to be inevitable. The legend since Wallenstein's dismissalthe Imperial armies dispersed, the enemy on the Danube ! Space forbids a relation of these events, already surveyed in the study of Gustavus Adolphus. Suffice to recall that with the opening of the campaign of 1632 the Swedish army crossed the Danube to overrun Bavaria, while the Saxons invaded Bohemia, the gateway to Vienna. of his treasonable designs, sedulously fostered by his enemies and by an Imperial court anxious to justify its base ingratitude, has gained acceptance in history. Yet it is difficult to reconcile either with his letters or the far-sighted and gratuitous advice he tendered the Emperor, from his retirement, on the conduct of the war. This advice embodied a plan that marks Wallenstein a master of grand strategy. It was to win over as an ally the King of Denmark, and then employ his fleet to gain command of the Baltic, striking at Gustavus' communications with Sweden, his Achilles' heel. Here was the alleged traitor making his sovereign a freewill offering of a plan that would have paralysed the Swedish advance! The Emperor, delighted, asks Wallenstein to initiate negotiations, the way for which had been paved by the moderation of the earlier terms of peace. We know that Christian of Denmark fell in with the proposal, and that the treaty was on the verge of being signed. Why it was never completed is a mystery, though the obvious explanation lies in the Imperial reverses in the theatre of war. "Of all sciences diplomacy is surely the weakest and most inefficient; it is, in fact, nothing more than the slave of military success, depending entirely on the force, ready in the background, to give weight to protocols." What a change had occurred While Gustavus had been conquering province after province, the one man capable of opposing him had been building towns and schools, and planting the domestic arts in the wilds of Bohemia. Another dramatic change of scene, and Wallenstein is once more the "creator of vast armies." The Imperial Minister, Questenberg, writes as a suppliant to beg his aid: We now see our error plainly enough; and as the miracles we anticipated have not come to pass, we would gladly retrace our steps, if we only knew how." The requests multiply, but Wallenstein holds firm, alleging severe gout as his excuse, until at last the Emperor writes in his own hand, entreating the man he had dismissed "not to forsake him in the hour of adversity." Wallenstein gives way, though a hitch occurs when he hears that it is proposed he should share the command with an Emperor's son. Scornfully he declares, "Never will I accept a divided command-no, not even were God Himself to be my colleague in office. I must So dire was the need that command alone, or not at all." The point at once yielded, he agrees to take command, or rather to raise an army, for there was none to command. But he stipulates that his tenure shall be only for three months, when he will retire and leave the Emperor to dispose of the command as he wishes. The magic of his name sufficed. Soldiers of fortune flocked from every corner of Europe, and within the time an army of 40,000 men was assembled, raised largely at his own expense and fully equipped. But the Imperial court knew well that Wallenstein's name was the sole tie, and sent envoys to beg him to continue in command. Though his illness was genuine, it is difficult to resist the conclusion that this three months' condition was but a move in the game, a lever whereby to gain his full terms. He asked twenty-four hours for consideration, then delivered them in writing. He was to be commander-in-chief, with absolute power, of all the forces; all rights of appointment, reward, pardon, and confiscation were to be vested in him. The Emperor and his son were not even to appear with the army, still less to exercise any authority. As a certain reward he was to be given one of the hereditary provinces of the House of Austria, and as extraordinary reward one of the conquered provinces. VOL. CCXVIII.—NO. MCCCXVII. the Emperor swallowed his pride, and agreed, without demur, to these humiliating terms, which meant that Wallenstein became the power above the throne-so, as it proved, signing his own death warrant. Nevertheless, to ascribe these conditions solely to overweening pride would seem unjust. Rather would Wallenstein, the first grand strategist, appear to have grasped the principle of unity of command-by none more infringed than Austria throughout its chequered history,-appreciating that counter Gustavus, the absolute chief of a military monarchy, equal power and freedom of action was essential. to Maximilian begged for aid against the principal enemy, the Swedes in Bavaria, but Wallenstein turned north instead against the Saxons, throwing them out of Bohemia, while simultaneously negotiating to detach the Elector from alliance with Sweden. If by so doing he infringed the canons of present-day military pundits, his was a more far-sighted strategy, for apart from the risk of putting his new levies against troops flushed with victory, his double threat to Gustavus' communications and to his chief ally seized the initiative from the Swedish king, and compelled the prompt evacuation of Bavaria more simply and economically than a direct move. Before continuing his intended advance into Saxony, B Wallenstein directed Maxi- his rival, Wallenstein's lack of milian to quit Bavaria and join him, with his army, at Eger. How bitter must this enforced subordination have been to the Elector, prime instigator of Wallenstein's dismissal. At their meeting a formal reconciliation took place, though it is remarked that "the Elector was more perfect in the art of dissimulation than the Duke of Friedland." Leaving Bavaria hurriedly, Gustavus attempted to prevent this junction, but, failing, and faced with a combined army of 60,000 men, fell back on Nuremberg. Thither Wallenstein followed, and finding the Swedes entrenched, remarked that battles enough had been fought already, and it was time to try another method." With this aim he occupied and fortified a position near the city by which he could command Gustavus' lines of supply with his Croat light horse, ideal troops for the purpose. This object of starving his rival out he maintained unswervingly, deaf to all challenges of battle from Gustavus, until at last the Swedish king, shadowed by the gaunt spectre of famine, organised a grand assault on Wallenstein's position. The throw failed, after desperate efforts on both sides, and two weeks later Gustavus, yielding to famine and superior will-power, broke up his camp and marched away unhindered. As a soldier, judged by modern standards, or even by vigour is hardly to his credit, but as a man and a grand strategist playing for higher stakes than local military success, his firmness and will in following the course planned out is wholly admirable. The great Czech is the supreme poker player of military history. He appreciated full well that the Swedes had acquired such a moral ascendancy that to meet them in open battle was to court defeat, and further that Gustavus' hold over the German States depended on his reputation for invincibility. This the check at Nuremberg perceptibly shook in the eyes of Europe; as Wallenstein phrased it, "The King has blunted his horns." It may be remarked that Wallenstein's profound grasp of psychology, perhaps his supreme faculty, was equally the secret of his influence with his troops. Instead of following Gustavus, who had again moved south on the Danube, Wallenstein turned north and struck once more against Saxony-a master move that again brought Gustavus to heel, and, automatically, prompt relief to Bavaria. For this mistake, the Swedish king atoned by a return march so rapid that he caught up Wallenstein near Leipsig, before the Imperial general had been able to bring the Saxon army to battle or intimidate the Elector into a separate peace. Hearing of the Swedish approach, Wallenstein moved back from Leipsig to meet them, but find- the record of its incidents. ing Gustavus strongly posted at Naumburg, abstained from any attempt to attack. en As the Swedes were trenched, Wallenstein concluded no farther advance was imminent, and allowed Pappenheim to march to attack the Moritzburg near Halle, himself standing at Lützen, where he could cover alike this expedition and the approach to Leipsig. But Gustavus, hearing of this dispersion of the enemy, moved unexpectedly to attack Wallenstein. . Caught unprepared and with but 12,000 men at hand, the latter rose to the emergency, sent Isolani's Croats to delay the oncoming Swedes, ordered his various corps to concentrate with all speed, and to Pappenheim despatched this message: "The enemy is marching hither. Break up instantly with every man and gun, so as to arrive early in the morning." Isolani's resistance, even though routed after a time, and the early fall of darkness, saved the Imperial army from attack that day, and by the morrow Wallenstein was drawn up in battle order, with his right on Lützen, parallel to and behind the Leipsig road. Next morning a thick November fog delayed the opening of battle until nearly noon, while Pappenheim was drawing ever nearer. It proved a typical parallel battle unmarked by striking manœuvres, fought in a shroud of mist that confused its movements and obscured The initial Swedish attack succeeded on the right, but farther to the left was driven back across the road, and Gustavus, hurrying to rally and lead forward his troops in the centre, met his death. When the news filtered through, it fired the Swedes to avenge his fall by a supreme fury of assault before which, despite all Wallenstein's efforts, the Imperialists recoiled. At this critical moment Pappenheim's squadrons restored the balance, and Wallenstein seized the chance to rally and counter-attack with his infantry centre, hurling the Swedes back and regaining the lost ground and guns. Wallenstein himself bore a charmed life, all his attendants struck down, his spur torn off by a cannon shot, and several musket balls lodging in his coat; but Pappenheim fell, dismay spread throughout his troops, and without cavalry to confirm their momentary success, the exhausted infantry, disorganised by their charge, were pushed back in one last final throw by the Swedish second line, still almost intact. The Swedes remained to mourn their king, while under cover of darkness Wallenstein, with his shattered forces, withdrew towards Leipsig, with the loss of his baggage and artillery. So reduced and disorganised was his army that, abandoning Leipsig, he was forced to fall back into Bohemia to recuperate in winter quarters. Though a military reverse for the Imperialists, the death of Gustavus was a political opportunity to work for peace. triumph, dislocating all the Protestant plans. In all Catholic countries the Te Deum was sung for the delivery. During the winter of 16321633, both sides reformed their forces for a fresh trial, and in Bohemia we find Wallenstein making what appears to be almost the sole tactical reforms of his career depriving the heavy cavalry of their carbines, and at the same time insisting that they should all be provided with cuirasses "because it was found in the late action that the mail-clad horsemen did their duty, while the others ran away." In this his views, contrary to those of Gustavus, coincide with Saxe's later, embodying the principle which underlies the modern tankthat of combining mobility, protection, and hitting power in each individual fighting entity. With his army raised again to 40,000, more splendidly equipped than ever, Wallenstein took the field in the spring of 1633, and with his great rival removed, success would seem predestined; the crushing of their opponent was indeed eagerly anticipated at the Imperial court. Instead, we are to see yet another transformation of this extraordinary man. Forsaking the easy and profitable pursuit of military conquest, Wallenstein enters on his last and grandest rôlethat of fathering German unity. The disappearance of Gustavus treated by him as an was Negotiations with the Saxons were his first step, but beyond this his intentions remain one of the enigmas of history. The series of negotiations and intrigues that follow, interspersed with military operations, are far too intricate to trace here. Suffice to say that the general tenor of reports and rumours was that Wallenstein had offered to join with the Saxons in forcing peace on the Emperor, the Jesuits were to be driven from the Empire, the Protestants to be given religious freedom and their property restored. Whether this common action was to include the Swedes or to expel them also remains in doubt. Arnheim, the Saxon general, we know went to Oxenstierna, the Swedish chancellor, with alleged proposals from Wallenstein, but whether Arnheim had any authority from Wallenstein is doubtful. In Richelieu's words, "the court of Rome had lost in him the most perfect Jesuit that ever lived." From Arnheim's own letters to the Duke of Brandenburg, Wallenstein was urging as a preliminary to peace that the Swedes must be driven out. We know, again, that Richelieu was offering the highest bribes, the Bohemian crown and a million livres a year, if Wallenstein would join with France against the Emperor, yet without result. These rumours, however, penetrated to Vienna, where his enemies assiduously propagated them, and Wallenstein's spirit |