Part 9

The barbarous treatment of Magdeburg enraged instead of disheartening the Protestants. Two able allies, Hesse Cassel and Saxony, joined the king’s train. And by able manœuvring, restless energy, and clear-headed method he swept Pomerania and Mecklenburg of Imperial troops.

The pusillanimous conduct of the Elector of Brandenburg, under the plea of neutrality, finally constrained Gustavus to dictate terms to him. He marched on Berlin and compelled the Elector to allow free passage to the Swedes over his territory, as well as to refrain from damaging the Protestant cause, if he would not help it.

Thus in one year from his landing in Germany, Gustavus had occupied Pomerania and Mecklenburg, and had neutralized Brandenburg (June, 1631). By holding the lines of the Havel, the Spree, and the Oder, he controlled all the territory to the confines of Poland and Silesia, and with a sufficiency of reënforcements he could safely advance on central Germany.

Tilly invaded Hesse Cassel. Gustavus tried a diversion to lure him away from his new ally. Count Pappenheim opposed him at the Elbe. Gustavus stole a clever march on him, crossed and went into an entrenched camp near Werben. These entrenched camps, it will be perceived, were a feature of this period which Gustavus still affected. They continued in use until he himself in part, and Frederick wholly, demonstrated that entrenchments could be taken by vigorous assault. At this time it was considered the height of foolhardiness to attack entrenchments.

Tilly vacated Hesse Cassel and moved on the Swedish camp. Gustavus had but ten thousand men there; Tilly had twenty-seven thousand; but the king waylaid Tilly’s isolated cavalry, handled it roughly, and returned safely to camp. Tilly, despite his excess of force, did not care to risk an assault. Large reënforcements soon reached both armies. Gustavus’ diversion had accomplished all he sought. By defending the line of the Elbe and Havel, he prevented Tilly from making any compromising advance.

Tilly was ordered to Saxony. The cruelties here perpetrated by his troops made the Elector all the better ally. He offered Gustavus the support of his army of eighteen thousand men. The king again crossed the Elbe, at Wittenberg, and joined the Saxons at Düben. This gave him a force of forty thousand men, of which twelve thousand were cavalry. Tilly had arrived at Leipsic, and promptly advanced to meet Gustavus with thirty-two thousand under the colors. But, at the battle of Breitenfeld, he suffered a stinging defeat, with the loss of six thousand men.

Tilly’s soldiers were in action much what their commander was,--a stiff, dense, unwieldy mass, still hide-bound in the Spanish school, which won its way by mere weight of men in the old phalangial manner. The Swedes were quite a different body. Gustavus had reduced the number of their firing-ranks to three, placed reliance on their individual intelligence, which was marked, and had drilled his musketeers, as well as his gunners, to fire as much more rapidly than the enemy, as Frederick’s men with their iron ramrods, or the Prussians of this generation with their needle-guns. In this, his first great battle, the result was, despite the ignominious flight of the Saxons, predetermined by the condition of the respective armies and their leaders. Here, as on all occasions, the king, in personal conduct, was an Alexander in audacity; a Cæsar in intelligence.

Gustavus Adolphus had been only fourteen months in Germany, but he had by his broad, prescient, cautious, and well-digested scheme, crowned by the victory of Breitenfeld, completely changed the prospects of the Protestants. He had got a firm footing in northern Germany, where he now held most of the strong places. He had secured his communications with Sweden by the possession of the sea. He had grown in strength by his treaties with Hesse Cassel and Saxony, and by accessions of troops from all quarters. He had gained enormously in moral weight, and his army in _aplomb_ and confidence. His operations had been slow and cautious,--though rapid when measured by the times,--but they had been sure, and were justified by the event. The late victory had placed him on a totally different footing. The Catholic party no longer looked down on the “Snow-king,” as Wallenstein had jeeringly called him. The Imperial army had lost in spirit and organization that which he had gained. Its present retreat to the Weser opened the heart of the Emperor’s possessions to the king’s advance. The former’s authority had received its first severe blow, and the Protestants of north and west Germany, lately cowed into submission, now rose and joined Gustavus’ standard. These fourteen months had shifted the moral superiority from the Catholic to the Protestant cause. But the work was far from ended. It required the same wise and cautious action, coupled with vigor and intelligence, to complete what had been so well begun.

The advisers of Gustavus strongly urged an advance on Austria, believing that such a course would bring Ferdinand to terms. But so far Gustavus’ successes had come from a systematic plan of campaign which embraced the whole of Germany in its scope. He had secured each step and had risked nothing unnecessarily. He saw the chances pointed out, but he also saw that if he advanced south, his right rear would be threatened by Tilly, who had, after his defeat, retired toward the Rhenish provinces and there made a new base. The king preferred his own plan of first gaining a firm footing in western Germany. He held interior lines and saw that he could operate against his enemies in detail. To complete his plan would secure him from the lower Elbe to the middle and upper Rhine, and he could then turn against Bavaria and Austria from the west, as his advisers would now have him do from the north, and with distinctly better effect. Meanwhile the Saxons could operate towards Silesia and Bohemia to secure Gustavus’ left in his advance, and Hesse Cassel could hold head against Tilly on Gustavus’ right. The scheme was wise and far-sighted, took into calculation all the political and military elements of the situation, and was based on broad, sound judgment. For seventeen hundred years, no one had looked at war with so large an intelligence.

It may be said that war is a game of risks. But to play a gambler’s game was not Gustavus’ _forte_. When the occasion demanded, he could disregard every danger. What he has taught us is method, not temerity. His mission was to abolish the Quixotism of his day.

The Saxon Elector, with a mixed army over twenty thousand strong, accordingly marched into Bohemia and Silesia (Oct., 1631) and pushed the Imperialists back from Prague on Tabor. Everything promised success. But all at once the Elector appeared to lose heart, arrested his advance, and opened negotiations with the Emperor, who, seeing that threats had not succeeded, had tried conciliation. This part of the operation was nullified.

Gustavus moved to Würzburg. Franconia joined the Protestant cause as Thuringia had already done. Tilly, having recovered from his late defeat, and his present position being no threat to Gustavus, marched southerly. With allies he collected over fifty thousand men and proposed to seek battle. But the Elector of Bavaria, fearful for his territory, kept Tilly on the defensive.

Gustavus was now firmly established on the Main, and in Thuringia and Franconia, and he presently moved down the river to fully secure the Rhineland, leaving a sufficient force opposite Tilly in Franconia. His men marched along both banks with the baggage on boats. He crossed the Rhine, took Mainz and transformed it into an allied fortress.

Germany was metamorphosed. The allies had one hundred and fifty thousand men in the field. Recruiting was lively. All Protestants were united in sentiment, purpose, and efforts. France was helpful in keeping the Catholic princes along the Rhine in a condition of neutrality, while Gustavus lay in a central position between the Emperor and these same princes. Bavaria was an uncertain element. The Emperor had a total of but eighty thousand men, and of these the bulk were protecting the Danube instead of carrying desolation into the Protestant territory.

Gustavus now concentrated on the middle Main to the number of forty-five thousand men and marched on Nürnberg, where he was received with enthusiasm. Tilly crossed the Danube and took up a position over against Rain, behind the Lech, with forty thousand effective. From Nürnberg Gustavus marched to Donauwörth, also crossed the Danube and sent out a detachment to take Ulm.

The king was daring at the proper time. His whole campaign so far had been cautious and systematic, neglecting no point in his general scheme. He was now face to face with the army he had driven from northern and western Germany, and was ready for battle. He could not draw Tilly from his entrenched camp; and he determined to impose on him by boldly crossing the river in his front and attacking it,--then simply an unheard-of proceeding. He believed that the moral advantage to be gained by a stroke of audacity would more than compensate for the danger, and danger was to Gustavus an incentive. He erected a battery of seventy-two guns on the left bank of the Lech, opposite Rain, and under cover of its fire set over a portion of the troops in boats, built in two days a bridge and a bridge-head, led over the infantry, and sent the cavalry up stream to ford the river above the enemy’s position (April, 1632).

Tilly and the Elector of Bavaria sought too late to interrupt these fearless proceedings. They issued from their camp with a select body of troops and attacked the Swedes, who were backing on the Lech. But the crossfire of the admirably posted Swedish batteries was severe; the Swedish infantry held its own, and the cavalry rode down upon their flank. In this obstinate combat Tilly was mortally wounded. His second in command suffered a like fate. The Imperial troops lost heart and took refuge within their breastworks. Oncoming darkness forestalled pursuit. But Gustavus had gained his object. The Imperial army had lost _morale_ and organization, and his own had gained in abundant measure. This is the first instance of forcing the passage of a wide and rapid river in the teeth of the enemy.

The Elector retired to Ratisbon. The Swedes took possession of many towns in Bavaria, including Munich. But the country population was so hostile that a permanent occupation seemed a waste of energy; Gustavus retired to Ingolstadt.

A disturbing element now arose in a curious suspicion of the ulterior motives of Gustavus. Both Protestants and Catholics--Germans alike--began to fear that the king might be tempted by his successes to make himself autocrat of Germany. This feeling soon begot a half-heartedness among the king’s supporters. Richelieu feared that Gustavus, instead of Ferdinand, was reaching a point which might make him dangerous to France. The Emperor, meanwhile, went back to Wallenstein, who had been so successful before his deposition from command. Wallenstein made hard terms, but he was a power which could no longer be disregarded. Ferdinand, to gain his aid, gave him uncontrolled authority over the army he should raise and all its operations.

Wallenstein began recruiting. He soon had forty thousand men. The Catholics grew braver when the reconciliation of Wallenstein and the Emperor became known. This, added to the suspicions of the allies, constrained Gustavus to cease his successful offensive for a cautious holding of what he already had.

Wallenstein marched into Bohemia, the Saxons offering no resistance, and took Prague. He then moved to Bavaria and joined the Elector. Seeing that Wallenstein by this manœuvre had gained a position from which he might endanger his communications with northern Germany, Gustavus marched summarily on Nürnberg, which was the “cross-roads” of that section of the country, to head Wallenstein off from Saxony, and ordered his outlying detachments to concentrate there. He had under his immediate command but one-third of Wallenstein’s total, and could not assume the offensive. But he would not abandon southern Germany until driven from it. He entrenched a camp near the town. Despite superior numbers, Wallenstein did not attack. He could not rise above the prejudice of the day. He deemed hunger a more efficient ally than assault. He sat down before Nürnberg (July, 1632). The small-war indulged in generally ran in favor of the king, who patiently awaited reënforcements, having provided two months’ provisions for his army and the town. Oxenstiern meanwhile collected thirty-eight thousand men and advanced to the aid of his chief. Gustavus marched out to meet him. Wallenstein did not interfere. The king was prepared for battle should he do so. It was a grave military error that Wallenstein took no means to prevent this junction.

Soon after Gustavus had received his reënforcements, he determined to bring Wallenstein to battle, for famine had begun to make inroads in Nürnberg and in both camps. He accordingly marched out and drew up in the enemy’s front, but Wallenstein could not be induced to leave his entrenchments (Aug., 1632). Failing in this, the king at last resorted to an assault on the Imperial fortifications. But after a gallant struggle he was driven back with a loss of two thousand men. He has been blamed for this assault. He deserves rather the highest praise for his effort to show the world that gallantry and enterprise are among the best characteristics of war. After him, Frederick proved that good troops can more often take entrenchments than fail. His grenadiers were accustomed to assault works held by two to one of their own number,--and take them, too, under the king’s stern eye.

After ten weeks of this futile struggle, and much loss on both sides, Gustavus, fairly starved out by want of rations and of battle, determined to regain his communications with northern Germany. He left five thousand men in Nürnberg, and marching past Wallenstein’s camp unchallenged, moved to Würzburg. He had but twenty-four thousand men left. Wallenstein, who again neglected an admirable chance of falling on Gustavus’ flank, soon after marched to Bamberg with the relics of his army, reduced to about the same number (Sept., 1632).

Learning that Wallenstein had left Nürnberg, Gustavus, in the belief that his opponent would seek repose for a period, marched back to the Danube to resume the thread of his own work. The Nürnberg incident had interrupted, not discontinued his general plan. Wallenstein, as he had anticipated, sat quietly in Bamberg. He had shown singular disinclination to come to blows with the king, and exhibited far less activity, though, in truth, Wallenstein was both a distinguished and able soldier.

On other fields the Swedes and allies were generally successful, but finally thirty thousand Imperialists concentrated in Saxony, and Wallenstein joined them and took Leipsic. Gustavus (Sept., 1632) feared for his Saxon alliance, without which he could scarcely maintain himself. He again put off the prosecution of his general scheme, to go where lay the most imminent danger. Oxenstiern again advised a summary march on Vienna, but Gustavus wisely rejected the advice. At that day Vienna had not its importance of 1805. The king left a suitable force in Bavaria (Oct., 1632), marched northward and entrenched a camp at Naumberg. Wallenstein turned to meet him. His evident duty was to concentrate and attack. But, according to the idea of that day, he parcelled out his army in detachments, sending Pappenheim to Halle while he marched to Merseburg. The Imperial general had blundered into a cardinal position in the midst of the allies. The Swedes, twenty-seven thousand strong, were at Naumberg, the Saxons, with eighteen thousand, at Torgau, and ten thousand allies were marching up the left bank of the Elbe. Wallenstein’s manifest operation was to fall on each of these forces singly--on Gustavus first, as the strongest. But he appeared to lose both head and heart when facing Gustavus. He grew weaker as Gustavus grew more bold. He made no use of his advantage, even if he comprehended it.

The king had got possession of the crossing of the Saale, but Wallenstein stood between him and the Saxons. Gustavus’ generals advised a manœuvre to join these allies, but the king was instinct with mettle, and determined upon action.

The ensuing battle of Lützen has little which is remarkable, beyond the fiery ardor which ended in the death of Gustavus Adolphus. It was a battle in simple parallel order, but the better discipline of the Swedish army and the greater mobility of its organization showed as marked superiority over Wallenstein’s masses as the Roman legion, for the same reason, had shown over the Macedonian phalanx eighteen centuries before. The Swedes won the victory, but they lost their king, and Germany its protector and champion.

As is the case with all great captains, Gustavus Adolphus gave the impulse to every action while on the theatre of operations of the Thirty Years’ War. For many centuries war had been conducted without that art and purpose which Alexander, Hannibal, and Cæsar so markedly exhibited. But in the operations of the Swedish king we again find the hand of the master. We recognize the same method which has excited our admiration in the annals of the noted campaigns of antiquity, and from now on we shall see generals who intelligently carry forward what Gustavus Adolphus rescued from the oblivion of the Middle Ages.

The operations of the king, from his appearance in Germany, showed his exceptional genius for war. He had no military guide, except his study of the deeds of the ancients, for modern war up to his day had altogether lacked depth and directness. During the first fourteen months, he secured his foothold in the northern coast provinces, in a most clear-witted and orderly manner. Every circumstance was against him. He had weak forces to oppose to the Emperor’s might. The half-hearted, fear-ridden Protestants yielded him little aid and comfort; yet he reached his goal, step by step, seizing and holding strong places at key points, and accumulating supplies where he could count on their safety. But once, during his entire German campaign,--at Nürnberg,--was he out of rations, and this without ravaging the country. He carefully secured his communications with the base he had established and with Sweden, and never manœuvred so as to lose them. He gradually strengthened himself with allies and recruits. Unlike the armies of the day, who behaved as if the populations of the countries they traversed were of less consequence than the beasts of the field, Gustavus dealt with them in a spirit of kindliness and Christian charity which won them over to his side. He kept his troops under strict discipline, and by supplying all their wants and paying them regularly, could rightfully prohibit marauding and plunder. He understood how to avoid battle with an enemy too strong to beat, how to lead him astray on the strategic field, how to manœuvre energetically against an enemy, his equal or inferior in strength; how to make the tactical mobility of his troops and his own ardor on the battle-field tell; how to improve victory; and how to heighten and maintain the morale of his troops under victory and defeat alike.

When, by his cautious and intelligent plan, the king stood firmly planted between the sea, the Oder, and the Elbe, with flanks and rear well guarded, he at once altered his conduct. He crossed the Elbe and boldly attacked the enemy, adding to his strength by beating him; and, leaving the allies to protect his flanks and communications, he advanced with spirit and energy. In thirty days he had established himself firmly on the Main; in little over four months more he had moved down the Main, and had possessed himself of or neutralized the whole middle Rhine; and in twelve weeks thence had crossed the Danube, beaten the enemy at the Lech, and occupied almost all Bavaria. Thus in less than nine months (Sept., 1631 to June, 1632) he had overrun a much larger territory than he had previously gained in fourteen, and had added vastly to his standing. He had been bold and decisive, and yet never lacking in the method and caution which were his guide. He had established himself as firmly in southern Germany as previously in northern.

At the height of his reputation and success, he was now ready to attack Austria from the west. But the policy of France changed, his allies became suspicious, and Wallenstein moved toward his rear. The scene changed. Gustavus had no longer the security of whole-hearted allies to connect him with Sweden, and his policy at once shifted to the cautious one he had first shown. The thing for him to consider, if he was to be thrown on his own resources, was first and foremost his communications. With forces inferior to Wallenstein’s, he acted on the defensive. With the accessions which made his army equal to Wallenstein’s, he again went over to an offensive at that day startling in its audacity. This failing, and provision having given out, he moved, not to Bavaria, but to the Main, to protect his line of retreat, which naturally traversed Hesse Cassel. So soon as Wallenstein retired to Bamberg, Gustavus, leaving a lieutenant to observe him, felt at liberty to take up his old thread in Bavaria. He had gauged his opponent aright. When again Wallenstein, by his Saxon affiliations, threatened, and this time more seriously, the king’s allies, and remotely the security of his advanced position, Gustavus again resorted to decisive operations. His march to Saxony and his attack on the enemy at Lützen were equally bold, rapid, and skilful.

Herein is a peculiarly intelligent adaptation of work to existing conditions. From the king’s landing to the passage of the Elbe, while securing his base, a cautious, but by no means indecisive policy; from crossing the Elbe to Nürnberg, while moving upon the enemy, a singular quickness and boldness, but by no means lacking in intelligent and methodical caution; from Nürnberg to Lützen an alternation from caution to boldness as circumstances warranted. After Cæsar’s day, Gustavus was the first who firmly and intelligently carried through a campaign on one well considered, fully digested, broad, and intelligent plan, and swerved therefrom only momentarily and partially to meet exigencies which could not be foreseen. The advice of his most trusted aides was often opposed to what he did; but they could not see as far as he saw. Each variation had its definite object, which attained, the general plan was at once resumed. There was an entire freedom from blind subservience to the rules of war as then laid down; an intelligent sequence and inter-dependence of movement on a plan elastic enough to meet unexpected obstacles; these produced a perfectly systematic whole, in which the unity of plan was never disturbed; and with this broad scheme went hand in hand a careful execution of detail upon which depended the success of the whole. His occupation remained firm; his victualling was sufficient to his needs; his movements accomplished what he sought.