1547. THE VICTORY OF THE IMPERIAL FORCES

 

The emperor, who was afraid that, by remaining at Ratisbon, he might render it impossible for the pope's forces to join him, having boldly advanced to Landshut on the Iser, the confederates lost some days in deliberating whether it was proper to follow him into the territories of the duke of Bavaria, a neutral prince.

When at last they surmounted that scruple, and began to move towards his camp, they suddenly abandoned the design, and hastened to attack Ratisbon, in which town Charles could leave only a small garrison. By this time the papal troops, amounting fully to that number which Paul had stipulated to furnish, had reached Landshut, and were soon followed by six thousand Spaniards of the veteran band stationed in Naples. The confederates, after Schertel’s spirited but fruitless expedition, seem to have permitted these forces to advance unmolested to the place of rendezvous, without any attempt to attack either them or the emperor separately, or to prevent their junction.

The Imperial army amounted now to thirty-six thousand men, and was still more formidable by the discipline and valor of the troops, than by their number. Avila, a commendator of Alcantara, who had been present in all the wars carried on by Charles, and had served in the armies which gained the memorable victory at Pavia, which conquered Tunis, and invaded France, gives this the preference to any military force he had ever seen assembled. Octavio Farnese, the pope’s grandson, assisted by the ablest officers formed in the long wars between Charles and Francis, commanded the Italian auxiliaries. His brother, the cardinal Farnese, accompanied him as a papal legate; and in order to give the war the appearance of a religious enterprise, he proposed to march at the head of the army, with a cross carried before him, and to publish indulgences wherever he came, to all who should give them any assistance, as had anciently been the practice in the crusades against the infidels. But this the emperor strictly prohibited, as inconsistent with all the declarations which he had made to the Germans of his own party; and the legate perceiving, to his astonishment, that the exercise of the protestant religion, the extirpation of which be considered as the sole object of the war, was publicly permitted in the Imperial camp, soon returned in disgust to Italy.

The arrival of these troops enabled the emperor to send such a reinforcement to the garrison at Ratisbon, that the confederates, relinquishing all hopes of reducing that town, marched towards Ingoldstadt on the Danube, near to which Charles was now encamped. They exclaimed loudly against the emperor's notorious violation of the laws and constitution of the empire, in having called in foreigners to lay waste Germany, and to oppress its liberties. As, in that age, the dominion of the Roman see was so odious to the protestants, that the name of the pope alone was sufficient to inspire them with horror at any enterprise which he countenanced, and to raise in their minds the blackest suspicions, it came to be universally believed among them, that Paul, not satisfied with attacking them openly by force of arms, had dispersed his emissaries all over Germany, to set on fire their towns and magazines, and to poison the wells and fountains of water. Nor did this rumor, which was extravagant and frightful enough to make a deep impression on the credulity of the vulgar, spread among them only; even the leaders of the party, blinded by their prejudices, published a declaration, in which they accused the pope of having employed such antichristian and diabolical arts against them. These sentiments of the confederates were confirmed, in some measure, by the behavior of the papal troops, who, thinking nothing too rigorous towards heretics anathematized by the church, were guilty of great excesses in the territories of the Lutheran states, and aggravated the calamities of war, by mingling with it all the cruelty of bigoted zeal.

The first operations in the field, however, did not correspond with the violence of those passions which animated individuals. The emperor had prudently taken the resolution of avoiding an action with an army so far superior in number, especially as he foresaw that nothing could keep a body composed of so many and such dissimilar members from falling to pieces, but the pressing to attack it with an inconsiderate precipitancy. The confederates, though it was no less evident that to them every moment's delay was pernicious, were still prevented by the weakness or division of their leaders from exerting that vigour, with which their situation, as well as the ardor of their soldiers, ought to have inspired them. On their arrival at Ingoldstadt [Aug. 29], they found the emperor in a camp not remarkable for strength, and surrounded only by a slight entrenchment. Before the camp lay a plain of such extent, as afforded sufficient space for drawing out the whole army, and bringing it to act at once. Every consideration should have determined them to have seized this opportunity of attacking the emperor; and their great superiority in numbers, the eagerness of their troops, together with the stability of the German infantry in pitched battles, afforded them the most probable expectation of victory. The land have urged this with great warmth, declaring that if the sole command were vested in him, he would terminate the war on that occasion, and decide by one general action the fate of the two parties. But the elector, reflecting on the valor and discipline of the enemy’s forces, animated by the presence of the emperor, and conducted by the best officers of the age, would not venture upon an action, which he thought to be so doubtful, as the attacking such a body of veterans on ground which they themselves had chosen, and while covered by fortifications which, though imperfect, would afford them no small advantage in the combat.

Notwithstanding his hesitation and remonstrances, it was agreed to advance towards the enemy’s camp in battle array, in order to make a trial whether by that insult, and by a furious cannonade which they began, they could draw the Imperialists out of their works. But the emperor had too much sagacity to fall into this snare. He adhered to his own system with inflexible constancy; and drawing up his soldiers behind their trenches, that they might be ready to receive the confederates if they should venture upon an assault, calmly waited their approach, and carefully restrained his own men from any excursions or skirmishes which might bring on a general engagement.

Meanwhile he rode along the lines, and addressing the troops of the different nations in their own language, encouraged them not only by his words, but by the cheerfulness of his voice and countenance; he exposed himself in places of the greatest danger, and amidst the warmest fire of the enemy's artillery, the most numerous that had hitherto been brought into the field by any army. Roused by his example, not a man quitted his ranks; it was thought infamous to discover any symptom of fear when the emperor appeared so intrepid; and the meanest soldier plainly perceived, that their declining the combat at present was not the effect of timidity in their general, but the result of a well-grounded caution.

The confederates, after firing several hours on the Imperialists, with more noise and terror than execution, seeing no prospect of alluring them to fight on equal terms, retired to their own camp. The emperor employed the night with such diligence in strengthening his works, that the confederates, returning to the cannonade next day, found that, though they had now been willing to venture upon such a bold experiment, the opportunity of making an attack with advantage was lost.

After such a discovery of the feebleness or irresolution of their leaders, and the prudence as well as firmness of the emperor’s conduct, the confederates turned their whole attention towards preventing the arrival of a powerful reinforcement of ten thousand foot, and four thousand horse, which the count de Buren was bringing to the emperor from the Low-Countries. But though that general had to traverse such an extent of country; though his route lay through the territories of several states warmly disposed to favor the confederates; though they were apprised of his approach, and by their superiority in numbers might easily have detached a force sufficient to overpower him, he advanced with such rapidity, and by such well concerted movements, while they opposed him with such remissness, and so little military skill, that he conducted this body to the Imperial camp without any loss. [Sept. 10.]

Upon the arrival of the Flemings, in whom he placed great confidence, the emperor altered, in some degree, his plan of operations, and began to act more upon the offensive, though he still avoided a battle with the utmost industry. He made himself master of Neuburg, Dillingen, and Donawert on the Danube; of Nordlingen, and several other towns, situated on the most considerable streams which fall into that mighty river. By this he got the command of a great extent of country, though not without being obliged to engage in several sharp encounters, of which the success was various, nor without being exposed oftener than once, to the danger of being drawn into a battle. In this manner the whole autumn was spent neither party gained any remarkable superiority over the other, and nothing was yet done towards bringing the war to a period.

The emperor had often foretold, with confidence, that discord and the want of money would compel the confederates to disperse that unwieldy body, which they had neither abilities to guide, nor funds to support. Though he waited with impatience for the accomplishment of his prediction, there was no prospect of that event being at hand. But he himself began to suffer from the want of forage and provisions; even the catholic provinces being so much incensed at the introduction of foreigners into the empire, that they furnished them with reluctance, while the camp of the confederates abounded with a profusion of all necessaries, which the zeal of their friends in the adjacent countries poured in with the utmost liberality and good-will. Great numbers of the Italians and Spaniards, unaccustomed to the food or climate of Germany, were become unfit for service through sickness. Considerable arrears were now due to the troops, who had scarcely received any money since the beginning of the campaign; the emperor, experiencing on this, as well as on former occasions, that his jurisdiction was more extensive than his revenues, and that the former enabled him to assemble a greater number of soldiers, than the latter were sufficient to support. Upon all these accounts, he found it difficult to keep his army in the field; some of his ablest generals, and even the duke of Alva himself, persevering and obstinate as he usually was in the prosecution of every measure, advising him to disperse his troops into winter quarters.

But as the arguments against any plan which he had adopted, rarely made much impression upon the emperor, he paid no regard to their opinion, and determined to continue his efforts in order to weary out the confederates; being well assured that if he could once oblige them to separate, there was little probability of their uniting again in a body. Still, however, it remained a doubtful point, whether his steadiness was most likely to fail, or their zeal to be exhausted. It was still uncertain which party, by first dividing its forces, would give the superiority to the other; when an unexpected event decided the contest, and occasioned a fatal reverse in the affairs of the confederates.

Maurice of Saxony having insinuated himself into the emperor's confidence, by the arts which have already been described, no sooner saw hostilities ready to break out between the confederates of Smalkalde and that monarch, than vast prospects of ambition began to open upon him. That portion of Saxony, which descended to him by his ancestors, was far from satisfying his aspiring mind; and he perceived with pleasure the approach of civil war, as, amidst the revolutions and convulsions occasioned by it, opportunities of acquiring additional power or dignity, which at other times are sought in vain, present themselves to an enterprising spirit.

As he was thoroughly acquainted with the state of the two contending parties, and the qualities of their leaders, he did not hesitate long in determining on which side the greatest advantages were to be expected. Having revolved all these things in his own breast, and having taken his final resolution of joining the emperor, he prudently determined to declare early in his favor; that by the merit of this, he might acquire a title to a proportional recompense. With this view, he had repaired to Ratisbon in the month of May, under pretext of attending the diet; and after many conferences with Charles or his ministers, he, with the most mysterious secrecy, concluded a treaty, in which he engaged to concur in assisting the emperor, as a faithful subject; and Charles, in return, stipulated to bestow on him all the spoils of the elector of Saxony, his dignities as well as territories.

History hardly records any treaty that can be considered as a more manifest violation of the most powerful principles which ought to influence human actions. Maurice, a professed protestant, at a time when the belief of religion, as well as zeal for its interests, took strong possession of every mind, binds himself to contribute his assistance towards carrying on a war which had manifestly no other object than the extirpation of the protestant doctrines. He engages to take arms against his father-in-law, and to strip his nearest relation of his honors and dominions. He joins a dubious friend against a known benefactor, to whom his obligations were both great and recent. Nor was the prince who ventured upon all this, one of those audacious politicians, who, provided they can accomplish their ends, and secure their interest, avowedly disregard the most sacred obligations, and glory in contemning whatever is honorable or decent. Maurice’s conduct, if the whole must be ascribed to policy, was more artful and masterly; be executed his plan in all its parts, and yet endeavored to preserve, in every step which he took, the appearance of what was fair, and virtuous, and laudable. It is probable, from his subsequent behavior, that, with regard to the protestant religion at least, his intentions were upright, that he fondly trusted to the emperor’s promises for its security, but that, according to the fate of all who refine too much in policy, and who tread in dark and crooked paths in attempting to deceive others, he himself was, in some degree, deceived.

His first care, however, was to keep the engagements into which he had entered with the emperor closely concealed: and so perfect a master was he in the art of dissimulation, that the confederates, notwithstanding his declining all connections with them, and his remarkable assiduity in paying court to the emperor, seemed to have entertained no suspicion of his designs. Even the elector of Saxony, when he marched at the beginning of the campaign to join his associates, committed his dominions to Maurice’s protection, which he, with an insidious appearance of friendship, readily undertook. But scarcely had the elector taken the field, when Maurice began to consult privately with the king of the Romans how to invade those very territories, with the defence of which he was entrusted. Soon after, the emperor sent him a copy of the Imperial ban denounced against the elector and landgrave. As he was next heir to the former, and particularly interested in preventing strangers from getting his dominions into their possession, Charles required him, not only for his own sake, but upon the allegiance and duty which he owed to the head of the empire, instantly to seize and detain in his hands the forfeited estates of the elector; warning him, at the same time, that if he neglected to obey these commands, he should be held as accessary to the crimes of his kins­man, and be liable to the same punishment.

This artifice, which it is probable Maurice himself suggested, was employed by him in order that his conduct towards the elector might seem a matter of necessity but riot of choice, an act of obedience to his superior, rather than a voluntary invasion of the rights of his kinsman and ally. But in order to give some more specious appearance to this thin veil with which he endeavored to cover his ambition, he, soon after his return from Ratisbon, had called together the states of his country; and representing to them that a civil war between the emperor and confederates of Smalkalde was now become unavoidable, desired their advice with regard to the part which he should act in that event. They having been prepared, no doubt, and tutored beforehand, and being desirous of gratifying their prince, whom they esteemed as well as loved, gave such counsel as they knew would be most agreeable; advising him to offer his mediation towards reconciling the contending parties; but if that were rejected, and he could obtain proper security for the protestant religion, they delivered it as their opinion, that, in all other points, he ought to yield obedience to the emperor. Upon receiving the Imperial rescript, together with the ban against the elector and landgrave, Maurice summoned the states of his country a second time; he laid before them the orders which he had received, and mentioned the punishment with which he was threatened in case of disobedience; he acquainted them, that the confederates had refused to admit of his mediation, and that the emperor had given him the most satisfactory declarations with regard to religion; he pointed out his own interest in securing possession of the electoral dominions, as well as the danger of allowing strangers to obtain an establishment in Saxony; and upon the whole, as the point under deliberation respected his subjects no less than himself, he desired to know their sentiments, how he should steer in that difficult and arduous conjuncture.

The states, no less obsequious and complaisant than formerly, professing their own reliance on the emperor's promises as a perfect security for their religion, proposed that, before he had recourse to more violent methods, they would write to the elector, exhorting him, as the best means, not only of appeasing the emperor, but of preventing his dominions from being seized by foreign or hostile powers, to give his consent that Maurice should take possession of them quietly and without opposition. Maurice himself seconded their arguments in a letter to the landgrave, his father-in-law. Such an extravagant proposition was rejected with the scorn and indignation which it deserved. The landgrave, in return to Maurice, taxed him with his treachery and ingratitude towards a kinsman to whom he was so deeply indebted; he treated with contempt his affectation of executing the Imperial ban, which he could not but know to be altogether void by the unconstitutional and arbitrary manner in which it had been issued; he besought him, not to suffer himself to he so far blinded by ambition, as to forget the obligations of honor and friendship, or to betray the protestant religion, the extirpation of which out of Germany, even by the acknowledgment of the pope himself, was the great object of the present war.

But Maurice had proceeded too far to be diverted from pursuing his plan by reproaches or arguments. Nothing now remained but to execute with vigor, what he hitherto carried on by artifice and dissimulation. Nor was his boldness in action inferior to his subtlety in contrivance. Having assembled about twelve thousand men, he suddenly invaded one part of the electoral provinces, while Ferdinand, with an army composed of Bohemians and Hungarians, overran the other. Maurice, in two sharp encounters, defeated the troops which the elector had left to guard his country; and improving these advantages to the utmost, made himself master of all the electorate, except Wittenberg, Gotha, and Eisenach, which being places of considerable strength, and defended by sufficient garrisons, refused to open their gates. The news of these rapid conquests soon reached the Imperial and confederate camps. In the former, satisfaction with an event, which it was foreseen would be productive of the most important consequences, was expressed by every possible demonstration of joy. The latter was filled with astonishment and terror. The name of Maurice was mentioned with execration, as an apostate from religion, a betrayer of the German liberty, and a contemner of the most sacred and natural ties. Everything that the rage or invention of the party could suggest, in order to blacken and render him odious, invectives, satires, and lampoons, the furious declamations of their preachers, together with the rude wit of their authors, were all employed against him. While he, confiding in the arts which he had so long practised, as if his actions could have admitted of any serious justification, published a manifesto, containing the same frivolous reasons for his conduct, which he had formerly alleged in the meeting of his states, and in his letter to the land­grave.

The elector, upon the first intelligence of Maurice's motions, proposed to return home with his troops for the defence of Saxony. But the deputies of the league, assembled at Ulm, prevailed on him, at that time, to remain with the army, and to prefer the success of the common cause before the security of his own dominions. At length the sufferings and complaints of his subjects increased so much, that he discovered the utmost impatience to set out, in order to rescue them from the oppression of Maurice, and from the cruelty of the Hungarians, who, having been accustomed to that licentious and merciless species of war which was thought lawful against the Turks, committed, wherever they came, the wildest acts of rapine and violence. This desire of the elector was so natural and so warmly urged, that the deputies at Ulm, though fully sensible of the unhappy consequences of dividing their army, durst not refuse their consent, how unwilling soever to grant it. In this perplexity, they repaired to the camp of the confederates at Giengen, on the Brenz, in order to consult their constituents. Nor were they less at a loss what to determine in this pressing emergence. But, after having considered seriously the open desertion of some of their allies; the scandalous lukewarmness of others, who had hitherto contributed nothing towards the war; the intolerable load which had fallen of consequence upon such members as were most zealous for the cause, or most faithful to their engagements; the ill success of all their endeavors to obtain foreign aid; the unusual length of the campaign; the rigor of the season; together with the great number of soldiers, and even officers, who had quitted the service on that account; they concluded that nothing could save them, but either the bringing the contest to the immediate decision of a battle, by attacking the Imperial army, or an accommodation of all their differences with Charles by a treaty. Such was the despondency and dejection which now oppressed the party, that of these two they chose what was most feeble and unmanly, empowering a minister of the elector of Brandenburg to propound overtures of peace in their name to the emperor.

No sooner did Charles perceive this haughty confederacy which had so lately threatened to drive him out of Germany, condescending to make the first advances towards an agreement, than concluding their spirit to be gone, or their union to be broken, he immediately assumed the tone of a conqueror; and, as if they had been already at his mercy, would not hear of a negotiation, but upon condition that the elector of Saxony should previously give up himself and his dominions absolutely to his disposal. As nothing more intolerable or ignominious could have been prescribed, even in the worst situation of their affairs, it is no wonder that this proposition should be rejected by a party, which was rather humbled and his concerted than subdued. But though they refused to submit tamely to the emperor's will, they wanted spirit to pursue the only plan which could have preserved their independence; and forgetting that it was the union of their troops in one body which had hitherto rendered the confederacy formidable, and had more than once obliged the Imperialists to think of quitting the field, they inconsiderately abandoned their advantage, which, in spite of the diversion in Saxony, would still have kept the emperor in awe; and yielding to the elector’s entreaties, consented to his proposal of dividing the army. Nine thousand men were left in the duchy of Württemberg, in order to protect that province, as well as the free cities of Upper Germany; a considerable body marched with the elector towards Saxony; but the greater part returned with their respective leaders into their own countries, and were dispersed there.

The moment that the troops separated, the confederacy ceased to be the object of terror; and the members of it, who, while they composed part of a great body, had felt but little anxiety about their own security, began to tremble when they reflected that they now stood exposed singly to the whole weight of the emperor's vengeance. Charles did not allow them leisure to recover from their consternation, or to form any new schemes of union. As soon as the confederates began to retire, he put his army in motion, and though it was now in the depth of winter, he resolved to keep the field, in order to make the most of that favorable juncture for which he had waited so long. Some small towns in which the protestants had left garrisons, immediately opened their gates. Norlingen, Rotenberg, and Hall, Imperial cities, submitted soon after. Though Charles could not prevent the elector from levying, as he retreated, large contributions upon the archbishop of Mentz, the abbot of Fulda, and other ecclesiastics, this was more than balanced by the submission of Ulm, one of the chief cities of Swabia, highly distinguished by its zeal for the Smalkaldic league. As soon as an example was set of deserting the com­mon cause, the rest of the members became instantly impatient to follow it, and seemed afraid lest others, by getting the start of them in returning to their duty, should, on that account, obtain more favorable terms.

The elector Palatine, a weak prince, who, notwithstanding his professions of neutrality, had, very preposterously, sent to the confederates four hundred horse, a body so inconsiderable as to be scarcely any addition to their strength, but great enough to render him guilty in the eyes of the emperor, made his acknowledgments in the most abject manner. The inhabitants of Augsburg, shaken by so many instances of apostasy, expelled the brave Schertel out of their city, and accepted such conditions as the em­peror was pleased to grant them.

The duke of Württemberg, though among the first who had offered to submit, was obliged to sue for pardon on his knees; and even after this mortifying humiliation, obtained it with difficulty1 Memmingen, and other free cities in Swabia, being now abandoned by all their former associates, found it necessary to provide for their own safety, by throwing themselves on the emperor's mercy. Strasburg and Frankfort on the Maine, cities far remote from the seat of danger, discovered no greater steadiness than those which lay more exposed. Thus a confederacy, lately so powerful as to shake the Imperial throne, fell to pieces, and was dissolved in the space of a few weeks; hardly any member of that formidable combination now remaining in arms, but the elector and landgrave, whom the emperor, having from the beginning marked out as the victims of his vengeance, was at no pains to offer terms of reconciliation. Nor did he grant those who submitted to him a generous and unconditional pardon. Conscious of his own superiority, he treated them both with haughtiness and rigor. All the princes in person, and the cities by their deputies, were compelled to implore mercy in the humble posture of supplicants. As the emperor labored under great difficulties from the want of money, he imposed heavy fines upon them, which he levied with most rapacious exactness. The duke of Wurternberg paid three hundred thousand crowns; the city of Augsburg a hundred and fifty thousand; Ulm a hundred thousand; Frankfort eighty thousand; Memmingen fifty thousand; and the rest in proportion to their abilities, or their different degrees of guilt. They were obliged, besides, to renounce the league of Smalkalde; to furnish assistance, if required, towards executing the Imperial ban against the elector and landgrave; to give up their artillery and war­like stores to the emperor; to admit garrisons into their principal cities and places of strength; and, in this disarmed and dependent situation, to expect the final award which the emperor should think proper to pronounce when the war came to an issue. But amidst the great variety of articles dictated by Charles on this occasion, he in conformity to his original plan, took care that nothing relating to religion should be inserted; and to such a degree were the confederates humbled or overawed, that forgetting the zeal which had so long animated them, they were solicitous only about their own safety, without venturing to insist on a point, the mention of which they saw the emperor avoiding with so much industry. The inhabitants of Memmingen alone made some feeble efforts to procure a promise of protection in the exercise of their religion, but were checked so severely by the Imperial ministers, that they instantly fell from their demand.

The elector of Cologne, whom, notwithstanding the sentence of excommunication issued against him by the pope, Charles had hitherto allowed to remain in possession of the archiepiscopal see, being now required by the emperor to submit to the censures of the church, this virtuous and disinterested prelate, unwilling to expose his subjects to the miseries of war on his own account, voluntarily resigned that high dignity [Jan. 25]. With a moderation becoming his age and character, he chose to enjoy truth, together with the exercise of his religion, in the retirement of a private life, rather than to disturb society by engaging in a doubtful and violent struggle in order to retain his office.

During these transactions, the elector of Saxony reached the frontiers of his country unmolested. As Maurice could assemble no force equal to the army which accompanied him, he in a short time, not only recovered possession of his own territories, but overran Misnia, and stripped his rival of all that belonged to him, except Dresden and Leipzig, which, being towns of some strength, could not be suddenly reduced. Maurice, obliged to quit the field, and to shut himself up in his capital, despatched courier after courier to the emperor, representing his dangerous situation, and soliciting him with the most earnest importunity to march immediately to his relict. But Charles, busy at that time in prescribing terms to such members of the league as were daily returning to their allegiance, thought it sufficient to detach Albert marquis of Brandenburg-Anspach with three thousand men to his assistance. Albert, though an enterprising and active officer, was unexpectedly surprised by the elector, who killed many of his troops, dispersed the remainder, and took him prisoner. Maurice continued as much exposed as formerly; and if his enemy had known how to improve the opportunity which presented itself, his ruin must have been immediate and unavoidable. But the elector, no less slow and dilatory when invested with the sole command, than he had been formerly when joined in authority with a partner, never gave any proof of military activity but in this enterprise against Albert. Instead of marching directly towards Maurice, whom the defeat of his ally had greatly alarmed, he inconsiderately listened to overtures of accommodation, which his artful antagonist proposed with no other intention than to amuse him, and to slacken the vigor of his operations.

 

THE STRANGE STORY OF THE INSURRECTION OF FIESCO