It is probable that when count Thurn and his companions threw the regents out of the window at Prague, they only intended to snap the cord which bound Bohemia and the House of Austria together, and pictured to themselves as the result of their rash act an independent Protestant Bohemia, ruled by themselves and their brother nobles under the nominal sovereignty of a puppet king of their own choosing. At first it seemed as if they were right. Germany was inclined to let king and rebellious subjects fight out the battle by themselves. John George of Saxony and Maximilian of Bavaria refused to interfere. Spain promised aid but did not send it. Matthias and Ferdinand had but fourteen thousand men under Bucquoi, a Spanish general who had served with distinction in the Netherlands, upon whom to rely. Behind that army lay an empty treasury and a discontented people. If the Bohemian revolution had had in it anything of the spirit of calm and disinterested patriotism, capable of making all sacrifices, and determined to face all consequences, which was characteristic of the Swiss and the Dutch revolutions, the knell of the House of Austria must have sounded. But it was not so. The unconquerable spirit was with Ferdinand. A mean desire to make other people bear the burdens, while they enjoyed the fruits, of successful rebellion marked the conduct of the Bohemian leaders. A body of directors, thirty in number, was formed under the guidance of Ruppa, the ablest and most honourable of the insurgents. A diet was held to carry on the affairs of the country while Thurn took command of the army. Orders were given to raise troops, but the question at once arose who was to pay for them? The first suggestion was that the towns should have that honour, but the towns not unnaturally refused the heroic rôle of self-sacrifice so thoughtfully proposed to them by the nobles. Fresh taxes were then voted, but no one even attempted to raise them. On the news of the advance of Bucquoi towards Budweis, a Catholic town which still remained true to the Emperor, a panic seized the directors and the diet. A general levy of the male population was ordered, the raising of the taxes already voted was proposed, but rather than face so disagreeable a question the members of the diet slunk quietly home. It was like schoolboys playing at rebellion. Some of the levies made their appearance in the camp of Thurn, but there were no arms to put into their hands, no officers to train them, no money to pay them. It is not thus that successful revolutions are made. The Bohemian nobles were but a faction, fighting for licence and for power under the sacred names of liberty, of patriotism, and of religion. They must have met the fitting reward of their selfishness and their arrogance at the hands of Bucquoi and his fourteen thousand half-starved and badly paid troops, had it not been for the timely interference of other powers.
Charles Emmanuel of Savoy had not abandoned his enmity to the Austro-Spanish House because he had been obliged to make his peace with Spain after the death of Henry IV. Interference of Charles Emmanuel of Savoy. Of a restless and ambitious nature, but by no means devoid of natural prudence, no sooner did he hear of the revolution in Bohemia than he determined to do all in his power to assist it, provided he could do so secretly. With this object he opened negotiations with Frederick V., Elector Palatine. Frederick had succeeded to the electorate on the death of his father in 1610. Young, handsome, enthusiastic, he was readily attracted by the difficulties of an undertaking, without having sufficient mental power to surmount them. In politics he was a pupil of Christian of Anhalt, in religion a zealous Calvinist, and he looked upon himself, and was looked upon by others, as the natural leader of the German Calvinists, and the determined foe of the House of Austria and the Counter-Reformation. His political opinions had lately become of more importance to the world, through his marriage with the beautiful Elizabeth, the daughter of James I. of England. It was known that James was bent upon an alliance with Spain, and desired nothing less than to be mixed up in an European war. Still it was equally certain that he had by no means resigned the position of ally and defender of Protestantism, which he had inherited from his predecessor; and that there was a large and influential party in England, who looked upon the marriage with the Elector as a guarantee of a more decided Protestant policy.
Frederick had been the first German prince to congratulate the Bohemians on their rebellion, and offer them assistance. In July 1618 he sent a confidential agent to Prague to report upon the state of affairs, and to assure the directors of the support of the Protestant Union, should Spain or Bavaria send help to the Emperor. It was at this juncture that Charles Emmanuel appeared upon the scene, and offered through the Elector Palatine to send Mansfeld with two thousand men at once to the assistance of the Bohemians, if it could be made to appear that the troops were sent by the Elector himself. Frederick at once agreed. Mansfeld sent to assist the Bohemians. The real truth was known only to the Elector Palatine, Christian of Anhalt, and the margrave of Anspach, and when Mansfeld arrived at the scene of war in September 1618, and formed the siege of Pilsen, all the world believed that he was acting on behalf of Frederick, and many concluded that the Elector would not have dared to take so serious a step, unless he had reason to reckon on the support of England. The relief was well-timed, but the arrangement was not very creditable to any of the parties concerned, for Mansfeld, though an able soldier, was one of that class of military adventurers ever bred in times of war to be the bane and scourge of the helpless and inoffensive people. To put such a man in command, at the beginning of a national struggle, was to stamp it at once as a war of brutality and plunder. Further assistance sent from Silesia. His arrival, however, at Pilsen changed the face of affairs. The Silesians hearing the action, as they thought, of the Elector Palatine resolved to interfere, and sent three thousand men to the assistance of the Bohemians. Bucquoi in the face of these reinforcements, not only checked his advance on Prague, but was soon obliged to fall back to Budweis, where he was besieged by Thurn. On the 21st of November Pilsen surrendered to Mansfeld, and by the end of the year Budweis with its beleaguered garrison was all that was left to the Emperor of his Bohemian kingdom and army.
Death of Matthias. Accession of Ferdinand, 1619.
The year 1619 opened still more darkly for the House of Austria. The worn-out Emperor sank at last into his grave on the 20th of March, and men felt that with the accession of Ferdinand the time for compromise had passed. If they wanted to win the day, they must strike quickly before he could rally to his aid the unwieldy forces of the Empire and of Spain. Negotiations which had been begun at Eger were at once stopped. The diets of Silesia Moravia and Lusatia openly joined the Bohemian cause, and arranged with Bohemia the contingent which they should each provide for the common army, and the proportion of votes which they were to have in the election of a new Bohemian king. Revolt in Austria. The estates of Upper and Lower Austria, who were mainly Protestant, adopted the cause of the Bohemians as their own, voted men for the war, seized and administered the archducal estates, and summoned Thurn and the Bohemian army to their aid. Nothing loth Thurn, leaving Hohenlohe to watch Bucquoi, swooped down upon Vienna hoping to end the war and secure the success of the revolution by a brilliant coup de main. On June 2d, Ferdinand, defenceless, harassed, hopeless, had consented to give audience to a deputation of the estates, who were to urge upon him, as the only chance of deliverance, the recognition of the Bohemian revolution, and the establishment in Austria of a separately organised Protestant government. None knew better than Ferdinand himself that if he refused those terms the gates of Vienna would be opened to Thurn and his army. That very night might find him a prisoner in the hands of his greatest foe. Yet at this crisis of his life, and of the fate of Europe, he never faltered. ‘If it be God’s will,’ he said, ‘let me perish in the struggle.’ He was ready to perish, not an inch would he yield. The deputation became excited. They pressed round him clamorously. Eagerly they urged, imperiously they demanded the acceptance of their terms. One deputy had actually, it is said, his hand upon the archduke’s person, when suddenly there rang through the hall a trumpet blast, and the streets were alive with the confused noise which heralds the arrival of soldiers. It was a regiment of loyal cavalry, the vanguard of reinforcements ordered up from the country by Ferdinand.
The crisis was over. The deputation dispersed abashed and afraid for their own safety. The very next day Thurn arrived before the gates of the city, and found them shut, and the walls manned. He had not resources for a siege, and retired back again across the frontier as quick as he had come. He was only just in time, Bucquoi had at last received reinforcements from the Spanish Netherlands, and leaving part of his army to watch Hohenlohe at Budweis suddenly fell upon Mansfeld, who was marching to join Hohenlohe at Zablat, and completely destroyed his army. The siege of Budweis was at once raised, and Bucquoi advanced into south Bohemia driving Hohenlohe before him, until he was suddenly recalled to defend Pressburg and Vienna from the advance of Bethlen Gabor, Prince of Transylvania, who had just declared for the Bohemians. Among those who distinguished themselves at the battle of Zablat was a Bohemian noble, who commanded one of the Walloon regiments of cavalry, count Albert von Waldstein.
Ferdinand elected Emperor, 1619.
Hardly had Ferdinand escaped from the attack of his enemies at Vienna, than he had to betake himself to Frankfort to support his interests at the approaching imperial election. At first sight there seemed little doubt of his success, as he was certain of the three ecclesiastical votes, which, with his own vote as king of Bohemia, would give him the majority. But the elector of Saxony took a formal objection to the exercise by Ferdinand of the Bohemian vote, until the settlement of the Bohemian question had made it clear that the Crown was rightfully his, and all felt that it would not be safe to proceed to an election until so formidable a legal point had been decided. The way therefore was still open to the Calvinist representatives, the Elector Palatine and the margrave of Brandenburg, by clever management to avoid the election of Ferdinand, if they could not actually secure that of their own nominee. If they had at once supported with their whole strength the policy of John George, they would have at least postponed the election of Ferdinand indefinitely, and united the Protestant interest. But the Elector Palatine, led by Christian of Anhalt, could not bring himself to play second fiddle to the elector of Saxony. They wished themselves to be emperor-makers. Christian of Anhalt had gone a weary journey to Turin to try and make terms with Charles Emmanuel of Savoy. Maximilian of Bavaria was sounded, but gave a definite refusal, and so it happened that when the electoral diet met on the 20th of July, the Calvinists were without a candidate and without a policy. John George, nettled at seeing his own policy contemptuously set aside and nothing put in its place, shrank from intrusting the institutions of the Empire to such rash and incapable hands. He instructed his representative to withdraw his objection to the vote of Ferdinand for Bohemia, and to record his own vote in his favour. Frederick and the elector of Brandenburg, seeing that a majority was now obtained irrespective of Ferdinand’s own vote, made a virtue of necessity. On the 28th of August Ferdinand was unanimously elected, and all that Christian and Frederick had achieved by their notable policy was to attach John George firmly to the Emperor’s side.
Deposition of Ferdinand as king of Bohemia by the revolutionary party. Election of Frederick Elector Palatine.
The evil consequences of this suicidal step were quickly seen. Ten days before Ferdinand was elected at Frankfort he had been solemnly deposed at Prague. On the 27th of August the Elector Palatine was elected king of Bohemia in his place, and was called upon to decide whether or not he would accept the Crown. The decision was a momentous one. No longer could the question be treated merely as one between the House of Austria and one of its dependencies, if the struggle against Ferdinand was to be headed by the leader of the Calvinists and an elector of the Empire. German interests of the greatest magnitude were involved. In such a quarrel the welfare of Germany was no less at stake than that of Austria or of Bohemia. Importance of the crisis. If Frederick and the Calvinists successfully established themselves in Bohemia, the balance of power at present existing among the princes of the Empire and the two divisions of the Protestant world would be rudely shaken, and the traditional leadership of the German Protestants would pass from Dresden to Heidelberg. Men were not prepared to see Christian of Anhalt the dictator of Germany, or Geneva victorious over Rome and Wittenberg alike. On the other hand, was it likely that Maximilian of Bavaria and the ecclesiastical princes would stand tamely by while the champion of their religion was dispossessed of his territories and his power scattered to the winds? Nor did the danger end there. Spain had already sent money and troops to the aid of Ferdinand,—would she be deterred by the prospect of the English marriage alliance, so strenuously urged upon her by James I., from throwing her whole weight into the struggle, when it once became clear that the war was a war of religion as much as a war of politics? Would the Pope hesitate to preach a crusade against the aggression of Frederick, and prepare a second St. Bartholomew for the Calvinists of Germany? And if the Catholic powers banded themselves together against the Elector, and determined to risk all rather than suffer the tide of the Counter-Reformation to be forced back, could James I. himself be so deaf to natural affection, so unmindful of the traditions of England, so careless of English opinion, as to refuse to draw the sword to save his son-in-law and Protestantism from ruin at the hands of Spain and the Pope? Sober men asked themselves these questions. Before their frightened eyes rose the spectre of a religious war which should desolate not merely Germany but Europe. They applied themselves earnestly but unavailingly to make Frederick understand the gravity of the situation. His own mother and councillors, the ambassador of France, even the landgrave of Hesse-Cassel, urged him to decline the tempting offer. Only Christian of Anhalt and his followers shut their eyes to the inevitable and forced him on. Acceptance of the Crown of Bohemia by Frederick. Frederick himself wished to delay his answer until he could find out from England if his father-in-law would support him, but delay would not suit the Bohemians or Christian of Anhalt. Urged on by his own vanity and his leader’s ambition, he plunged blindly into the abyss which opened out before him. On the 25th of September 1619, he formally notified his acceptance to the Bohemian diet, and on the 4th of November was crowned with great state in the cathedral of Prague.