The Thirty Years War

by C. V. Wedgwood

  The situation was partly saved by the extreme poverty of Bohemia, which could provide wine but no bread for the Swedish soldiery,[79] by the failure of Sigismund of Transylvania on whose help Torstensson counted as, long before, Frederick had counted on Bethlen Gabor,[80] and by the obstinate valour of Brünn which, under a French soldier of fortune, held up the Swedish advance for nearly five months before the invaders at length raised the siege and withdrew again to the borders.[81]

  The battle of Jankau proved thus less immediately effective than had been hoped or feared, and its only definite result on the congress at Münster was the Emperor’s decision to release the Elector of Treves. This he did at the instance of the Pope, the other spiritual Electors and the French.[82]

  Meanwhile the simultaneous invasion of Turenne was checked by Werth who, hastening back from Bohemia, took the French by surprise near Mergentheim and defeated them with considerable loss.[83] Falling back towards the Rhine, Turenne first felt it his duty to resign, but he took courage from Mazarin’s unshaken confidence and joined forces with a fresh army under Enghien. In the summer of 1645 they advanced rapidly on the Danube, and effected a junction with a detachment of Swedes under Königsmarck.[84] Cautiously, Mercy withdrew southwards. He was outnumbered and could not hope to do more than hold the line of the Danube. But at this moment Königsmarck was suddenly recalled to Bohemia, and the position changed. Mercy decided to contest the French advance, and on July 24th 1645, he entrenched himself on a group of hills to the southeast of Nördlingen, near Allerheim.

  When Enghien, in the face of the entrenched Bavarian artillery, gave the order to scale the hill, tradition relates that Mercy flung his arms round his wife’s neck in a transport of joy and exclaimed, ‘Now they have delivered themselves into our hands’. The story is apocryphal, for Mercy had no wife nor was he given to displays of emotion.[85]

  Against all expectation the furia francese won the position from the Bavarian defence. Yet it was a Pyrrhic victory, for Enghien and Turenne were too tired to pursue, and their losses, in men and officers, were crippling. The Bavarians retreated safely to Donauwörth, their original objective, and entrenched themselves firmly against further attack.[86] One irreparable loss befell the Bavarians and the imperial cause. Franz von Mercy, incomparably the best of their commanders, the man who had held the Black Forest for two years against Turenne and the veteran army of the Bernardines, had been killed.

  The invasion of Bohemia and the advance of the French along the Danube had both been partially checked, but neither imperial arms nor imperial diplomacy could check the desertion of the German allies. As early as June 1644 Frederick William of Brandenburg had made his peace with Sweden; this truce left John George alone against Torstensson in the north-east, and Ferdinand was too weak to send troops to help him. His family, who had always disapproved of their father’s leaning to the imperial side, urged him to follow Brandenburg’s example, and Torstensson, rising to this admirable occasion for freeing his rear and flank of enemies, gave good terms. A preliminary truce was settled at Kötschenbroda in August 1645.[87]

  This removal of the last barrier against the Swedish advance upon the Hapsburg lands was a crushing blow to Ferdinand. Worse still, it loosened the already weak allegiance of Maximilian, who was far too practical to be left for long alone on a sinking ship. He had already managed through his delegate at Münster to indicate that he was amenable to any private peace in which his interests received proper consideration, and the French government, which had never altogether deserted its old policy of alliance with him against the Hapsburg, welcomed this new chance. The imperial alliance, weakening for the past two years, was held together by a thread in the spring of 1646, a consideration which had noticeable effect on the congress at Münster.

  5.

  At the low tide of the imperial fortunes, on November 29th 1645, Count von Trautmansdorff entered Münster incognito and late in the evening, bearing with him the personal instructions of the Emperor. Not until the following morning did he give any official intimation of his coming,[88] and then the ingenuity of his arrival was favourably commented on by both sides. The chief French ambassador, Longueville, had entered with ostentatious grandeur, to the exasperation of his opponents.[89] The Spaniard, Peñaranda, had made a laughing-stock of himself by timing a solemn entry in the pouring rain with an inadequate suite, so that the burgomaster and councillors who came to meet him received him very hurriedly, their best clothes smothered under rainproof cloaks, and his train, such as it was, did no justice to itself. Only one carriage was open, and from this a sparkish diplomat bowed gracefully to the sparse spectators, until one of his polite gestures brought him into contact with a stack of earthenware exposed for sale in the narrow street and sent it clattering to the ground, after which he disappeared rapidly inside his carriage.[90] Trautmansdorff, by entering in perfect secrecy, avoided both jealousy and ridicule, and prepared his adversaries to meet a man of practical good sense and no pretensions.

  He paid a visit first to the Spanish, then to the French ambassadors; the latter, who had been ready to be offended at not being visited first, were disarmed almost at once by his good humour.[91] They saw a thick-set, tall, singularly ugly man, with nothing of the aristocrat in his appearance; he was flat-nosed, with high cheek-bones and dark, very deepset eyes under thick, frowning brows, his face surmounted by a shabby wig combed forward in a fringe that overhung his eyebrows.[92] In spite of this extraordinary appearance, Trautmansdorff seems to have impressed both them and, later, the Swedes as a straightforward, capable man who knew what his master wanted.

  His coming was in itself a final proof that imperial hesitation was over, for Trautmansdorff was the closest friend Ferdinand had; he had been the chief minister in the State ever since Eggenberg died, and the first adviser of Ferdinand himself since he grew to manhood. If any man could interpret accurately the imperial reaction to each new development at Münster and act accordingly, Trautmansdorff was that man. Moreover, he had never belonged to the Spanish party in Vienna; he was indeed very much opposed to it and not beloved of the Empress. His arrival, therefore, was a proof not only of Ferdinand’s will to peace but of his abandonment of Spanish interests.

  Trautmansdorff found that there had already been an exchange of demands between the French and the imperial ambassadors, ending in a deadlock. Alsace was the cause. Ferdinand had declared that he would not yield Alsace to the French Crown in any circumstances, and there the matter rested. In his opening interview with d’Avaux and Servien Trautmansdorff offered instead Pinerolo, Moyenvic in Lorraine, Metz, Toul, and Verdun. This was clearly not enough, considering the exhausted state of Ferdinand, but before he allowed the French to see that he would yield more, Trautmansdorff travelled to Osnabrück and made a last effort to urge the Swedes to a separate peace.[93]

  His machinations were suspected by the French, who learnt shortly after that their agent at Osnabrück, a Monsieur de la Barde, had been refused admittance to the discussions, a fact which they regarded as disturbing.[94] They need not have worried: the only bribe which would make Sweden leave the war separately was Pomerania, and that the Emperor could not yield without the permission of Brandenburg; imploring the Elector to agree to its cession and rely on imperial generosity to give him some adequate recompense. Ferdinand wrote also to Trautmansdorff, secretly, telling him to yield Alsace to France if Sweden and Brandenburg alike proved intractable.[95]

  Maximilian’s delegate hastened the conclusion. In an interview with Trautmansdorff on March 24th 1646, he again threatened to make a separate peace with France unless the Emperor offered reasonable terms.[96] Maximilian’s calculations were as simple and selfish as ever: in Paris his ambassador was pleading that he was ‘old and broken and his children young’ and he wanted peace before he died, but what he wanted most of all was French protection against the Swedes and their protégé the Elector Palatine,[97] and he was prepared to do France good service to buy it. He showed throughout a su
pine indifference to the integrity of the Empire. This was the third time in the last two years that Maximilian had threatened to desert the Emperor, and Trautmansdorff took it seriously.[98] A fortnight later he offered Alsace to the French.[99] Still it was not enough; Servien and d’Avaux promptly asked for Breisach as well. It was on the other bank of the Rhine, but they had conquered it and intended to keep it. Trautmansdorff was indignant, but he was helpless; twice in the course of a month the Bavarian delegate again threatened to make a separate peace,[100] the Swedes had overrun the whole of north Germany, taken the Catholic bishopric of Paderborn and were rumoured to be advancing on Münster to intimidate the imperialist party;[101] at Osnabrück the Elector of Brandenburg’s deputy, Wittgenstein, continued the unending acrimonious argument about Pomerania.

  Trautmansdorff gave way, little by little. The Spanish ambassadors implored him to stand firm, but the combination of the French and Bavarian delegates was too strong. On May 11th the French accused him of obstructing negotiations; to meet this he first offered them Alsace in full sovereignty, and then the cession of Benfeld, Zabern, and Philippsburg.[102] They still demanded Breisach and, four days later, on the 16th, he yielded.[103]

  At the same time the Elector of Brandenburg was weakening. He had himself passed through Westphalia on his way to The Hague. Realizing that Swedish policy clashed too violently with his own, he had abandoned the project of marrying Christina, and was now anxious to link his fortunes to those of the House of Orange, through which he hoped to gain support for his claim in the Cleves-Jülich case. By June 1646, his attitude on the Pomeranian question weakened; by the middle of October he agreed to a compromise dividing Pomerania between himself and the Swedes so that they secured Stettin.[104] Early in November he suddenly attempted to seize Berg, as his rightful part in the Cleves-Jülich succession, and the imperialists, grasping at the clear indication he had now given of a desire to spread westwards towards the dominions of those with whom he was even now seeking a marriage alliance, offered him the bishoprics of Halberstadt and Minden and the reversion of Magdeburg in place of Pomerania. He agreed.[105] On December 7th 1646, he was contracted to Louise, eldest daughter of the Prince and Princess of Orange, and a week later, under persuasion, agreed to evacuate Berg, in the confident hope that with the support of the Prince of Orange he would gain more in the Cleves-Jülich case by influence than by force.[106]

  In these negotiations over Alsace and Pomerania the rulers had, in both cases, acted as if they were disposing of their personal goods and chattels rather than integral parts of the Empire and several thousands of their subjects. The Pomeranians had themselves sent a deputation to Münster; piteous and persistent, they were left, when all was settled, impotently wailing that they did not wish to be given to Sweden.[107]

  The Alsatians fared scarcely better. Here, indeed, there was a curious contradiction, for the Emperor wished to cut off the ceded territory wholly from the Empire, a suggestion which the King of France strenuously opposed.[108] The apparent callousness of Ferdinand and generosity of the French had an obvious cause. Should Alsace be divorced altogether from the Empire, it would betoken nothing save a change of boundary, but should France hold Alsace under the imperial crown, her King could send a representative to the Diet and meddle unceasingly in German affairs. In the end a compromise of such complexity was reached that one writer called it ‘une semence éternelle de guerres’.[109] The Emperor ceded his rights in Alsace to the King of France. The extent of those rights remained undefined, and the towns retained their privileges as imperial cities. But in return for the total disarmament of the right bank of the Rhine from Basel to Philippsburg the French agreed not to exact permission to sit in the Diet. Neither party was satisfied that the clauses were so worded that each could retain its pretensions to its own solution.[110]

  During all the negotiations the representatives of Strasbourg and the Decapolis, or ten free cities of Alsace, trotted between the French and the imperial embassies at Münster, patiently presenting their own views. They did not exert the least effect on those who, with reference solely to the King of France, the Emperor and the European situation, were deciding their fate.

  6.

  The winter of 1646 thus found the allies satisfied in their territorial demands. There remained the problems of the Empire, the quarrels of individual princes, and the question of the constitutional and religious rights for which the war had been fought.

  After endless bickering a decision was at last reached for the Palatine Electorate. Maximilian, who appealed for support to the Pope,[111] indignantly repudiated the suggestion that the Electorate should be held alternately.[112] Charles Lewis, the son of Frederick of Bohemia, was equally disgusted by the proposed creation of a new Electorate for him, an Electorate which should bring him back Heidelberg and the Rhenish Palatinate alone, and be the last in precedence in the college. This arrangement, however, suited Maximilian and the French admirably, and they contrived easily enough to talk over the Swedes, who were at first obstinate in defence of Charles Lewis’s rights.[113] Deserted by his only powerful allies, weakened by the collapse of his uncle’s power in England, the Elector Palatine at length gave in. He had the spirit to strike a medal showing himself in armour with the Palatine lion, wounded and exhausted, at his feet, bearing the inscription ‘Cedendo non cedo’.[114]

  The Landgravine of Hesse-Cassel, who had succeeded in making herself a valuable asset to both the French and the Swedes in the field, did better than the Elector, who had never been anything but a liability. She was given the greater part of the land she claimed, and more than half a million talers for the satisfaction of her army.[115]

  Still more fortunate were the Swiss, who had contrived to keep out of the war and now hastened to be included in the peace. They had been an independent and growing confederation for upwards of three hundred years, and now, besides the original cantons of Uri, Schwyz, and Unterwalden, included Luzern, Zürich, Basel, the Grisons, Solothurn, Sankt, Gall, Appenzell, and Fribourg; but the existence of the Swiss confederation had never received recognition. This they now demanded and were given.

  The question of payment for the Swedish army was more serious. Alexander Erskine, who was dispatched to the congress to defend its interests, declared truthfully enough, that the troops could not be evacuated unless there were means to pay them. He demanded for this purpose six million talers; the imperialists in answer offered three and in the end compromised on five.[116]

  The problem of imperial justice, of the rights of the Reichshofrat and the reversal of the judgement given against Donauwörth in 1608 were, by common consent, shelved until the next Diet; so also, inevitably, was the still unsettled business of the Cleves-Jülich succession. But the question which compelled the interested participation of all parties was that of religion. At first there was a deadlock, for the Catholic delegates at Münster flatly refused to indulge in discussions with the Protestant delegates at Osnabrück, while the mediator, the Papal nuncio, said he would not sit in the same room as a heretic.[117] When these preliminary obstacles had been overcome, each party took an uncompromising stand; the Catholics claimed all the land which the Church had held in 1627, the Protestants demanded a return to the position of 1618. John George performed his greatest service to peace when he induced them to compromise on the situation of 1624.[118]

  For the rest, the Edict of Restitution was shelved for ever, and the right of the prince to alter his religion and that of his subjects at will was confirmed. Provision was made for parity between Catholics and Protestants in certain irrevocably divided cities, chief of which were Augsburg and Regensburg.

  As a gesture of conciliation, Ferdinand III had, early in the discussions, agreed to recognize Calvinism as a third religion within the Empire,[119] but when all seemed amicably settled he startled the Protestants, profoundly irritated the Catholics, and jeopardized the still uncertain agreement by an unexpected display of his father’s passion. He refused absolutely to conc
ede toleration for the Protestants in the Hapsburg lands, and appealed to the Pope to support him.[120] He refused equally to allow 1624 as the year for the religious land settlement, standing doggedly to that year 1627 which his own diplomacy had won at the Peace of Prague.

  Trautmansdorff, who had shown himself diplomatic and good-humoured throughout, now unexpectedly supported his master and said, when he saw the proposed religious settlement, that even if the Emperor were a prisoner in Stockholm he would not advise him to sign it. On July 16th 1647, he had some further speech with Salvius on the subject and, being unable to gain satisfaction, left that night for Vienna. But he left, it was said, looking uncommonly pleased with himself, and indeed he had reason.

  7.

  All this while the ground had been shifting under the feet of the negotiators, and Ferdinand, despairing when he sent Trautmansdorff in the winter of 1645, was in high hope when he returned eighteen months later.

  Eighteen months had witnessed a continuous weakening of the imperial position, but in the summer of 1647 there occurred one of those deceptive turns of fortune which seemed once again to make postponement possible and victory conceivable for the Hapsburg dynasty.

  Early in 1646 the Swedish government had yielded at last to the pleas of Torstensson for recall on the score of ill-health[121]—he lay often for weeks in his bed, his hands knotted with gout, unable even to sign an order[122]—and appointed Karl Gustav Wrangel as his successor. Proud, truculent, unpopular,[123] Wrangel was nevertheless a skilful general—too skilful to suit the French. In the summer of 1646 he led a victorious advance against Bavaria. Mazarin, more apprehensive of Swedish conquests than desirous of fresh laurels for the joint armies, did his best to hold back Turenne, or at least to spare Bavaria.[124] But the joint armies of Sweden and France, whether Turenne would or no, could not stay for the niceties of diplomacy. Wrangel wanted a decisive invasion of Bavaria, the men wanted easy plunder.