In describing a struggle between two rival powers in a State, it is extremely difficult to give a correct impression of the exact balance of success on either side at a particular crisis in the controversy; and this difficulty is enormously increased when the struggle is concerned partly with the question of spiritual (and therefore mainly individual) liberty; and partly with the growth of those more material forms of centralisation which check constitutional freedom and local self-government. When we hear of Ferdinand yielding on his deathbed to the prisoner whom he had been trying for so many years to crush into obedience, we feel that the victory lies, in the main, with those spiritual forces which were working against ecclesiastical uniformity. Nor does the resistance of the Moravian Estates seem less important as a victory of constitutional freedom, than the firmness of Augusta as a security for spiritual independence.
But the real importance of such episodes as these lies in the contrast which they offer to the main tendencies of Bohemian history during the sixteenth century; and the proof which they consequently give of the survival of forces which seem elsewhere to be crushed out. For centralisation was, after all, steadily growing in the dominions of Ferdinand; and national life, however it might struggle for existence, was being sapped by arbitrary power.
Nor must we forget that there was one moral consideration which worked on the side of Ferdinand. The terrible danger to which Europe was exposed by the Turkish invader was not really removed until the latter part of the seventeenth century; and even Vienna itself was to be once more endangered, before the barbarian could be induced to settle down peaceably beside his neighbours, and confine himself to the oppression of his Christian subjects. When, therefore, Ferdinand found that the local assemblies of the different provinces grudged him their help in this important struggle, and that even at Prague he had difficulty in obtaining both money and soldiers, it was not unnatural that he should feel a growing indifference to liberties which seemed to him so dangerous to the peace and order of Europe.
So when in 1555 he had summoned representatives from all his dominions to meet at Vienna, to devise a common scheme of action against the Turk, he must have bitterly resented the absence of the Bohemians, who refused to attend an Assembly where they might be swamped by Germans and Hungarians. An even more fatal point of opposition between the National desire for peace and independence, and the Imperial scheme for the defence of Europe, was found in the question of military organisation. The old privilege of the Bohemians, to refuse their services for foreign wars, was continually insisted on by them in opposition to Ferdinand; and he was almost unavoidably compelled to raise armies which should be independent of national sentiment, and to garrison the frontier towns of Moravia with soldiers drawn from all parts of his dominions.
Nor, while he was so successful in his schemes of State centralisation, was Ferdinand wholly worsted in his struggle for ecclesiastical unity. One victory at least he gained; and by a curious irony of fortune, he won it by granting a concession which had once been most ardently desired by the Bohemian leaders, but which had now, by change of circumstances, become worse than useless. Just at the close of the Council of Trent, he succeeded in obtaining from the Pope a formal concession to the Bohemians of their right to grant the Cup to the laity. Thus the old watchword of the Hussite wars, separated from all that had given it life and force, now became a step towards the absorption of the Utraquists by the Catholics. When once this concession was granted, Ferdinand insisted that the Utraquists could no longer refuse to accept the authority of the Roman Catholic Archbishop. From this time forward, Utraquism ceases to be a force in Bohemian history. Their separate Consistory was indeed revived by Maximilian; and from time to time the members of it continued to assert themselves in the religious controversies of the day; but every such effort tended more and more plainly to show that the champions of the old faith were but the impotent and unworthy representatives of traditions of former greatness. With the death of Ferdinand, all these questions enter on a new phase. The strength and weakness of the late king’s ideals were to be put to new tests during the reign of his son.
Maximilian is one of those men who seem to the careful student of history all the more pathetic, because their failures are not of that striking and dramatic kind which at once excite the sympathy of the observer; but are rather gathered from a careful comparison of the objects aimed at with those actually accomplished. Hampered by the continual distrust and the domineering influence of his father, half inclined to the extremer doctrines of Protestantism, and yet never able to shake off the recollection that he was the heir of a Catholic tradition; angry with the Jesuits for their intriguing interference with his affairs, and no less angry with the Protestants for those divisions which prevented a completely artistic settlement of the ecclesiastical question; anxious to recognise the local and other liberties of his Bohemian subjects, but conscious of the difficulties which those liberties placed in the way of the struggle against the Turk, Maximilian was continually drifting backwards and forwards in a way which tended to weaken the system of government which his father had tried to establish, without substituting anything freer or more national in its place.
Nor must we forget that Maximilian had to deal with the same insoluble problem for which Charles IV. had only provided a temporary solution. Ferdinand had reigned for nearly thirty years as King of Bohemia, before he had been forced to assume the burden of the German Empire. Maximilian had to take up both these responsibilities at the same time; and, apart from the enormous intellectual and moral difference between Maximilian of Austria and Charles of Luxemburg, the problem with which the later Emperor had to deal was infinitely more complicated than any which presented itself to the statesmen of the fourteenth century. The difference between Protestant and Catholic was in itself enough to introduce years of division and war into the Empire; but that element of confusion was now trebly increased by the new sects into which Lutheranism had been divided, and by the still keener political divisions between the Lutherans and Calvinists. In Bohemia, again, the same difficulties presented themselves in an even more complicated form; for, while many of the Bohemian Reformers had identified their cause with that of the Lutherans, the old feeling of national distinction was driving many into opposition to the aggressive character of the German movement, and compelling them to seek for a new religious centre which should be neither Papal nor German. As the Utraquists could no longer supply such a centre, the championship of Bohemian feeling rapidly passed to the leaders of the Bohemian Brotherhood. The great defender of the national and distinctive position of the Brotherhood, against the encroachments of the Lutherans, was that Blahoslav who had already become prominent as a negotiator with foreign Protestants, and who was ultimately to become the historian of the Brotherhood. He had already vindicated the specially Bohemian character of the Brotherhood against a critic who had tried to identify them with the Franco-Italian sect of the Waldenses; and so keen had Blahoslav and his friends been in the assertion of their national position, that they had been willing sometimes to speak of themselves as “the remains of the Taborites,” choosing rather to identify their cause with a Bohemian sect so different from them both in spirit and doctrine, than with a French or Italian community, however like them in every respect but race.
When, then, the Lutherans demanded that the Bohemian Brothers should accept the Augsburg Confession, and practically consent to absorption in the Lutheran body, Blahoslav and his friends resolved to offer a steady resistance to this proposal. Unfortunately, Blahoslav was forced to encounter, in this controversy, the most distinguished member of his own community. John Augusta, after his release from prison, had been welcomed back to his friends by the main body of the Brotherhood; but he soon found that the power which he desired to exercise over them was still resisted and resented. He proposed that, instead of the free exercise of preaching in the Brotherhood, certain definite parts of the gospel should be chosen for exposition each Sunday in the year; and he himself drew up a plan on which these discourses should be founded. Some of the Brothers objected that the doctrines suggested in his book were not altogether those held by the Brothers; while, no doubt, a still larger number resented the restrictions which such an arrangement would impose on the preachers. Irritated at the general opposition offered to his proposals, Augusta came to the conclusion that the Brotherhood was in a radically unsatisfactory condition; and he threw himself into the movement for union with the Lutherans, as a means of reform. So bitter was the opposition which he roused by this conduct, that he became entirely separated from the rest of the Brotherhood; and, when he died in 1572, his death passed almost unnoticed by those for whom he had done and suffered so much.
In the meantime Maximilian was endeavouring to take up a neutral position in this controversy. Personally in sympathy with the Brothers, but afraid of offending Catholics and Lutherans, he continually assured all parties that he was unable to assent to any legal sanction for religious liberty, since he had bound himself to oppose novelties; but that, if they would only settle their differences between themselves, nobody would interfere with the performance of their religion. Even this statement was more definite and consistent than his actual practice; for, when the Catholic or Utraquist priests applied to him for powers to suppress novelties or heresies, he assented to their proposals, though, when either Brothers or Lutherans complained to him, he assured them of his personal sympathy for them, and his desire to leave them untouched.
His great hope for the solution of these difficulties seems to have lain in some scheme of union among Protestants. If only the Lutheran sects, Bohemian Brothers, and Calvinists would give up their quarrels with one another, religious toleration would become such an easy affair. He therefore sympathised particularly with the new proposal, which was gradually shaping itself in the discussions between the Lutherans and the Brothers. This was a plan for a new Bohemian creed, to be drawn up at a combined meeting of the various sects. The Brothers looked upon this movement with great suspicion. They saw in it an attempt of the Lutherans to secure the acceptance of the Augsburg Confession by indirect means; and they noted their persistent attempts to exclude the Brothers from those Assemblies where ecclesiastical questions were discussed. Nevertheless, when Maximilian, on his return to Bohemia in 1575, consented to preside at the Assembly in which this new creed was to be proposed, the Brothers were willing to take part in the discussion. Doctor Crato, Maximilian’s physician, secretly urged the Brothers to stand firm, assuring them that the Emperor was really in sympathy with them. Encouraged by this hint, they not only resisted a motion for the acceptance of the Augsburg Confession, but they even objected to the appointment of a committee for the preparation of formulæ which were to unite all parties.
The committee was, nevertheless, appointed, and its actions soon justified the fears of the Brothers. In the introduction to the proposed creed, the committee pronounced an anathema against a number of heretics, and, amongst others, against all Calvinists. Now many of the Brothers had embraced Calvinistic doctrines; and their friendship with the champions of those doctrines had been strengthened by motives, both of personal resentment and of moral sympathy. The treatment of the exiled Brothers by the Lutherans of Prussia had repelled the Brotherhood generally from the creed of their unfriendly hosts; while the strict moral discipline maintained in the Calvinistic University of Heidelberg was more attractive to the followers of Peter of Chelc̆ic than the growing laxity of Wittenberg. They therefore offered a successful opposition to that sweeping condemnation of Calvinism to which the Lutherans desired to commit them. But this was, after all, but a minor point in the objections of the Brothers to the proposed creed. Apart from every detail, the proposal to surrender their own Confession in favour of any new form of words whatsoever, was wholly inconsistent with the position which they desired to maintain. They therefore offered such steady resistance to the proposed Confession, that they at last induced the Lutherans to consent to a petition to the King and the Assembly asking them to recognise each sect as a separate organisation. This result, however, was not reached till the controversy had become so fierce that the rival theologians came to blows in the streets.
Maximilian was heartily disgusted with the whole proceeding. He saw his hope of union among the Bohemian Protestants annihilated. He felt that he had injured his position with the Catholics by the concessions which he had already made; and he was further irritated that the Assembly should waste its time in these theological discussions, when he was wanting it to consider the acceptance of his son Rudolf as the future king of Bohemia, and to vote money for the Turkish war. He laid the chief blame of these failures upon the Brothers, who had resisted the new Confession, and on the towns, which had always made difficulties about the Turkish vote; and he sent down orders to the governors to suppress the meetings of the Brotherhood, and to forbid the towns to introduce any novelties. He even went so far as to order prosecutions of various Brothers for having attended meetings forbidden by the law; but, before these prosecutions could be carried out, this new policy was suddenly cut short by the death of Maximilian in 1576.
Few kings had more thoroughly disappointed the expectations formed of them than Maximilian II. had done; but, in a different way, his son Rudolf was to disappoint the hopes of the Catholics as completely as his father had done those of the Protestants. Brought up in Spain, and believed to be a strict Catholic in convictions, shy and repellent in manner, he seemed exactly the man to revive the reactionary policy of his grandfather. But in Rudolf, as in the majority of men, temperament and taste had a greater influence over his actions than either religious or political convictions. The same feelings which made him so repellent in general intercourse, led him also to shrink from the burdens of public life; and his fondness for art and science led him in the earlier part of his reign to leave politics to men of more active character. The interest, therefore, of this part of Rudolf’s reign, so far as his own influence is concerned, centres rather in the revival of literature and art, than in political or religious controversy. This revival was of a varied character, for it included not only poetry and history, but every kind of art and science. Carving, statuary, and mosaic work were brought to great perfection: while the presence of Tycho Brahe at Court shows the interest which Rudolf always maintained in astronomical science. The preference of the new Emperor for Prague as a place of residence naturally attracted all this brilliant company to the Bohemian Court; and it seemed as if, in this respect, the age of Charles IV. were to return.
At the same time, it should be noted that this revival, though generally connected with the name of Rudolf, had been already growing since the accession of Ferdinand. The greater security for life and property, which was gradually introduced by the House of Austria, had given more opportunity for quiet study than had been possible in the turbulent Bohemia of the fifteenth century; while the greater intercourse with foreign countries, which the renewed connection with the Empire had produced, naturally attracted a large number of foreign celebrities to the Court of Prague.
The reign of Ferdinand had been marked by the works of two most picturesque though untrustworthy historians—Wenceslaus Hajek of Libocany, and Dubravsky, better known as Dubravius, the Bishop of Olmütz; while Matthæus Collinus of Choterina called out an interest in the study of the great Greek and Latin authors, who had till then been rather neglected. The interest felt by Maximilian and Rudolf in the revival of poetry was much keener than that of Ferdinand; though they both, doubtless, stunted more than one poetical intellect by the absurd practice of turning poets into nobles, and crowning them as Court Laureates. A more curious result of this revival, considering the origin and sympathies of the ruling House, was the steady development of the Bohemian language during this period. Dictionaries and other scientific works were produced; and Daniel Adam, who was Professor of History at Prague in the time of Maximilian, was said to have done much to bring the language to great perfection. Nor did Maximilian and Rudolf fail to encourage scientific discovery. Thaddæus Hajek, who had studied, not only at Prague, but also at Vienna and Bologna, actually discovered a new star in 1572; and he showed himself so far in advance of his age, that he used his learning to expose and ridicule the astrological speculations which were then so popular.
It might be expected, perhaps, that all this stirring of thought and life would be favourable to the revival of civic and religious liberty; and some of the men who were eminent in the literature and art of the time did take an active part in the struggles at the beginning of the seventeenth century. But a power had arisen in Bohemia, which continued steadily to gain ground during the reign of Rudolf, that could turn even literature and art into the cause of opposition to reform. This was the Order of the Jesuits, which, since the time of Ferdinand, had been steadily gaining ground in Bohemia. They eagerly seized upon the literary and artistic revival, and made use of it for their own purposes. George Bartold Pontanus, one of the poets who were crowned by Rudolf, fell into the hands of the Jesuits, and became one of their most eloquent preachers. William of Rosenberg, who was a great patron of the Order, founded an institution for poor scholars, which must have greatly forwarded the Catholic reaction. Even students of languages, and men engaged in foreign discoveries, were made use of by the Order. Moreover their great power then, as ever, was through the education of children. Many of these came from the poorest ranks, and were educated gratuitously by the Jesuits; and, through them, an influence was prepared which it was very difficult to resist. But the Jesuits were intended by Ignatius Loyola to be, before everything, a fighting body; and, as they looked round on the forces opposed to them in Bohemia, they speedily marked the Bohemian Brotherhood as the foemen most worthy of their steel.
The Utraquists, as already mentioned, had been reduced almost to impotence in the time of Ferdinand. The Lutherans, divided among themselves, weak in organisation, and without any hold on the feeling of Bohemia, were almost equally an object of contempt to the Jesuits; but in the Brotherhood they saw a power of organisation, a capacity for intense self-devotion, and great educational faculties, which made them dangerous rivals even to the followers of Loyola. Just at this time the Brothers had taken a step which, while infinitely to their own credit, had yet raised up against them enemies whom the Jesuits could easily call in as their allies. The Brotherhood, as already hinted, had found, even more than most religious communities, a perpetual difficulty in solving that painful problem of the proper relation of the Church to the World; for, while they would never consent to drift tamely into the conventional morality of a comfortable and generally accepted Church, they were yet continually forced to make concessions to the prejudices of the world around them, which endangered the spiritual life of their community. Their concessions in the matter of war had, as we have seen, driven from their ranks some of the stricter members of the Society at a very early stage of their history; and a difficulty which was an even greater vexation to the minds of the Brothers, was the relation between the Community and the nobles.
The original conception of the Brotherhood, as a Society of equals working in the main with their hands for their livelihood, had never been wholly lost sight of; and the clergy were still expected to support themselves largely by their own handiwork. But the necessity for protection against the continual outbursts of persecution from other sects had compelled the Brothers to accept the patronage of certain lords who were inclined to their doctrines. The most zealous of these noblemen desired a closer union with the Brotherhood than the position of outside patron could give them; and yet they were by no means willing to make that surrender of their rank and position which the rules of the Brotherhood required. The Brothers had not seen their way to exclude these aristocratic members from an entrance into the Community; and the difficulties of the position naturally increased, when the son or grandson of some zealous nobleman accepted the hereditary connection with the Brotherhood without any of the moral enthusiasm which had led his ancestor to join it. The opposition which the plebeian preachers of the Brotherhood encountered in their attempts to exercise a spiritual control over these aristocratic followers was of course specially great in a century when even champions of religious liberty claimed the right to dictate their creed to their tenants and dependants. Serfdom, it cannot too often be remembered, had gained a new footing in Bohemia at the close of the fifteenth century; and Krajek, in his championship of so eminent a Brother as Augusta, had insisted much on his right, as a feudal landlord, to protect his dependant against the King. In such a condition of society, it ought not to surprise us that the leaders of the Brotherhood may have sometimes seemed to wink at offences in the nobles which they condemned severely in their more plebeian members.
But there was a recuperative force in this Community which showed itself continually at critical moments, and, in 1578, the Bohemian nobility were startled by the news that the Brothers had expelled from their Society, for acts of immorality, two members of that very family of Krajek who had been the steadiest patrons of the Brotherhood. A fierce outburst of indignation and scorn followed; and the Bohemian nobles asked how “Chlapi” (serfs), like the leaders of the Brotherhood, could venture to deal thus with the members of a noble family? Nor was it only the protest of the nobles which showed how far the ideal of the Brothers transcended that of the rest of the Community. A Lutheran congregation at once invited one of the expelled Brothers to join their body, and urged upon him that such a step would be a fit revenge on the ungrateful Brotherhood.
The Jesuits saw their opportunity in the sudden unpopularity of the Brotherhood; and they pressed upon several of the nobles to expel these revolutionary heretics from their estates. The Chancellor, Vratislav of Pernstein, was one of those to whom the Jesuits made special advances; and they were able to influence him not only through his prejudices as a nobleman, but through his affection as a husband. Pernstein, like so many of the Bohemian nobles since their country had passed under the rule of the Hapsburgs, had married a Spanish lady; and these wives were, as a rule, zealous champions and obedient pupils of the Jesuits. Frau von Pernstein had a special influence, not only over her husband, but over many of the younger Bohemian women; and, with her help, the Jesuits succeeded in making many converts, even in that town of Litomys̆l where Augusta had once had so much influence. Both there and on other parts of the estate Pernstein now proceeded to close the meeting-houses of the Brothers, and he opened a Jesuit college on the site of their former labours. Adam of Neuhaus and William of Rosenberg carried out the same policy on their estates, and many other nobles followed their example. The Bishop of Olmütz, Stanislaus Pavlavsky, now hoped to rouse Rudolf to give active assistance to this movement. At the bishop’s request, the Emperor issued an order that no book should be sold in Moravia without Pavlavsky’s special permission; and, in order to secure the practical working of this prohibition, he decreed that not more than two printing-presses should be allowed at Olmütz.
At the same time a blow was aimed at the Brotherhood in a still more important part of their work. Ezrom Rüdiger, a leading Brother, had opened a school at Ivanc̆ic̆e, which had gained so high a reputation that men of other denominations sent their children to be taught by Rüdiger, and the managers of a rival Lutheran school in the city of Velké Mezir̆íc̆í attempted to decoy Rüdiger away by the offering of a higher salary. Of course these bribes had failed of their effect, and a decree had been obtained by the Jesuits for the closing of both these schools. This order, however, had been disregarded; and Rüdiger had gained further reputation by defending the Brotherhood against the attacks of the leader of another sect. This controversy, however, gave a handle to the Bishop of Olmütz, and he denounced both Rüdiger and his opponent to Rudolf as disturbers of the peace. A warrant was sent down for the arrest of Rüdiger, and about the same time Herr von Pernstein imprisoned two of the Brothers on his own Moravian estates.
But now, as in the time of Ferdinand, attempts at persecution, which had succeeded in Bohemia, broke down before the opposition of the Moravian Estates. At the meeting of the Moravian Assembly, the Bishop of Olmütz was so roughly treated by his colleagues, that he left Brünn before the meeting was over. The two clergy on the Pernstein lands were released. Rüdiger, who had taken refuge with Frederick of Z̆erotin, was allowed to submit his case to the Moravian Estates; and the Assembly not only disregarded the Edict about the books and the printing, but passed a vote of censure on those who had made attacks on the Brotherhood. This and other failures soon persuaded the leaders of the Catholic reaction that they had little hope of support from the Emperor; and the Jesuits were forced to carry on their struggles through the help of individual noblemen.
But, in 1592, even this form of propagandism encountered an unexpected obstacle. In that year William of Rosenberg died, and his nephew, Peter Vok von Rosenberg, succeeded to the estates. He had gained some distinction as a soldier under Ferdinand and Maximilian; but soon after Maximilian’s death he had married Caterina of Ludanic, a member of the family of that Wenceslaus of Ludanic who had defended the rights of the Brotherhood and the liberties of Moravia against Ferdinand. Under her influence Peter Vok rapidly drifted to Calvinism; and in 1582 he had formally joined the Brotherhood. On coming into his estates he soon gave signs of his change of creed; and, as a first step, he so harassed the Jesuits of the college which his uncle had founded at Krumov, that they left that town and fled to Neuhaus. About the same time, George of Lobkovic, another champion of the Jesuits, was deprived of his office by Rudolf for fraudulent use of his power; and, his estates being forfeited to the Crown, Rudolf handed them over to a man whom he supposed to be a zealous Catholic, but who soon proved to be a friend and favourer of the Lutherans. Thus, then, a general struggle was going on throughout Bohemia, which, from the apparent indifference of the Emperor, was tending more and more to loosen the bonds of the central government, and was in many cases leading to open acts of violence and disorder. But, just as the sixteenth century was closing on this condition of things, a series of events occurred which roused the Emperor from his lethargy, and produced a complete change in the course of Bohemian history.
However indifferent Rudolf might have seemed to his duties as King of Bohemia, he was as anxious as most of his predecessors had been to maintain his ground in Hungary both against Turks and rebels. And during the closing years of the sixteenth century he had gained new hopes of success in the struggle, from the submission which was at last offered to him by the Prince of Transylvania. Unfortunately, however, for Rudolf, the cruelty of his general, Basta, produced such disorders in the newly conquered province, that the Transylvanians rose against the Emperor, joined themselves to the discontented nobles of Hungary, and once more called in the Turks, who gained several victories over the Imperial forces. Rudolf, like his predecessors, had been irritated at the opposition which had been offered by the various Assemblies of the Bohemian kingdom to his continual demands for money for the Turkish war; and this opposition had been greatly increased by his attempt to extend the powers of that Hof-Kammer which had been instituted by Ferdinand. That body, no longer contented with inquiring into the debts and credits of the king, now wished to pry into the incomes of his subjects, and even to make its own arrangements for the collecting of taxes. These encroachments were naturally resented by the Bohemians; and the continual friction thus produced roused Rudolf to more energetic action.
Nor were the differences with his subjects and the danger from the Turk the only causes of this apparent change of disposition in the sluggish Emperor. The Austrian Archdukes had noticed the growing disorders in Bohemia, as well as the neglect by Rudolf of the affairs of the Empire; and, on further inquiries, they found evidence that much of this neglect was due to the strange state of mind into which the Emperor was falling. That shy and melancholy disposition which had led him, in the early part of his reign, to withdraw so much from public life, was now ripening into a condition of morbid suspicion which had in it a strong taint of insanity. It is a curious sign of the extent to which superstition affected even great minds in the sixteenth century, that this tendency in Rudolf was largely encouraged by a prophecy of the great Danish astronomer, Tycho Brahe. The recent murder of Henry III. of France by the monk, Jacques Clément, had impressed the imagination both of the Emperor and the astronomer; and the latter had prophesied that the same fate which had overtaken the French king also awaited Rudolf. This prophecy had increased the Emperor’s tendency to morbid suspicion, and had led him still further to withdraw from the public gaze. The Archdukes now inclined to believe that the only hope for good government was in the removal of Rudolf from power, and the substitution of his brother Matthias on the thrones of Bohemia and Hungary and Austria. Rudolf resented this proposal with all the fierceness of a half crazy man; and this interference of his brothers, combined with the advance of the Turks into Hungary, determined him to adopt a new policy.
Both in Hungary and Bohemia he saw, or believed, that the Protestants were the main cause of the opposition to his power. He knew that in the kingdom of Bohemia they had continually resisted his decrees; and he believed them to be the prime movers of the Hungarian insurrections. Therefore, in 1602, he suddenly revived the old decree of Ladislaus which commanded the suppression of all sects in Bohemia. In pursuance of this decree, the chief meeting-house of the Bohemian Brotherhood in Mláda Boleslav was closed; and Cardinal Dietrichstein began a regular persecution of the Protestants.
In 1604 the same policy was extended to Hungary; and when the Hungarians endeavoured to protest, Rudolf issued a decree that all who tried to bring forward religious grievances in the Hungarian Assembly should be treated as disorderly persons. Thereupon the Hungarians rose in insurrection, and chose as their leader Stephen Bocksay, a Transylvanian nobleman. Rudolf’s inability to provide payment for his troops soon produced a mutiny among them; Bocksay succeeded, not only in conquering Transylvania, but in overrunning Hungary, and at last entering Moravia. Bocksay had hoped to persuade the Moravian Estates to join him in defending the cause of civil and religious liberty. This the Moravians were unwilling to do, as they hoped to come to terms with Rudolf. But the unpopularity of Cardinal Dietrichstein, and the cruelties of Rudolf’s German troops, gradually weakened the sympathies of the Moravians for their king; and in the general state of misery and confusion which followed, two movements began to be developed for the counteraction of Rudolf’s policy—movements widely different in character and methods, but both intended to promote the cause of civil and religious liberty—and each of them finding its ablest and most earnest supporter in a member of the Bohemian Brotherhood.
Of these the first to ripen into action was the movement which had its centre in Moravia, and its best and ablest champion in Charles of Z̆erotin. The life of this nobleman was a striking illustration of that effort after compromise, which has already been spoken of as so characteristic of the Brotherhood—an effort which makes it so interesting to the student of human nature, and which enabled it to gain so great an influence in the history of its country; though it produced a somewhat disappointing effect, if one looks to the Brotherhood for the highest embodiment of Christian life.
The Z̆erotin family had long been established in Moravia, and had had many claims to distinction, especially on the battlefield. They had eagerly adopted the cause of Hus, and boasted that, since that time, they had never had a Roman Catholic in their family. They had accepted the principles of the Brotherhood, so far as they were consistent with noble rank and the military profession; and John of Z̆erotin, the father of Charles, had played as prominent a part in Moravia, in the character of protector of the poorer Brothers, as Conrad of Krajek had played in Bohemia. He had fallen under the influence of Blahoslav, and had imbibed something of his zeal for learning and his keenly patriotic feelings. Charles had been sent, as a boy, to study at Strasburg, Basel, and Geneva; and his interest in the foreign Protestant communities had led him to desire that they should unite to resist the encroachments of Rome and Spain. He submitted strictly to the rules of the Brotherhood in the choice of a wife, not venturing to ask in marriage the lady whom he had chosen, till he had consulted the bishop and other leading members of the Brotherhood. In his zeal for resistance to the power of Spain, he assisted Henry of Navarre in his war against the Catholic League. But his disgust at the profligacy of Henry’s court ripened into absolute disapproval of the cause, when Henry was received back into the Catholic Church. Soon after this event Z̆erotin took service under the Archduke Matthias in the war against the Turks; and thus he gained the favour of Rudolf, and obtained an appointment in the Land Court of Moravia. Here he soon found that Cardinal Dietrichstein and Ladislaus of Berka were making great efforts to strengthen the power of the Jesuits in Moravia, and to weaken the influence of the Protestants. Just at the time when Charles of Z̆erotin began to devote himself to the local government of Moravia, Charles of Lichtenstein, a member of an old Protestant family of Moravia, was converted to the Catholic faith; and soon after this Dietrichstein was chosen Bishop of Olmütz.
It will be remembered that the last Bishop had made ineffectual attempts to suppress the freedom of the press, and to crush out Protestantism. But Dietrichstein was so far from being warned by this failure that he speedily set himself to restore a clause in the oath administered to the officials in the Land Court, which recognised as necessary the worship of the Virgin and the Saints. Z̆erotin soon became recognised as the opponent of the new Bishop; and once again comes to the front the ever-reviving question of the Bohemian language. Dietrichstein had been brought up in Spain, and spoke Spanish by preference; and though he could on occasion speak German, he had very little knowledge of Bohemian. Z̆erotin declared that if Dietrichstein was to be allowed to take his seat in the Land Court of Moravia, he must speak the language of that country; and the Cardinal in vain attempted to overrule this decision, and to obtain a hearing in German.
This struggle took place at the time when Rudolf was gradually resolving on a more oppressive policy; and Dietrichstein succeeded in bringing against Z̆erotin charges of treason, which induced the Emperor to summon him to Prague. His support of Henry IV., whom Rudolf considered his enemy; his sympathy with the Count Palatine of the Rhine, who was already suspected of aiming at the Bohemian crown; and his refusal, in deference to the religious principles of the Brotherhood, to drink the Emperor’s health at a banquet, were all brought forward by Dietrichstein in proof of the charge; and the evident sympathy of the Moravian Estates for Z̆erotin was not likely to make him more welcome to the Emperor. When, indeed, Z̆erotin was tried for these offences in 1601, he was acquitted on all the charges against him; but when Rudolf revived the enactment of Ladislaus against the sects, Z̆erotin was deprived of his office.
He now, for a time, retired from public life, and devoted himself to the study of theology and the education of young noblemen. But his study of Calvinism, and his continual correspondence with those who still maintained their interest in politics, prepared him for a return to public life. At the time of the invasion of Bocksay, Z̆erotin’s sympathies had been somewhat divided. He was, of course, zealous for religious freedom; and he had a warm personal friendship for Stephen Illyezhazy, a leading Hungarian Protestant, who had great influence in Bocksay’s councils; but, on the other hand, he must have strongly disliked the Turkish alliance; and he had a great personal loyalty to the House of Hapsburg.
Under these circumstances, the hopes of Z̆erotin were more and more directed to the proposal for putting forward Matthias in the place of Rudolf. This arrangement would secure the crown of Bohemia to the House of Hapsburg, and would gain for the oppressed Protestants a leader who might protect them at once against Rudolf and against the Turk. Z̆erotin’s Hungarian friend, Illyezhazy, was willing to accept this policy; and even Lichtenstein, though a Catholic, consented to act with the Protestant leaders in their championship of the candidature of Matthias. As Rudolf still resisted any proposal for compromise, the Archdukes decided to give power to Matthias to act as their chief in Hungary and elsewhere; and he succeeded in making peace with Bocksay, by granting to the Hungarians full religious freedom and the election of their own Palatine. Rudolf, however, though he had been compelled to recognise Matthias as his general in Hungary, refused to consent to the terms of peace; and the miseries of Moravia were increased by the cruelties of the troops sent to protect them, by the difficulties which Dietrichstein and Berka threw in the way of order, and by the unwillingness of Rudolf to take any decided action of a useful character.
At last, therefore, in December, 1607, a meeting took place at Z̆erotin’s castle in Rosice, to which he invited, not only his Moravian friends, but also the Hungarian Illyezhazy, and the leader of the Protestants in Upper Austria, George Erasmus von Tschernembl. They resolved to insist on the enforcement of the terms of peace in Hungary; and they demanded that the princes of the Empire should compel Rudolf to confirm the concessions of Matthias. Rudolf became alarmed, and prepared to suppress the movement by force of arms. Ladislaus von Berka persuaded the forces of General Tilly to come secretly into Moravia and concentrate themselves near Brünn (Brno). On March 7, 1608, the Land Court of Moravia held its sittings; and, on the night before its meetings, Tilly’s troops were secretly introduced into the town. The champions of Moravian liberty were, however, on the watch; and, when the Land Court assembled, Carl von Lichtenstein suddenly entered it, at the head of sixty armed men, informed Berka of the introduction of the foreign soldiers, and demanded that, before they proceeded to further business, the Moravian nobles should take into consideration the defence of their country. Berka declared that there was no danger, and demanded that they should proceed to the ordinary business of the court; whereupon Lichtenstein and his friends denounced Berka as a traitor, drove him from the court, and sent fifty of the young nobles to guard the streets against the foreign troops.
But the old rivalry between the nobles and the towns suddenly showed itself at this crisis. The Town Council of Brünn refused to support the lords in their action; and, when the lords adjourned to Ivanc̆ic̆e, the leading Moravian towns refused to send representatives to their discussions. Rudolf now summoned to Brünn the regular Assembly of the Moravian Estates; but he forbade them to consider any propositions, except those which should be laid before them by the royal Commissioners. Z̆erotin, however, protested so strongly against this limitation, that the commissioners left Brünn without being able to get their propositions considered.
Z̆erotin now looked about for further allies in the struggle, and thereby became aware of the very different schemes which were being formed against the power of Rudolf. The Brotherhood had already shown an inclination to an alliance with the German Calvinistic princes, and particularly with the Elector Palatine of the Rhine; and they had excited some alarm, in 1577, by consenting to send representatives to a meeting of the Calvinists at Heidelberg. Z̆erotin had maintained a personal friendship with the Elector Palatine; but the policy of that Court was now being largely guided and controlled by a prince of another house, whose zeal for religious liberty was mixed with motives of a very different character. This was Christian, Prince of Anhalt, the most prominent and active of the Calvinistic leaders of Germany, whose restless personal ambition seemed almost to overshadow his zeal for Protestantism; and who might be considered one of the chief causes of the ruin of Bohemian independence and the miseries of the Thirty Years War. His great aim was to overthrow the House of Hapsburg; and he would have been willing, for that purpose, to absorb Bohemia and Hungary in the German Empire. Z̆erotin, though at first willing to negotiate with Christian as the leader of the German Protestants, soon found that his aims and those of that prince were totally opposed. For the present, however, everything was subordinated to the determination of the champions of constitutional liberty to combine against Rudolf.
The meeting took place at Ivanc̆ic̆e, in spite of the opposition of the Emperor and Berka. Berka was deprived of his captaincy; a provisional government was established; and Charles of Lichtenstein was called upon to act as provisional Dictator. In proposing Lichtenstein, Z̆erotin was actuated partly by political, partly by religious, considerations. As a statesman, Z̆erotin felt that it was necessary to win the support of men of all creeds, by putting the question of orderly constitutional government before the question of religious liberty; and he therefore preferred the choice of a Roman Catholic leader. But this political instinct was strengthened by a religious scruple, which showed the strong hold that the doctrine of the Brotherhood still maintained over Z̆erotin. He was still convinced that war in defence of his country or of constitutional government might be justified; but, as a follower of Peter of Chelc̆ic̆, he could not admit that it was lawful to stain the cause of religious liberty by the shedding of blood. This scruple, however, did not diminish his sense of the necessity of vigorous action. The leaders of the meeting at Ivanc̆ic̆e resisted Rudolf’s attempts to disperse them, commanded Tilly to leave the country, and succeeded in rousing such a feeling among the Moravians of the poorer towns, that the Town Councils were overborne; and, with the exception of Olmütz, all the towns declared themselves on the constitutional side. Finally, the Assembly sent an invitation to Matthias, to ask him to undertake the government; and they hastened to Znojem to greet him on his arrival.
But, although Z̆erotin had succeeded in effecting an alliance between Moravia, Hungary, and Austria, he had not yet succeeded in winning to his side the leaders of the Bohemian Assembly; and it was in his attempts to form this union that he was encountered by the opposition of another member of the Brotherhood, who followed a tradition somewhat different from Z̆erotin’s. This was Wenceslaus Budovĕc of Budova, a leader among the Knights in the Assembly. He, like Z̆erotin, had studied much in foreign countries, and had gained such favour with Rudolf, that he had obtained a place on his Council. He soon became prominent in the Assembly; and, on the issue of Rudolf’s new decree against the Protestants, he led the opposition to it in the Assembly. He was unwilling, however, to proceed to any extreme measures at first; and he even consented to vote the tax demanded by Rudolf, without making the repeal of the decree a condition precedent to the vote. He pointed out that, since the setting aside of the Compacts of Basel, there was no further pretence for saying that the Utraquists were the only non-Catholics who were entitled to toleration. He dwelt on the services done by the Brotherhood in the Turkish war; and he succeeded in carrying a petition for the repeal of the decree; but before the petition could be presented, Rudolf dissolved the Assembly, and summoned Budovĕc before him. Budovĕc maintained that he had only exercised his lawful privilege as a Bohemian knight; and Rudolf thought it better to dismiss him for a time.
Budovĕc now entered into friendly relations with Z̆erotin; but, when the latter urged him to support the candidature of Matthias, Budovĕc maintained that it was more advisable to appeal again to Rudolf. His reasons may be easily imagined. Matthias, like Rudolf, was a Roman Catholic; and his chief adviser was Khlesl, Bishop of Vienna, who was by no means inclined to measures of toleration. It was true that Matthias had granted liberties to the Protestants of Hungary; but it was by no means certain that, if he were suffered to dictate his terms to Bohemia and Moravia at the point of the sword, backed by the whole support of his family, he might then grant equal liberties to them. Budovĕc therefore preferred to see what the Protestants could gain from Rudolf when under the fear of Matthias’s advance, rather than to trust to what Matthias would do if he came as a conqueror. When, then, Matthias, at the head of a Moravian, Austrian, and Hungarian army, marched into Bohemia, Budovĕc and his friends declared their willingness to stand by Rudolf.
When, on May 19, 1608, Rudolf, for the first time for many years, met the Assembly of Bohemia, Budovĕc at once demanded that, as Rudolf had already made concessions to the Protestants of Hungary, he should now grant the liberties required by the Protestants of Bohemia. The Bohemian Confession of 1575 was to be recognised. Defenders were to be chosen to protect the interests of the Protestants. Offices were to be granted in equal proportion to Protestants and Catholics. No foreigners were to be allowed to manage Bohemian affairs. And, above all, no one of any rank was to be interfered with in matters of religious liberty. The importance of this last clause is not perhaps easy to realise in our time; for, in fact, this is one of the very first assertions of the rights of all men to religious liberty. Although it is probable that expressions may have been often used which, if logically interpreted, would have involved principles of the most complete spiritual independence, yet both in Germany and Bohemia the maxim “Cujus regio ejus religio,” had always been accepted as the legal and natural rule in religious affairs.
In Bohemia, as already mentioned, the condition of the peasantry had become more dependent during the 16th century; and, in 1585, the Estates had distinctly forbidden servants to leave their masters for the purpose of entering trades, unless with the written permission of those masters. The struggle described above, in the earlier years of Rudolf’s reign, had been mainly a struggle between landed proprietors; and even a lady, who professed allegiance to the Brotherhood, had so far misunderstood their doctrines as to drive a Utraquist preacher from her estates, and to compel her peasantry to attend the sermons of a member of the Brotherhood. The principle, therefore, which Budovĕc asserted, was emphatically a new one; and he connected it, as will be seen, with appeals to the national feeling of Bohemia.
Besides the revival of the old and often repeated claim for the exclusion of foreigners from Bohemian offices, the petitioners emphasised their national position by a reference to the memories of their last national king. They demanded that the sword and crown which had been taken from the statue of King George, in the Teyn Church, should at once be restored to it. On this point alone Rudolf yielded. To the other demands he refused to give an immediate answer. Yet even this failure could not at once induce the Bohemian Estates to abandon the cause of Rudolf for that of a prince who was invading Bohemia at the head of a Hungarian army. This feeling was shared by the peasantry of Bohemia; and several collisions took place between them and the soldiers of Matthias.
But, though Matthias could not succeed in the conquest of Bohemia, Rudolf, on his part, was unable to defend or recover the rest of his hereditary dominions; nor is it probable that Budovĕc and his friends were at all prepared to engage in a war against their fellow-Protestants in Moravia, Hungary, and Austria. Rudolf, therefore, after vainly attempting a compromise, consented to renounce Hungary and Austria in favour of Matthias, and to allow him to administer Moravia during his lifetime. Matthias thereupon evacuated Bohemia; but Rudolf’s resistance was not yet at an end. He resented bitterly both the loss of his territories and the demands of the Bohemian Protestants; and, as he was not yet able to take any steps to recover his lost lands, he proceeded to turn his bitterness against Budovĕc and his allies.
In this course he was encouraged by three councillors, who were to play a memorable part in the history of Bohemia—the Chancellor Lobkovic and the ministers Slavata and Martinic. The first proposal of the Emperor was not merely to reject the petition of the Protestants, but to treat their agreement to stand by each other as a conspiracy; and he demanded that the document which contained the agreement should be handed to him to be destroyed. The Protestants chose a Committee of Twelve to remonstrate with Rudolf on this demand; and at the head of that committee they placed a man who was to become only too well known in Bohemian history, Count Matthias of Thurn. They waited on the King with the document for which he had asked, but told him that they had only produced it that he might know the names of his faithful subjects. Rudolf seems, for the moment, to have been impressed with this protest, and consented not to destroy the petition.
Budovĕc, however, and his friends were determined on using their opportunity to the utmost; and they were all the more eager in their pressure, because they found that the official leader of the Assembly, Adam of Sternberg, was entirely out of sympathy with their efforts, and that he was continually endeavouring, on the one hand, to make divisions between the Utraquists, the Lutherans, and the Brotherhood; while, on the other hand, he represented the Assembly to the Emperor as really willing to accept as satisfactory the offers which they in reality repudiated. The difficulties, which might have arisen from this latter part of Sternberg’s policy, were obviated by the attitude of uncompromising resistance which was taken up by Lobkovic, Slavata, and Martinic. At last, on the advice of these councillors, Rudolf decided to dissolve the Assembly. Then Budovĕc saw that the time for constitutional agitation was nearly over; and on April 1, 1609, he gathered his friends together, and gave notice to the chief Burggraf of Prague that they were resolved to use force to resist all injustice.
Although they were now obviously compelled to accept, in some respects, that leadership of Matthias which they had previously opposed, the Bohemian Protestants were not yet prepared to rely wholly on the King of Hungary. The Estates of Silesia and Lausitz, though largely in sympathy with the Protestant movement, had agreed with the Bohemians, in the previous year, in refusing to repudiate Rudolf. The Silesians were now ready to follow the Bohemians in their more determined policy; and the Bohemians, on their part, were disposed to strengthen this alliance, by granting to Silesia that position of independent equality which they had hitherto refused. A league was therefore formed between the Bohemian and Silesian Assemblies, of such a kind as might have been agreed upon between two independent Powers; and the Silesians were ready enough to co-operate under these circumstances.
But it was not only on their immediate neighbours that the Bohemians relied. They appealed also to the Protestant princes of Germany, both Lutheran and Calvinistic; and from them, too, they received encouraging answers. It was now evident that both sides were within a measurable distance of war; but it was also clear that Rudolf might still have a chance of preventing the insurrection from actually breaking out, by dividing the forces of his opponents, and depriving the movement of any legal centre. For greater security, the Assembly were now meeting in the Council House of the New Town of Prague; and Rudolf, therefore, ordered the Councillors of that part of the town to exclude the Assembly from their hall. The Town Council pleaded that they had given their promise, and were obliged to abide by it; but the Estates offered to meet even in the Castle itself, if a room were provided for them; and when Rudolf refused their proposal, they gathered in the open place between All Saints’ Church and the cathedral. There Rudolf came to them, and rebuked them for continuing to meet. They answered by requesting him to summon a General Assembly, which should represent not only Bohemia, but all its dependent provinces. After some hesitation, Rudolf consented to this proposal; but, as he persisted in forbidding the Estates to hold any meetings in the interval, they returned to their former position in the Council House of the New Town.
Adam von Sternberg had now been practically thrust aside by the Assembly; and Budovĕc was recognised not only as their actual but also as their official leader. He impressed on the movement that zealously religious character which the Brotherhood always endeavoured to maintain. He always opened the proceedings with prayer, and sternly repressed all immorality or disorder among the followers of the nobles, who were now flocking into the town. The Assembly felt that the use of physical force could not be much longer avoided; they attended the meetings ready armed; and on one occasion, when an attack from the king’s forces was expected, even the workmen hastened into the square and brandished their tools for the fray.
In the meantime the appeals of the Assembly for foreign help had been producing their effect. Matthias, indeed, seemed for a time unwilling to press his victories further, and declined to interfere between Rudolf and the Estates; but the German princes were so zealous in their appeals to the Emperor to make concessions, that he seemed at last disposed to set aside the opinion of his more fiery Councillors, and he summoned a General Assembly for the 25th of May, 1609. No sooner, however, did the Assembly meet, than Lobkovic recovered his former influence over the Emperor; and Rudolf began to hope that he might make divisions between the Catholics and Protestants. On the other hand, the demands of the Protestants appear to have grown more extreme at this time; for they not only required the free profession of their creed and the right to build churches, but they also insisted that the University of Prague and the Utraquist Consistory should be placed under the control of the Estates.
This last demand excited more interest than the fallen condition of Utraquism might have led one to expect. But traditions of former greatness have an incalculable influence; and many of the Protestants believed that the failure of Utraquism had been due as much to the control which the king exercised over the Consistory as to any internal weakness. Therefore the Assembly’s demand for control over the Consistory excited considerable sympathy among all classes of Protestants. Rudolf, while unwilling to surrender his power in this matter, was yet willing to propose a compromise, to the effect that the Consistory should be managed by a special tribunal composed half of Protestants and half of Catholics. As, however, he no doubt intended that these should be appointed by himself, the Assembly considered this answer as a complete rejection of their proposal; and on June 22, 1609, the Estates resolved, on the motion of Count Thurn, to make arrangements for the arming of the whole population. Their indignation was still further roused by the oppression inflicted on the Protestants of Braunau by the abbot of that town; and the resolution for universal arming was soon followed by the election of thirty Defenders for carrying on the struggle.
It is a curious proof of the aristocratic influences which still prevailed in the Assembly, that Peter Vok of Rosenberg was the first Defender chosen. He had been the only prominent Bohemian who had sympathised with Matthias’s invasion of Bohemia; and, though he had not supported him by force of arms, he had supplied money to his troops. Apart also from this difference of policy, Rosenberg must have been a distasteful ally to the stricter Protestants, on account of his profligate life. Other names of powerful families also appear in the list, and at the same time Count Thurn was made general of the forces.
The Protestants now withdrew from their attendance at the Assembly; Count Thurn quickly gathered five hundred men together in three days; the alliance with the Silesians was formally confirmed; and application was made to Christian of Anhalt for further help.
Rudolf, alarmed at these proceedings, was yet further startled by the news that Matthias had just granted to the Austrian Assembly all its demands for religious freedom. Moreover he found that the Roman Catholic part of the Assembly, which had at first been disposed to resist Budovĕc, were now ready to make terms with the Protestants. He therefore declared his willingness to accept the proposals of the Assembly on three conditions: (1) That they would substitute “Utraquist” for “Evangelical” in their description of the Protestants; (2) that they would accept the present concessions as a provisional arrangement, until the general peace could be made with the Protestants; and (3) that they would abandon the proposal for universal arming. Budovĕc answered by accepting the two first conditions; but he declared that the Defenders could not consent, at present, to lay down their arms without special authority from the Estates, and special sanction from the Silesians. Even this refusal Rudolf was obliged to accept; and on the 9th of July he signed the Letter of Majesty which practically decreed the points demanded by the Protestants. For the moment it seemed as if the victory of religious freedom was complete; for while, on the one hand, the power of the Estates was extended over the University and the Consistory, and was still supported by an armed force, on the other hand the concession of religious liberty was no longer confined to communities or privileged classes, but extended to every man and woman in the Bohemian kingdom.
Nevertheless, the apparent peace was a very hollow one. Christian of Anhalt, arriving in Prague very shortly after this decision, was at first somewhat startled to find the matter settled without his intervention; but he soon discovered that neither Rudolf nor the Assembly were satisfied. Budovĕc and his friends were eager to follow up their victory by securing the removal of Lobkovic from the councils of Rudolf, while they wished to guard themselves against future attacks by an amnesty for any offences committed during the struggle. Rudolf, on his part, while conceding the amnesty, tried hard to throw difficulties in the way of the complete equality between Protestants and Catholics; and he further hoped to stir up division between the different sections of the Protestants. Had Rudolf been left to himself, these intrigues might have proved the mere fitful caprices of a weak mind, and might have been followed by equally startling concessions. But he had now fallen into the hands of a much more daring and unscrupulous adviser than any who had hitherto swayed his counsels.
This was his young kinsman, the Archduke Leopold, who had stood by him when the rest of the family had demanded his submission to Matthias, and who now flattered him with the hopes of recovering his power in Bohemia. Leopold seems, from first to last, to have been as self-seeking in his objects as he was unscrupulous in his methods. His first wish was to secure for himself that province of Jülich which was the subject of so much controversy between several of the Protestant princes, and which Leopold had been allowed by Rudolf to occupy in the Emperor’s name. Soon, however, he discovered that his hopes of Jülich would be frustrated even by Powers to whom he had looked for support; and, from that time, he fixed his hopes on the succession to the Bohemian crown. Rudolf, while listening to the violent proposals of Leopold, was anxious to secure, if possible, the recovery of the lands which Matthias had conquered; and for that recovery he expected help from the discontented Austrian Protestants and from some of the princes of the Empire. He therefore summoned a Convention of princes to Prague, and distinctly demanded the restoration to him of Austria, Hungary, and Moravia.
The times were terribly critical. The occupation of Donauwörth by the Elector of Bavaria, the controversy about the succession to Jülich, the formation of the Protestant Union by Christian of Anhalt, and of the Catholic League by Maximilian of Bavaria, all seemed to point to an approaching war in the Empire; while the military preparations which Henry IV. was making in France foreshadowed a European character for any conflict that might take place. Under these circumstances, however, the wiser statesmen in the Empire were anxious to minimise the evil as far as possible, and to make efforts for the preservation of peace.
Foremost among the peacemakers was the Archbishop of Köln; but unfortunately he was too much in advance of his age to produce the results which a more commonplace politician might have accomplished. He proposed a scheme of universal disarmament, and he suggested the reference of the Jülich controversy to the arbitration of the Universities. These proposals were cut short by a new outbreak of war between some of the claimants to the Jülich estate; while the assassination of Henry IV. once more raised the hopes of Rudolf and his friends, and made them disinclined to concession. But others besides the Archbishop of Köln desired to reconcile Rudolf to Matthias; and in spite of evasions and resistances, Rudolf was forced, in September, 1610, to recognise his brother as holding under him the lands of Hungary, Moravia, and Austria.
This concession was, if possible, even less honest in intention than the confirmation of the Letter of Majesty had been; for the coldness with which he had been treated by the princes of the Empire had made Rudolf even more inclined than before to throw himself into the dangerous plans of the Archduke Leopold. Even while the Convention of Princes was sitting and the negotiations with Matthias were proceeding, Leopold was raising troops in the Bavarian district of Passau, and by the time that the agreement was concluded this force had grown to a considerable size. Peter Vok of Rosenberg had called attention to the danger incurred by his town of Krumov through the neighbourhood of these soldiers; and the Bohemian Assembly demanded that, since peace had now been made, this force should be disbanded. Rudolf pleaded that he could not yet dismiss them, because he had no money for the payment of their wages; and he proposed that, to secure them better quarters, they should be sent to Krumov and Budweis (Budejóvice). The Bohemian Assembly indignantly protested against the introduction of foreign troops into their country, and they refused to vote any money for their support.
Rudolf thereupon appealed to the Duke of Brunswick to advance him money; and the Duke succeeded in getting various promises which soon amounted to the sum required. When he arrived at Passau, he found that Leopold and several of the other commanders had left for Prague; that Colonel Ramée, who was in command, would not listen to proposals of delay; and that the paymaster of the forces was being hindered from receiving the money which had been raised for the troops. At last, when the soldiers had been worked up to a state of frenzy by the non-fulfilment of the promises of payment, Ramée suddenly led them into Upper Austria, where they committed every kind of cruelty on the defenceless inhabitants. Rudolf had cherished the wild hope that the discontent of the Austrian Protestants with Matthias would make them willing to revolt from him; but he soon found that, whatever might be their disagreements with their present ruler, they at any rate preferred him to Rudolf. So, after failing to obtain any success in Austria, Leopold suddenly changed his plans; and in February, 1611, the Bohemian Assembly were startled by the news that the Passau forces had entered Bohemia, had seized Krumov, and had soon after captured Budejóvice and Tabor. A little later came the news that Ramée was on his march to Prague.
Leopold offered to go out to meet the troops, and to order them to return to Krumov; but on February 13th he suddenly reappeared before Prague at the head of the very forces that he had pretended to disband. Two days later they broke into the Small Division of the town; and, though gallantly resisted by Count Thurn at the head of both soldiers and citizens, Leopold succeeded in mastering that division of the city. But in the Old and New Town the citizens rallied and drove back the Passauer. The old fierce spirit now awoke in Prague; and, as soon as Leopold and his forces had been expelled from the Old Town, the citizens attacked and destroyed several of the monasteries; and the troops of the Assembly with difficulty succeeded in saving the Jesuit College from a similar fate. Leopold now marched against the Castle, and, after a short parley, persuaded the troops to surrender. A herald was next despatched to the Karlsbrücke to demand that the Old Town should receive a Passau garrison. Count Thurn and two of the other generals were wounded, and prisoners in the hands of the enemy; and Budovĕc had been sent into Moravia shortly before the advance of the Passauer. But though deprived of their leaders, both military and spiritual, the Praguer still held out against the enemy. The Imperial herald was dismissed with scorn; and when Ramée threatened to fire upon the town, several workmen announced that, at the first shot, every Catholic in the city should be put to death. Rudolf himself became shocked at the cruelties which had been committed, and refused to allow Ramée to set the town on fire. The peasantry flocked in from the surrounding districts to help in the defence; while they cut off and killed all the supporters of the Passauer whom they could find in the outskirts of the town. Budovĕc returned from Moravia at this crisis, and encouraged the Praguer by promises of fresh help, and it soon became known that Matthias was on his march to Prague.
Leopold, as cowardly as he was cruel, now proposed to desert the cause of Rudolf, and offered his services to Matthias. The latter, however, would have nothing to say to him; and Ramée, in his turn becoming alarmed, tried to make sure of his spoil by sending it in waggons out of the city. The Praguer, however, succeeded in intercepting these waggons, and in arresting, at the same time, one of Leopold’s intriguers. The prisoner at once confessed the whole plot; and Ramée, fearing the results of the discovery, secretly marched away from the city. In order to persuade his troops to go the more readily, he produced a portion of their long withheld pay. This suddenly revealed to them the base intrigue of which they had been at once the victims and the tools; and they called upon their colonel to lead them back to Prague, to execute vengeance on Leopold. Leopold however, succeeded in escaping secretly from the city, and went to Budejóvice, where he still hoped to make a stand; but when the Pope himself wrote to tell him that he had injured and disgraced the Catholic cause, the miserable creature felt the helplessness of his position, and tried to convince the Pope that he had been in no way responsible for the march of the Passauer.
In the meantime, Matthias was welcomed as a deliverer. On April 12, 1611, the Bohemian Assembly once more met; and, after some wrangling between the Estates of the different provinces, about the language to be used and the methods to be followed, they deposed Rudolf from the throne of Bohemia; and on May 22nd he himself consented to free his subjects from their allegiance, and to allow Matthias to be crowned in his place. Even now the unfortunate Emperor still hoped to redeem his position by fresh intrigues; and he seems actually to have entertained the idea of appealing to Christian of Anhalt, and the Protestants, against Matthias; but ill health, misfortunes, and growing old age interfered to cut short any further plots; and his miserable life at last ended in January, 1612.