that the war
was prosecuted merely for the purpose of furnishing food and employment
to the troops; that good winter quarters formed the chief subject of
contention; and that success, in this point, was more valued than a
decisive victory. But now the provinces of Germany were almost all
exhausted and laid waste. They were wholly destitute of provisions,
horses, and men, which in Holstein were to be found in profusion. If by
this movement, Torstensohn should succeed merely in recruiting his army,
providing subsistence for his horses and soldiers, and remounting his
cavalry, all the danger and difficulty would be well repaid. Besides,
it was highly important, on the eve of negotiations for peace, to
diminish the injurious influence which Denmark might exercise upon these
deliberations, to delay the treaty itself, which threatened to be
prejudicial to the Swedish interests, by sowing confusion among the
parties interested, and with a view to the amount of indemnification, to
increase the number of her conquests, in order to be the more sure of
securing those which alone she was anxious to retain. Moreover, the
present state of Denmark justified even greater hopes, if only the
attempt were executed with rapidity and silence. The secret was in fact
so well kept in Stockholm, that the Danish minister had not the
slightest suspicion of it; and neither France nor Holland were let into
the scheme. Actual hostilities commenced with the declaration of war;
and Torstensohn was in Holstein, before even an attack was expected.
The Swedish troops, meeting with no resistance, quickly overran this
duchy, and made themselves masters of all its strong places, except
Rensburg and Gluckstadt. Another army penetrated into Schonen, which
made as little opposition; and nothing but the severity of the season
prevented the enemy from passing the Lesser Baltic, and carrying the war
into Funen and Zealand. The Danish fleet was unsuccessful at Femern;
and Christian himself, who was on board, lost his right eye by a
splinter. Cut off from all communication with the distant force of the
Emperor, his ally, this king was on the point of seeing his whole
kingdom overrun by the Swedes; and all things threatened the speedy
fulfilment of the old prophecy of the famous Tycho Brahe, that in the
year 1644, Christian IV. should wander in the greatest misery from his
dominions.

But the Emperor could not look on with indifference, while Denmark was
sacrificed to Sweden, and the latter strengthened by so great an
acquisition. Notwithstanding great difficulties lay in the way of so
long a march through desolated provinces, he did not hesitate to
despatch an army into Holstein under Count Gallas, who, after
Piccolomini's retirement, had resumed the supreme command of the troops.
Gallas accordingly appeared in the duchy, took Keil, and hoped, by
forming a junction with the Danes, to be able to shut up the Swedish
army in Jutland. Meantime, the Hessians, and the Swedish General
Koenigsmark, were kept in check by Hatzfeldt, and the Archbishop of
Bremen, the son of Christian IV.; and afterwards the Swedes drawn into
Saxony by an attack upon Meissen. But Torstensohn, with his augmented
army, penetrated through the unoccupied pass betwixt Schleswig and
Stapelholm, met Gallas, and drove him along the whole course of the
Elbe, as far as Bernburg, where the Imperialists took up an entrenched
position. Torstensohn passed the Saal, and by posting himself in the
rear of the enemy, cut off their communication with Saxony and Bohemia.
Scarcity and famine began now to destroy them in great numbers, and
forced them to retreat to Magdeburg, where, however, they were not much
better off. The cavalry, which endeavoured to escape into Silesia, was
overtaken and routed by Torstensohn, near Juterbock; the rest of the
army, after a vain attempt to fight its way through the Swedish lines,
was almost wholly destroyed near Magdeburg. From this expedition,
Gallas brought back only a few thousand men of all his formidable force,
and the reputation of being a consummate master in the art of ruining an
army. The King of Denmark, after this unsuccessful effort to relieve
him, sued for peace, which he obtained at Bremsebor in the year 1645,
under very unfavourable conditions.

Torstensohn rapidly followed up his victory; and while Axel Lilienstern,
one of the generals who commanded under him, overawed Saxony, and
Koenigsmark subdued the whole of Bremen, he himself penetrated into
Bohemia with 16,000 men and 80 pieces of artillery, and endeavoured a
second time to remove the seat of war into the hereditary dominions of
Austria. Ferdinand, upon this intelligence, hastened in person to
Prague, in order to animate the courage of the people by his presence;
and as a skilful general was much required, and so little unanimity
prevailed among the numerous leaders, he hoped in the immediate
neighbourhood of the war to be able to give more energy and activity.
In obedience to his orders, Hatzfeldt assembled the whole Austrian and
Bavarian force, and contrary to his own inclination and advice, formed
the Emperor's last army, and the last bulwark of his states, in order of
battle, to meet the enemy, who were approaching, at Jankowitz, on the
24th of February, 1645. Ferdinand depended upon his cavalry, which
outnumbered that of the enemy by 3000, and upon the promise of the
Virgin Mary, who had appeared to him in a dream, and given him the
strongest assurances of a complete victory.

The superiority of the Imperialists did not intimidate Torstensohn, who
was not accustomed to number his antagonists. On the very first onset,
the left wing, which Goetz, the general of the League, had entangled in
a disadvantageous position among marshes and thickets, was totally
routed; the general, with the greater part of his men, killed, and
almost the whole ammunition of the army taken. This unfortunate
commencement decided the fate of the day. The Swedes, constantly
advancing, successively carried all the most commanding heights. After
a bloody engagement of eight hours, a desperate attack on the part of
the Imperial cavalry, and a vigorous resistance by the Swedish infantry,
the latter remained in possession of the field. 2,000 Austrians were
killed upon the spot, and Hatzfeldt himself, with 3,000 men, taken
prisoners. Thus, on the same day, did the Emperor lose his best general
and his last army.

This decisive victory at Jancowitz, at once exposed all the Austrian
territory to the enemy. Ferdinand hastily fled to Vienna, to provide
for its defence, and to save his family and his treasures. In a very
short time, the victorious Swedes poured, like an inundation, upon
Moravia and Austria. After they had subdued nearly the whole of
Moravia, invested Brunn, and taken all the strongholds as far as the
Danube, and carried the intrenchments at the Wolf's Bridge, near Vienna,
they at last appeared in sight of that capital, while the care which
they had taken to fortify their conquests, showed that their visit was
not likely to be a short one. After a long and destructive circuit
through every province of Germany, the stream of war had at last rolled
backwards to its source, and the roar of the Swedish artillery now
reminded the terrified inhabitants of those balls which, twenty-seven
years before, the Bohemian rebels had fired into Vienna. The same
theatre of war brought again similar actors on the scene. Torstensohn
invited Ragotsky, the successor of Bethlen Gabor, to his assistance, as
the Bohemian rebels had solicited that of his predecessor; Upper Hungary
was already inundated by his troops, and his union with the Swedes was
daily apprehended. The Elector of Saxony, driven to despair by the
Swedes taking up their quarters within his territories, and abandoned by
the Emperor, who, after the defeat at Jankowitz, was unable to defend
himself, at length adopted the last and only expedient which remained,
and concluded a truce with Sweden, which was renewed from year to year,
till the general peace. The Emperor thus lost a friend, while a new
enemy was appearing at his very gates, his armies dispersed, and his
allies in other quarters of Germany defeated. The French army had
effaced the disgrace of their defeat at Deutlingen by a brilliant
campaign, and had kept the whole force of Bavaria employed upon the
Rhine and in Suabia. Reinforced with fresh troops from France, which
the great Turenne, already distinguished by his victories in Italy,
brought to the assistance of the Duke of Enghien, they appeared on the
3rd of August, 1644, before Friburg, which Mercy had lately taken, and
now covered, with his whole army strongly intrenched. But against the
steady firmness of the Bavarians, all the impetuous valour of the French
was exerted in vain, and after a fruitless sacrifice of 6,000 men, the
Duke of Enghien was compelled to retreat. Mazarin shed tears over this
great loss, which Conde, who had no feeling for anything but glory,
disregarded. "A single night in Paris," said he, "gives birth to more
men than this action has destroyed." The Bavarians, however, were so
disabled by this murderous battle, that, far from being in a condition
to relieve Austria from the menaced dangers, they were too weak even to
defend the banks of the Rhine. Spires, Worms, and Manheim capitulated;
the strong fortress of Philipsburg was forced to surrender by famine;
and, by a timely submission, Mentz hastened to disarm the conquerors.

Austria and Moravia, however, were now freed from Torstensohn, by a
similar means of deliverance, as in the beginning of the war had saved
them from the Bohemians. Ragotzky, at the head of 25,000 men, had
advanced into the neighbourhood of the Swedish quarters upon the Danube.
But these wild undisciplined hordes, instead of seconding the operations
of Torstensohn by any vigorous enterprise, only ravaged the country, and
increased the distress which, even before their arrival, had begun to be
felt in the Swedish camp. To extort tribute from the Emperor, and money
and plunder from his subjects, was the sole object that had allured
Ragotzky, or his predecessor, Bethlen Gabor, into the field; and both
departed as soon as they had gained their end. To get rid of him,
Ferdinand granted the barbarian whatever he asked, and, by a small
sacrifice, freed his states of this formidable enemy.

In the mean time, the main body of the Swedes had been greatly weakened
by a tedious encampment before Brunn. Torstensohn, who commanded in
person, for four entire months employed in vain all his knowledge of
military tactics; the obstinacy of the resistance was equal to that of
the assault; while despair roused the courage of Souches, the
commandant, a Swedish deserter, who had no hope of pardon. The ravages
caused by pestilence, arising from famine, want of cleanliness, and the
use of unripe fruit, during their tedious and unhealthy encampment, with
the sudden retreat of the Prince of Transylvania, at last compelled the
Swedish leader to raise the siege. As all the passes upon the Danube
were occupied, and his army greatly weakened by famine and sickness, he
at last relinquished his intended plan of operations against Austria and
Moravia, and contented himself with securing a key to these provinces,
by leaving behind him Swedish garrisons in the conquered fortresses. He
then directed his march into Bohemia, whither he was followed by the
Imperialists, under the Archduke Leopold. Such of the lost places as
had not been retaken by the latter, were recovered, after his departure,
by the Austrian General Bucheim; so that, in the course of the following
year, the Austrian frontier was again cleared of the enemy, and Vienna
escaped with mere alarm. In Bohemia and Silesia too, the Swedes
maintained themselves only with a very variable fortune; they traversed
both countries, without being able to hold their ground in either. But
if the designs of Torstensohn were not crowned with all the success
which they were promised at the commencement, they were, nevertheless,
productive of the most important consequences to the Swedish party.
Denmark had been compelled to a peace, Saxony to a truce. The Emperor,
in the deliberations for a peace, offered greater concessions; France
became more manageable; and Sweden itself bolder and more confident in
its bearing towards these two crowns. Having thus nobly performed his
duty, the author of these advantages retired, adorned with laurels, into
the tranquillity of private life, and endeavoured to restore his
shattered health.

By the retreat of Torstensohn, the Emperor was relieved from all fears
of an irruption on the side of Bohemia. But a new danger soon
threatened the Austrian frontier from Suabia and Bavaria. Turenne, who
had separated from Conde, and taken the direction of Suabia, had, in the
year 1645, been totally defeated by Mercy, near Mergentheim; and the
victorious Bavarians, under their brave leader, poured into Hesse. But
the Duke of Enghien hastened with considerable succours from Alsace,
Koenigsmark from Moravia, and the Hessians from the Rhine, to recruit
the defeated army, and the Bavarians were in turn compelled to retire to
the extreme limits of Suabia. Here they posted themselves at the
village of Allersheim, near Nordlingen, in order to cover the Bavarian
frontier. But no obstacle could check the impetuosity of the Duke of
Enghien. In person, he led on his troops against the enemy's
entrenchments, and a battle took place, which the heroic resistance of
the Bavarians rendered most obstinate and bloody; till at last the death
of the great Mercy, the skill of Turenne, and the iron firmness of the
Hessians, decided the day in favour of the allies. But even this second
barbarous sacrifice of life had little effect either on the course of
the war, or on the negociations for peace. The French army, exhausted
by this bloody engagement, was still farther weakened by the departure
of the Hessians, and the Bavarians being reinforced by the Archduke
Leopold, Turenne was again obliged hastily to recross the Rhine.

The retreat of the French, enabled the enemy to turn his whole force
upon the Swedes in Bohemia. Gustavus Wrangel, no unworthy successor of
Banner and Torstensohn, had, in 1646, been appointed Commander-in-chief
of the Swedish army, which, besides Koenigsmark's flying corps and the
numerous garrisons disposed throughout the empire, amounted to about
8,000 horse, and 15,000 foot. The Archduke, after reinforcing his army,
which already amounted to 24,000 men, with twelve Bavarian regiments of
cavalry, and eighteen regiments of infantry, moved against Wrangel, in
the hope of being able to overwhelm him by his superior force before
Koenigsmark could join him, or the French effect a diversion in his
favour. Wrangel, however, did not await him, but hastened through Upper
Saxony to the Weser, where he took Hoester and Paderborn. From thence
he marched into Hesse, in order to join Turenne, and at his camp at
Wetzlar, was joined by the flying corps of Koenigsmark. But Turenne,
fettered by the instructions of Mazarin, who had seen with jealousy the
warlike prowess and increasing power of the Swedes, excused himself on
the plea of a pressing necessity to defend the frontier of France on the
side of the Netherlands, in consequence of the Flemings having failed to
make the promised diversion. But as Wrangel continued to press his just
demand, and a longer opposition might have excited distrust on the part
of the Swedes, or induce them to conclude a private treaty with Austria,
Turenne at last obtained the wished for permission to join the Swedish
army.

The junction took place at Giessen, and they now felt themselves strong
enough to meet the enemy. The latter had followed the Swedes into
Hesse, in order to intercept their commissariat, and to prevent their
union with Turenne. In both designs they had been unsuccessful; and the
Imperialists now saw themselves cut off from the Maine, and exposed to
great scarcity and want from the loss of their magazines. Wrangel took
advantage of their weakness, to execute a plan by which he hoped to give
a new turn to the war. He, too, had adopted the maxim of his
predecessor, to carry the war into the Austrian States. But discouraged
by the ill success of Torstensohn's enterprise, he hoped to gain his end
with more certainty by another way. He determined to follow the course
of the Danube, and to break into the Austrian territories through the
midst of Bavaria. A similar design had been formerly conceived by
Gustavus Adolphus, which he had been prevented carrying into effect by
the approach of Wallenstein's army, and the danger of Saxony. Duke
Bernard moving in his footsteps, and more fortunate than Gustavus, had
spread his victorious banners between the Iser and the Inn; but the near
approach of the enemy, vastly superior in force, obliged him to halt in
his victorious career, and lead back his troops. Wrangel now hoped to
accomplish the object in which his predecessors had failed, the more so,
as the Imperial and Bavarian army was far in his rear upon the Lahn, and
could only reach Bavaria by a long march through Franconia and the Upper
Palatinate. He moved hastily upon the Danube, defeated a Bavarian corps
near Donauwerth, and passed that river, as well as the Lech, unopposed.
But by wasting his time in the unsuccessful siege of Augsburg, he gave
opportunity to the Imperialists, not only to relieve that city, but also
to repulse him as far as Lauingen. No sooner, however, had they turned
towards Suabia, with a view to remove the war from Bavaria, than,
seizing the opportunity, he repassed the Lech, and guarded the passage
of it against the Imperialists themselves. Bavaria now lay open and
defenceless before him; the French and Swedes quickly overran it; and
the soldiery indemnified themselves for all dangers by frightful
outrages, robberies, and extortions. The arrival of the Imperial
troops, who at last succeeded in passing the Lech at Thierhaupten, only
increased the misery of this country, which friend and foe
indiscriminately plundered.

And now, for the first time during the whole course of this war, the
courage of Maximilian, which for eight-and-twenty years had stood
unshaken amidst fearful dangers, began to waver. Ferdinand II., his
school-companion at Ingoldstadt, and the friend of his youth, was no
more; and with the death of his friend and benefactor, the strong tie
was dissolved which had linked the Elector to the House of Austria. To
the father, habit, inclination, and gratitude had attached him; the son
was a stranger to his heart, and political interests alone could
preserve his fidelity to the latter prince.

Accordingly, the motives which the artifices of France now put in
operation, in order to detach him from the Austrian alliance, and to
induce him to lay down his arms, were drawn entirely from political
considerations. It was not without a selfish object that Mazarin had so
far overcome his jealousy of the growing power of the Swedes, as to
allow the French to accompany them into Bavaria. His intention was to
expose Bavaria to all the horrors of war, in the hope that the
persevering fortitude of Maximilian might be subdued by necessity and
despair, and the Emperor deprived of his first and last ally.
Brandenburg had, under its great sovereign, embraced the neutrality;
Saxony had been forced to accede to it; the war with France prevented
the Spaniards from taking any part in that of Germany; the peace with
Sweden had removed Denmark from the theatre of war; and Poland had been
disarmed by a long truce. If they could succeed in detaching the
Elector of Bavaria also from the Austrian alliance, the Emperor would be
without a friend in Germany and left to the mercy of the allied powers.

Ferdinand III. saw his danger, and left no means untried to avert it.
But the Elector of Bavaria was unfortunately led to believe that the
Spaniards alone were disinclined to peace, and that nothing, but Spanish
influence, had induced the Emperor so long to resist a cessation of
hostilities. Maximilian detested the Spaniards, and could never forgive
their having opposed his application for the Palatine Electorate. Could
it then be supposed that, in order to gratify this hated power, he would
see his people sacrificed, his country laid waste, and himself ruined,
when, by a cessation of hostilities, he could at once emancipate himself
from all these distresses, procure for his people the repose of which
they stood so much in need, and perhaps accelerate the arrival of a
general peace? All doubts disappeared; and, convinced of the necessity
of this step, he thought he should sufficiently discharge his
obligations to the Emperor, if he invited him also to share in the
benefit of the truce.

The deputies of the three crowns, and of Bavaria, met at Ulm, to adjust
the conditions. But it was soon evident, from the instructions of the
Austrian ambassadors that it was not the intention of the Emperor to
second the conclusion of a truce, but if possible to prevent it. It was
obviously necessary to make the terms acceptable to the Swedes, who had
the advantage, and had more to hope than to fear from the continuance of
the war. They were the conquerors; and yet the Emperor presumed to
dictate to them. In the first transports of their indignation, the
Swedish ambassadors were on the point of leaving the congress, and the
French were obliged to have recourse to threats in order to detain them.

The good intentions of the Elector of Bavaria, to include the Emperor in
the benefit of the truce, having been thus rendered unavailing, he felt
himself justified in providing for his own safety. However hard were
the conditions on which the truce was to be purchased, he did not
hesitate to accept it on any terms. He agreed to the Swedes extending
their quarters in Suabia and Franconia, and to his own being restricted
to Bavaria and the Palatinate. The conquests which he had made in
Suabia were ceded to the allies, who, on their part, restored to him
what they had taken from Bavaria. Cologne and Hesse Cassel were also
included in the truce. After the conclusion of this treaty, upon the
14th March, 1647, the French and Swedes left Bavaria, and in order not
to interfere with each other, took up different quarters; the former in
Wuertemberg, the latter in Upper Suabia, in the neighbourhood of the
Lake of Constance. On the extreme north of this lake, and on the most
southern frontier of Suabia, the Austrian town of Bregentz, by its steep
and narrow passes, seemed to defy attack; and in this persuasion, the
whole peasantry of the surrounding villages had with their property
taken refuge in this natural fortress. The rich booty, which the store
of provisions it contained, gave reason to expect, and the advantage of
possessing a pass into the Tyrol, Switzerland and Italy, induced the
Swedish general to venture an attack upon this supposed impregnable post
and town, in which he succeeded. Meantime, Turenne, according to
agreement, marched into Wuertemberg, where he forced the Landgrave of
Darmstadt and the Elector of Mentz to imitate the example of Bavaria,
and to embrace the neutrality.

And now, at last, France seemed to have attained the great object of its
policy, that of depriving the Emperor of the support of the League, and
of his Protestant allies, and of dictating to him, sword in hand, the
conditions of peace. Of all his once formidable power, an army, not
exceeding 12,000, was all that remained to him; and this force he was
driven to the necessity of entrusting to the command of a Calvinist, the
Hessian deserter Melander, as the casualties of war had stripped him of
his best generals. But as this war had been remarkable for the sudden
changes of fortune it displayed; and as every calculation of state
policy had been frequently baffled by some unforeseen event, in this
case also the issue disappointed expectation; and after a brief crisis,
the fallen power of Austria rose again to a formidable strength. The
jealousy which France entertained of Sweden, prevented it from
permitting the total ruin of the Emperor, or allowing the Swedes to
obtain such a preponderance in Germany, as might have been destructive
to France herself. Accordingly, the French minister declined to take
advantage of the distresses of Austria; and the army of Turenne,
separating from that of Wrangel, retired to the frontiers of the
Netherlands. Wrangel, indeed, after moving from Suabia into Franconia,
taking Schweinfurt, and incorporating the imperial garrison of that
place with his own army, attempted to make his way into Bohemia, and
laid siege to Egra, the key of that kingdom. To relieve this fortress,
the Emperor put his last army in motion, and placed himself at its head.
But obliged to take a long circuit, in order to spare the lands of Von
Schlick, the president of the council of war, he protracted his march;
and on his arrival, Egra was already taken. Both armies were now in
sight of each other; and a decisive battle was momentarily expected, as
both were suffering from want, and the two camps were only separated
from each other by the space of the entrenchments. But the
Imperialists, although superior in numbers, contented themselves with
keeping close to the enemy, and harassing them by skirmishes, by
fatiguing marches and famine, until the negociations which had been
opened with Bavaria were brought to a bearing.

The neutrality of Bavaria, was a wound under which the Imperial court
writhed impatiently; and after in vain attempting to prevent it, Austria
now determined, if possible, to turn it to advantage. Several officers
of the Bavarian army had been offended by this step of their master,
which at once reduced them to inaction, and imposed a burdensome
restraint on their restless disposition. Even the brave John de Werth
was at the head of the malcontents, and encouraged by the Emperor, he
formed a plot to seduce the whole army from their allegiance to the
Elector, and lead it over to the Emperor. Ferdinand did not blush to
patronize this act of treachery against his father's most trusty ally.
He formally issued a proclamation to the Bavarian troops, in which he
recalled them to himself, reminded them that they were the troops of the
empire, which the Elector had merely commanded in name of the Emperor.
Fortunately for Maximilian, he detected the conspiracy in time enough to
anticipate and prevent it by the most rapid and effective measures.

This disgraceful conduct of the Emperor might have justified a reprisal,
but Maximilian was too old a statesman to listen to the voice of
passion, where policy alone ought to be heard. He had not derived from
the truce the advantages he expected. Far from tending to accelerate a
general peace, it had a pernicious influence upon the negociations at
Munster and Osnaburg, and had made the allies bolder in their demands.
The French and Swedes had indeed removed from Bavaria; but, by the loss
of his quarters in the Suabian circle, he found himself compelled either
to exhaust his own territories by the subsistence of his troops, or at
once to disband them, and to throw aside the shield and spear, at the
very moment when the sword alone seemed to be the arbiter of right.
Before embracing either of these certain evils, he determined to try a
third step, the unfavourable issue of which was at least not so certain,
viz., to renounce the truce and resume the war.

This resolution, and the assistance which he immediately despatched to
the Emperor in Bohemia, threatened materially to injure the Swedes, and
Wrangel was compelled in haste to evacuate that kingdom. He retired
through Thuringia into Westphalia and Lunenburg, in the hope of forming
a junction with the French army under Turenne, while the Imperial and
Bavarian army followed him to the Weser, under Melander and Gronsfeld.
His ruin was inevitable, if the enemy should overtake him before his
junction with Turenne; but the same consideration which had just saved
the Emperor, now proved the salvation of the Swedes. Even amidst all
the fury of the conquest, cold calculations of prudence guided the
course of the war, and the vigilance of the different courts increased,
as the prospect of peace approached. The Elector of Bavaria could not
allow the Emperor to obtain so decisive a preponderance as, by the
sudden alteration of affairs, might delay the chances of a general
peace. Every change of fortune was important now, when a pacification
was so ardently desired by all, and when the disturbance of the balance
of power among the contracting parties might at once annihilate the work
of years, destroy the fruit of long and tedious negociations, and
indefinitely protract the repose of Europe. If France sought to
restrain the Swedish crown within due bounds, and measured out her
assistance according to her successes and defeats, the Elector of
Bavaria silently undertook the same task with the Emperor his ally, and
determined, by prudently dealing out his aid, to hold the fate of
Austria in his own hands. And now that the power of the Emperor
threatened once more to attain a dangerous superiority, Maximilian at
once ceased to pursue the Swedes. He was also afraid of reprisals from
France, who had threatened to direct Turenne's whole force against him
if he allowed his troops to cross the Weser.

Melander, prevented by the Bavarians from further pursuing Wrangel,
crossed by Jena and Erfurt into Hesse, and now appeared as a dangerous
enemy in the country which he had formerly defended. If it was the
desire of revenge upon his former sovereign, which led him to choose
Hesse for the scene of his ravage, he certainly had his full
gratification. Under this scourge, the miseries of that unfortunate
state reached their height. But he had soon reason to regret that, in
the choice of his quarters, he had listened to the dictates of revenge
rather than of prudence. In this exhausted country, his army was
oppressed by want, while Wrangel was recruiting his strength, and
remounting his cavalry in Lunenburg. Too weak to maintain his wretched
quarters against the Swedish general, when he opened the campaign in the
winter of 1648, and marched against Hesse, he was obliged to retire with
disgrace, and take refuge on the banks of the Danube.

France had once more disappointed the expectations of Sweden; and the
army of Turenne, disregarding the remonstrances of Wrangel, had remained
upon the Rhine. The Swedish leader revenged himself, by drawing into
his service the cavalry of Weimar, which had abandoned the standard of
France, though, by this step, he farther increased the jealousy of that
power. Turenne received permission to join the Swedes; and the last
campaign of this eventful war was now opened by the united armies.
Driving Melander before them along the Danube, they threw supplies into
Egra, which was besieged by the Imperialists, and defeated the Imperial
and Bavarian armies on the Danube, which ventured to oppose them at
Susmarshausen, where Melander was mortally wounded. After this
overthrow, the Bavarian general, Gronsfeld, placed himself on the
farther side of the Lech, in order to guard Bavaria from the enemy.