No More Learning

The two
greatest generals of the time, both hitherto invincible, were now to be
matched against each other in a contest which both had long avoided; and
on this field of battle the hitherto untarnished laurels of one leader
must droop for ever. The two parties in Germany had beheld the approach
of this day with fear and trembling; and the whole age awaited with deep
anxiety its issue, and posterity was either to bless or deplore it for
ever.

Tilly’s usual intrepidity and resolution seemed to forsake him on this
eventful day. He had formed no regular plan for giving battle to the
King, and he displayed as little firmness in avoiding it. Contrary to
his own judgment, Pappenheim had forced him to action. Doubts which he
had never before felt, struggled in his bosom; gloomy forebodings
clouded his ever-open brow; the shade of Magdeburg seemed to hover over
him.

A cannonade of two hours commenced the battle; the wind, which was from
the west, blew thick clouds of smoke and dust from the newly-ploughed
and parched fields into the faces of the Swedes. This compelled the
king insensibly to wheel northwards, and the rapidity with which this
movement was executed left no time to the enemy to prevent it.

Tilly at last left his heights, and began the first attack upon the
Swedes; but to avoid their hot fire, he filed off towards the right, and
fell upon the Saxons with such impetuosity that their line was broken,
and the whole army thrown into confusion. The Elector himself retired
to Eilenburg, though a few regiments still maintained their ground upon
the field, and by a bold stand saved the honour of Saxony. Scarcely had
the confusion began ere the Croats commenced plundering, and messengers
were despatched to Munich and Vienna with the news of the victory.

Pappenheim had thrown himself with the whole force of his cavalry upon
the right wing of the Swedes, but without being able to make it waver.
The king commanded here in person, and under him General Banner. Seven
times did Pappenheim renew the attack, and seven times was he repulsed.
He fled at last with great loss, and abandoned the field to his
conqueror.

In the mean time, Tilly, having routed the remainder of the Saxons,
attacked with his victorious troops the left wing of the Swedes. To
this wing the king, as soon as he perceived that the Saxons were thrown
into disorder, had, with a ready foresight, detached a reinforcement of
three regiments to cover its flank, which the flight of the Saxons had
left exposed. Gustavus Horn, who commanded here, showed the enemy’s
cuirassiers a spirited resistance, which the infantry, interspersed
among the squadrons of horse, materially assisted. The enemy were
already beginning to relax the vigour of their attack, when Gustavus
Adolphus appeared to terminate the contest. The left wing of the
Imperialists had been routed; and the king’s division, having no longer
any enemy to oppose, could now turn their arms wherever it would be to
the most advantage. Wheeling, therefore, with his right wing and main
body to the left, he attacked the heights on which the enemy’s artillery
was planted. Gaining possession of them in a short time, he turned upon
the enemy the full fire of their own cannon.

The play of artillery upon their flank, and the terrible onslaught of
the Swedes in front, threw this hitherto invincible army into confusion.
A sudden retreat was the only course left to Tilly, but even this was to
be made through the midst of the enemy. The whole army was in disorder,
with the exception of four regiments of veteran soldiers, who never as
yet had fled from the field, and were resolved not to do so now.
Closing their ranks, they broke through the thickest of the victorious
army, and gained a small thicket, where they opposed a new front to the
Swedes, and maintained their resistance till night, when their number
was reduced to six hundred men. With them fled the wreck of Tilly’s
army, and the battle was decided.

Amid the dead and the wounded, Gustavus Adolphus threw himself on his
knees; and the first joy of his victory gushed forth in fervent prayer.
He ordered his cavalry to pursue the enemy as long as the darkness of
the night would permit. The pealing of the alarm-bells set the
inhabitants of all the neighbouring villages in motion, and utterly lost
was the unhappy fugitive who fell into their hands. The king encamped
with the rest of his army between the field of battle and Leipzig, as it
was impossible to attack the town the same night. Seven thousand of the
enemy were killed in the field, and more than 5,000 either wounded or
taken prisoners. Their whole artillery and camp fell into the hands of
the Swedes, and more than a hundred standards and colours were taken.
Of the Saxons about 2,000 had fallen, while the loss of the Swedes did
not exceed 700. The rout of the Imperialists was so complete, that
Tilly, on his retreat to Halle and Halberstadt, could not rally above
600 men, or Pappenheim more than 1,400--so rapidly was this formidable
army dispersed, which so lately was the terror of Italy and Germany.

Tilly himself owed his escape merely to chance. Exhausted by his
wounds, he still refused to surrender to a Swedish captain of horse, who
summoned him to yield; but who, when he was on the point of putting him
to death, was himself stretched on the ground by a timely pistol-shot.
But more grievous than danger or wounds was the pain of surviving his
reputation, and of losing in a single day the fruits of a long life.
All former victories were as nothing, since he had failed in gaining the
one that should have crowned them all. Nothing remained of all his past
exploits, but the general execration which had followed them. From this
period, he never recovered his cheerfulness or his good fortune. Even
his last consolation, the hope of revenge, was denied to him, by the
express command of the Emperor not to risk a decisive battle.

The disgrace of this day is to be ascribed principally to three
mistakes; his planting the cannon on the hills behind him, his
afterwards abandoning these heights, and his allowing the enemy, without
opposition, to form in order of battle. But how easily might those
mistakes have been rectified, had it not been for the cool presence of
mind and superior genius of his adversary!

Tilly fled from Halle to Halberstadt, where he scarcely allowed time for
the cure of his wounds, before he hurried towards the Weser to recruit
his force by the imperial garrisons in Lower Saxony.

The Elector of Saxony had not failed, after the danger was over, to
appear in Gustavus’s camp. The king thanked him for having advised a
battle; and the Elector, charmed at his friendly reception, promised
him, in the first transports of joy, the Roman crown. Gustavus set out
next day for Merseburg, leaving the Elector to recover Leipzig. Five
thousand Imperialists, who had collected together after the defeat, and
whom he met on his march, were either cut in pieces or taken prisoners,
of whom again the greater part entered into his service. Merseburg
quickly surrendered; Halle was soon after taken, whither the Elector of
Saxony, after making himself master of Leipzig, repaired to meet the
king, and to concert their future plan of operations.

The victory was gained, but only a prudent use of it could render it
decisive. The imperial armies were totally routed, Saxony free from the
enemy, and Tilly had retired into Brunswick. To have followed him
thither would have been to renew the war in Lower Saxony, which had
scarcely recovered from the ravages of the last. It was therefore
determined to carry the war into the enemy’s country, which, open and
defenceless as far as Vienna, invited attack. On their right, they
might fall upon the territories of the Roman Catholic princes, or
penetrate, on the left, into the hereditary dominions of Austria, and
make the Emperor tremble in his palace. Both plans were resolved on;
and the question that now remained was to assign its respective parts.
Gustavus Adolphus, at the head of a victorious army, had little
resistance to apprehend in his progress from Leipzig to Prague, Vienna,
and Presburg. As to Bohemia, Moravia, Austria, and Hungary, they had
been stripped of their defenders, while the oppressed Protestants in
these countries were ripe for a revolt. Ferdinand was no longer secure
in his capital: Vienna, on the first terror of surprise, would at once
open its gates. The loss of his territories would deprive the enemy of
the resources by which alone the war could be maintained; and Ferdinand
would, in all probability, gladly accede, on the hardest conditions, to
a peace which would remove a formidable enemy from the heart of his
dominions. This bold plan of operations was flattering to a conqueror,
and success perhaps might have justified it. But Gustavus Adolphus, as
prudent as he was brave, and more a statesman than a conqueror, rejected
it, because he had a higher end in view, and would not trust the issue
either to bravery or good fortune alone.

By marching towards Bohemia, Franconia and the Upper Rhine would be left
to the Elector of Saxony. But Tilly had already begun to recruit his
shattered army from the garrisons in Lower Saxony, and was likely to be
at the head of a formidable force upon the Weser, and to lose no time in
marching against the enemy. To so experienced a general, it would not
do to oppose an Arnheim, of whose military skill the battle of Leipzig
had afforded but equivocal proof; and of what avail would be the rapid
and brilliant career of the king in Bohemia and Austria, if Tilly should
recover his superiority in the Empire, animating the courage of the
Roman Catholics, and disarming, by a new series of victories, the allies
and confederates of the king? What would he gain by expelling the
Emperor from his hereditary dominions, if Tilly succeeded in conquering
for that Emperor the rest of Germany? Could he hope to reduce the
Emperor more than had been done, twelve years before, by the
insurrection of Bohemia, which had failed to shake the firmness or
exhaust the resources of that prince, and from which he had risen more
formidable than ever?

Less brilliant, but more solid, were the advantages which he had to
expect from an incursion into the territories of the League. In this
quarter, his appearance in arms would be decisive. At this very
conjuncture, the princes were assembled in a Diet at Frankfort, to
deliberate upon the Edict of Restitution, where Ferdinand employed all
his artful policy to persuade the intimidated Protestants to accede to a
speedy and disadvantageous arrangement. The advance of their protector
could alone encourage them to a bold resistance, and disappoint the
Emperor’s designs. Gustavus Adolphus hoped, by his presence, to unite
the discontented princes, or by the terror of his arms to detach them
from the Emperor’s party. Here, in the centre of Germany, he could
paralyse the nerves of the imperial power, which, without the aid of the
League, must soon fall--here, in the neighbourhood of France, he could
watch the movements of a suspicious ally; and however important to his
secret views it was to cultivate the friendship of the Roman Catholic
electors, he saw the necessity of making himself first of all master of
their fate, in order to establish, by his magnanimous forbearance, a
claim to their gratitude.

He accordingly chose the route to Franconia and the Rhine; and left the
conquest of Bohemia to the Elector of Saxony.





BOOK III.



The glorious battle of Leipzig effected a great change in the conduct
of Gustavus Adolphus, as well as in the opinion which both friends and
foes entertained of him. Successfully had he confronted the greatest
general of the age, and had matched the strength of his tactics and the
courage of his Swedes against the elite of the imperial army, the most
experienced troops in Europe. From this moment he felt a firm
confidence in his own powers--self-confidence has always been the parent
of great actions. In all his subsequent operations more boldness and
decision are observable; greater determination, even amidst the most
unfavourable circumstances, a more lofty tone towards his adversaries, a
more dignified bearing towards his allies, and even in his clemency,
something of the forbearance of a conqueror. His natural courage was
farther heightened by the pious ardour of his imagination. He saw in
his own cause that of heaven, and in the defeat of Tilly beheld the
decisive interference of Providence against his enemies, and in himself
the instrument of divine vengeance. Leaving his crown and his country
far behind, he advanced on the wings of victory into the heart of
Germany, which for centuries had seen no foreign conqueror within its
bosom. The warlike spirit of its inhabitants, the vigilance of its
numerous princes, the artful confederation of its states, the number of
its strong castles, its many and broad rivers, had long restrained the
ambition of its neighbours; and frequently as its extensive frontier had
been attacked, its interior had been free from hostile invasion. The
Empire had hitherto enjoyed the equivocal privilege of being its own
enemy, though invincible from without. Even now, it was merely the
disunion of its members, and the intolerance of religious zeal, that
paved the way for the Swedish invader. The bond of union between the
states, which alone had rendered the Empire invincible, was now
dissolved; and Gustavus derived from Germany itself the power by which
he subdued it. With as much courage as prudence, he availed himself of
all that the favourable moment afforded; and equally at home in the
cabinet and the field, he tore asunder the web of the artful policy,
with as much ease, as he shattered walls with the thunder of his cannon.
Uninterruptedly he pursued his conquests from one end of Germany to the
other, without breaking the line of posts which commanded a secure
retreat at any moment; and whether on the banks of the Rhine, or at the
mouth of the Lech, alike maintaining his communication with his
hereditary dominions.

The consternation of the Emperor and the League at Tilly’s defeat at
Leipzig, was scarcely greater than the surprise and embarrassment of the
allies of the King of Sweden at his unexpected success. It was beyond
both their expectations and their wishes. Annihilated in a moment was
that formidable army which, while it checked his progress and set bounds
to his ambition, rendered him in some measure dependent on themselves.
He now stood in the heart of Germany, alone, without a rival or without
an adversary who was a match for him. Nothing could stop his progress,
or check his pretensions, if the intoxication of success should tempt
him to abuse his victory. If formerly they had dreaded the Emperor’s
irresistible power, there was no less cause now to fear every thing for
the Empire, from the violence of a foreign conqueror, and for the
Catholic Church, from the religious zeal of a Protestant king. The
distrust and jealousy of some of the combined powers, which a stronger
fear of the Emperor had for a time repressed, now revived; and scarcely
had Gustavus Adolphus merited, by his courage and success, their
confidence, when they began covertly to circumvent all his plans.
Through a continual struggle with the arts of enemies, and the distrust
of his own allies, must his victories henceforth be won; yet resolution,
penetration, and prudence made their way through all impediments. But
while his success excited the jealousy of his more powerful allies,
France and Saxony, it gave courage to the weaker, and emboldened them
openly to declare their sentiments and join his party. Those who could
neither vie with Gustavus Adolphus in importance, nor suffer from his
ambition, expected the more from the magnanimity of their powerful ally,
who enriched them with the spoils of their enemies, and protected them
against the oppression of their stronger neighbours. His strength
covered their weakness, and, inconsiderable in themselves, they acquired
weight and influence from their union with the Swedish hero. This was
the case with most of the free cities, and particularly with the weaker
Protestant states. It was these that introduced the king into the heart
of Germany; these covered his rear, supplied his troops with
necessaries, received them into their fortresses, while they exposed
their own lives in his battles. His prudent regard to their national
pride, his popular deportment, some brilliant acts of justice, and his
respect for the laws, were so many ties by which he bound the German
Protestants to his cause; while the crying atrocities of the
Imperialists, the Spaniards, and the troops of Lorraine, powerfully
contributed to set his own conduct and that of his army in a favourable
light.

If Gustavus Adolphus owed his success chiefly to his own genius, at the
same time, it must be owned, he was greatly favoured by fortune and by
circumstances. Two great advantages gave him a decided superiority over
the enemy. While he removed the scene of war into the lands of the
League, drew their youth as recruits, enriched himself with booty, and
used the revenues of their fugitive princes as his own, he at once took
from the enemy the means of effectual resistance, and maintained an
expensive war with little cost to himself. And, moreover, while his
opponents, the princes of the League, divided among themselves, and
governed by different and often conflicting interests, acted without
unanimity, and therefore without energy; while their generals were
deficient in authority, their troops in obedience, the operations of
their scattered armies without concert; while the general was separated
from the lawgiver and the statesman; these several functions were united
in Gustavus Adolphus, the only source from which authority flowed, the
sole object to which the eye of the warrior turned; the soul of his
party, the inventor as well as the executor of his plans. In him,
therefore, the Protestants had a centre of unity and harmony, which was
altogether wanting to their opponents. No wonder, then, if favoured by
such advantages, at the head of such an army, with such a genius to
direct it, and guided by such political prudence, Gustavus Adolphus was
irresistible.

With the sword in one hand, and mercy in the other, he traversed Germany
as a conqueror, a lawgiver, and a judge, in as short a time almost as
the tourist of pleasure. The keys of towns and fortresses were
delivered to him, as if to the native sovereign. No fortress was
inaccessible; no river checked his victorious career. He conquered by
the very terror of his name. The Swedish standards were planted along
the whole stream of the Maine: the Lower Palatinate was free, the
troops of Spain and Lorraine had fled across the Rhine and the Moselle.
The Swedes and Hessians poured like a torrent into the territories of
Mentz, of Wurtzburg, and Bamberg, and three fugitive bishops, at a
distance from their sees, suffered dearly for their unfortunate
attachment to the Emperor. It was now the turn for Maximilian, the
leader of the League, to feel in his own dominions the miseries he had
inflicted upon others. Neither the terrible fate of his allies, nor the
peaceful overtures of Gustavus, who, in the midst of conquest, ever held
out the hand of friendship, could conquer the obstinacy of this prince.
The torrent of war now poured into Bavaria. Like the banks of the
Rhine, those of the Lecke and the Donau were crowded with Swedish
troops. Creeping into his fortresses, the defeated Elector abandoned to
the ravages of the foe his dominions, hitherto unscathed by war, and on
which the bigoted violence of the Bavarians seemed to invite
retaliation. Munich itself opened its gates to the invincible monarch,
and the fugitive Palatine, Frederick V. , in the forsaken residence of
his rival, consoled himself for a time for the loss of his dominions.

While Gustavus Adolphus was extending his conquests in the south, his
generals and allies were gaining similar triumphs in the other
provinces. Lower Saxony shook off the yoke of Austria, the enemy
abandoned Mecklenburg, and the imperial garrisons retired from the banks
of the Weser and the Elbe. In Westphalia and the Upper Rhine, William,
Landgrave of Hesse, rendered himself formidable; the Duke of Weimar in
Thuringia, and the French in the Electorate of Treves; while to the
eastward the whole kingdom of Bohemia was conquered by the Saxons. The
Turks were preparing to attack Hungary, and in the heart of Austria a
dangerous insurrection was threatened. In vain did the Emperor look
around to the courts of Europe for support; in vain did he summon the
Spaniards to his assistance, for the bravery of the Flemings afforded
them ample employment beyond the Rhine; in vain did he call upon the
Roman court and the whole church to come to his rescue. The offended
Pope sported, in pompous processions and idle anathemas, with the
embarrassments of Ferdinand, and instead of the desired subsidy he was
shown the devastation of Mantua.

On all sides of his extensive monarchy hostile arms surrounded him.
With the states of the League, now overrun by the enemy, those ramparts
were thrown down, behind which Austria had so long defended herself, and
the embers of war were now smouldering upon her unguarded frontiers.
His most zealous allies were disarmed; Maximilian of Bavaria, his
firmest support, was scarce able to defend himself. His armies,
weakened by desertion and repeated defeat, and dispirited by continued
misfortunes had unlearnt, under beaten generals, that warlike
impetuosity which, as it is the consequence, so it is the guarantee of
success. The danger was extreme, and extraordinary means alone could
raise the imperial power from the degradation into which it was fallen.

The most urgent want was that of a general; and the only one from whom
he could hope for the revival of his former splendour, had been removed
from his command by an envious cabal. So low had the Emperor now
fallen, that he was forced to make the most humiliating proposals to his
injured subject and servant, and meanly to press upon the imperious Duke
of Friedland the acceptance of the powers which no less meanly had been
taken from him. A new spirit began from this moment to animate the
expiring body of Austria; and a sudden change in the aspect of affairs
bespoke the firm hand which guided them. To the absolute King of
Sweden, a general equally absolute was now opposed; and one victorious
hero was confronted with another. Both armies were again to engage in
the doubtful struggle; and the prize of victory, already almost secured
in the hands of Gustavus Adolphus, was to be the object of another and a
severer trial. The storm of war gathered around Nuremberg; before its
walls the hostile armies encamped; gazing on each other with dread and
respect, longing for, and yet shrinking from, the moment that was to
close them together in the shock of battle. The eyes of Europe turned
to the scene in curiosity and alarm, while Nuremberg, in dismay,
expected soon to lend its name to a more decisive battle than that of
Leipzig. Suddenly the clouds broke, and the storm rolled away from
Franconia, to burst upon the plains of Saxony. Near Lutzen fell the
thunder that had menaced Nuremberg; the victory, half lost, was
purchased by the death of the king. Fortune, which had never forsaken
him in his lifetime, favoured the King of Sweden even in his death, with
the rare privilege of falling in the fulness of his glory and an
untarnished fame. By a timely death, his protecting genius rescued him
from the inevitable fate of man--that of forgetting moderation in the
intoxication of success, and justice in the plenitude of power. It may
be doubted whether, had he lived longer, he would still have deserved
the tears which Germany shed over his grave, or maintained his title to
the admiration with which posterity regards him, as the first and only
JUST conqueror that the world has produced. The untimely fall of their
great leader seemed to threaten the ruin of his party; but to the Power
which rules the world, no loss of a single man is irreparable. As the
helm of war dropped from the hand of the falling hero, it was seized by
two great statesmen, Oxenstiern and Richelieu. Destiny still pursued
its relentless course, and for full sixteen years longer the flames of
war blazed over the ashes of the long-forgotten king and soldier.

I may now be permitted to take a cursory retrospect of Gustavus Adolphus
in his victorious career; glance at the scene in which he alone was the
great actor; and then, when Austria becomes reduced to extremity by the
successes of the Swedes, and by a series of disasters is driven to the
most humiliating and desperate expedients, to return to the history of
the Emperor.

As soon as the plan of operations had been concerted at Halle, between
the King of Sweden and the Elector of Saxony; as soon as the alliance
had been concluded with the neighbouring princes of Weimar and Anhalt,
and preparations made for the recovery of the bishopric of Magdeburg,
the king began his march into the empire. He had here no despicable foe
to contend with. Within the empire, the Emperor was still powerful;
throughout Franconia, Swabia, and the Palatinate, imperial garrisons
were posted, with whom the possession of every place of importance must
be disputed sword in hand. On the Rhine he was opposed by the
Spaniards, who had overrun the territory of the banished Elector
Palatine, seized all its strong places, and would everywhere dispute
with him the passage over that river. On his rear was Tilly, who was
fast recruiting his force, and would soon be joined by the auxiliaries
from Lorraine. Every Papist presented an inveterate foe, while his
connexion with France did not leave him at liberty to act with freedom
against the Roman Catholics. Gustavus had foreseen all these obstacles,
but at the same time the means by which they were to be overcome. The
strength of the Imperialists was broken and divided among different
garrisons, while he would bring against them one by one his whole united
force. If he was to be opposed by the fanaticism of the Roman
Catholics, and the awe in which the lesser states regarded the Emperor’s
power, he might depend on the active support of the Protestants, and
their hatred to Austrian oppression. The ravages of the Imperialist and
Spanish troops also powerfully aided him in these quarters; where the
ill-treated husbandman and citizen sighed alike for a deliverer, and
where the mere change of yoke seemed to promise a relief. Emissaries
were despatched to gain over to the Swedish side the principal free
cities, particularly Nuremberg and Frankfort. The first that lay in the
king’s march, and which he could not leave unoccupied in his rear, was
Erfurt. Here the Protestant party among the citizens opened to him,
without a blow, the gates of the town and the citadel. From the
inhabitants of this, as of every important place which afterwards
submitted, he exacted an oath of allegiance, while he secured its
possession by a sufficient garrison. To his ally, Duke William of
Weimar, he intrusted the command of an army to be raised in Thuringia.
He also left his queen in Erfurt, and promised to increase its
privileges. The Swedish army now crossed the Thuringian forest in two
columns, by Gotha and Arnstadt, and having delivered, in its march, the
county of Henneberg from the Imperialists, formed a junction on the
third day near Koenigshofen, on the frontiers of Franconia.

Francis, Bishop of Wurtzburg, the bitter enemy of the Protestants, and
the most zealous member of the League, was the first to feel the
indignation of Gustavus Adolphus. A few threats gained for the Swedes
possession of his fortress of Koenigshofen, and with it the key of the
whole province. At the news of this rapid conquest, dismay seized all
the Roman Catholic towns of the circle. The Bishops of Wurtzburg and
Bamberg trembled in their castles; they already saw their sees
tottering, their churches profaned, and their religion degraded. The
malice of his enemies had circulated the most frightful representations
of the persecuting spirit and the mode of warfare pursued by the Swedish
king and his soldiers, which neither the repeated assurances of the
king, nor the most splendid examples of humanity and toleration, ever
entirely effaced. Many feared to suffer at the hands of another what in
similar circumstances they were conscious of inflicting themselves.
Many of the richest Roman Catholics hastened to secure by flight their
property, their religion, and their persons, from the sanguinary
fanaticism of the Swedes. The bishop himself set the example. In the
midst of the alarm, which his bigoted zeal had caused, he abandoned his
dominions, and fled to Paris, to excite, if possible, the French
ministry against the common enemy of religion.

The further progress of Gustavus Adolphus in the ecclesiastical
territories agreed with this brilliant commencement. Schweinfurt, and
soon afterwards Wurtzburg, abandoned by their Imperial garrisons,
surrendered; but Marienberg he was obliged to carry by storm. In this
place, which was believed to be impregnable, the enemy had collected a
large store of provisions and ammunition, all of which fell into the
hands of the Swedes. The king found a valuable prize in the library of
the Jesuits, which he sent to Upsal, while his soldiers found a still
more agreeable one in the prelate’s well-filled cellars; his treasures
the bishop had in good time removed. The whole bishopric followed the
example of the capital, and submitted to the Swedes. The king compelled
all the bishop’s subjects to swear allegiance to himself; and, in the
absence of the lawful sovereign, appointed a regency, one half of whose
members were Protestants. In every Roman Catholic town which Gustavus
took, he opened the churches to the Protestant people, but without
retaliating on the Papists the cruelties which they had practised on the
former. On such only as sword in hand refused to submit, were the
fearful rights of war enforced; and for the occasional acts of violence
committed by a few of the more lawless soldiers, in the blind rage of
the first attack, their humane leader is not justly responsible. Those
who were peaceably disposed, or defenceless, were treated with mildness.
It was a sacred principle of Gustavus to spare the blood of his enemies,
as well as that of his own troops.

On the first news of the Swedish irruption, the Bishop of Wurtzburg,
without regarding the treaty which he had entered into with the King of
Sweden, had earnestly pressed the general of the League to hasten to the
assistance of the bishopric. That defeated commander had, in the mean
time, collected on the Weser the shattered remnant of his army,
reinforced himself from the garrisons of Lower Saxony, and effected a
junction in Hesse with Altringer and Fugger, who commanded under him.
Again at the head of a considerable force, Tilly burned with impatience
to wipe out the stain of his first defeat by a splendid victory. From
his camp at Fulda, whither he had marched with his army, he earnestly
requested permission from the Duke of Bavaria to give battle to Gustavus
Adolphus. But, in the event of Tilly’s defeat, the League had no second
army to fall back upon, and Maximilian was too cautious to risk again
the fate of his party on a single battle. With tears in his eyes, Tilly
read the commands of his superior, which compelled him to inactivity.
Thus his march to Franconia was delayed, and Gustavus Adolphus gained
time to overrun the whole bishopric. It was in vain that Tilly,
reinforced at Aschaffenburg by a body of 12,000 men from Lorraine,
marched with an overwhelming force to the relief of Wurtzburg. The town
and citadel were already in the hands of the Swedes, and Maximilian of
Bavaria was generally blamed (and not without cause, perhaps) for
having, by his scruples, occasioned the loss of the bishopric.
Commanded to avoid a battle, Tilly contented himself with checking the
farther advance of the enemy; but he could save only a few of the towns
from the impetuosity of the Swedes. Baffled in an attempt to reinforce
the weak garrison of Hanau, which it was highly important to the Swedes
to gain, he crossed the Maine, near Seligenstadt, and took the direction
of the Bergstrasse, to protect the Palatinate from the conqueror.

Tilly, however, was not the sole enemy whom Gustavus Adolphus met in
Franconia, and drove before him. Charles, Duke of Lorraine, celebrated
in the annals of the time for his unsteadiness of character, his vain
projects, and his misfortunes, ventured to raise a weak arm against the
Swedish hero, in the hope of obtaining from the Emperor the electoral
dignity. Deaf to the suggestions of a rational policy, he listened only
to the dictates of heated ambition; by supporting the Emperor, he
exasperated France, his formidable neighbour; and in the pursuit of a
visionary phantom in another country, left undefended his own dominions,
which were instantly overrun by a French army. Austria willingly
conceded to him, as well as to the other princes of the League, the
honour of being ruined in her cause. Intoxicated with vain hopes, this
prince collected a force of 17,000 men, which he proposed to lead in
person against the Swedes.
If these troops were deficient in discipline
and courage, they were at least attractive by the splendour of their
accoutrements; and however sparing they were of their prowess against
the foe, they were liberal enough with it against the defenceless
citizens and peasantry, whom they were summoned to defend. Against the
bravery, and the formidable discipline of the Swedes this splendidly
attired army, however, made no long stand. On the first advance of the
Swedish cavalry a panic seized them, and they were driven without
difficulty from their cantonments in Wurtzburg; the defeat of a few
regiments occasioned a general rout, and the scattered remnant sought a
covert from the Swedish valour in the towns beyond the Rhine. Loaded
with shame and ridicule, the duke hurried home by Strasburg, too
fortunate in escaping, by a submissive written apology, the indignation
of his conqueror, who had first beaten him out of the field, and then
called upon him to account for his hostilities. It is related upon this
occasion that, in a village on the Rhine a peasant struck the horse of
the duke as he rode past, exclaiming, “Haste, Sir, you must go quicker
to escape the great King of Sweden! ”

The example of his neighbours’ misfortunes had taught the Bishop of
Bamberg prudence. To avert the plundering of his territories, he made
offers of peace, though these were intended only to delay the king’s
course till the arrival of assistance. Gustavus Adolphus, too
honourable himself to suspect dishonesty in another, readily accepted
the bishop’s proposals, and named the conditions on which he was willing
to save his territories from hostile treatment. He was the more
inclined to peace, as he had no time to lose in the conquest of Bamberg,
and his other designs called him to the Rhine. The rapidity with which
he followed up these plans, cost him the loss of those pecuniary
supplies which, by a longer residence in Franconia, he might easily have
extorted from the weak and terrified bishop. This artful prelate broke
off the negotiation the instant the storm of war passed away from his
own territories. No sooner had Gustavus marched onwards than he threw
himself under the protection of Tilly, and received the troops of the
Emperor into the very towns and fortresses, which shortly before he had
shown himself ready to open to the Swedes. By this stratagem, however,
he only delayed for a brief interval the ruin of his bishopric. A
Swedish general who had been left in Franconia, undertook to punish the
perfidy of the bishop; and the ecclesiastical territory became the seat
of war, and was ravaged alike by friends and foes.

The formidable presence of the Imperialists had hitherto been a check
upon the Franconian States; but their retreat, and the humane conduct of
the Swedish king, emboldened the nobility and other inhabitants of this
circle to declare in his favour. Nuremberg joyfully committed itself to
his protection; and the Franconian nobles were won to his cause by
flattering proclamations, in which he condescended to apologize for his
hostile appearance in the dominions. The fertility of Franconia, and
the rigorous honesty of the Swedish soldiers in their dealings with the
inhabitants, brought abundance to the camp of the king. The high esteem
which the nobility of the circle felt for Gustavus, the respect and
admiration with which they regarded his brilliant exploits, the promises
of rich booty which the service of this monarch held out, greatly
facilitated the recruiting of his troops; a step which was made
necessary by detaching so many garrisons from the main body. At the
sound of his drums, recruits flocked to his standard from all quarters.

The king had scarcely spent more time in conquering Franconia, than he
would have required to cross it. He now left behind him Gustavus Horn,
one of his best generals, with a force of 8,000 men, to complete and
retain his conquest. He himself with his main army, reinforced by the
late recruits, hastened towards the Rhine in order to secure this
frontier of the empire from the Spaniards; to disarm the ecclesiastical
electors, and to obtain from their fertile territories new resources for
the prosecution of the war. Following the course of the Maine, he
subjected, in the course of his march, Seligenstadt, Aschaffenburg,
Steinheim, the whole territory on both sides of the river. The imperial
garrisons seldom awaited his approach, and never attempted resistance.
In the meanwhile one of his colonels had been fortunate enough to take
by surprise the town and citadel of Hanau, for whose preservation Tilly
had shown such anxiety. Eager to be free of the oppressive burden of
the Imperialists, the Count of Hanau gladly placed himself under the
milder yoke of the King of Sweden.

Gustavus Adolphus now turned his whole attention to Frankfort, for it
was his constant maxim to cover his rear by the friendship and
possession of the more important towns. Frankfort was among the free
cities which, even from Saxony, he had endeavoured to prepare for his
reception; and he now called upon it, by a summons from Offenbach, to
allow him a free passage, and to admit a Swedish garrison. Willingly
would this city have dispensed with the necessity of choosing between
the King of Sweden and the Emperor; for, whatever party they might
embrace, the inhabitants had a like reason to fear for their privileges
and trade. The Emperor’s vengeance would certainly fall heavily upon
them, if they were in a hurry to submit to the King of Sweden, and
afterwards he should prove unable to protect his adherents in Germany.
But still more ruinous for them would be the displeasure of an
irresistible conqueror, who, with a formidable army, was already before
their gates, and who might punish their opposition by the ruin of their
commerce and prosperity. In vain did their deputies plead the danger
which menaced their fairs, their privileges, perhaps their constitution
itself, if, by espousing the party of the Swedes, they were to incur the
Emperor’s displeasure. Gustavus Adolphus expressed to them his
astonishment that, when the liberties of Germany and the Protestant
religion were at stake, the citizens of Frankfort should talk of their
annual fairs, and postpone for temporal interests the great cause of
their country and their conscience. He had, he continued, in a menacing
tone, found the keys of every town and fortress, from the Isle of Rugen
to the Maine, and knew also where to find a key to Frankfort; the safety
of Germany, and the freedom of the Protestant Church, were, he assured
them, the sole objects of his invasion; conscious of the justice of his
cause, he was determined not to allow any obstacle to impede his
progress. “The inhabitants of Frankfort, he was well aware, wished to
stretch out only a finger to him, but he must have the whole hand in
order to have something to grasp. ” At the head of the army, he closely
followed the deputies as they carried back his answer, and in order of
battle awaited, near Saxenhausen, the decision of the council.

If Frankfort hesitated to submit to the Swedes, it was solely from fear
of the Emperor; their own inclinations did not allow them a moment to
doubt between the oppressor of Germany and its protector. The menacing
preparations amidst which Gustavus Adolphus now compelled them to
decide, would lessen the guilt of their revolt in the eyes of the
Emperor, and by an appearance of compulsion justify the step which they
willingly took. The gates were therefore opened to the King of Sweden,
who marched his army through this imperial town in magnificent
procession, and in admirable order. A garrison of 600 men was left in
Saxenhausen; while the king himself advanced the same evening, with the
rest of his army, against the town of Hoechst in Mentz, which
surrendered to him before night.

While Gustavus was thus extending his conquests along the Maine, fortune
crowned also the efforts of his generals and allies in the north of
Germany. Rostock, Wismar, and Doemitz, the only strong places in the
Duchy of Mecklenburg which still sighed under the yoke of the
Imperialists, were recovered by their legitimate sovereign, the Duke
John Albert, under the Swedish general, Achatius Tott. In vain did the
imperial general, Wolf Count von Mansfeld, endeavour to recover from the
Swedes the territories of Halberstadt, of which they had taken
possession immediately upon the victory of Leipzig; he was even
compelled to leave Magdeburg itself in their hands. The Swedish
general, Banner, who with 8,000 men remained upon the Elbe, closely
blockaded that city, and had defeated several imperial regiments which
had been sent to its relief. Count Mansfeld defended it in person with
great resolution; but his garrison being too weak to oppose for any
length of time the numerous force of the besiegers, he was already about
to surrender on conditions, when Pappenheim advanced to his assistance,
and gave employment elsewhere to the Swedish arms. Magdeburg, however,
or rather the wretched huts that peeped out miserably from among the
ruins of that once great town, was afterwards voluntarily abandoned by
the Imperialists, and immediately taken possession of by the Swedes.

Even Lower Saxony, encouraged by the progress of the king, ventured to
raise its head from the disasters of the unfortunate Danish war. They
held a congress at Hamburg, and resolved upon raising three regiments,
which they hoped would be sufficient to free them from the oppressive
garrisons of the Imperialists. The Bishop of Bremen, a relation of
Gustavus Adolphus, was not content even with this; but assembled troops
of his own, and terrified the unfortunate monks and priests of the
neighbourhood, but was quickly compelled by the imperial general, Count
Gronsfeld, to lay down his arms. Even George, Duke of Lunenburg,
formerly a colonel in the Emperor’s service, embraced the party of
Gustavus, for whom he raised several regiments, and by occupying the
attention of the Imperialists in Lower Saxony, materially assisted him.

But more important service was rendered to the king by the Landgrave
William of Hesse Cassel, whose victorious arms struck with terror the
greater part of Westphalia and Lower Saxony, the bishopric of Fulda, and
even the Electorate of Cologne. It has been already stated that
immediately after the conclusion of the alliance between the Landgrave
and Gustavus Adolphus at Werben, two imperial generals, Fugger and
Altringer, were ordered by Tilly to march into Hesse, to punish the
Landgrave for his revolt from the Emperor. But this prince had as
firmly withstood the arms of his enemies, as his subjects had the
proclamations of Tilly inciting them to rebellion, and the battle of
Leipzig presently relieved him of their presence. He availed himself of
their absence with courage and resolution; in a short time, Vach,
Muenden and Hoexter surrendered to him, while his rapid advance alarmed
the bishoprics of Fulda, Paderborn, and the ecclesiastical territories
which bordered on Hesse. The terrified states hastened by a speedy
submission to set limits to his progress, and by considerable
contributions to purchase exemption from plunder. After these
successful enterprises, the Landgrave united his victorious army with
that of Gustavus Adolphus, and concerted with him at Frankfort their
future plan of operations.

In this city, a number of princes and ambassadors were assembled to
congratulate Gustavus on his success, and either to conciliate his
favour or to appease his indignation. Among them was the fugitive King
of Bohemia, the Palatine Frederick V. , who had hastened from Holland to
throw himself into the arms of his avenger and protector. Gustavus gave
him the unprofitable honour of greeting him as a crowned head, and
endeavoured, by a respectful sympathy, to soften his sense of his
misfortunes. But great as the advantages were, which Frederick had
promised himself from the power and good fortune of his protector; and
high as were the expectations he had built on his justice and
magnanimity, the chance of this unfortunate prince’s reinstatement in
his kingdom was as distant as ever. The inactivity and contradictory
politics of the English court had abated the zeal of Gustavus Adolphus,
and an irritability which he could not always repress, made him on this
occasion forget the glorious vocation of protector of the oppressed, in
which, on his invasion of Germany, he had so loudly announced himself.

The terrors of the king’s irresistible strength, and the near prospect
of his vengeance, had also compelled George, Landgrave of Hesse
Darmstadt, to a timely submission. His connection with the Emperor, and
his indifference to the Protestant cause, were no secret to the king,
but he was satisfied with laughing at so impotent an enemy. As the
Landgrave knew his own strength and the political situation of Germany
so little, as to offer himself as mediator between the contending
parties, Gustavus used jestingly to call him the peacemaker. He was
frequently heard to say, when at play he was winning from the Landgrave,
“that the money afforded double satisfaction, as it was Imperial coin. ”
To his affinity with the Elector of Saxony, whom Gustavus had cause to
treat with forbearance, the Landgrave was indebted for the favourable
terms he obtained from the king, who contented himself with the
surrender of his fortress of Russelheim, and his promise of observing a
strict neutrality during the war. The Counts of Westerwald and Wetteran
also visited the King in Frankfort, to offer him their assistance
against the Spaniards, and to conclude an alliance, which was afterwards
of great service to him. The town of Frankfort itself had reason to
rejoice at the presence of this monarch, who took their commerce under
his protection, and by the most effectual measures restored the fairs,
which had been greatly interrupted by the war.

The Swedish army was now reinforced by ten thousand Hessians, which the
Landgrave of Casse commanded. Gustavus Adolphus had already invested
Koenigstein; Kostheim and Floersheim surrendered after a short siege; he
was in command of the Maine; and transports were preparing with all
speed at Hoechst to carry his troops across the Rhine. These
preparations filled the Elector of Mentz, Anselm Casimir, with
consternation; and he no longer doubted but that the storm of war would
next fall upon him. As a partisan of the Emperor, and one of the most
active members of the League, he could expect no better treatment than
his confederates, the Bishops of Wurtzburg and Bamberg, had already
experienced. The situation of his territories upon the Rhine made it
necessary for the enemy to secure them, while the fertility afforded an
irresistible temptation to a necessitous army. Miscalculating his own
strength and that of his adversaries, the Elector flattered himself that
he was able to repel force by force, and weary out the valour of the
Swedes by the strength of his fortresses. He ordered the fortifications
of his capital to be repaired with all diligence, provided it with every
necessary for sustaining a long siege, and received into the town a
garrison of 2,000 Spaniards, under Don Philip de Sylva. To prevent the
approach of the Swedish transports, he endeavoured to close the mouth of
the Maine by driving piles, and sinking large heaps of stones and
vessels. He himself, however, accompanied by the Bishop of Worms, and
carrying with him his most precious effects, took refuge in Cologne, and
abandoned his capital and territories to the rapacity of a tyrannical
garrison. But these preparations, which bespoke less of true courage
than of weak and overweening confidence, did not prevent the Swedes from
marching against Mentz, and making serious preparations for an attack
upon the city. While one body of their troops poured into the Rheingau,
routed the Spaniards who remained there, and levied contributions on the
inhabitants, another laid the Roman Catholic towns in Westerwald and
Wetterau under similar contributions. The main army had encamped at
Cassel, opposite Mentz; and Bernhard, Duke of Weimar, made himself
master of the Maeusethurm and the Castle of Ehrenfels, on the other side
of the Rhine. Gustavus was now actively preparing to cross the river,
and to blockade the town on the land side, when the movements of Tilly
in Franconia suddenly called him from the siege, and obtained for the
Elector a short repose.

The danger of Nuremberg, which, during the absence of Gustavus Adolphus
on the Rhine, Tilly had made a show of besieging, and, in the event of
resistance, threatened with the cruel fate of Magdeburg, occasioned the
king suddenly to retire from before Mentz. Lest he should expose
himself a second time to the reproaches of Germany, and the disgrace of
abandoning a confederate city to a ferocious enemy, he hastened to its
relief by forced marches. On his arrival at Frankfort, however, he
heard of its spirited resistance, and of the retreat of Tilly, and lost
not a moment in prosecuting his designs against Mentz. Failing in an
attempt to cross the Rhine at Cassel, under the cannon of the besieged,
he directed his march towards the Bergstrasse, with a view of
approaching the town from an opposite quarter. Here he quickly made
himself master of all the places of importance, and at Stockstadt,
between Gernsheim and Oppenheim, appeared a second time upon the banks
of the Rhine. The whole of the Bergstrasse was abandoned by the
Spaniards, who endeavoured obstinately to defend the other bank of the
river. For this purpose, they had burned or sunk all the vessels in the
neighbourhood, and arranged a formidable force on the banks, in case the
king should attempt the passage at that place.

On this occasion, the king’s impetuosity exposed him to great danger of
falling into the hands of the enemy. In order to reconnoitre the
opposite bank, he crossed the river in a small boat; he had scarcely
landed when he was attacked by a party of Spanish horse, from whose
hands he only saved himself by a precipitate retreat. Having at last,
with the assistance of the neighbouring fishermen, succeeded in
procuring a few transports, he despatched two of them across the river,
bearing Count Brahe and 300 Swedes. Scarcely had this officer time to
entrench himself on the opposite bank, when he was attacked by 14
squadrons of Spanish dragoons and cuirassiers. Superior as the enemy
was in number, Count Brahe, with his small force, bravely defended
himself, and gained time for the king to support him with fresh troops.
The Spaniards at last retired with the loss of 600 men, some taking
refuge in Oppenheim, and others in Mentz. A lion of marble on a high
pillar, holding a naked sword in his paw, and a helmet on his head, was
erected seventy years after the event, to point out to the traveller the
spot where the immortal monarch crossed the great river of Germany.

Gustavus Adolphus now conveyed his artillery and the greater part of his
troops over the river, and laid siege to Oppenheim, which, after a brave
resistance, was, on the 8th December, 1631, carried by storm. Five
hundred Spaniards, who had so courageously defended the place, fell
indiscriminately a sacrifice to the fury of the Swedes. The crossing of
the Rhine by Gustavus struck terror into the Spaniards and Lorrainers,
who had thought themselves protected by the river from the vengeance of
the Swedes. Rapid flight was now their only security; every place
incapable of an effectual defence was immediately abandoned. After a
long train of outrages on the defenceless citizens, the troops of
Lorraine evacuated Worms, which, before their departure, they treated
with wanton cruelty. The Spaniards hastened to shut themselves up in
Frankenthal, where they hoped to defy the victorious arms of Gustavus
Adolphus.

The king lost no time in prosecuting his designs against Mentz, into
which the flower of the Spanish troops had thrown themselves. While he
advanced on the left bank of the Rhine, the Landgrave of Hesse Cassel
moved forward on the other, reducing several strong places on his march.
The besieged Spaniards, though hemmed in on both sides, displayed at
first a bold determination, and threw, for several days, a shower of
bombs into the Swedish camp, which cost the king many of his bravest
soldiers. But notwithstanding, the Swedes continually gained ground,
and had at last advanced so close to the ditch that they prepared
seriously for storming the place. The courage of the besieged now began
to droop. They trembled before the furious impetuosity of the Swedish
soldiers, of which Marienberg, in Wurtzburg, had afforded so fearful an
example. The same dreadful fate awaited Mentz, if taken by storm; and
the enemy might even be easily tempted to revenge the carnage of
Magdeburg on this rich and magnificent residence of a Roman Catholic
prince. To save the town, rather than their own lives, the Spanish
garrison capitulated on the fourth day, and obtained from the
magnanimity of Gustavus a safe conduct to Luxembourg; the greater part
of them, however, following the example of many others, enlisted in the
service of Sweden.

On the 13th December, 1631, the king made his entry into the conquered
town, and fixed his quarters in the palace of the Elector. Eighty
pieces of cannon fell into his hands, and the citizens were obliged to
redeem their property from pillage, by a payment of 80,000 florins. The
benefits of this redemption did not extend to the Jews and the clergy,
who were obliged to make large and separate contributions for
themselves. The library of the Elector was seized by the king as his
share, and presented by him to his chancellor, Oxenstiern, who intended
it for the Academy of Westerrah, but the vessel in which it was shipped
to Sweden foundered at sea.

After the loss of Mentz, misfortune still pursued the Spaniards on the
Rhine. Shortly before the capture of that city, the Landgrave of Hesse
Cassel had taken Falkenstein and Reifenberg, and the fortress of
Koningstein surrendered to the Hessians. The Rhinegrave, Otto Louis,
one of the king’s generals, defeated nine Spanish squadrons who were on
their march for Frankenthal, and made himself master of the most
important towns upon the Rhine, from Boppart to Bacharach. After the
capture of the fortress of Braunfels, which was effected by the Count of
Wetterau, with the co-operation of the Swedes, the Spaniards quickly
lost every place in Wetterau, while in the Palatinate they retained few
places besides Frankenthal. Landau and Kronweisenberg openly declared
for the Swedes; Spires offered troops for the king’s service; Manheim
was gained through the prudence of the Duke Bernard of Weimar, and the
negligence of its governor, who, for this misconduct, was tried before
the council of war, at Heidelberg, and beheaded.

The king had protracted the campaign into the depth of winter, and the
severity of the season was perhaps one cause of the advantage his
soldiers gained over those of the enemy. But the exhausted troops now
stood in need of the repose of winter quarters, which, after the
surrender of Mentz, Gustavus assigned to them, in its neighbourhood. He
himself employed the interval of inactivity in the field, which the
season of the year enjoined, in arranging, with his chancellor, the
affairs of his cabinet, in treating for a neutrality with some of his
enemies, and adjusting some political disputes which had sprung up with
a neighbouring ally. He chose the city of Mentz for his winter
quarters, and the settlement of these state affairs, and showed a
greater partiality for this town, than seemed consistent with the
interests of the German princes, or the shortness of his visit to the
Empire. Not content with strongly fortifying it, he erected at the
opposite angle which the Maine forms with the Rhine, a new citadel,
which was named Gustavusburg from its founder, but which is better known
under the title of Pfaffenraub or Pfaffenzwang. --[Priests’ plunder;
alluding to the means by which the expense of its erection had been
defrayed. ]

While Gustavus Adolphus made himself master of the Rhine, and threatened
the three neighbouring electorates with his victorious arms, his
vigilant enemies in Paris and St. Germain’s made use of every artifice
to deprive him of the support of France, and, if possible, to involve
him in a war with that power. By his sudden and equivocal march to the
Rhine, he had surprised his friends, and furnished his enemies with the
means of exciting a distrust of his intentions. After the conquest of
Wurtzburg, and of the greater part of Franconia, the road into Bavaria
and Austria lay open to him through Bamberg and the Upper Palatinate;
and the expectation was as general, as it was natural, that he would not
delay to attack the Emperor and the Duke of Bavaria in the very centre
of their power, and, by the reduction of his two principal enemies,
bring the war immediately to an end. But to the surprise of both
parties, Gustavus left the path which general expectation had thus
marked out for him; and instead of advancing to the right, turned to the
left, to make the less important and more innocent princes of the Rhine
feel his power, while he gave time to his more formidable opponents to
recruit their strength. Nothing but the paramount design of reinstating
the unfortunate Palatine, Frederick V. , in the possession of his
territories, by the expulsion of the Spaniards, could seem to account
for this strange step; and the belief that Gustavus was about to effect
that restoration, silenced for a while the suspicions of his friends and
the calumnies of his enemies. But the Lower Palatinate was now almost
entirely cleared of the enemy; and yet Gustavus continued to form new
schemes of conquest on the Rhine, and to withhold the reconquered
country from the Palatine, its rightful owner. In vain did the English
ambassador remind him of what justice demanded, and what his own solemn
engagement made a duty of honour; Gustavus replied to these demands with
bitter complaints of the inactivity of the English court, and prepared
to carry his victorious standard into Alsace, and even into Lorraine.

A distrust of the Swedish monarch was now loud and open, while the
malice of his enemies busily circulated the most injurious reports as to
his intentions. Richelieu, the minister of Louis XIII. , had long
witnessed with anxiety the king’s progress towards the French frontier,
and the suspicious temper of Louis rendered him but too accessible to
the evil surmises which the occasion gave rise to. France was at this
time involved in a civil war with her Protestant subjects, and the fear
was not altogether groundless, that the approach of a victorious monarch
of their party might revive their drooping spirit, and encourage them to
a more desperate resistance. This might be the case, even if Gustavus
Adolphus was far from showing a disposition to encourage them, or to act
unfaithfully towards his ally, the King of France. But the vindictive
Bishop of Wurtzburg, who was anxious to avenge the loss of his
dominions, the envenomed rhetoric of the Jesuits and the active zeal of
the Bavarian minister, represented this dreaded alliance between the
Huguenots and the Swedes as an undoubted fact, and filled the timid mind
of Louis with the most alarming fears. Not merely chimerical
politicians, but many of the best informed Roman Catholics, fully
believed that the king was on the point of breaking into the heart of
France, to make common cause with the Huguenots, and to overturn the
Catholic religion within the kingdom. Fanatical zealots already saw
him, with his army, crossing the Alps, and dethroning the Viceregent of
Christ in Italy. Such reports no doubt soon refute themselves; yet it
cannot be denied that Gustavus, by his manoeuvres on the Rhine, gave a
dangerous handle to the malice of his enemies, and in some measure
justified the suspicion that he directed his arms, not so much against
the Emperor and the Duke of Bavaria, as against the Roman Catholic
religion itself.

The general clamour of discontent which the Jesuits raised in all the
Catholic courts, against the alliance between France and the enemy of
the church, at last compelled Cardinal Richelieu to take a decisive step
for the security of his religion, and at once to convince the Roman
Catholic world of the zeal of France, and of the selfish policy of the
ecclesiastical states of Germany. Convinced that the views of the King
of Sweden, like his own, aimed solely at the humiliation of the power of
Austria, he hesitated not to promise to the princes of the League, on
the part of Sweden, a complete neutrality, immediately they abandoned
their alliance with the Emperor and withdrew their troops. Whatever the
resolution these princes should adopt, Richelieu would equally attain
his object. By their separation from the Austrian interest, Ferdinand
would be exposed to the combined attack of France and Sweden; and
Gustavus Adolphus, freed from his other enemies in Germany, would be
able to direct his undivided force against the hereditary dominions of
Austria. In that event, the fall of Austria was inevitable, and this
great object of Richelieu’s policy would be gained without injury to the
church. If, on the other hand, the princes of the League persisted in
their opposition, and adhered to the Austrian alliance, the result would
indeed be more doubtful, but still France would have sufficiently proved
to all Europe the sincerity of her attachment to the Catholic cause, and
performed her duty as a member of the Roman Church. The princes of the
League would then appear the sole authors of those evils, which the
continuance of the war would unavoidably bring upon the Roman Catholics
of Germany; they alone, by their wilful and obstinate adherence to the
Emperor, would frustrate the measures employed for their protection,
involve the church in danger, and themselves in ruin.

Richelieu pursued this plan with greater zeal, the more he was
embarrassed by the repeated demands of the Elector of Bavaria for
assistance from France; for this prince, as already stated, when he
first began to entertain suspicions of the Emperor, entered immediately
into a secret alliance with France, by which, in the event of any change
in the Emperor’s sentiments, he hoped to secure the possession of the
Palatinate. But though the origin of the treaty clearly showed against
what enemy it was directed, Maximilian now thought proper to make use of
it against the King of Sweden, and did not hesitate to demand from
France that assistance against her ally, which she had simply promised
against Austria. Richelieu, embarrassed by this conflicting alliance
with two hostile powers, had no resource left but to endeavour to put a
speedy termination to their hostilities; and as little inclined to
sacrifice Bavaria, as he was disabled, by his treaty with Sweden, from
assisting it, he set himself, with all diligence, to bring about a
neutrality, as the only means of fulfilling his obligations to both.
For this purpose, the Marquis of Breze was sent, as his plenipotentiary,
to the King of Sweden at Mentz, to learn his sentiments on this point,
and to procure from him favourable conditions for the allied princes.
But if Louis XIII. had powerful motives for wishing for this
neutrality, Gustavus Adolphus had as grave reasons for desiring the
contrary. Convinced by numerous proofs that the hatred of the princes
of the League to the Protestant religion was invincible, their aversion
to the foreign power of the Swedes inextinguishable, and their
attachment to the House of Austria irrevocable, he apprehended less
danger from their open hostility, than from a neutrality which was so
little in unison with their real inclinations; and, moreover, as he was
constrained to carry on the war in Germany at the expense of the enemy,
he manifestly sustained great loss if he diminished their number without
increasing that of his friends. It was not surprising, therefore, if
Gustavus evinced little inclination to purchase the neutrality of the
League, by which he was likely to gain so little, at the expense of the
advantages he had already obtained.

The conditions, accordingly, upon which he offered to adopt the
neutrality towards Bavaria were severe, and suited to these views. He
required of the whole League a full and entire cessation from all
hostilities; the recall of their troops from the imperial army, from the
conquered towns, and from all the Protestant countries; the reduction of
their military force; the exclusion of the imperial armies from their
territories, and from supplies either of men, provisions, or ammunition.
Hard as the conditions were, which the victor thus imposed upon the
vanquished, the French mediator flattered himself he should be able to
induce the Elector of Bavaria to accept them. In order to give time for
an accommodation, Gustavus had agreed to a cessation of hostilities for
a fortnight. But at the very time when this monarch was receiving from
the French agents repeated assurances of the favourable progress of the
negociation, an intercepted letter from the Elector to Pappenheim, the
imperial general in Westphalia, revealed the perfidy of that prince, as
having no other object in view by the whole negociation, than to gain
time for his measures of defence. Far from intending to fetter his
military operations by a truce with Sweden, the artful prince hastened
his preparations, and employed the leisure which his enemy afforded him,
in making the most active dispositions for resistance. The negociation
accordingly failed, and served only to increase the animosity of the
Bavarians and the Swedes.

Tilly’s augmented force, with which he threatened to overrun Franconia,
urgently required the king’s presence in that circle; but it was
necessary to expel previously the Spaniards from the Rhine, and to cut
off their means of invading Germany from the Netherlands. With this
view, Gustavus Adolphus had made an offer of neutrality to the Elector
of Treves, Philip von Zeltern, on condition that the fortress of
Hermanstein should be delivered up to him, and a free passage granted to
his troops through Coblentz. But unwillingly as the Elector had beheld
the Spaniards within his territories, he was still less disposed to
commit his estates to the suspicious protection of a heretic, and to
make the Swedish conqueror master of his destinies. Too weak to
maintain his independence between two such powerful competitors, he took
refuge in the protection of France. With his usual prudence, Richelieu
profited by the embarrassments of this prince to augment the power of
France, and to gain for her an important ally on the German frontier. A
numerous French army was despatched to protect the territory of Treves,
and a French garrison was received into Ehrenbreitstein. But the object
which had moved the Elector to this bold step was not completely gained,
for the offended pride of Gustavus Adolphus was not appeased till he had
obtained a free passage for his troops through Treves.

Pending these negociations with Treves and France, the king’s generals
had entirely cleared the territory of Mentz of the Spanish garrisons,
and Gustavus himself completed the conquest of this district by the
capture of Kreutznach. To protect these conquests, the chancellor
Oxenstiern was left with a division of the army upon the Middle Rhine,
while the main body, under the king himself, began its march against the
enemy in Franconia.

The possession of this circle had, in the mean time, been disputed with
variable success, between Count Tilly and the Swedish General Horn, whom
Gustavus had left there with 8,000 men; and the Bishopric of Bamberg, in
particular, was at once the prize and the scene of their struggle.
Called away to the Rhine by his other projects, the king had left to his
general the chastisement of the bishop, whose perfidy had excited his
indignation, and the activity of Horn justified the choice. In a short
time, he subdued the greater part of the bishopric; and the capital
itself, abandoned by its imperial garrison, was carried by storm. The
banished bishop urgently demanded assistance from the Elector of
Bavaria, who was at length persuaded to put an end to Tilly’s
inactivity. Fully empowered by his master’s order to restore the bishop
to his possessions, this general collected his troops, who were
scattered over the Upper Palatinate, and with an army of 20,000 men
advanced upon Bamberg. Firmly resolved to maintain his conquest even
against this overwhelming force, Horn awaited the enemy within the walls
of Bamberg; but was obliged to yield to the vanguard of Tilly what he
had thought to be able to dispute with his whole army. A panic which
suddenly seized his troops, and which no presence of mind of their
general could check, opened the gates to the enemy, and it was with
difficulty that the troops, baggage, and artillery, were saved. The
reconquest of Bamberg was the fruit of this victory; but Tilly, with all
his activity, was unable to overtake the Swedish general, who retired in
good order behind the Maine. The king’s appearance in Franconia, and
his junction with Gustavus Horn at Kitzingen, put a stop to Tilly’s
conquests, and compelled him to provide for his own safety by a rapid
retreat.

The king made a general review of his troops at Aschaffenburg. After
his junction with Gustavus Horn, Banner, and Duke William of Weimar,
they amounted to nearly 40,000 men. His progress through Franconia was
uninterrupted; for Tilly, far too weak to encounter an enemy so superior
in numbers, had retreated, by rapid marches, towards the Danube.
Bohemia and Bavaria were now equally near to the king, and, uncertain
whither his victorious course might be directed, Maximilian could form
no immediate resolution. The choice of the king, and the fate of both
provinces, now depended on the road that should be left open to Count
Tilly. It was dangerous, during the approach of so formidable an enemy,
to leave Bavaria undefended, in order to protect Austria; still more
dangerous, by receiving Tilly into Bavaria, to draw thither the enemy
also, and to render it the seat of a destructive war. The cares of the
sovereign finally overcame the scruples of the statesman, and Tilly
received orders, at all hazards, to cover the frontiers of Bavaria with
his army.

Nuremberg received with triumphant joy the protector of the Protestant
religion and German freedom, and the enthusiasm of the citizens
expressed itself on his arrival in loud transports of admiration and
joy. Even Gustavus could not contain his astonishment, to see himself
in this city, which was the very centre of Germany, where he had never
expected to be able to penetrate. The noble appearance of his person,
completed the impression produced by his glorious exploits, and the
condescension with which he received the congratulations of this free
city won all hearts. He now confirmed the alliance he had concluded
with it on the shores of the Baltic, and excited the citizens to zealous
activity and fraternal unity against the common enemy. After a short
stay in Nuremberg, he followed his army to the Danube, and appeared
unexpectedly before the frontier town of Donauwerth. A numerous
Bavarian garrison defended the place; and their commander, Rodolph
Maximilian, Duke of Saxe Lauenburg, showed at first a resolute
determination to defend it till the arrival of Tilly. But the vigour
with which Gustavus Adolphus prosecuted the siege, soon compelled him to
take measures for a speedy and secure retreat, which amidst a tremendous
fire from the Swedish artillery he successfully executed.

The conquest of Donauwerth opened to the king the further side of the
Danube, and now the small river Lech alone separated him from Bavaria.
The immediate danger of his dominions aroused all Maximilian’s activity;
and however little he had hitherto disturbed the enemy’s progress to his
frontier, he now determined to dispute as resolutely the remainder of
their course. On the opposite bank of the Lech, near the small town of
Rain, Tilly occupied a strongly fortified camp, which, surrounded by
three rivers, bade defiance to all attack. All the bridges over the
Lech were destroyed; the whole course of the stream protected by strong
garrisons as far as Augsburg; and that town itself, which had long
betrayed its impatience to follow the example of Nuremberg and
Frankfort, secured by a Bavarian garrison, and the disarming of its
inhabitants.