At length, in 1630, Gustavus landed on the island of Usedom, at the mouth of the Oder.
“So we have got another kingling on our hands,” the emperor exclaimed in scorn, when the news reached Vienna. Little did the enemies of the Reformation then imagine what a terrible and irresistible foe this despised “kingling” would prove to be. The army of Gustavus consisted of only fifteen thousand men; but, if his army was small, the material was indeed valuable. Gustavus said of his staff of officers, “All these are captains, and fit to command armies.” And when his early death left them without a leader, these same officers led the Swedish armies so successfully that, even after France had become her ally, Sweden was not obscured, but still held a prominent place in the mighty contest. Gustavus had determined not to hazard a battle until he was joined by German allies. As soon as they landed on the island of Usedom, Gustavus, having leaped first upon the shore, at once fell upon his knees, and sought the aid and blessing of God; and then the working and the praying went hand in hand. He was the first to seize a spade; and, as the troops landed, one half were employed in raising intrenchments, while the other half stood in battle array, to repel any attacks of the enemy. It was a long time before any German ally appeared; for, though gallant little Hesse Cassel boldly announced its allegiance, it was a power too small and too distant to count for much. The two most powerful of the German Protestant princes were his brother-in-law, the elector of Brandenburg, and the elector of Saxony. John George of Saxony was a great hunter, having killed with his own hand or seen killed 113,629 wild animals. He was, however, such a great drunkard that he was called the Beer King. But this bold Nimrod, who could fight wild animals so courageously, was too cowardly to come forward against the enemies of his country, and only joined Gustavus when the terrors of the Catholic league forced him to seek safety in such an alliance.
As to the brother-in-law of Gustavus, little was to be obtained from him. He was so vacillating in character and in politics that Carlyle says of him, “Poor man, it was his fate to stand in the range of these huge collisions, when the Titans were hurling rocks at one another, and he hoped by dexterous skipping to escape share of the game.”
The arrival of Gustavus Adolphus in Germany was at first looked upon with indifference by the imperial court. The emperor Ferdinand said carelessly, “We have another little enemy before us.” At Vienna they made sport of Gustavus and of his pretensions to require himself to be called “Your majesty,” like the other kings of Europe. “The snow-king will melt as he approaches the southern sun,” they exclaimed derisively. But the valiant Swedes worked on at their fortifications at Pomerania, indifferent to the sneers of their foes, inspired by the example of their loved leader, whose watchword was, “to pray often to God with all your heart is almost to conquer.” In a short time, the army was enclosed in an intrenched camp, defended by cannon. The king of Sweden then addressed these stirring words to his soldiers:—
“It is as much on your account as for your religious brethren in Germany that I have undertaken this war. You will there gather imperishable glory. You have nothing to fear from the enemy; they are the same whom you have already conquered in Prussia. Your bravery has imposed on Poland an armistice of six years; if you continue to fight as valiantly, I hope to obtain an honorable peace for your country and guaranties of security for the German Protestants. Old soldiers, it is not of yesterday you have known war; for you have shared with me all the chances of fortune. You must not lose courage if you experience some wants. I will conduct you to an enemy who has enriched himself at the expense of that unhappy country. It is only with the enemy you can find money, abundance, and all which you desire.”
Thus did Gustavus appeal to their courage, their patriotism, their religious enthusiasm, and their personal necessities, and inspire his soldiers with irresistible valor.
The severe discipline of the Swedish troops excited not less admiration than the personal virtue of their king. Richelieu, in his memoirs, says, “As to the king of Sweden personally, there was seen in his actions but an inexorable severity towards the least excess of his soldiers, an extraordinary mildness towards the people, and an exact justice on all occasions.”
It was at the time of the landing of the Swedes that the noted general Wallenstein had fallen into disgrace with the German emperor, and had been discharged from the imperial service. His place was filled by Tilly, a military chieftain of high renown. Tilly had made himself the terror of the Protestants by his bigoted zeal for the Catholic religion and his fierce spirit of persecution towards the Reformed Faith; but his military insight made him just enough to thus generously describe his famous antagonist:—
“The king of Sweden is an enemy both prudent and brave, inured to war, and in the flower of his age. His plans are excellent, his resources considerable, his subjects enthusiastically attached to him. His army,—composed of Swedes, Germans, Livonians, Finlanders, Scots, and English,—by its devoted obedience to their leader, is blended into one nation. He is a gamester, in playing with whom not to have lost is to have won a great deal.”
Gustavus was beginning to make a strong position in northern Germany, when he received an envoy from the elector of Brandenburg, urging him to consent to an armistice, the elector offering himself as a mediator between the Swedish king and the Catholic league. Gustavus thus answered this weak and cowardly advice of the elector:—