Part 26
Before his time, the only artillery brought into the open field consisted of huge, heavy guns, slowly dragged along by twelve, sixteen, or twenty horses or oxen, which, once placed, could only remain in one position, even though the entire battle had shifted elsewhere. Gustavus was the first who introduced flying artillery, capable of being rapidly transferred from one part of the field to another. At a siege, this valiant Swedish king would in the same day “be at once generalissimo, chief engineer to lay out the lines, pioneer, spade in hand and in his shirt digging in the trenches, and leader of a storming party to dislodge the foe from some annoying outwork. If a party of the enemy’s cavalry were to be surprised in a night attack, he would himself undertake the surprise. He, indeed, carried this quite too far, obeying overmuch the instinct and impulses of his own courageous heart. And yet there was also a true humility in it all,—a feeling that no man ought to look at himself as indispensable. ‘God is immortal,’ he was wont to reply, when remonstrated with on this matter, and reminded of the fearful chasm, not to be filled by any other, which his death would assuredly leave.” Richelieu said of him, “The king of Sweden is a new sun which has just risen, young, but of vast renown. The ill-treated or banished princes of Germany in their misfortunes have turned their eyes towards him as the mariner does to the polar star.”
Gustavus was admitted by the ablest statesmen of Europe to be the ablest general of his time. He was familiar with the military tactics of ancient and modern times, and he devised a more effective system of warfare than his predecessors had known. In answer to the question, Why did Gustavus Adolphus enter into the religious contests of Germany, and assume the commanding place he filled in that terrible struggle known as the “Thirty Years’ War”? an able writer gives thus briefly the reason:—
“First, a deep and genuine sympathy with his co-religionists in Germany, and with their sufferings, joined to a conviction that he was called of God to assist them in this hour of their utmost need.
“Secondly, a sense of the most real danger which threatened his own kingdom, if the entire liberties, political and religious, of northern Germany were trodden out, and the free cities of the German Ocean, Stralsund and the rest, falling into the hands of the emperor, became hostile outposts from which to assail him. He felt that he was only going to meet a war which, if he tarried at home, would sooner or later inevitably come to seek him there.
“And, lastly, there was working in his mind, no doubt, a desire to give to Sweden a more forward place in the world, with a consciousness of mighty powers in himself, which craved a wider sphere for their exercise.”
In answer to John Skytte, who remarked that war put his monarchy at stake, he responded: “All monarchies have passed from one family to another. That which constitutes a monarchy is not men, it is the law.”
At length, in 1630, Gustavus landed on the island of Usedom, at the mouth of the Oder.
“So we have got another kingling on our hands,” the emperor exclaimed in scorn, when the news reached Vienna. Little did the enemies of the Reformation then imagine what a terrible and irresistible foe this despised “kingling” would prove to be. The army of Gustavus consisted of only fifteen thousand men; but, if his army was small, the material was indeed valuable. Gustavus said of his staff of officers, “All these are captains, and fit to command armies.” And when his early death left them without a leader, these same officers led the Swedish armies so successfully that, even after France had become her ally, Sweden was not obscured, but still held a prominent place in the mighty contest. Gustavus had determined not to hazard a battle until he was joined by German allies. As soon as they landed on the island of Usedom, Gustavus, having leaped first upon the shore, at once fell upon his knees, and sought the aid and blessing of God; and then the working and the praying went hand in hand. He was the first to seize a spade; and, as the troops landed, one half were employed in raising intrenchments, while the other half stood in battle array, to repel any attacks of the enemy. It was a long time before any German ally appeared; for, though gallant little Hesse Cassel boldly announced its allegiance, it was a power too small and too distant to count for much. The two most powerful of the German Protestant princes were his brother-in-law, the elector of Brandenburg, and the elector of Saxony. John George of Saxony was a great hunter, having killed with his own hand or seen killed 113,629 wild animals. He was, however, such a great drunkard that he was called the Beer King. But this bold Nimrod, who could fight wild animals so courageously, was too cowardly to come forward against the enemies of his country, and only joined Gustavus when the terrors of the Catholic league forced him to seek safety in such an alliance.
As to the brother-in-law of Gustavus, little was to be obtained from him. He was so vacillating in character and in politics that Carlyle says of him, “Poor man, it was his fate to stand in the range of these huge collisions, when the Titans were hurling rocks at one another, and he hoped by dexterous skipping to escape share of the game.”
The arrival of Gustavus Adolphus in Germany was at first looked upon with indifference by the imperial court. The emperor Ferdinand said carelessly, “We have another little enemy before us.” At Vienna they made sport of Gustavus and of his pretensions to require himself to be called “Your majesty,” like the other kings of Europe. “The snow-king will melt as he approaches the southern sun,” they exclaimed derisively. But the valiant Swedes worked on at their fortifications at Pomerania, indifferent to the sneers of their foes, inspired by the example of their loved leader, whose watchword was, “to pray often to God with all your heart is almost to conquer.” In a short time, the army was enclosed in an intrenched camp, defended by cannon. The king of Sweden then addressed these stirring words to his soldiers:—
“It is as much on your account as for your religious brethren in Germany that I have undertaken this war. You will there gather imperishable glory. You have nothing to fear from the enemy; they are the same whom you have already conquered in Prussia. Your bravery has imposed on Poland an armistice of six years; if you continue to fight as valiantly, I hope to obtain an honorable peace for your country and guaranties of security for the German Protestants. Old soldiers, it is not of yesterday you have known war; for you have shared with me all the chances of fortune. You must not lose courage if you experience some wants. I will conduct you to an enemy who has enriched himself at the expense of that unhappy country. It is only with the enemy you can find money, abundance, and all which you desire.”
Thus did Gustavus appeal to their courage, their patriotism, their religious enthusiasm, and their personal necessities, and inspire his soldiers with irresistible valor.
The severe discipline of the Swedish troops excited not less admiration than the personal virtue of their king. Richelieu, in his memoirs, says, “As to the king of Sweden personally, there was seen in his
## actions but an inexorable severity towards the least excess of his
soldiers, an extraordinary mildness towards the people, and an exact justice on all occasions.”
It was at the time of the landing of the Swedes that the noted general Wallenstein had fallen into disgrace with the German emperor, and had been discharged from the imperial service. His place was filled by Tilly, a military chieftain of high renown. Tilly had made himself the terror of the Protestants by his bigoted zeal for the Catholic religion and his fierce spirit of persecution towards the Reformed Faith; but his military insight made him just enough to thus generously describe his famous antagonist:—
“The king of Sweden is an enemy both prudent and brave, inured to war, and in the flower of his age. His plans are excellent, his resources considerable, his subjects enthusiastically attached to him. His army,—composed of Swedes, Germans, Livonians, Finlanders, Scots, and English,—by its devoted obedience to their leader, is blended into one nation. He is a gamester, in playing with whom not to have lost is to have won a great deal.”
Gustavus was beginning to make a strong position in northern Germany, when he received an envoy from the elector of Brandenburg, urging him to consent to an armistice, the elector offering himself as a mediator between the Swedish king and the Catholic league. Gustavus thus answered this weak and cowardly advice of the elector:—
“I have listened to the arguments by which my lord and brother-in-law would seek to dissuade me from the war, but could well have expected another communication from him; namely, that God having helped me thus far, and come, as I am, into this land for no other end than to deliver its poor and oppressed estates and people from the horrible tyranny of the thieves and robbers who have plagued it so long, above all, to free his highness from like tribulation, he would rather have joined himself with me, and thus not failed to seize the opportunity which God has wonderfully vouchsafed him. Or does not his highness yet know that the intention of the emperor and of the league is this,—not to cease till the evangelical religion is quite rooted out of the empire, and that he himself has nothing else to look forward to than to be compelled either to deny his faith or to forsake his land? For God’s sake, let him bethink himself a little, and for once grasp manly counsels. For myself, I cannot go back.... I seek in this work not mine own things, no profit at all except the safety of my kingdom; else have I nothing from it but expense, weariness, toil, and danger of life and limb.... For this, I say plainly beforehand, I will hear and know nothing of neutrality; his highness must be friend or foe. When I come to his borders, he must declare himself hot or cold. The battle is one between God and the devil. Will his highness hold with God, let him stand on my side; if he prefer to hold with the devil, then he must fight with me.”
The elector of Brandenburg still vacillating, the king of Sweden was as good as his word, and advanced with his army, with loaded cannon and matches burning, to the gates of Berlin. Whereupon, the treaty of alliance was quickly signed by the elector of Brandenburg; and not long after, the outrages of the imperial commander obliged the elector of Saxony also to join the Swedish king. During the first year in Germany, the Swedes had captured Greiffenhagen and Gartz; and soon after New Brandenburg, Loitz, Malchin, and Demmin were in their power. We have no space to note the particulars regarding these important conquests, and can only mention the taking of Demmin. The Imperialists had placed the garrison here under the command of Duke Savelli, who had been ordered to defend the place three weeks, when Tilly had promised to come to his aid. Among the Imperialists was Del Ponte, a man who had been deep in a conspiracy to assassinate the king of Sweden, which had come near being successful. As Del Ponte feared the vengeance of the king whose life he had thus sought, he left the fortress secretly, leaving his baggage and wealth behind him. Savelli offered to capitulate, on condition that he might pass out with arms and baggage. As Gustavus was now on the eve of meeting Tilly, he did not think best to prolong the siege, and so agreed to the proposal of Savelli. The entire garrison passed out with ensigns flying, followed by the baggage train. As Savelli, brilliantly and carefully dressed, passed the Swedish king, Gustavus addressed him: “Tell the emperor I make war for civil and religious liberty. As to you, duke, I thank you for having taken the trouble to quit the splendid feasts of Rome to combat against me, for your person seems to me more in its place at courts than in the camps.” After the Italian general passed, Gustavus remarked to his officers, “That man reckons much on the good nature of the emperor; if he was in my service, he would lose his head for his cowardice.”
As the baggage of the treacherous Del Ponte was noticed in the train, some of the Swedish officers suggested that it would be well to retain what belonged to that traitor, to which Gustavus responded, “I have given my word, and no one shall have the right to reproach me for having broken it.” As to the energy and bravery of Gustavus, one of his Scotch officers thus testifies: “I serve with great pleasure such a general, and I could find with difficulty a similar man who was accustomed to be the first and the last where there is danger; who gained the love of his officers by the part he took in their troubles and fatigues; who knew so well how to trace the rules of conduct for his warriors according to times and circumstances; who cared for their health, their honor; who was always ready to aid them; who divined the projects and knew the resources of his enemies, their plans, their forces, their discipline, likewise the nature and position of the places they occupied. He never hesitated to execute what he had ordered. He arrested an officer who, while the fortifications of Settin were being repaired, stated that the earth was frozen. In affairs which had relation to the needs of the war, he did not admit of excuses. The lack of good charts and the great importance he attached to knowledge of the ground, caused him to go _en reconnaissance_ in person, and expose himself very near to danger, for he was short-sighted.”
At the siege of Demmin he had gone to reconnoitre, and held a spy-glass in hand, when he plunged half-leg deep in the marsh, in consequence of the breaking of the ice. The officer nearest to him prepared to come to his aid. Gustavus made a sign to him to remain tranquil, so as not to draw the attention of the enemy who, not less, directed his fire upon him. The king raised himself up in the midst of a shower of projectiles, and went to dry himself at the bivouac fire of the officer, who reproached him for having thus exposed his precious life. The king listened to the officer with kindness and acknowledged his imprudence, but added, “It is my nature not to believe well done except what I do myself; it is also necessary that I see everything by my own eyes.” Gustavus now advanced boldly into the heart of Germany, and met the forces of the Catholic League on the plains of Leipsic. As the Swedes drew up in line of battle, Gustavus rode from point to point, encouraging his soldiers, telling them “not to fire until they saw the white of the enemies’ eyes.”
Then the Swedish king rode to the centre of his line, halted, removed his cap with one hand and lowered his sword with the other. His example was followed by all near him. Gustavus then offered this brief prayer in a powerful voice, which enabled him to be heard by a large number of his army:—
“Good God, thou who holdest in thy hand victory and defeat, turn thy merciful face to us thy servants. We have come far, we have left our peaceful homes to combat in this country for liberty, for the truth, and for thy gospel. Glorify thy holy name in granting us victory.”
Then the Swedish king sent a trumpeter to challenge Tilly and his army. The battle ensued, in which Gustavus defeated Tilly, the victor on more than twenty battle-fields. The king of Sweden so shattered and scattered the Catholic army in this conflict, that for a while all Germany was open to him. Gustavus was now everywhere hailed by the down-trodden Protestants of Germany, whose worship he re-established, and whose churches he restored to them, as their saviour and deliverer. The very excess of their gratitude would sometimes make him afraid. Only three days before his death he said to his chaplain, “They make a god of me; God will punish me for this.”
The appearance of Gustavus at this time is thus described: “He was one ‘framed in the prodigality of nature.’ His look proclaimed the hero, and at the same time, the genuine child of the North. A head taller than men of the ordinary stature, yet all his limbs were perfectly proportioned.” Majesty and courage shone out from his clear gray eyes; while, at the same time, an air of mildness and _bonhommie_ tempered the earnestness of his glance. He had the curved eagle nose of Cæsar, of Napoleon, of Wellington, of Napier,—the conqueror’s nose as we may call it. His skin was fair, his hair blonde, almost gold-colored, so that the Italians were wont to call him, _Re d’oro_ or the Gold-king. In latter years he was somewhat inclined to corpulence, though not so much as to detract from the majesty of his appearance. This made it, however, not easy to find a horse which was equal to his weight.
Gustavus now carried his victorious arms to the banks of the Rhine, where there still stands, not far from Mayence, what is known as the Swedish column. On the banks of the Lech he again met Tilly, who would have barred the way. Some of the officers in the Swedish army counselled that the king should not meet Tilly, but should march to Bohemia.
The Lech was deep and rapid, and to cross it in the face of an enemy was very hazardous. In case of failure the entire Swedish army would be lost. But Gustavus exclaimed, “What! have we crossed the Baltic, the Oder, the Elbe, and the Rhine, to stop stupefied before this mere stream, the Lech? Remember that the undertakings the most difficult are often those which succeed best, because the adverse party regard them as impossible.”
Gustavus threw over the Lech a bridge under the crossfire of seventy-two pieces of cannon. The king stimulated his troops by his own example, making with his own hand more than sixty cannon discharges. The enemy did their utmost to destroy the works, and Tilly was undaunted in his exertions to encourage his men, until he was mortally wounded by a cannon-ball, and victory soon was on the side of the heroic Swedes.
This crossing of the Lech in the face of an enemy is esteemed the most signal military exploit of Gustavus. The emperor was now forced to recall Wallenstein to lead the hard-pressed Imperialists against this invincible Swedish king.
But with the battle of Lützen, where the Swedes encountered the Imperialists under Wallenstein, we come also to the lamentable but heroic death of Gustavus Adolphus. We cannot recount the further conflicts of the Thirty Years’ War.
The work of Gustavus Adolphus in Germany was continued by his able generals and allies, until at length the treaty, concluded at Westphalia in 1648, gave security and permanence to the work which the king of Sweden and his brave soldiers had in a large degree achieved before his death. A wound which Gustavus had received in his Polish wars, made the wearing of armor very painful to him, and upon the morning of the day upon which the battle of Lützen was fought, when his armor was brought to him, he declined to put it on, saying, “God is my armor.”
His death is thus described. Learning that the centre of the Swedish lines were wavering, Gustavus hastened thither. “Arriving at the wavering centre, he cried to his troops, ‘Follow me, my brave boys!’ and his horse at a bound bore him across the ditch. Only a few of his cavaliers followed him, their steeds not being equal to his. Owing to his impetuosity, perhaps also to his nearsightedness and the increasing fog, he did not perceive to what extent he was in advance, and became separated from the troops he was so bravely leading. An imperial corporal, noticing that the Swedes made way for an advancing cavalier, pointed him out to a musketeer, saying, he must be a personage of high rank, and urged him to fire on him. The musketeer took aim, his ball broke the left arm of the king, causing the bone to protrude, and the blood to run freely. ‘The king bleeds!’ cried the Swedes near him. ‘It is nothing; march forward my boys!’ responded the wounded hero, seeking to calm their disquietude by assuming a smiling countenance. But soon overcome by pain and loss of blood, he requested Duke Lauenburg, in French, to lead him out of the tumult without being observed, which was sought to be done by making a _détour_, so as to conceal the king’s withdrawal from his brave Smolanders he was leading to the charge. Scarcely had they made a few steps, when one of the imperial regiment of cuirassiers encountered them, preceded by Lieut.-Col. Falkenberg, who, recognizing the king, fired a pistol shot, hitting him in the back. ‘Brother,’ said he to Lauenburg, with a dying voice; ‘I have enough. Look to your own life.’ Falkenberg was immediately slain by the equerry of the duke of Lauenburg. At the same moment the king fell from his horse, struck by several more balls, and was dragged some distance by the stirrups. The duke of Lauenburg fled. Of the king’s two orderlies, one lay dead and the other wounded. Of his attendants, only a German page, named Leubelfing, remained by him. The king having fallen from his horse, the page jumped from his own, and offered it to the dying hero. The king stretched out his hands, but the young man had not strength sufficient to lift him from the ground. Meanwhile the imperial cuirassiers hastened forward, and demanded the name of the wounded officer. The loyal page would not reveal it, and received wounds from which he died soon after. But the dying Gustavus bravely answered, ‘I am the king of Sweden.’ Whereupon his cruel enemies shot a ball through his head, and thrust their swords through his bleeding body. His hat, blackened with the powder and pierced with the ball, is still to be seen in the arsenal at Vienna; his bloody buff coat as well. More is not known of the final agony, except that, when the tide of battle had a little ebbed, the body of the hero-king was found with the face to the ground, despoiled and stripped to the shirt, trodden under the hoofs of horses, trampled in the mire, and disfigured with all these wounds.”
[Illustration: DEATH OF GUSTAVUS AND HIS PAGE.]