CHAPTER XI.
GUSTAVUS IN GERMANY.—CONCLUDED.
Gustavus seemed to have had all Catholic Europe to fight. While on the Rhine he wrote home: "We have unexpectedly fallen into collision with the arms of the Spaniards," who were in the pay of Maximilian of Bavaria and not that of Spain. He wonders if he shall be obliged to declare war against Spain. He fervently hoped not, as he has just heard that Richelieu is sending a large force of soldiers to help Austria, but he urges them at home to look to the sea coast, particularly Gottenburg. At the Council of State held at Menz, December 31st, 1631, the king had said: "The king of Denmark has publicly spoken of the Spanish designs, and that Farensbach had come to Dunkirk and offered, if he could get ships, to take Gottenburg." The Swedish cabinet sent a military force for the protection of that city.
With all these forces of Rome assailing them one would think the hearts of Protestants would beat as the heart of one man, but selfish interests still divided them. The Elector of Saxony could not endure taking his orders from a Swedish king as the September treaty forced him to do. He could only be true to the faith when his particular State was in danger of being ravaged, and he now began again to work for a reconciliation with Ferdinand.
The German States of the second and third rank fully acknowledged Gustavus as their deliverer. They assisted with both men and money to the full measure of their ability, and after the death of the king of Sweden they did not desert the cause. The Electors of Saxony and Brandenburg, the two chief States, had been forced into the war and did only such service as Gustavus, and danger to their own possessions, obliged them to perform.
As one considers that last winter, a survey reveals how very much had been accomplished. Bernard of Weimar, Christian, Palgrave of Birkenfield, and the Rhinegrave, Otto Lewis, kept the States of the Rhine. Horn carried victorious arms from Franconia to the Neckar. Tott completed the conquest of Mecklenburg, Baner was master at Magdeburg—what was left of it. Yet with all this to encourage Gustavus the real sorrow of the invasion was yet before them.
Of all the curious pages of history the relations between Gustavus and Wallenstein is one of the most curious. It would seem that very soon after the Emperor had sent Wallenstein home, or retired him, Gustavus had been in correspondence with Wallenstein, hoping to obtain his services in the Protestant army. Oxenstiern claimed that the king had written Wallenstein from Stralsund as early as October 30th, 1630. It is quite possible that the king hoped that the great general's anger at the Emperor could be used for the Protestants' benefit.
In February, 1631, Tilly wrote the Emperor that he felt sure that Wallenstein had been tampered with by the kings of England and Sweden, that these kings had tried to have Wallenstein take up arms against the Emperor in Bohemia. "But," said Tilly, "he thanks their majesties for the great honor they have done him, and when he sees the armies of England in the Palatinate he will not lose the opportunity."
Count Thurn, the leader of the Protestant party in Bohemia, seems to have been the friend of both Gustavus and Wallenstein, and acted as the go-between. In June, 1631, just after the fall of Magdeburg, when Gustavus was surrounded with great difficulties, Wallenstein made this demand as necessary to secure his services. Gustavus must victoriously complete a trip to the sea coast, ally himself with Saxony (which he did September 1st, 1631), attack Tilly (which he did at Breitenfield), then send twelve thousand men under Count Thurn, and with this nucleus Wallenstein was to raise an army of fifty thousand men. To these terms Gustavus agreed, and promised to make Wallenstein Viceroy of Bohemia.
At the same time Wallenstein was in secret correspondence with the Emperor of Austria. Never was there a creature of more duplicity than Wallenstein. He met Gustavus soon after the battle of Breitenfield, offered what seemed genuine congratulations, told Gustavus the Emperor thought of reinstating him, possibly to impress the king with the importance of closing negotiations with him. He said, "You will soon chase the Emperor out of his empire."
Gustavus seems to have had in mind that Wallenstein (both he and the Emperor were from Bohemia), would clear Bohemia of Imperialists, while John George of Saxony would clear Silesia, and that after Gustavus himself should master western Germany, they would all meet with their triumphant armies before the walls of Vienna.
It was a beautiful dream, but its fulfillment rested on a man false to every tie which binds man to God or to his fellow-man. But as Gustavus made his successful trip through western Germany he began to fear more and more that such an alliance would not be pleasing to God.
Wallenstein asked for the twelve thousand troops. Gustavus asked delay, saying he was not in a position to spare that number of men. That Wallenstein was a traitor to his Emperor who had really made him all that he was, was a fact well known to the king of Sweden and made him hesitate to employ Wallenstein. A traitor to one is not likely to be true to another.
When Gustavus was at Nuremberg he again opened correspondence with this Bohemian general, but Wallenstein by that time had come to the conclusion that Gustavus was so far from his base of supplies, was so poorly sustained by Saxony and Brandenburg, that with an army of fifty thousand he could drive Gustavus home, and possibly he had the dream (as he is charged with) that he could make himself Emperor, so that while Gustavus was at Nuremberg the correspondence closed finally, and it began to be whispered that Wallenstein would soon be again at the head of the Imperial army.
General Tilly died of his wounds April 30th, 1632. Gustavus had barely escaped death on the day that Tilly was wounded. His horse was shot under him, and his friend, the Margrave of Baden, had his head carried away by a cannon ball almost at the same moment. As Gustavus sprang from the wounded horse his followers screamed, for they thought him killed, but, while covered with blood and dust, he arose from the mêlée, saying, "The apple is not yet ripe." After his return to camp, his officers attempted to offer congratulations. He replied: "The Margrave's death and the ball which came so close to me, recall to my mind my mortality. Man, thou must die, that is the old law from which neither my high descent, not my royal crown, nor my arms, nor my numerous victories can save me. I submit to God's will and guidance. If He removes me from this world, He will not forsake the holy cause which I now defend."
From this time on he talked to his officers of what should be done in case of his death. He was not entranced with the glories of earth; he cared nothing for fame, but he cared very much that he should accomplish the great work he believed himself called upon to perform. He expected soon to be called home to God; therefore, he was careful to show mercy wherever it was possible.
Gustavus now had an army of about one hundred thousand men, this he expected to greatly enlarge during the coming year. He had eighteen thousand in his own command. Horn had twenty thousand on the Main; William of Hesse had eight thousand kept in his own country; Baner, at Magdeburg, had thirteen thousand. Tott, who had been called from Mecklenburg to Lower Saxony, had thirteen thousand, and the Dukes of Mecklenburg had been ordered to send four thousand more. The Saxons in Bohemia had twenty thousand, besides the twelve thousand engaged in garrison duty. The army had many languages, the soldiers were not homogeneous, and were, therefore, hard to manage.
Wherever there was an attack, Gustavus, no difference how much needed where he happened to be, seems to have dropped everything and rushed to the weak point. He was the needed man everywhere, and with that small royal army he seems to have really been blown from one point of attack to another. In each place, in the midst of victory, he had to turn away to help, once Nuremberg, then General Horn, then Saxony. All this shows that, although he had now a large army, he did not regard any part of it strong enough to sustain itself against the Imperial army without his presence. It shows how small a foundation he had for his hopes of delivering Germany, which was so unready, so divided into selfish factions, that unless God's hand had been as markedly with him as it was with Moses, Germany would have been forced back into the mental and spiritual darkness of the age preceding the Reformation.
The occupation of Ratisbon by the Bavarians caused Gustavus Adolphus to decide that he would attack Ingolstadt, and penetrate into the center of Bavaria. He hoped to draw the Elector Maximilian from the Danube and strip it of its protectors. As he was planning for this, France again sent a diplomat to negotiate a peace for Bavaria. To all the talk now concerning Maximilian's neutrality, the king only laughed. He knew that Maximilian was all that was left of the Catholic League, and he replied: "I clearly see that you have only come to impose upon me. I cannot believe that the Duke of Bavaria seriously intends to come to a settlement of our differences. I know him and his priesthood too well. He wears a double cassock, and according to circumstances he turns it, to-day the red, to-morrow the blue. This time I shall not be deceived." The Ambassador ceased to cajole and began to threaten, saying that France was quite able to throw forty thousand troops into Bavaria for the help of the Elector.
Gustavus replied: "If France withdraws her alliance, I shall secure that of the Turks, who are no worse allies than the papists, with their idolatry. At all events I know that I can rely on the help of Almighty God, who has sent me into Germany." The plan was to keep him inactive till Maximilian had brought together his army.
When Tilly died, the Emperor, Ferdinand II., was at his wits' end, and had appealed to the disgraced Wallenstein to save him. Wallenstein made the most severe demands, to which the Emperor was obliged to agree. Immediately Wallenstein stamped his foot, and the robber bands of all Europe appeared again from Italy, from England and Scotland and from Poland. From every German State men flocked to the banner of the arch robber of the middle ages.
The articles of Znaim, in which Wallenstein agrees to take command, are unique on the page of history. They were completed in April, 1632. In this writing the Emperor agreed that no army, except that under Wallenstein, could be introduced into Germany. He alone possessed the power of confiscation and pardon. He could create a new class of princes to rule over States, princes who received and held power only under him. His power was purely military, but by these papers the Emperor practically put the power out of his own hands.
Wallenstein immediately drove the Saxons from Bohemia, offered to revoke the Edict of Restitution for John George of Saxony, that weak prince who was now wavering between his sworn allegiance to Gustavus and Wallenstein. At his side now appeared an army of sixty thousand skilled troops, the mercenaries who were promised large pay and all the loot they could gather.
Wallenstein offered John George of Saxony such terms of peace that Gustavus feared his adherence to the Protestant cause. Gustavus knew that, had Tilly offered the same to the Elector of Saxony, the latter would never have united his fortunes to those of the Protestant States. Such an alliance was a heart-breaking care to the king of Sweden.
In spite of Richelieu's messenger, the king pressed on into Bavaria, a country so hostilely Catholic that to kill a Protestant was considered by the Bavarians to be doing God a service. Gustavus had, up to this time, been welcomed even in the most Catholic State, because he treated the citizens better by far than their own army had done, but in Bavaria he met a different spirit. The priests had stirred them to great bitterness. He was called by them the Antichrist, and in their public prayers they asked God to deliver them from "the Swedish devil." If a Swedish soldier fell into the hands of the peasants he was tortured and mutilated, which greatly exasperated the army and made it difficult for the king to keep his men from retaliating in kind, and, indeed, to keep them from laying waste the entire country.
The king, by his kindness to the towns and to the prisoners of war, showed that his Christianity was superior to theirs. He never kept better discipline in his own army than at this trying time, and he never failed to repay their bitterest hate by added kindness. At Landshut the angry passions were assuaged by the uniform kindness of the king, leading citizens came from their hiding places, and, throwing themselves at the king's feet, they begged for their own lives and for the protection of their towns. Gustavus answered: "When I think of the cruelties which you have practiced on my soldiers, I ask myself the question whether you are men or ferocious animals, and I know not how I can have compassion on you."
He made no promises. Profound silence fell on the town as Gustavus and his staff rode out. He was soon overtaken by a great storm of thunder, lightning and rain. He took that as a personal message from God that he was not to be harsh in his dealings toward this conquered town, so he only assessed them to pay one hundred thousand dollars war expenses, which they considered a complete reprieve, as they had expected the burning of the town.
From Landshut Gustavus went to Munich. The capital city was greatly excited, yet knowing his kindness to other places, they hoped for clemency. Great fear prevailed, but they hoped by an unconditional surrender to disarm vengeance. For that reason they sent messengers to meet him at Freysingen, and placed the keys of the city at his feet.
The king replied to the deputation: "You have done well. With justice I might have avenged Magdeburg on your city. But be not afraid about your property, your families and your religion. Go in peace."
His army had suffered so much they really desired revenge and plunder in this Catholic city, but Gustavus kept the strictest discipline. He conducted the king of Bohemia, the Palatine Frederick, with great pomp and ceremony, into the very palace of the prince who had driven him out. At the same time he showed such forbearance toward the citizens that they paid him marked respect. Even the Jesuits, who had done so much against him, wrote to Rome praising his magnanimity.
Gustavus at Munich visited the Jesuit college. There the Superior addressed him in Latin, praising his eminent qualities. The king replied in the same language, and began an argument concerning the Lord's Supper. He stated clearly the evangelical position, and showed how fully he understood the position of Rome. His staff officers felt annoyed, and told him that he would serve his cause better by driving out the Jesuits than by holding learned arguments with them. Gustavus replied "Do you not see they injure the cause they defend, and how useful they are to that which they oppose?"
The king found the palace at Munich had been robbed of its chief treasures. It was a very handsome building. As he was being escorted through it, the king inquired, "Who was the architect of this building?" The guide replied, "No other than the Elector himself." "I wish," said the king, "I had this architect to send to Sweden." "That," said the guide, "the architect will take care to prevent."
When the arsenal was examined they found the gun-carriages with no cannon in sight. Gustavus was like Cromwell, a shrewd detective himself, and he had the cellars and adjoining ground examined. He found the cannon concealed under the floor. The floor was partly raised up, and the king said: "Rise up from the dead and come to judgment." One hundred and forty pieces obeyed the summons.
In one of the cannon was found thirty thousand gold ducats, which was a great help in paying off his soldiers.
Gustavus greatly admired the magnificent city, which he called "a gold saddle on a bad horse," but felt that he must now push on, for he feared Wallenstein would throw a large part of his army between himself and his base of supplies.
As soon as Wallenstein comprehended that, Bavaria being conquered, Gustavus would march to Vienna, he stirred himself. Gustavus learned that Wallenstein proposed to attack Nuremberg, which had shown the Swedish king such great favor and kindness.
Maximilian entreated Wallenstein to come to his help, and signed papers of allegiance to this upstart general and would-be emperor. Concerning this Wallenstein said: "At last I forced my mortal enemy to implore my pardon and support. I am avenged of all the evil he has done me." Wallenstein now had sixty thousand troops with which to attack Nuremberg, while Gustavus had about twenty thousand with which to oppose him. Gustavus could easily have avoided an engagement and left Nuremberg to the fate of Magdeburg. He preferred to perish with the city rather than expose this Protestant stronghold to the severities of the Imperial army. He threw up entrenchments outside the wall, and placed his soldiers outside the city, so as not to inconvenience the inhabitants.
The citizens came out with shovels and picks and assisted the soldiers, the women came with good food, so that in two weeks they had an entrenchment which would protect almost as well as a wall. In the meantime the authorities were out buying all the provisions possible to put the city in condition to stand a siege. Then the king had his officers organize and train the militia as to best methods of maintaining order, and fitting them to assist in protecting the city. Gustavus said: "Nuremberg is the apple of my eye, and I shall defend it to the best of my ability." The soldiers and citizens were in perfect harmony, and together made preparations to receive the rapidly approaching enemy.
Wallenstein's army did not at once attack the city, but went into an almost impregnable camp on a hill three miles away. Wallenstein said: "Hitherto enough battles have been fought, I shall try another method." He fully expected famine and pestilence to do his work for him in that crowded, besieged city. He did not understand that they were in a degree prepared for siege. On his approach the country people had sold all farm animals to the city, or had used them to transport themselves and families far away.
Gustavus sent out for provisions for his army as long as provender for man or beast could be had; when these supplies could no longer be obtained, the city opened its magazines to the king, while Wallenstein's troops had to travel long distances to obtain subsistence.
Once a long train of wagons was bringing supplies for Wallenstein from Bavaria, and the king, learning of its approach, sent a regiment of cavalry and intercepted the entire cavalcade. The escort was destroyed, twelve thousand cattle and a thousand wagon-loads of bread were brought to camp, and what could not be brought in was destroyed by fire. Wallenstein began to declare that a battle would have cost him less.
The entrenchments of the Swedes now made an attack almost impossible, but the crowded city caused diseases common to the army, the inactivity of soldiers and men began to play havoc with army discipline.
The German troops robbed their countrymen, and Swedish soldiers soon followed their example. Gustavus remonstrated again and again with the German officers; at last, on June 29th, he gave them a berating which they never forgot. He brought them together and said: "Complaint reaches me on all sides about the conduct of our troops in regard to our allies. People complain that the Swedes wage war like the Croats. These reproaches break my heart, especially since I know they are too true. I am innocent of all these disorders; I have always forbidden and punished them severely. It is you yourselves, Germans, who lay waste your native country, ransack your fellow-citizens and drive your co-religionists, whom you have sworn to protect, to despair. As God is my judge, I abhor you; my heart sinks within me, even when I look upon you. You break my orders, you are the cause that the world curses me, that the tears of poverty follow me, that complaints ring in my ears. They say, 'The king, our friend, does us more harm than even Wallenstein, our worst enemy.' If you were true Christians, you would fulfill your duties to your country, to your brethren, and you would remember what I have done for you. It is for you that I have ventured my life and sacrificed my peace. It is for you I have depopulated Sweden, stripped my kingdom of its treasures, and spent upon you four million dollars in gold, while from your German empire I have not received the least aid, not even so much as would buy a miserable doublet. I ask nothing of you, and would prefer to return home poor and naked rather than to clothe and enrich myself at your expense. I gave you a share of all that God had given me, and had you regarded my orders I would gladly have shared with you all my future acquisitions.
"Your want of discipline convinces me of your evil intentions, whatever cause I might otherwise have to applaud your bravery. If you murmur, if you forget God and honor so that you forsake me, I shall surround myself with my Swedes and Finns; we shall defend ourselves to the last man, and the whole world shall see that being a Christian king, I have preferred to give up my life rather than to defile by a crime the holy work which God has entrusted to me.
"I request you, for God's sake, to commune with yourselves, and ask your consciences. Remember, you must give an account to God of your conduct, and that you will appear before the judgment seat of the all-seeing heavenly Judge."
Many were moved to tears, and promised to heed his words. Afterward, as the king passed through camp, he saw a cow before one of the tents. He took the young corporal before the court, saying: "Son, it is better I should punish you for this than that God should punish me and my army and all of us together." He punished several officers for stealing, so that while the Nurembergers paid the severe price of war, yet the king did his best for their protection.
But hunger continually pinched in the city and the camp. The one hundred and thirty-eight bakeries in the city could not supply the demand. Men fought for the bread as it came from the ovens. The horses died and infected the air, pestilence in the form of dysentery attacked both city and camp, so that twenty-nine thousand died, and graves could scarcely be found for them.
By August 12th Oxenstiern, Baner and Duke Bernard, also William of Weimar, brought in enough men to give the king an army of seventy thousand men, with an addition of sixty cannon, and four thousand wagons of supplies, clothing and ammunition, but not much food.
Wallenstein also received reinforcements. The lack of food for both camps was fast rendering the men unfit for service, so that the king now determined to attack Wallenstein in his stronghold. On August 21st, 1632, Gustavus thought he saw signs of Wallenstein's retiring, and on the 22d he attacked Wallenstein in his trenches. For twelve long hours the Swedish army stormed that hill with unbroken courage, but with dreadful losses. Bernard on the right held his ground. Gustavus commanded the left, and at his direction the cannon were dragged from place to place, the king pointing many of them with his own hands. In the morning of August 23d rain began to fall. The Swedes had lost four thousand men. Torstenston was prisoner, Baner wounded, the king had the sole of his boot shot away. They had fought all day and all night with insufficient food, and the Swedes were forced to retreat.
Nuremberg had lost over ten thousand inhabitants, and Gustavus, during the siege and battle, had lost twenty thousand of his faithful soldiers. The air was putrid from the decaying flesh of men and animals dead under an August sun.
On September 8th the king withdrew from Nuremberg, leaving a sufficient garrison under Oxenstiern, and four days after Wallenstein broke camp and left a trail of burning towns which for years marked the line of his retreat. He had lost fifty thousand men, and now moved northward to prey upon Saxony. Gustavus still had the desire to finish his work in Bavaria, but when he heard that Protestant Saxony was again under the enemy's heel, he prepared at once to move northward.