“The Emperor was much hurt at the demonstrations of gratitude offered to the King of Poland, all of which seemed tacit reproaches to himself for abandoning his own city to the protection of another. He endeavoured to conceal his disgust and ingratitude under the veil of etiquette; and an important question was raised, as to the manner in which an Emperor of Germany should receive one of his Electors. The brave Duke of Lorraine said, ‘With open arms, if he has saved the empire;’ but the Emperor was in no humour for such cordiality. It was arranged ultimately that the sovereigns should meet on horseback in the open country. Sobieski was at the head of his troops, magnificently armed; the Emperor came plainly dressed and attended by his court, and commenced the interview by haranguing upon the services which the Poles had in all times received from the friendship and protection of the Emperors. At last he let fall some slight expression of gratitude for the deliverance of Vienna. The King said, as he turned his horse away, ‘My brother, I am very glad to have done you this little service,’[21] and concluded the conversation by causing his army to defile before the Emperor.”[22]
Leopold’s ingratitude was not confined to words. The promises and pledges which had been lavished to induce Sobieski to march to the relief of Vienna, were broken and neglected after the service had been rendered; and even worse than this, the Emperor refused to supply the Poles with provisions and beasts of burthen when proceeding to fight his own battles in Hungary. Sobieski recovered that kingdom which had been promised to him if he expelled the infidels, but he recovered it not for himself, but the Emperor. On October 12, a second victory, which he characterized as greater than that of Vienna, delivered it finally from the Ottoman yoke. The rejoicing of the Christian world was universal when the result of the campaign was known; for all, Catholic and Protestant, had been alike alarmed at the rapid and overpowering advance of the Turkish force. At Rome the rejoicings continued for a month, and the standard of the Prophet was borne in triumph from church to church, and from convent to convent, as the most glorious signal of the defeat and humiliation of the false religion.
It is melancholy to reflect that the close of this great man’s life was embittered by a factious nobility, an intriguing wife, and domestic discords. “Sick of the court, he fled into the forests, or wandered from one castle to another, or pitched his tent wherever a beautiful valley, picturesque landscapes, the mountain torrent, or any natural object attracted his attention. Sick, too, of the world, he sought for consolation in religion and philosophy. There might be something of pedantry in his manners, but he was sincerely attached to letters. He not only cultivated them with assiduity himself, but recommended the study of them to others, and patronized all who excelled in them.
“At length the end of this great man approached. The immediate cause of his death is wrapped in mystery. He had been recommended to take a strong dose of mercury (his infirmities for some time had been neither few nor light): was it too strong for his constitution to support? so at least some thought; so even he appeared to suspect.”[23] He died on the double anniversary of his birth and his accession to the throne, twenty-three years after the latter event, in 1697, in the 68th year of his age; and by a singular coincidence, his birth and death were each signalized by a tempest of uncommon and fearful violence.
One might suppose that the spirit of Leopold had descended on all Austrian statesmen. Within a century of the triumphal entry of Sobieski into Vienna, Poland ceased to be an independent kingdom, and the co-operation of Austria was rewarded with a third of her spoils. It seems vain to expect gratitude in international dealings; yet we might almost have supposed that the recollection of the deliverance of Vienna would have deterred Austria from sharing in so unprovoked and profligate an injustice. The situation and the policy of Europe have altered strangely since the period of which we speak. Poland has fallen before the arms of Russia, and Turkey preserves a precarious independence only by the policy of Christian powers, the supine witnesses or interested sharers in the spoliation of a Christian kingdom, which, having been the bulwark of Europe against Turkey as long as Turkey was formidable, would have formed an equally effectual barrier against the encroachments of Russia.
There is another class of battles, from which the reader will expect some to be selected for comparison with the great events of the Persian war; those memorable struggles in which a disparity of force which seemed to make resistance hopeless, has not deterred an invaded people from asserting its independence, nor secured the invader from total defeat. Among them the long series of battles by which the freedom of Switzerland was ascertained and secured claims a foremost place; and we are led to take our examples thence, rather than from other history, by a resemblance, perhaps not more than superficial, between the circumstances of the Cantons and of the Greek republics. In either case it was the same class who fought: the Swiss, like the Grecian armies, were composed not of mercenary men at arms, nor vassals bound to follow their lord in public or in private quarrel; but of citizens trained to the use of arms, and habituated to consider military service as a privilege. Among them none pleaded birth or wealth as excuses for not serving in the ranks, or disdained to fight except as the commander of others. We may also notice, that since the time of Charlemagne the infantry service had generally fallen into disrepute and neglect,[24] and the strength of armies was estimated by their heavy-armed cavalry, the only capacity in which a knight or noble would condescend to serve. As the Athenians were the first Greeks who endured the sight of the Median dress, and the men who wore it, so the Swiss were the first infantry who dared unsupported to abide the furious charge of the high-born and high-spirited nobility. Here the nature of their country was a valuable auxiliary; and the brilliant successes which they wrought, partly by advantage of ground, but chiefly by their courage, strength, and constancy, aided by a real though not apparent superiority in arms and discipline, led, in conjunction with the invention of gunpowder, to a revolution in war, and re-established the infantry service in its due superiority.
From a number of battles almost equally worthy of our attention, we select two—those fought at Morgarten and Sempach. That of Morgarten claims our notice as the first of the series, and as that in which the disproportion of the combatants is most striking. We take our account from a contemporary chronicler, whose father was a soldier in the Austrian army. The writer’s prejudices are obvious; still he is honest enough to let it appear that the Swiss had done all that was consistent with honour and independence to avoid a war. The parties were, on the one side, the whole power of Austria, on the other the three Waldstetten, or Forest Cantons (with which Lucern was afterwards associated as a fourth), Schwitz, Uri, and Underwalden. The pretended ground of invasion was a quarrel between these mountaineers and the wealthy and powerful Abbey of Einsiedlen, which solicited the Duke of Austria’s assistance: the real ground is to be found in that prince’s jealousy of the principles of liberty asserted by the Swiss, and recently acted on by Tell and his confederates.
“In the year of our Lord 1315, a rural tribe of certain valleys begirt with high mountains, called Schwitz, revolted from its allegiance, trusting in those mountains as its firmest bulwark, and withheld the tribute and service due to Duke Leopold; who being much angered, collected an army of 20,000 men, select soldiers, most skilful and bold in battle, to overcome, spoil, and subdue those rebel mountaineers. Therefore these soldiers met, as of one accord, to tame and humble the rustics, and, making very sure of the victory, and of the spoil and plunder of the land, they took ropes and halters to lead them away bound among their flocks and herds. The Schwitzers, hearing all this, were in much dread, and fortified the weaker passes into their country with walls and trenches, and commended themselves to God with prayers, fasting, and processions. Moreover they gave charge to various persons to go to the mountain paths, by which there was a way into their land, and there keep watch in the narrow straits. And all was done as had been ordered, and the whole people cried to God with much earnestness, and humbled their souls in fasting, men and women, and besought God with one voice that their herds might not be given as a prey, nor their wives as a booty, nor their homes be made a desolation, nor their honour and virtue a pollution. Therefore they prayed the Lord with their whole heart, that he would visit his people, saying, ‘Lord God of heaven and earth, behold these men’s pride, and have regard to our lowliness, and show that thou desertest not those who trust in thee, and humblest whosoever trusteth in himself, and boasteth his own valour.’ Then, repenting of their contumacy, they sought peace through the mediation of the Count of Toggenburg; but Duke Leopold was too much angered to receive their submission, and would hear of nothing but treading them under foot, and scattering them and their goods. So the Schwitzers took arms, and posted themselves in the narrow passes, and watched there day and night.”
Owing to the necessity of guarding the whole frontier, which was threatened on three points, only 1300 men could be collected to oppose the numerous and well-appointed army of Austria, of whom 600 belonged to Schwitz, 400 to Uri, and 300 to Underwalden. By the advice of Rudolph Reding, an aged veteran, whose judgment in such matters was considered decisive, they posted themselves near Morgarten, where a defile, bounded on one side by Lake Egeri, and on the other by Mount Sattel, presented a favourable situation for a small body of men to resist the attack of a far larger force.
“And on the day of St. Othmar (Oct. 25) Duke Leopold, endeavouring to pass into their country by a way between a mountain and lake, named Egrer Seu, was much hindered by the height and steepness of the mountain. For the knights on horseback, boiling with the desire of action, and crowding into the front ranks, entirely prevented the infantry from ascending, seeing that there was scarce room to fix or to preserve the footing. But the Schwitzers, knowing from the above-named Count of Toggenburg that the attack would be made there, and perceiving how much their enemy would be hampered by the difficulty of the way, went down against them from their lurking-places, animated and in high heart, and attacked them like a fish in a net, and slew them without resistance. For they wore, according to custom, certain iron instruments[25] in their shoes, with which they could walk easily upon mountains, though never so steep, where the enemy and their horses could not so much as plant their feet. And they carried certain deadly weapons, called helnbarts in the vulgar tongue, very terrible, with which they cut asunder the best armed men as with a razor. That was no battle, but rather a slaughter of Duke Leopold’s people, as of a flock led to sacrifice. They spared no one, and cared to take no prisoners, but smote all persons indifferently, even to the death. Such as were not slain by them were drowned in the lake, endeavouring to escape by swimming; some, even of the infantry, hearing that their best soldiers were so cruelly struck down by the Schwitzers, leapt into the lake from mere fear, choosing rather to sink under its depths than to fall into the hands of so dreadful a foe. Fifteen hundred men are said to have fallen by the edge of the sword, besides those who were drowned: and by reason of the number of knights who were lost there, knighthood was scarce in the surrounding country for a long time, for few perished save knights and other nobles, trained to arms from childhood. I myself, being then a school-boy, going out with others to meet my father with no small joy, saw Duke Leopold returning, like one half dead with sorrow. Well might he appear downcast and moody, for he there lost almost all the valour and strength of his army.”[26]