The Thirty Years' War, 1618-1648

CHAPTER IV.

Chapter 155,341 wordsPublic domain

MANSFELD AND CHRISTIAN IN NORTH GERMANY.

SECTION I.--_Mansfeld's March into the Netherlands._

[Sidenote: § 1. Reduction of the Palatinate.]

When once Tilly had got the better of the armies in the field, the reduction of the fortresses in the Palatinate was merely a work of time. Heidelberg surrendered on September 16. On November 8 Vere found Mannheim no longer tenable. Frankenthal alone held out for a few months longer, and was then given up to the Spaniards.

[Sidenote: § 2. Aims of the Catholics.]

James still hoped that peace was possible, though the conference at Brussels had broken up in September. In the meanwhile, Ferdinand and Maximilian were pushing on to the end which they had long foreseen; and an assembly of princes was invited to meet at Ratisbon in November to assent to the transference of the electorate to the Duke of Bavaria.

[Sidenote: 1623.

§ 3. The Electorate transferred to Maximilian.]

Constitutional opposition on the part of the Protestants was impossible. In addition to the majority against them amongst the princes, there was now, by the mere fact of Frederick's exclusion, a majority against them amongst the Electors, a majority which was all the more firmly established when, on February 13, the transfer was solemnly declared. Maximilian was to be Elector for his lifetime. If any of Frederick's relations claimed that the electorate ought rather to pass over to them, they would be heard, and if their case appeared to be a good one, they would receive what was due to them after Maximilian's death. If, in the meanwhile, Frederick chose to ask humbly for forgiveness, and to abandon his claim to the electoral dignity, the Emperor would take his request for the restitution of his lands into favourable consideration. Against all this the Spanish ambassador protested; but the protest was evidently not meant to be followed by action.

[Sidenote: § 4. The North German Protestants.]

The question of peace or war now depended mainly on the North German Protestants. Nobody doubted that, if they could hit upon a united plan of action, and if they vigorously set to work to carry it out, they would bring an irresistible weight to bear upon the points at issue. Unfortunately, however, such uniformity of action was of all things most improbable. John George, indeed, had more than once been urged in different directions during the past years by events as they successively arose. The invasion of the Palatinate had shaken him in his friendship for the Emperor. Then had come the kidnapping of the Landgrave of Darmstadt to give him a shock on the other side. Later in the year the news that an excuse had been found for driving the Lutheran clergy out of Bohemia had deeply exasperated him, and his exasperation had been increased by the transference of the electorate, by which the Protestants were left in a hopeless minority in the Electoral House. But the idea of making war upon the Emperor, and unsettling what yet remained as a security for peace, was altogether so displeasing to John George that it is doubtful whether anything short of absolute necessity would have driven him to war. What he would have liked would have been a solemn meeting, at which he might have had the opportunity of advancing his views. But if those views had been seriously opposed he would hardly have drawn the sword to uphold them.

[Sidenote: § 5. Mansfeld and Christian of Brunswick.]

If the only danger to be apprehended by the North Germans had been the march of Tilly's army, it is not unlikely that the war would here have come to an end. Ferdinand and Maximilian would doubtless have respected the agreement of Mühlhausen, and there would hardly have been found sufficient determination in the northern princes to induce them to arm for the recovery of the Palatinate. But a new danger had arisen. Mansfeld and Christian had not laid down their arms when Frederick dismissed them in July, and so far from being ready to make sacrifices for peace, they were ready to make any sacrifices for the sake of the continuance of the war.

[Sidenote: 1622.

§ 6. They establish themselves in Lorraine.]

It was not long before the adventurers were forced to leave Alsace. They had eaten up everything that was to be eaten there, and the enemy was known to be on their track. Throwing themselves into Lorraine, they settled down for a time like a swarm of locusts upon that smiling land. But where were they to turn next? The French government hurried up reinforcements to guard their frontier. That road, at all events, was barred to them, and Christian, whose troops were in a state of mutiny, tried in vain to lead them towards the Lower Rhine. Whilst the leaders hardly knew what to do, they received an invitation to place themselves for three months at the disposal of the Dutch Republic.

[Sidenote: § 7. Battle of Fleurus.]

Matters had not been going well with the Dutch since the re-opening of the war in 1621. Their garrison at Juliers had surrendered to Spinola in the winter, and the great Spanish commander was now laying siege to Bergen-op-Zoom, with every prospect of reducing it. To come to its relief Mansfeld would have to march across the Spanish Netherlands. On August 28 he found Cordova on his way to Fleurus, as he had stood in his way in the Palatinate the year before. Worse than all, two of his own regiments broke out into mutiny, refusing to fight unless they were paid. At such a time Mansfeld was at his best. He was a man of cool courage and infinite resource, and he rode up to the mutineers, entreating them if they would not fight at least to look as if they meant to fight. Then, with the rest of his force, he charged the enemy. Christian seconded him bravely at the head of his cavalry, fighting on in spite of a shot in his left arm. Three horses were killed under him. The loss was enormous on both sides, but Mansfeld gained his object, and was able to pursue his way in safety.

[Sidenote: § 8. Christian loses his arm.]

Christian's arm was amputated. He ordered that the operation should be performed to the sound of trumpets. 'The arm that is left,' he said, 'shall give my enemies enough to do.' He coined money out of the silver he had taken from the Spaniards, with the inscription '_Altera restat_.'

[Sidenote: § 9. Mansfeld in Münster and East Friesland.]

Bergen-op-Zoom was saved. Spinola raised the siege. But Mansfeld's disorderly habits did not comport well with the regular discipline of the Dutch army. Those whom he had served were glad to be rid of him. In November he was dismissed, and marched to seek his fortune in the diocese of Münster. But the enemy was too strong for him there, and he turned his steps to East Friesland, a land rich and fertile, easily fortified against attack, yet perfectly helpless. There he settled down to remain till the stock of money and provisions which he was able to wring from the inhabitants had been exhausted.

SECTION II.--_Christian of Brunswick in Lower Saxony._

[Sidenote: § 1. Difficulties of the Lower Saxon circle.]

Here then was a new rock of offence, a new call for the Emperor to interfere, if he was in any way to be regarded as the preserver of the peace of the Empire. But a march of Tilly against an enemy in East Friesland was not a simply military operation. Not a few amongst the northern princes doubted whether a victorious Catholic army would respect the agreement of Mühlhausen. Christian of Brunswick, of course, lost no time in favouring the doubt. For, whatever else might be questionable there was no question that the diocese of Halberstadt was no longer secured by the provisions of that agreement. Neither the League nor the Emperor had given any promise to those administrators who did not continue loyal to the Emperor, and no one could for a moment contend that Christian had ever shown a spark of loyalty.

[Sidenote: § 2. Christian and Tilly urge them to opposite courses.]

On the one side was Christian, assuring those poor princes that neutrality was impossible, and that it was their plain duty to fight for the bishoprics and Protestantism. On the other side was Tilly, equally assuring them that neutrality was impossible, but asserting that it was their plain duty to fight for their Emperor against Mansfeld and brigandage. The princes felt that it was all very hard. How desirable it would be if only the war would take some other direction, or if Tilly and Christian would mutually exterminate one another, and rid them of the difficulty of solving such terrible questions!

[Sidenote: § 3. Halberstadt in danger.]

But the question could not be disposed of. Halberstadt was a member of the Lower Saxon circle, one of those districts of which the princes and cities were legally bound together for mutual defence. The Lower Saxon circle, therefore, was placed between two fires. The Catholic troops were gathering round them on the south. Mansfeld was issuing forth from his fastness in East Friesland and threatening to occupy the line of the Weser on the north.

[Sidenote: § 4. Warlike preparations.]

In February the circle determined to levy troops and prepare for war. But the preparations were rather directed against Mansfeld than against Tilly. If the Emperor could only have given satisfaction about the bishoprics, he would have had no vassals more loyal than the Lower Saxon princes. But in Ferdinand's eyes to acknowledge more than had been acknowledged at Mühlhausen would be to make himself partaker in other men's sins. It would have been to acknowledge that robbery might give a lawful title to possession.

[Sidenote: § 5. Christian invited to take service under his brother.]

Almost unavoidably the circle became further involved in opposition to the Emperor. Christian's brother, Frederick Ulric, the reigning Duke of Brunswick-Wolfenbüttel, was a weak and incompetent prince much under his mother's guidance. Anxious to save her favourite son, the dashing Christian, from destruction, the Duchess persuaded the Duke to offer his brother a refuge in his dominions. If he would bring his troops there, he and they would be taken into the service of the Duke, a respectable law-abiding prince, and time would be afforded him to make his peace with the Emperor.

[Sidenote: § 6. The Battle of Stadtlohn.]

Christian at once accepted the offer, and entered into negotiations with Ferdinand. But he had never any thought of really abandoning his adventurous career. Young princes, eager for distinction, levied troops and gathered round his standard. Every week the number of his followers increased. At last the neighbouring states could bear it no longer. The authorities of the circle told him plainly to be gone. Reproaching them for their sluggishness in thus abandoning the cause of the Gospel, he started for the Dutch Netherlands, with Tilly following closely upon him. On August 6 he was overtaken at Stadtlohn, within a few hours' march of the frontier, behind which he would have been in safety. His hastily levied recruits were no match for Tilly's veterans. Of 20,000 men only 6,000 found their way across the border.

SECTION III.--_Danger of the Lower Saxon Circle._

[Sidenote: § 1. Danger of the Northern bishoprics.]

Christian's defeat, however disastrous, settled nothing. Mansfeld was still in East Friesland. The princes of Lower Saxony were still anxious about the bishoprics. Even if the agreement of Mühlhausen were scrupulously observed, was it so very certain that the bishoprics might not be wrenched from them in another way than by force of arms? The administrators held the sees simply because they had been elected by the chapters, and if only a Catholic majority could be obtained in a chapter the election at the next vacancy would be certain to fall upon a Catholic. Often it happened that the Protestant majority had taken care to perpetuate its power by methods of very doubtful legality, and it would be open to the Emperor to question those methods. It might even come to pass that strict law might turn the majority into a minority. Already, on April 18, the chapter of Osnabrück had chosen a Catholic to succeed a Protestant bishop, perhaps not altogether uninfluenced by the near neighbourhood of a Catholic army. Christian of Brunswick, certain that he would not be allowed to retain his see, had formally given in his resignation, and it was not impossible that with some manipulation the chapter of Halberstadt might be induced to follow the example of Osnabrück. The question of the bishoprics had, no doubt, its low and petty side. It may be spoken of simply as a question interesting to a handful of aristocratic sinecurists, who had had the luck to reap the good things of the old bishops without doing their work. But this would be a very incomplete account of the matter. Scattered as these bishoprics were over the surface of North Germany, their restitution meant nothing less than the occupation by the Emperor and his armies of points of vantage over the whole of the north. No one who casts his eyes over the map can doubt for an instant that, with these bishoprics open to the troops of the League, or it might be even to the troops of the King of Spain, the independence of the princes would have been a thing of the past; and it must never be forgotten that, as matters stood, the cause of the independence of the princes was inextricably bound up with the independence of Protestantism. If Ferdinand and Maximilian had their way, German Protestantism would exist merely upon sufferance; and whatever they and the Jesuits might say, German Protestantism was, in spite of all its shortcomings, too noble a creed to exist on sufferance.

[Sidenote: § 2. The Lower Saxon circle does nothing.]

Would the members of the circle of Lower Saxony be strong enough to maintain their neutrality? They sent ambassadors to the Emperor, asking him to settle the question of the bishoprics in their favour, and to John George to ask for his support. The Emperor replied that he would not go beyond the agreement of Mühlhausen. John George gave them good advice, but nothing more. And, worse than all, they were disunited amongst themselves. Princes and towns, after agreeing to support troops for the common defence, had done their best to evade their duties. As few men as possible had been sent, and the money needed for their support was still slower in coming in. As usual, unpaid men were more dangerous to the country which they were called upon to protect than to the enemy. The circle came to the conclusion that it would be better to send the troops home than to keep them under arms. By the beginning of the new year, Lower Saxony was undefended, a tempting prey to him who could first stretch out his hand to take it.

[Sidenote: § 3. Low state of public feeling.]

It was the old story. With the Empire, the Diet and the Church in the hands of mere partisans, there was nothing to remind men of their duty as citizens of a great nation. Even the idea of being members of a circle was too high to be seriously entertained. The cities strove to thrust the burden of defence upon the princes, and the princes thrust it back upon the cities. The flood was rising rapidly which was to swallow them all.

SECTION IV.--_England and France._

[Sidenote: § 1. Foreign powers ready to interfere.]

In the spring of 1624 there was rest for a moment. Mansfeld, having stripped East Friesland bare, drew back into the Netherlands. The only army still on foot was the army of the League, and if Germany had been an island in the middle of the Atlantic, exercising no influence upon other powers and uninfluenced by them, the continuance in arms of those troops might fairly be cited in evidence that the Emperor and the League wished to push their advantages still further, in spite of their assertions that they wanted nothing more than assurance of peace.

[Sidenote: § 2. Ferdinand's weakness.]

But Germany was not an island. Around it lay a multitude of powers with conflicting interests, but all finding in her distractions a fair field for pursuing their own objects. Ferdinand, in fact, had made himself just strong enough to raise the jealousy of his neighbours, but not strong enough to impose an impassible barrier to their attacks. He had got on his side the legal and military elements of success. He had put down all resistance. He had frightened those who dreaded anarchy. But he had not touched the national heart. He had taught men to make it a mere matter of calculation whether a foreign invasion was likely to do them more damage than the success of their own Emperor. Whilst he affected to speak in the name of Germany, more than half of Germany was neutral if not adverse in the struggle.

[Sidenote: 1623.

§ 3. Breach between England and Spain.]

England, at last, was giving signs of warlike preparation. Prince Charles had paid a visit to Madrid in hopes of bringing home a Spanish bride, and of regaining the Palatinate for his brother-in-law. He had come back without a wife, and with the prospect of getting back the Palatinate as distant as ever. He had learned what the Spanish plan was, that wonderful scheme for educating Frederick's children at Vienna, with all ostensible guarantees for keeping them in their father's faith, which were, however, almost certain to come to nothing when reduced to practice. And so he came back angry with the Spaniards, and resolved to urge his father to take up arms. In the spring of 1624 all negotiations between England and Spain were brought to an end, and Parliament was discussing with the king the best means of recovering the Palatinate.

[Sidenote: § 4. English plans.]

In the English House of Commons there was but little real knowledge of German affairs. The progress of the Emperor and the League was of too recent a date to be thoroughly comprehended. Men, remembering the days of Philip II., were inclined to overestimate the power of Spain, and to underestimate the power of the Emperor. They therefore fancied that it would be enough to attack Spain by sea, and to send a few thousand soldiers to the aid of the Dutch Republic.

[Sidenote: § 5. Question between the king and the House of Commons.]

James, if he was not prompt in action, at all events knew better than this. He believed that the Imperial power was now too firmly rooted in Germany to fall before anything short of a great European confederacy. From this the Commons shrunk. A war upon the continent would be extremely expensive, and, after all, their wrath had been directed against Spain, which had meddled with their internal affairs, rather than against the Emperor, who had never taken the slightest interest in English politics. The utmost they would do was to accept the king's statement that he would enter into negotiations with other powers and would lay the results before them in the winter.

[Sidenote: § 6. The French Government and the Huguenots.]

James first applied to France. He saw truly that the moment the struggle in Germany developed into a European war the key to success would lie in the hands of the French government. In that great country, then as now, ideas of the most opposite character were striving for the mastery. Old thoughts which had been abandoned in England in the sixteenth century were at issue with new thoughts which would hardly be adopted in England before the eighteenth. In France as well as in England and Germany, the question of the day was how religious toleration could be granted without breaking up the national unity. In England that unity was so strong that no party in the state could yet be brought to acknowledge that toleration should be granted at all. But for that very reason the question was on the fair way to a better settlement than it could have in France or Germany. When the nation was once brought face to face with the difficulty, men would ask, not whether one religion should be established in Northumberland and another in Cornwall, but what amount of religious liberty was good for men as men all over England. In Germany it could not be so. There the only question was where the geographical frontier was to be drawn between two religions. Neither those who wished to increase the power of the princes, nor those who wished to increase the power of the Emperor, were able to rise above the idea of a local and geographical division. And to some extent France was in the same condition. The Edict of Nantes had recognised some hundreds of the country houses of the aristocracy, and certain cities and towns, as places where the reformed religious doctrines might be preached without interference. But in France the ideal of national unity, though far weaker than it was in England, was far stronger than it was in Germany. In order to give security to the Protestant, or Huguenot towns as they were called in France, they had been allowed the right of garrisoning themselves, and of excluding the royal troops. They had thus maintained themselves as petty republics in the heart of France, practically independent of the royal authority.

SECTION V.--_Rise of Richelieu._

[Sidenote: § 1. Lewis XIII.]

Such a state of things could not last. The idea involved in the exaltation of the monarchy was the unity of the nation. The idea involved in the maintenance of these guarantees was its disintegration. Ever since the young king, Lewis XIII., had been old enough to take an active part in affairs he had been striving to establish his authority from one end of the kingdom to the other.

[Sidenote: § 2. His ideas.]

The supremacy and greatness of the monarchy was the thought in which he lived and moved. His intellect was not of a high order, and he was not likely to originate statesmanlike projects, or to carry them out successfully to execution. But he was capable of appreciating merit, and he would give his undivided confidence to any man who could do the thing which he desired to have done, without himself exactly knowing how to do it.

[Sidenote: § 3. Early years of his reign.]

During the first years of his reign everything seemed falling to pieces. As soon as his father's strong hand was removed some of the nobility fell back into half-independence of the Crown, whilst others submitted to it in consideration of receiving large pensions and high positions in the state. To this Lewis was for the time obliged to submit. But the privileges of the Huguenot towns roused his indignation. It was not long before he levied war upon them, determined to reduce them to submission to the royal authority.

[Sidenote: § 4. The intolerant party at Court.]

All this foreboded a future for France not unlike the future which appeared to be opening upon Germany. There were too many signs that the establishment of the king's authority over the towns would be followed by the forcible establishment of his religion. There was a large party at Court crying out with bigoted intolerance against any attempt to treat the Huguenots with consideration, and that cry found an echo in the mind of the king. For he was himself a devout Catholic, and nothing would have pleased him better than to see the victories of his arms attended by the victories of the Church to which he was attached.

[Sidenote: § 5. Lewis jealous of Spain.]

If Lewis was not a Ferdinand, it was not because he was a nobler or a better man, but because he had his eye open to dangers from more quarters than one. When the troubles in Germany first broke out, French influence was exerted on the side of the Emperor. French ambassadors had taken part in the negotiations which preceded the treaty of Ulm, and had thrown all their weight in the scale to secure the safety of Maximilian's march into Bohemia. But in 1622 the conquest of the Palatinate brought other thoughts into the mind of the King of France. His monarchical authority was likely to suffer far more from the victorious union between the two branches of the House of Austria than from a few Huguenot towns. For many a long year Spain had planted her standards not only beyond the Pyrenees, but in Naples, Milan, Franche Comté, and the Netherlands. Frankenthal and the Western Palatinate were now garrisoned by her troops, and behind those troops was the old shadowy empire once more taking form and substance, and presenting itself before the world as a power hereafter to be counted with. In 1622, accordingly, Lewis made peace with the Huguenots at home. In 1623 he sent some slight aid to Mansfeld. In 1624 he called Richelieu to his counsels.

[Sidenote: § 6. Richelieu's accession to power.]

It would be a mistake to suppose that the cool and far-sighted Cardinal who was thus suddenly placed at the head of the French ministry had it all his own way from the first. He had to take into account the ebb and flow of feeling in the Court and the country, and the ebb and flow of feeling in Lewis himself. There was still with Lewis the old anxiety to crush the Huguenots and to make himself absolute master at home, alongside with the new anxiety to shake off the superiority of the House of Austria abroad. It was Richelieu's task to show him how to satisfy both his longings; how to strike down rebellion whilst welcoming religious liberty, and how, by uniting Catholic and Protestant in willing obedience to his throne, he might make himself feared abroad in proportion as he was respected at home.

[Sidenote: § 7. Marriage of Henrietta Maria.]

Richelieu's first idea was not altogether a successful one. He encouraged Lewis to pursue the negotiation which had been already commenced for a marriage between his sister and the Prince of Wales. At the wish either of Lewis himself or of Richelieu the marriage was hampered with conditions for the religious liberty of the English Catholics, to which the prince, when he afterwards came to the throne as Charles I., was unwilling or unable to give effect. These conditions were therefore the beginning of an ill feeling between the two crowns, which helped ultimately to bring about a state of war.

[Sidenote: § 8. Foreign policy of Lewis and Richelieu.]

Nor were other causes of dispute wanting. James and his son expected France to join them in an avowed league for the recovery of the Palatinate. But to this Lewis and Richelieu refused to consent. Lewis was proud of the name of Catholic, and he was unwilling to engage in open war with the declared champions of the Catholic cause. But he was also King of France, and he was ready to satisfy his conscience by refusing to join the league, though he had no scruple in sending money to the support of armies who were fighting for Protestantism. He agreed to pay large subsidies to the Dutch, and to join the King of England in promoting an expedition which was to march under Mansfeld through France to Alsace, with the object of attacking the Palatinate. At the same time he was ready to carry on war in Italy. The Spaniards had taken military possession of the Valtelline, a valley through which lay the only secure military road from their possessions in Italy to the Austrian lands in Germany. Before the end of the year a French army entered the valley and drove out the Spaniards with ease.

[Sidenote: § 9. Mansfeld's expedition.]

Mansfeld's expedition, on the other hand, never reached Alsace at all. Before the troops of which it was composed were ready to sail from England, Richelieu had found an excuse for diverting its course. Spinola had laid siege to Breda, and the Dutch were as anxiously seeking for means to succour it as they had sought for means to succour Bergen-op-Zoom when it was besieged in 1622. The French averred that Mansfeld would be far better employed at Breda than in Alsace. At all events, they now declined positively to allow him to pass through France.

[Sidenote: 1625.

§ 10. Failure of the expedition.]

James grumbled and remonstrated in vain. At last, after long delays, Mansfeld was allowed to sail for the Dutch coast, with strict orders to march to the Palatinate without going near Breda. He had with him 12,000 English foot, and was to be accompanied by 2,000 French horse under Christian of Brunswick. No good came of the expedition. James had consented to conditions appended to his son's marriage contract which he did not venture to submit to discussion in the House of Commons, and Parliament was not, therefore, allowed to meet. Without help from Parliament the Exchequer was almost empty, and James was unable to send money with Mansfeld to pay his men. Upon their landing, the poor fellows, pressed a few weeks before, and utterly without military experience, found themselves destitute of everything in a hard frost. Before long they were dying like flies in winter. The help which they were at last permitted to give could not save Breda from surrender, and the handful which remained were far too few to cross the frontier into Germany.

[Sidenote: § 11. The rising of the French Huguenots.]

Richelieu had hoped to signalize the year 1625 by a larger effort than that of 1624. He had mastered the Valtelline in alliance with Venice and Savoy, and French troops were to help the Duke of Savoy to take Genoa, a city which was in close friendship with Spain. There was further talk of driving the Spaniards out of the Duchy of Milan, and even intervention in Germany was desired by Richelieu, though no decision had been come to on the subject. In the midst of these thoughts he was suddenly reminded that he was not completely master at home. The peace made with the Huguenots in 1622 had not been fairly kept: royal officials had encroached upon their lands, and had failed to observe the terms of the treaty. On a sudden, Soubise, a powerful Huguenot nobleman with a fleet of his own, swooped down upon some of the king's ships lying at Blavet, in Brittany, and carried them off as his prize. Sailing to Rochelle, he persuaded that great commercial city to come to an understanding with him, and to declare for open resistance to the king's authority.

[Sidenote: § 12. Interruption to Richelieu's plans for intervening in Germany.]

If Richelieu intended seriously to take part in the German war, this was cause enough for hesitation. Cleverly availing himself of the expectations formed of the French alliance in England and Holland, he contrived to borrow ships from both those countries, and before the autumn was over Soubise was driven to take refuge in England. But Rochelle and the Huguenots on land were still unconquered, and Ferdinand was safe for the moment from any considerable participation of France in the German war. Whether Richelieu would at any time be able to take up again the thread of his plans depended in the first place upon his success in suppressing rebellion, but quite as much upon the use which he might make of victory if the event proved favourable to him. A tolerant France might make war with some chances in its favour. A France composed of conquerors and conquered, in which each party regarded the other as evil-doers to be suppressed, not as erring brothers to be argued with, would weigh lightly enough in the scale of European politics.