Pictures of German Life in the XVth XVIth and XVIIth Centuries.

Vol. II.

by Gustav Freytag.

INTRODUCTION TO THE SECOND VOLUME.

The year 1600 dawned upon a people who had gone through a vast change in the last century. Everywhere we perceive marks of progress. Let us compare any learned book of the year 1499 with one of 1599. The former is written in bad Latin, poor in diction, ponderous in composition, and not easy of comprehension. Of independent spirit and individual conviction we find little trace. There are undoubtedly exceptions, but they are very rare. Even the Latin of the earlier Humanitarians reminds us of the subtle vapidness of monkish language, almost as much as of the artistic phrases of ancient rhetoricians. We are sometimes surprised to find in the theology, an undercurrent of deep-thinking speculations of elevated grandeur; but it is a kind of secret doctrine of souls depressed under the constraint of the cloister. It is certainly philosophy, but deprived of vitality.

A century later we discover, even in mediocre authors, a certain independent individuality. The writers begin to reflect on human life and faith; they understand how to represent their own feelings and the emotions of the soul, and struggles for their own convictions. Yet still they remain too much bound by general prescription, and there is still much that is monotonous, according to our views, in their judgment and learning, and the cultivation of their minds. But in their prose we find a peculiar and often original style, and almost always a stronger and more active common sense. Three generations struggled for their faith, many individuals perished for their convictions, and thousands were plunged in misery. Martyrdom was no longer a monstrous and unheard-of thing, and men maintained their own judgment on the highest questions. There were few souls strong enough to do this a century earlier; then, among the people, individuals pa.s.sed their lives without any community of ideas or activity of mind, seeking in the narrow circle of their a.s.sociates no advantage save that of support against insufferable oppression; that alone was the purport of their struggles. But now enthusiasm had been called forth in the nation, the individual felt himself in close connection with millions, he was carried along the stream by the unanimous impulse of all who were like-minded; he acted and suffered for an idea; this was especially the case with the Protestants; and even Roman Catholics partook of this blessing: so much n.o.bler had men become.

But every higher development produces new defects; the child is free from many complaints which attack the youth. Protestantism, which had done so much for the people, did not for a long time achieve its greatest results. It required the unceasing inward workings of the minds of individuals; it gave an impulse everywhere to self-decision, and yet it could not raise itself above the worst principles of the old Church. It wished still to dominate over the faith of its disciples and to persecute as heresy every deviation from its convictions. Luther's giant nature had been able to keep zealous spirits united, but he himself had predicted that after his death they would not remain so. He knew his faithful adherents accurately; their weaknesses, and their eagerness to carry out their own views. Melancthon, who though firm in his theology and in the every-day troubles of life, was embarra.s.sed and uncertain in matters of great import, could not command the fiery spirits of more determined characters. At that Imperial Diet which was held at Augsburg in 1547, the victorious Emperor had endeavoured, in his way, to compose the disputes of the Churches, and had pressed upon the vanquished Protestants a preliminary formula of faith, called the Interim. From the point of view of the Roman Catholics, it was considered as extreme toleration, which was only bearable because it gradually led back to the Old Church; from the point of view of zealous Protestants, it was held to be insupportable tyranny, which ought to be withstood. The ecclesiastical leaders of the opposition rose everywhere against this tyranny; hundreds of preachers were driven from their benefices and went about with their staffs as miserable pilgrims, and many fell victims to the furious reaction. It was the heroic time of the Protestant faith; simple preachers, fathers with wives and children, manfully suffered for their convictions, and were soon followed by thousands of laity.

But this enthusiasm was fraught with danger. The Interim was the beginning of vehement theological disputes, even among Luther's followers. The struggle of individuals became also the struggle of the Universities. The successors of Frederick the Wise lost the University of Wittenberg as well as the Electoral dignity; Melancthon and the Wittenbergers were under the influence of Maurice and his brothers; while the most zealous Lutherans were a.s.sembled at the new University of Jena.

This race of vehement men was followed by another generation of _Epigonen_. At the end of the century German Protestantism appeared in most of the provinces to be secure from outward dangers. Then the ecclesiastics became too self-sufficient and fond of power--the failings of a privileged order. Influential counsellors of weak princes, and rulers of public opinion, they themselves persecuted other believers with the weapons of the old Church. They sometimes called down the civil power upon heretics; and the populace stormed the houses of the Reformers in Leipzig; at Dresden a courtly ecclesiastic was executed on account of heresy, though perhaps there may also have been political reasons. Thus this new life threw deep shadows over the souls of the people.

In Roman Catholic territories also, a vigorous and extraordinary life was roused. The Roman Catholic Church gave birth to a new discipline of the mind, a mode of human culture distinctly opposed to Protestantism.

Even in the old Church a greater depth of inward life was attained. A new system of rapturous excitement and self-denial, with high duties and an exalted ideal, was offered to satisfy the needs of the souls of the faithful. In Spain and Italy this new religious zeal was aroused, full of resignation and self-sacrifice, full of great talent, eagerness for combat, and glowing enthusiasm, and rich in manly vigour. But it was not a faith for Germans. It demanded the annihilation of free individuality, a rending from all the ties of the world, fanatical devotion, and an unconditional subjection of the individual to a great community. Each one had to make an offering of his life for a great aim, without criticism or scruple. Whilst Protestantism formed a higher standard, and imposed on each individual, the duty of seeking independently by an effort of his own mind, the key to divine and human knowledge, the new Catholicism grasped his whole being with an iron hand. Protestantism was, notwithstanding all the loyalty of the Reformers, essentially democratic; the new Catholicism concentrated all the powers of men, of which it demanded the most unhesitating submission, in a spiritual tyranny, under the dominion of the head of the Church, and afterwards under that of the State.

The great representatives of this new tendency in Church and State were the Jesuits. In the impa.s.sioned soul of a Spanish n.o.bleman smouldered the gloomy fire of the new Catholic teaching; amidst ascetic penances, in the restricted intercourse of a small brotherhood, the system was formed. In the year 1540 the Pope confirmed the brotherhood, and shortly after, the first members of the order hastened across the Alps and the Rhine into Germany, and began already to rule in the council of Trent. Their unhesitating determination strengthened the weak, and frightened the wavering. With wonderful rapidity the order established itself in Germany, where the old faith still subsisted along with the new; it acquired favour with the higher cla.s.ses, and a crowd of adherents amongst the people. Some princes gave up to it the spiritual dominion of their countries, above all the Hapsburgers; and besides them, the German princes of the Church, who could not uphold by their own intrinsic strength, the wavering faith of their subjects: and lastly the Dukes of Bavaria, who for more than a century had been in the habit of seeking advantage for their house in a close union with Rome. When the brotherhood first entered Germany the whole nation was on the point of becoming Protestant; even at the beginning of the Thirty years' war, after losses and successes on both sides, three fourths of Germany were Protestant; but in the year 1650, the whole of the new Imperial state, and the largest third of the rest of Germany, had again become Roman Catholic. So well did these foreign priests serve their Church.

The way in which they worked was marvellous; cautiously, step by step, with endless schemes, and firm determination, never wavering, bending to the storm, and indefatigably returning again, never giving up what they had once begun, pursuing the smallest, as well as the greatest plans at any sacrifice, this society presented the only specimen of an unconditional submission of the will, and surrender of everything to one idea, which did not find expression in individuals, but only in the society. The order governed, but no single member of it was free, not even the General of the order.

The society gained honour and favour; it understood well how to make itself beloved, or indispensable wherever it came; but it never found a home in Germany. Its fearful principle of mystery and secrecy was felt, not only by the Protestants, who endeavoured to break its power by their paper weapons, the flying-sheets, and made it answerable for every political misdeed, whether far or near, but also in the Roman Catholic countries. Even there it was only a guest, influential certainly, and much prized, but from time to time ecclesiastics and laity felt that it was a thing apart from them. All the other spiritual societies had become national,--the Jesuits never. It is not unnatural that this feeling was strongest among the Roman Catholic ecclesiastics, for their worldly prospects were often injured by the Jesuits.

Thus from the middle of the sixteenth century two opposite methods of mental cultivation, two different sources of morals and working power have struggled against one another. Devotion and unconditional subjection, against feelings of duty and thoughtful self-a.s.sertion; rapid and unhesitating decision, against conscientious doubts; a spirit of energy, working laboriously with much deliberation and scheming after distant aims, against defective discipline; and an urging to unity, against a striving for separation.

These opposing powers appeared everywhere, especially in politics and at the courts of princes. Protestantism in its unfinished shape, though it had elevated the people, was no help to the formation of the character of the German princes; it had raised higher their external power, but it had lessened their inward stability; their youthful training became in general too theological to be practical. However immoral many of them were, they all suffered from conscientious doubts; and there was no ready answer for these doubts, such as the Roman Catholic confessor had always in store for them. The Protestant princes stood isolated; there was no firm bond of union between the Churches of the different states, but much trivial quarrelling and bitter hatred, not only between Lutherans and Reformers, but even amongst the followers of the Augsburg confession; and this diminished the strength of the princes. Whilst the priests of the Roman Catholic Church did their best to unite their rulers, the Protestant ecclesiastics helped to increase the disunion of theirs. So it is not surprising, that the Protestants for a long time stood at a disadvantage in their political struggle with the old faith. The Germans had not yet found, and did not for centuries attain to, the new const.i.tution of State, which transfers the mainspring of government from the accidental will of the ruler, to the conscience of the nation, and which places in a regulated path, citizens of talent and integrity as advisers to the crown; public opinion was still weak, the daily press not yet in existence, and the relation between the political rights of the princes and the people very undefined.

Protestantism had everywhere produced political convulsions, from the peasant war even into the following century. The Reformation had unloosed all tongues, it had given the Germans a freer judgment upon their position as citizens, and had inspired individuals with the courage to fight for their own convictions. The peasant now loudly murmured against exorbitant burdens, the members of guilds against the selfish dominion of the corporations, and the n.o.ble members of the provincial estates against the extravagant demands of the sovereign for war expenses. The wild democratic disturbances of 1525 were with Luther's entire approbation easily put down, but democratic tendencies did not therefore cease, and together with them, anabaptist and socialist views spread from city to city. Their teaching, which scarcely forms a system, took a different colouring in different individuals, from the harmless theorist who imagined a community of good citizens without egotism, full of self-abnegation, as did the talented Eberlin, to the reckless fanatic who tried to establish a new Zion at Munster, with an illusive community of goods and wives. These excitements lost their power towards the end of the century, but still continued to ferment among the people, especially in those provinces, where the Protestant opposition of the estates excited the people against the old faith of the rulers of the country. Thus it was in Bohemia, Moravia, and Upper Austria. The more zealously the Hapsburgers endeavoured, by means of the Jesuits, to restore the old faith, the more it was kept in check, even in their own country, by the demands of the opposition in the estates, and the commotions among the people. And well did they perceive the threatening connection of this opposition to their house. Two ways only were therefore open to them, either they must themselves have become Protestants, which they found impossible, or they must have resolutely destroyed the dangerous teaching and pretensions which upset the souls of men everywhere, especially in their own country. The Hapsburger appeared who attempted this.

Meanwhile the spirit of the old Church had been raised, by the great victories which it had gained in other countries. The Protestant princes combined against the threatened offensive movement of the Roman Catholic party, as before at Smalkald, and the Roman Catholic party answered by the formation of the League; but the object at heart, of the League was attack, while that of the Protestants was only defence.

This was the political state of Germany before the Thirty years' war; a most unsatisfactory state. Discontent was general, a mournful tendency, a disposition to prophecy evil, were the significant signs of the times. Every deed of violence which was announced to the people in the flying-sheets, was accompanied by remarks on the bad times. And yet we know for certain that immorality had not become strikingly greater in the country. There was wealth in the cities, and even in the country increase of prosperity; there was regular government everywhere, better order and greater security of existence, luxury and an inordinate love of enjoyment had undoubtedly increased, together with riches; even among the lower strata of the people greed was awakened, life became more varied and dearer, and much indifference began to be shown concerning the quarrels of ecclesiastics. The best began to be gloomy, and even cheerful natures, like the honest Bartholomaus Ringwald, became prophets of misfortune, and wished for death.

And there was good reason for this gloom. There was something diseased in the life of Germany, an incomprehensible burden weighed it down, which marred its development. Luther's teaching, it is true, produced the greatest spiritual and intellectual progress which Germany had ever made through one man, but the demands of life increased with every expansion of the soul. The new mental culture must be followed by a corresponding advance in earthly condition, a greater independence in faith, demanded imperiously a stronger power of political development But it was precisely this teaching, which appeared like the early dawn of a better life, that conveyed to the people the consciousness of their own political weakness, and by this weakness they became one-sided and narrow minded. Germany being divided into countless territories under weak princes, its people everywhere involved in and occupied with trifling disputes, were deficient in that which is indispensable to a genial growth; they needed a general elevation, a great united will, and a sphere of moral duties, which alone makes men pre-eminently cheerful and manly. The fatherland of the Germans extended probably from Lorraine to the Oder, but in no single portion of it did they live like the citizens of Elizabeth or Henry IV.

Thus already inwardly diseased, Germany entered upon a war of thirty years. When the war ended, there was little remaining of the great nation. For yet a century to come, the successors of the survivors were deficient in that most manly of all feelings,--political enthusiasm.

Luther had raised his people out of the epic life of the middle ages.

The Thirty years' war had destroyed the popular strength, and forced the Germans into individual life, the mental const.i.tution of which one may truly call lyrical. That which will here be depicted from the accounts of cotemporaries, is a sad joyless time.

CHAPTER I.

THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR.--THE ARMY.

The opposition between the interests of the house of Hapsburg and of the German nation, and between the old and new faith, led to a b.l.o.o.d.y catastrophe. If any one should inquire how such a war could rage through a whole generation, and so fearfully exhaust a powerful people, he will receive this striking answer, that the war was so long and terrible, because none of the contending parties were able to carry it out on a great and decisive scale.

The largest armies in the Thirty years' war did not exceed in strength one corps of a modern army. Tilly considered forty thousand men the greatest number of troops that a general could wish to have. It was only occasionally that an army reached that strength; almost all the great battles were fought by smaller bodies of men. Numerous were the detachments, and very great were the losses by skirmishes, illnesses, and desertion. As there was no regular system for maintaining the strength of the army, its effective amount fluctuated in a remarkable way. Once, indeed, Wallenstein united a larger force under his command--according to some accounts a hundred thousand men--but they did not form one army, nay, they were hardly in any military connection, for the undisciplined bands with which, in 1629, he subdued the German territories of the Emperor, were dispersed over half Germany. Such large ma.s.ses of soldiers appeared to all parties as a terrible venture; they could not, in fact, be kept under control, and after that, no general commanded more than half that number.[1]

An army in order of battle was considered as a movable fortress, the central point of which was the General himself, who ruled all the details; he had to survey the ground and every position, and every attack was directed by him. Adjutantcies and staff service were hardly established. It was part of the strategy to keep the army together in ma.s.ses, to defend the ranks by earth works, and not to allow horse or man to be out of observation and control. In marching also, the army was kept close together in narrow quarters, generally within the s.p.a.ce of a camp; from this arose commissariat difficulties, the high-roads were bad, often almost impa.s.sable, the conveyance of provisions compulsory, and always ill-regulated: and worst of all, the army was attended by an intense baggage-train, which, with the wild-robber system, quickly wasted the most fertile countries.

Great care was therefore taken that no such embarra.s.sment should arise.

Neither the Emperor nor the Princes of the Empire were in a condition to maintain forty thousand men out of their income even for three months. The regular revenue of the sovereign was much less than now, and the maintenance of an army far more costly. The greater part of the revenue was derived from t.i.thes in kind, which in time of war was insecure and difficult to realize. The finances of the parties engaged in this war were even at the commencement of it in a most lamentable state.

In the winter of 1619 and 1620, half the Bohemian army died of hunger and cold, from the want of pay and a commissariat; in September 1620, more than four and a half million of gulden of pay was owing to the troops, and there were endless mutinies, and the King Palatine Frederick could not aid his Protestant allies with subsidies. The Emperor was then not in much better condition, but he soon afterwards obtained Spanish subsidies. When the Elector of Saxony, whose finances were better regulated, first hired fifteen hundred men in December, 1619, he could not pay them regularly. What was granted by the estates in war taxes, and the so-called voluntary contributions of the opulent, did not go far; loans even in the first year of the war were very difficult to realize; they were attempted with the banking-houses of southern Germany, and also in Hamburg, but seldom with success. City communities were considered safer debtors than the great princes. There were dealings about the smallest sums even with private individuals.

Saxony in 1621, hoped to get from fifty to sixty thousand guldens from the Fuggers, and endeavoured in vain to borrow thirty and seventy thousand gulden from capitalists. Maximilian of Bavaria, and the League, made a great loan for the war of one million two hundred thousand gulden at twelve per cent, from the merchants in Genoa, for this the Fuggers became responsible, and the salt trade of Augsburg was given to them for their security. Just one hundred years before, this said banking-house had taken an important share in the election of the Emperor Charles V., and now it helped to secure the victory of the Roman Catholic party; for the Bohemian war was decided even more by the want of money than by the battle of the Weissen-Berge. Thus the war began with the governments being in a general state of insolvency; and therefore the maintenance of great armies became impossible.

It is evident that there was a fatal disproportion between the military strength of the parties and the ultimate object of every war. None of them could entirely subdue their opponents. The armies were too small, and had too little durability, to be able to control by regular strategic operations, the numerous and warlike people of wide-spread districts. Whilst a victorious army was ruling near the Rhine or the Oder, a new enemy was collecting in the north on the sh.o.r.es of the Baltic. The German theatre of war, also, was not so const.i.tuted as to be easily productive of lasting results. Almost every city, and many country seats were fortified. The siege guns were still unwieldy and uncertain in their aim, and the defence of fortified places was proportionably stronger than the attack. Thus war became princ.i.p.ally a combat of sieges; every captured town weakened the victorious army, from the necessity of leaving garrisons. When a province had been conquered, the conqueror was often not in a position to withstand the conquered in open battle. By new exertion the conqueror was driven from the field; then followed fresh sieges and captures, and again fatal disruption of strength.

It was a war full of b.l.o.o.d.y battles and glorious victories, and also of excessive alternations of fortune. Numerous were the dark hero forms that loomed out of the chaos of blood and fire; the iron Ernst von Mansfeld, the fantastic Brunswicker, Bernhard of Weimar; and on the other side, Maximilian of Bavaria, and the generals of the League, Tilly, Pappenheim, and the able Mercy; the leaders of the Imperial army, the daring Wallenstein and Altringer; the great French heroes, Conde and Turenne, and amongst the Swedes, Horn, Bauer, Torstenson, Wrangel, and above all the mighty prince of war, Gustavus Adolphus. How much manly energy excited to the highest pitch, and yet how slow and poor were the political results obtained! how quickly was again lost, what appeared to have been obtained by the greatest amount of power!

How often did the parties themselves change the objects after which they were striving, nay even the banner for which they desired victory!

The political events of the war can only be briefly mentioned here; they may be divided into three periods. The first, from 1618 to 1630, is the time of the Imperial triumphs. The Protestant estates of Bohemia, contrary to law and their own word, refused the Bohemian crown to the Archduke Ferdinand, and chose for their ruler the Elector Palatine, a reformer. But by means of the League and the Lutheran Electors of Saxony, Ferdinand became Emperor. His opponent was beaten in the battle of the Weissen-Berge, and left the country as a fugitive.

Here and there, the Protestant opposition continued to blaze up, but divided, without plan, and with weak resources. Baden-Durlach, the Mansfelder, the Brunswicker, and lastly the circle of lower Saxony with the Danish King, succ.u.mbed to the troops of the League and the Emperor.

Ferdinand II., who though Emperor, was still a fugitive in the states belonging to his house, obtained through the a.s.sistance of an experienced mercenary commander, Wallenstein, a large body of troops, whom he maintained in the territory of the princ.i.p.ality by contribution and pillage. Ever greater did the Emperor's army continue to swell; ever higher rose his claims in Germany and Italy: the old idea of Charles V. after the Smalkaldic war became a living principle in the nephew; he would subdue Germany, as his predecessor had done the peasants and the estates in the Austrian provinces; he would crush all independence, the privileges of cities, the rights of the estates, the pride and family power of princes--he hoped to subjugate all Germany to his faith and his house. But throughout the whole of Germany sounded a cry of grief and indignation, at the horrible marauding war which was conducted by the merciless general of the Hapsburger. All the allies of the Imperial house rose threateningly against him. The Princes of the League, and above all Maximilian of Bavaria, looked abroad for help; they subdued the high spirit of the Emperor, and he was obliged to dismiss his faithful General and to control the barbarous army. Nay, more, even the Holy Father began to fear the Emperor. The Pope himself united with France in order to bring Swedish help to the Protestants.

The lion of the north disembarked on the German coast.

Now began the second period of the war. The swelling billows of the Roman Catholic power had overflowed Germany even up to the Northern Sea. From 1630 to 1634 came the Protestant counter-current, which flowed in a resistless course from north to south over the third part of Germany. Even after the death of their king, the Swedish Generals kept their ascendency in the field; Wallenstein himself abandoned the Emperor, and was secretly murdered. The Roman Catholic party had begun to lose courage, when, by a last effort of collected strength, it won the b.l.o.o.d.y battle of Nordlingen.

Then followed the third period of fourteen years, from 1634 to 1648, in which victory and reverses were nearly equal on both sides. The Swedes, driven back to the Northern Sea, girding up their whole strength, again burst forth into the middle of Germany. Again the tide of fortune ebbed to and fro, becoming gradually less powerful. The French, greedy of booty, spread themselves as far as the Rhine; the land was devastated, and famine and pestilence raged. The Swedes, though losing one General after another, kept the field and maintained their claims with unceasing pertinacity. In opposition to them stood the equally inflexible Maximilian, Prince of the League. Even in the last decade of the war, the Bavarians fought for three years the most renowned campaigns which this dynasty has to boast of. The fanatical Ferdinand was dead, his successor, able, moderate, and an experienced soldier, persevered from necessity; he also was firm and tenacious. No party could bring about a decisive result. For years negotiations for peace were carried on; whilst the generals fought, the cities and villages were depopulated and the fields were overgrown with rank weeds. Peace came at last; it was not brought about by great battles, nor by irresistible political combinations, but chiefly by the weariness of the combatants, and Germany celebrated it with festivities though she had lost three fourths of her population.

All this gives to the Thirty years' war the appearance of foredoomed annihilation, ushered in as it was by the most fearful visitations of nature. Above the strife of parties a terrible fate spread its wings; it carried off the leaders and prostrated them in the dust, the greatest human strength became powerless under its hand; at last, satiated with devastation and death, it turned its face slowly from the country which had become a great charnel house.

It is not the intention of this work to characterize the Generals and battles belonging to this period of struggle, but to speak of the condition and circ.u.mstances of the German people, both of the destructive and suffering portions of the population, of the army, alike with the citizen and peasant. Since the Burgundian war and the Italian battles of Maximilian and Charles V., the burgher infantry had thrown into the background the knightly cavalry of the middle ages.

The strength of the German army consisted of Landsknechte, freemen, either citizens or peasants, and among them occasionally a few n.o.bles.

They were for the most part mercenaries, who bound themselves voluntarily by contract to some banner for a time. They carried on war like a trade, sternly, actively, and enduringly. But the full vigour of their power was of short duration: their decadence may be dated from their revolt against the old Fronsperg; from that hour when they broke the heart of their father, the gray-headed Landsknecht hero. Many things combined to corrupt this new infantry: they were mercenaries, serving only for a time, accustomed to change their banner, and not to fight for an idea, but only for booty or their own advantage. They were not called into existence in consequence of the application of gunpowder to the art of war; but they more especially appropriated this new invention to themselves. The introduction of fire-arms into the army, certainly first showed the weakness of their opponents, the old cavalry of knighthood, but at the same time soon caused the diminution of their own efficiency, for these weapons were too clumsy and slow to insure victory on the battle-field. The final result still depended on the rushing charge of the pikemen and the onslaught of their great ma.s.ses on the enemy.

To this was added other detrimental circ.u.mstances; there were as yet no standing armies: when there was threatening of a feud, troops were a.s.sembled by the territorial lords great and small, and by the cities, and at the conclusion of the war they were dismissed. These wars were generally short and local; even the Hungarian wars were only summer campaigns of a few months. The German rulers, always in want of money, endeavoured to help themselves by the depreciation of the coinage, striking a lighter coin expressly for the payment of the soldiers, and also by faithlessly paying them less than had been agreed upon. This unworthy treatment demoralized the men, no less than the shortness of the service. Thus the Landsknechte became deceived deceivers, adventurers, plunderers and robbers.

The infantry at the beginning of the war used either firearms or pikes, the former to open the enemy's ranks, the latter to decide the battle by hand-to-hand fighting. At this period we find that the pikemen were the heavy infantry; they wore breastplates, bra.s.sarts, swords, and a pike eighteen feet long with an iron point, the handles of the best were of ash; the lance-corporals and subaltern officers had halberds and partisans. The two species of fire-arms which prevailed in the army were the musketoon (which with the Imperialists was a heavy weapon six feet long, with matchlocks and b.a.l.l.s, of which there were ten in the pound) and the short handgun, a weapon of lighter and smaller calibre, which in the beginning of the war bore amongst the infantry the old name of arquebuss. The musketeer wore also at his side a hanger, a weapon with a small curved point, and over his shoulder a bandolier with eleven cylindrical cases in which the charges were placed, a match holder, and a musket rest, a staff with a metal point and two metal p.r.o.ngs, on the top of which the musketeer laid his weapon: his head was covered with a helmet or morion; this last piece of armour was soon discarded. The foot arquebussier did not carry a rest or a shoulder-belt; he loaded from his shot-pouch and powder-horn. There were pikemen and musketeers in the same company, and long even before the great war there were companies in which fire-arms alone were borne.

Out of the light infantry were formed, in the middle of the war, what were called rifle companies, but among whom only a few had rifles. The grenadiers, who threw hand-grenades, were then formed in small numbers; for instance, in 1634, by the Swedes at the siege of Ratisbon.

At the beginning of the war the pikemen, as heavy infantry, were considered of importance, and they were put down in the muster-rolls as receiving double pay; but in the course of it they were found to be too unwieldy for long marches, helpless in attack, in short, almost useless, since the last decision of the battle now devolved upon the cavalry; thus they gradually sank into contempt, and the clever judgment p.r.o.nounced by the jovial Springinsfeld, accurately expresses the view that was taken of their utility. "A musketeer is indeed a poor, much hara.s.sed creature; but he lives in splendid happiness compared to a miserable pikeman: it is vexatious to think what hardships the poor simpletons endure; no one who had not experienced it themselves could believe it, and I think whoever kills a pikeman whom he could save, murders an innocent man, and can never be excused such a barbarous deed: for although these poor draught oxen--they were so called in derision--are formed to defend their brigades in the open field from the onslaught of the cavalry, yet they themselves do no one any injury, and he who throws himself upon their long spears deserves what he gets. In short, I have during my life seen many sharp encounters, but seldom found that a pikeman ever caused the death of any one." Nevertheless the pikemen kept their ground till towards the end of the seventeenth century. The musketeers who were, however, the great ma.s.s of the infantry, were rendered more agile by Gustavus Adolphus; he discarded from the Swedish army the musket rests, lightened their weapons and the calibre of the b.a.l.l.s, of which there were thirteen to the pound, and introduced instead of the rattling bandoliers, paper cartridges and pockets; but the musketeers, without bayonets, slow in firing, unaccustomed to fight in close ranks, were little fitted to decide an engagement.

The influence of the cavalry on the other hand increased. At the beginning of the war there were two contending principles concerning them, the method and arming of old knightly traditions were mixed up with the Landsknechte characteristics, many of whom were also hors.e.m.e.n.

The heavy cavalry were still considered an aristocratic corps, the n.o.bleman still placed himself with his charger, his knightly armour, his old knightly lance, and his troop of va.s.sals, for whom he drew pay, under the standard of the cavalry regiments. But the war made an end gradually of this remnant of old customs. It was still, however, an object of ambition to join the army as a soldier of fortune, either with an esquire or alone, and whoever estimated himself highly or had made much booty, thronged to the cavalry standard. In the German army there were four kinds of regular cavalry, the Lancers, in full armour even to the knightly spurs, without shield, with the knightly lance or the spear of the Landsknechte, a sword, and two holster pistols; the Cuira.s.siers, with similar armour, pistols and sword; the Arquebussiers, called later Carbineers, half armed, with morion, and pistol proof back and breast pieces, with two pistols and an arquebuss on a small bandolier; finally the Dragoons, mounted pikemen, or musketeers, who fought either on foot or on horseback. Besides these there were irregular cavalry Croats, Stradiots, and Hussars, who almost a century before, in 1546, had made a great sensation in Germany when Duke Maurice of Saxony borrowed them from King Ferdinand of Bohemia. Their appearance was not displeasing; they wore Turkish armour, a sabre, and a targe, but they were wild robbers, and in the worst repute. Gustavus Adolphus brought to Germany only Cuira.s.siers and Dragoons. His Cuira.s.siers were more lightly armed than the Imperial, but far superior to them in energy of attack. During the whole war the endeavour of the cavalry was to lighten their heavy armour; the more the army separated into military companies the more pressing was the necessity for greater activity.

In the sixteenth century the heavy guns were very varied in calibre and length of barrel, and had divers curious names. The sharp metz, the carronade, culverin and nightingale, the singer, the falcon and the falconet, the field serpent and serpentine, with b.a.l.l.s from one hundred pounds down to one pound, besides the organ,[2] mortars large and small, rifle-barrelled guns and rifles. But in the beginning of the Thirty years' war the forms were already simplified; they cast forty-eight, and twenty-four pounders, twelve and six pounders, with forty-two, twenty-four, twelve and six pound b.a.l.l.s;[3] the first were fortress and siege guns, the last were field guns; besides these, disproportionately long culverins and falconets, also chamber pieces for throwing sh.e.l.ls, or bomb mortars which were soon called howitzers, smaller mortars for throwing fire-b.a.l.l.s, stinkpots, &c.; and in the beginning of the war bombarders, which fired pieces of iron, lead, small shot, and stones. Lastly from forged pieces they fired half-ounce bullets, double, single, and half-hooks, or grappling irons. But the length of the barrels of the guns was too long for b.a.l.l.s; the powder was bad, and the aim consequently uncertain. Gustavus Adolphus introduced shorter and lighter guns; his leather cannon, made of copper cylinders with thick hemp and leather coverings[4] held together by iron hoops, soon ceased to be used, probably because they were not sufficiently durable, but his short four-pounders, two of which were given to every regiment, and which worked best with grape shot, lasted over the war. These field pieces fired not only from position but were moved with tolerable rapidity during action, but the bombardes and petards were unwieldy; the last were twisted round with ropes more like a sort of cannon than our bombs and grenades, but were of uncertain effect because the locks were badly prepared and they did not measure the time for the explosion. The old disposition of the Germans to give life to the inanimate had already in earlier times bestowed especial names on favourite guns, and the custom remained, even after pieces of the same calibre were cast in greater numbers; then particular guns, for example, were called after the planets, months, and signs of the zodiac, like a high sounding alphabet,[5] and in this case indicated by single letters. There was always a new name given according to the calibre, which in spite of all the simplification was still very varied. The progress of artillery and its influence on the conduct of war was impeded in the last half of the war by the want of experienced master gunners, the greater portion of them were infantry commanders; the loss of an artillery officer of capacity was difficult to replace.

The relative numbers of particular branches of the service were changed during the war. In the beginning the proportion of the cavalry to the infantry was as one to five, but soon they became one to three, and in the latter period they were sometimes the strongest. This striking fact is a proof both of the deterioration of the troops and of the art of war. In the exhausted country, the army could only be maintained by a strong force of cavalry, who could forage further and change their ground with more rapidity. As all who hoped for independence or booty pressed into the cavalry it was in better condition proportionately than the infantry, who at last were reduced to support themselves by reaping the scanty remains left by the hors.e.m.e.n. Undoubtedly the cavalry also became worse, the want of good horses was at last more sensibly felt than that of men, and the heavy cavalry could not be kept up, whilst in the last year the service of the scouts and foraging parties for the commissariat was brought to great perfection.