He offered, at his own expense, and that of his friends, to raise, clothe, and maintain an army for the emperor, if he were allowed to augment it to fifty thousand men. His project was ridiculed as visionary; but the offer was too valuable to be rejected. In a few months, he had collected an army of thirty thousand. Character of Wallenstein. His reputation, the prospect of promotion, and the hope of plunder, attracted adventurers from all parts of Germany. Knowing that so large a body could not be held together without great resources, and having none of his own, he marched his troops into the most fertile territories, which had not yet suffered from the war, where they subsisted by contributions and plunder, as obnoxious to their friends as they were to their enemies. Nothing shows the weakness of the imperial power, with all its apparent strength, and the barbarous notions and customs of the country, more than this grant to Wallenstein. And, with all his heroism and success, he cannot now be viewed in any other light than as a licensed robber. He was virtually at the head of a troop of banditti, who fought for the sake of plunder, and who would join any side which would present the greatest hopes of gain. The genius of Schiller, both in his dramas and histories, has immortalized the name of this unprincipled hero, and has excited a strange interest in his person, his family, and his fortunes. He is represented as "born to command. His acute eye distinguished at a glance, from among the multitude, such as were competent, and he assigned to each his proper place. His praise, from being rarely bestowed, animated and brought into full operation every faculty; while his steady, reserved, and earnest demeanor secured obedience and discipline. His very appearance excited awe and reverence; his figure was proud, lofty, and warlike, while his bright, piercing eye expressed profundity of thought, combined with gravity and mystery. His favorite study was that of the stars, and his most intimate friend was an Italian astrologer. He had a fondness for pomp and extravagance. He maintained sixty pages; his ante-chamber was guarded by fifty life-guards, and his table never consisted of less than one hundred covers. Six barons and as many knights were in constant attendance on his person. He never smiled, and the coldness of his temperament was proof against sensual seductions. Ever occupied with grand schemes, he despised those amusements in which so many waste their lives. Terror was the talisman with which he worked: extreme in his punishments as in his rewards, he knew how to keep alive the zeal of his followers, while no general of ancient or modern times could boast of being obeyed with equal alacrity. Submission to his will was more prized by him than bravery, and he kept up the obedience of his troops by capricious orders. He was a man of large stature, thin, of a sallow complexion, with short, red hair, and small, sparkling eyes. A gloomy and forbidding seriousness sat upon his brow, and his munificent presents alone retained the trembling crowd of his dependants."
Such was this enterprising nobleman, to whom the emperor Ferdinand committed so great authority. And the success of Wallenstein apparently justified the course of the emperor. The greater his extortions, and the greater his rewards, the greater was the concourse to his standard. Such is human nature. It is said that, in seven years, Wallenstein exacted not less than sixty millions of dollars from one half of Germany—an incredible sum, when the expenditure of the government of England, at this time, was less than two million pounds a year. His armies flourished, while the states through which they passed were ruined. What cared he for the curses of the people, or the complaints of princes, so long as his army adored him? It was his object to humble all the princes of the empire, and make himself so necessary to the emperor that he would gradually sink to become his tool. He already was created Duke of Friedland, and generalissimo of the imperial armies. Nor had his victorious career met with any severe check, but uninterrupted success seemed to promise the realization of his vast ambition. Germany lay bleeding at his feet, helpless and indignant.
But the greatness and the insolence of Wallenstein raised up enemies against him in all parts of the empire. Fear and jealousy increased the opposition, even in the ranks of the Catholics. His dismissal was demanded by the whole college of electors, and even by Spain. Maximilian, Duke of Bavaria, felt himself eclipsed by the successful general, and was at the head of the cabals against him.
The emperor felt, at this crisis, as Ganganelli did when compelled to disband the Jesuits, that he was parting with the man to whom he owed all his supremacy. Long was he undecided whether or not he would make the sacrifice. But all Germany was clamorous, and the disgrace of Wallenstein was ordained.
Would the ambitious chieftain, at the head of one hundred thousand devoted soldiers, regard the commands of the emperor? He made up his mind to obey, looking to the future for revenge, and feeling that he could afford to wait for it. Seni had read in the stars that glorious prospects still awaited him. Wallenstein retired to his estates in Bohemia, but maintained the pomp and splendor of a prince of the empire.
Scarcely had he retired from the command of the army before his services were again demanded. One hero produces another. A Wellington is ever found to oppose a Napoleon. Providence raised up a friend to Germany, in its distress, in the person of Gustavus Adolphus. Gustavus Adolphus, King of Sweden. It was not for personal aggrandizement that he lent his powerful arm to the Protestant princes, who, thus far, had vainly struggled against Maximilian, Tilly, and Wallenstein. Zeal for Protestantism, added to strong provocations, induced him to land in Germany with fifteen thousand men—a small body to oppose the victorious troops of the emperor, but they were brave and highly disciplined, and devoted to their royal master. He himself was indisputably the greatest general of the age, and had the full confidence of the Protestant princes, who were ready to rally the moment he obtained any signal advantage. Henceforth, Gustavus Adolphus was the hero of the war. He was more than a hero; he was a Christian, regardful of the morals of his soldiers, and devoted to the interests of spiritual religion. He was frugal, yet generous, serene in the greatest danger; and magnanimous beyond all precedent in the history of kings. On the 20th of May, 1630, taking his daughter Christiana in his arms, then only four years of age, he presented her to the states as their future sovereign, and made his farewell address. "Not lightly, not wantonly," said he, "am I about to involve myself and you in this new and dangerous war. God is my witness that I do not fight to gratify my own ambition; but the emperor has wronged me, has supported my enemies, persecuted my friends, trampled my religion in the dust, and even stretched forth his revengeful arm against my crown. The oppressed states of Germany call loudly for aid, which, by God's help, we will give them.
"I am fully sensible of the dangers to which my life will be exposed. I have never yet shrunk from them, nor is it likely that I shall always escape them. Hitherto, Providence has protected me; but I shall at last fall in defence of my country and my faith. I commend you to the protection of Heaven. Be just, conscientious, and upright, and we shall meet again in eternity. For the prosperity of all my subjects, I offer my warmest prayer to Heaven; and bid you all a sincere—it may be an eternal—farewell."
He had scarcely landed in Germany before his victorious career began. France concluded a treaty with him, and he advanced against Tilly, who now headed the imperial armies.
The tardiness of the Electors of Saxony and Brandenburg in rendering assistance caused the Loss of Magdeburg. loss of Magdeburg, the most important fortress of the Protestants. It was taken by assault, even while Gustavus was advancing to its relief. No pen can paint, and no imagination can conceive, the horrors which were perpetrated by the imperial soldiers in the sack of that unfortunate place. Neither childhood nor helpless age—neither youth, beauty, sex, nor rank could disarm the fury of the conquerors. No situation or retreat was sacred. In a single church fifty-three women were beheaded. The Croats amused themselves with throwing children into the flames. Pappenheim's Walloons stabbed infants at the breast. The city was reduced to ashes, and thirty thousand of the inhabitants were slain.
But the loss of this important city was soon compensated by the battle of Leipsic, 1630, which the King of Sweden gained over the imperial forces, and in which the Elector of Saxony at last rendered valuable aid. The rout of Tilly, hitherto victorious, was complete, and he himself escaped only by chance. Saxony was freed from the enemy, while Bohemia, Moravia, Austria, and Hungary, were stripped of their defenders. Ferdinand was no longer secure in his capital; the freedom of Germany was secured. Gustavus was every where hailed as a deliverer, and admiration for his genius was only equalled by the admiration of his virtues. He rapidly regained all that the Protestants had lost, and the fruits of twelve years of war were snatched away from the emperor. Tilly was soon after killed, and all things indicated the complete triumph of the Protestants.