In the rear section we see a lad of strong figure, fresh face, and beaming eyes. He is sitting near the sternpost the better to see the landscape, and perhaps also to talk with the helmsman. His dress shows him of high rank. There are two persons in the cabin. One of them, a large man of noble appearance, sits near the door and often watches the lad, as he converses with the little old man sitting near him. These two persons are the Electoral Prince of Brandenburg, Frederick William, and Baron Leuchtmar.
Before the narrative proceeds further we must once more look back a little. Five years have elapsed since the funeral ceremony at Wolgast. From that place his parents took the Prince to Stettin, where they left him with the old Duke Bogislav the Fourteenth. He remained two years among the brave, true-hearted Pomeranians, studying the people, their form of government, the agricultural and maritime affairs. During this time he made great progress in the art of fencing and in many departments of scientific education. In his fifteenth year he spoke and wrote Latin, French, and Polish besides his mother tongue, and at last the Elector decided to send him to the world-famous University of Leyden in Holland. Schwarzenberg made objections. There was not sufficient money in the Elector’s coffers to pay the expenses of such a journey. All the more determined was the so-called Swedish party that he should go; and at last the Electoress overcame Schwarzenberg’s objections by providing thirty thousand thalers from her own savings. It did not seem any burden to the mother so long as it secured the safety and the highest possible education of her son.
For three years the Prince has been in Holland. He has temporarily left Leyden, where a pestilence is raging. For several days he has been journeying about, for he is anxious not alone to acquire an education, but also to study the people with whom he is living.
The boat stops at a village and the passengers go ashore. The village is a model of Dutch cleanliness. The neatly built houses, mostly one story in height, are handsomely painted, and the paint is always kept fresh. The mirror-like windows are closely hung with snow-white curtains. There is a little garden in front of every house. The pavements consist of small red and blue tiles so laid that they resemble the pattern of a Turkish carpet. No filth is permitted to remain upon the streets. They are thoroughly washed and sprinkled with white sand and sometimes with flowers. No cow or horse is allowed to stray about. They are all kept in stalls in the rear of the houses. Not only the wooden implements in the houses, but the gates, the trellises, and posts in the fields against which the cattle rub themselves are painted, and some of the latter have carved work at the top. Every house has two doors, one at the rear for ordinary outgoing and incoming, the other being used as the principal entrance, and opened only upon the occasion of christenings, marriages, and funerals. This door, the pride of the owner, is covered with carving and here and there gilded. Flowers grow luxuriously in the gardens. The tops of the trees are cut off and the trunks smeared with white paint. This description will give the reader a picture of a Dutch village of that time as well as of the well-to-do condition of the people.
After our travellers had drunk some good beer and eaten a lobster, they hired horses and were soon on their way to Arnheim, a servant who was to bring the horses back following them. The nearer they came to the city the more delightful was the country, which began to look like a large garden. Although there were no rocky heights, the high dikes which rose along the way, the multitude of country seats, mansions, and towers, the beautiful groups of trees in the fields and meadows and upon the edges of the streams, varied the landscape continually and presented pictures worthy of the brush of the greatest painter. Cities, villages, castles with their luxurious surroundings, country houses of every style of architecture with handsome gardens, boundless grassy meadows with herds of cattle, lakes which had been made by peat-cutters, countless islands upon which long reeds were cultivated as thatch for the houses, serving also as homes for great flocks of waterfowl,—such was the panorama which met the eyes of the Prince.
The life of the Prince in this richly blest country was permanently influenced by it. His love of art and science was developed and he gained greatly in knowledge of State affairs and the ways of the world from his intercourse with Dutch statesmen, burghers, and peasants. It was of the highest significance also in relation to the future that he studied the plans and schemes of the great Prince of Orange. The army of this man was still a nursery of field-marshals and naval officers.
The Prince and Leuchtmar at last reached Arnheim. The Prince occupied a beautiful country house in the suburbs. Let us go with the Prince to the house while Leuchtmar is otherwise engaged. The entrance is paved with white marble, covered with a carpet and bordered with veined marble to the height of four feet. The Prince enters a lofty apartment on the right. The fireplace is of black marble with a broad mirror above it. Upon the wall surrounded by chaplets are half-length portraits of the Elector George William and his wife. Weapons of various kinds are also suspended among the pictures. A dark polished table, with chairs placed by it, and a bookcase are the only furniture in the room. As soon as the Prince has changed his dress he takes his diary and notes down his recollections of the trip. Ever since Leuchtmar’s talks the Prince had devoted himself assiduously to this diary. All the more unfortunate is it that it has been lost.
In the vicinity of Arnheim, at Rehnen, dwelt the clever and once so beautiful Elizabeth, daughter of King James the First of England, who still called herself Queen of Bohemia and Electoress of the Palatinate. Her country house stood in a handsome park. The last hopes of her husband, Frederick the Fifth, disappeared with the death of Gustavus Adolphus. Shortly after the news came he was stricken down with an illness which proved fatal. Both the oldest sons of the Electoress, the Prince, subsequently the Elector Carl Ludwig, and Prince Rupert, who was a year older than the Electoral Prince Frederick William, had been fellow-students with him at Leyden and in daily intercourse with him. They were now spending a short time with their mother in Rehnen. Besides these, the Electoress had a younger son, Prince Moritz, and two daughters, Princess Henrietta, who was so well educated that in her nineteenth year she engaged in arguments with Dutch scholars, and Princess Louise, who was sprightlier by nature and had a special talent in painting.
While the Prince was living in Arnheim it was his custom to ride over to Rehnen every afternoon and make a call of a few hours, returning at dusk. One day, as he approached Rehnen, he was informed by the porter to whom he gave his horse that he would find the Electoress with the princes and princesses in the pavilion at the lower end of the park. In the middle of the park he reached a garden ornamented with marble statuary. From this point he saw his princely relatives. The green doors and windows of the pavilion in which they were sitting were open, so that the sunshine and perfume of the garden found their way into it. His cousins saw him coming and advanced to meet him, and the Electoress and princesses greeted him affectionately upon the estrade.
The time passed in animated conversation. It was the dearest wish of the Electoress to secure the heir of Brandenburg for her son-in-law. The pleasure of the conversation, however, was soon seriously marred. The Princess Henrietta asked if Wallenstein had not actually attempted to secure the crown of Bohemia. The Princess Louise maintained that he had. “I look with a shudder,” said she, “into the dark, bottomless abyss of that man’s soul. Despicable ambitions rage there. Selfishness characterizes every mortal more or less, but he had no other impelling motive. All love in his nature was destroyed by it, and where there is no love one becomes a fiend. What were Luther, the Pope, or Calvin to him! He made no account of them. His own person was all he cared for. Many a time I have said ‘He is Satan incarnate!’”
“And yet,” remarked the Electoress, “his faith in the stars—”
“Superstition,” replied the Princess.
“I will not dispute with you about the word,” replied the Electoral Prince. “But you must concede one thing: He sought to read his fate in the position of the stars. He believed that everything which happened to him was written there, and he tried to read the writing. To that extent he acknowledged the power which governs the stars.”
“Then in reality his superstition was an evidence of his faith,” said the Electoress. “Then if he sometimes fell into a fanaticism, which sprung from his belief in his favorite science, we are bound to excuse him. Do you mean that?”
“Not entirely,” replied Frederick William. “In part he was a fanatic; but besides this there was much of evil in him, and when that evil took possession of his nature it destroyed everything before it.”
The Princess Henrietta replied: “There is nothing upon earth which interests me so much as the human soul. The famous botanist Kluit at Leyden analyzes an object and examines its organism and structure with the microscope. I would like to have an instrument which would so disclose the soul of Wallenstein that I might look into its lowest depths. What a picture it would reveal to my gaze!”
“Sister,” said the Princess Louise, “I agree with you. Many years have passed, but I clearly remember that for a long time I could not rid myself of the picture of the dying Wallenstein by day or night. The door is burst open by the hired assassin. There he stands in the middle of his chamber, an apparition in his white night-dress. The assassin trembles for an instant. Then plucking up courage he rushes upon Wallenstein and pierces him with his knife. Silently and with outstretched arms he receives his death-wound. Not a word! not a sound! He expires in silence! What a monstrous spectacle! But I will desist, for our Rupert is again growing angry.”
It was true, but Rupert only said: “Not yet, sister! But I think you ought not to make such an ado about a murderous soul. In the end you may sympathize with that wretch as well as with Maximilian, who took away our inheritance without a sting of conscience.”
The Electoress grew visibly pale. It was always so when she heard the name of the man who had defeated her husband’s army at Prague.
The oldest Prince, desirous of pacifying his brother, who was somewhat impetuous and outbreaking, said: “Now I will say a word for the sisters who have often expressed themselves as to Maximilian. I may not repeat what they said here, but I remember it. Believe me as to one thing. Had no battle been fought at Prague and had not Maximilian usurped our birthright, I should still have despised him from the bottom of my soul and ranked him far below Wallenstein. How basely he acted! He first suggested his removal. Then when Gustavus Adolphus had driven him into straits, he whined like a dog at Wallenstein’s door and begged for protection and assistance. But hardly is Gustavus Adolphus gone when he again begins his machinations, and continues them until Wallenstein is killed by an assassin.”
“Do you seriously mean, cousin,” said the Electoral Prince, “that Maximilian was the only cause of Wallenstein’s murder?”
“Not the only one, but the principal one.”
Prince Ludwig now spoke: “I do not believe it. Maximilian had a hand in the game, but the Emperor is mainly responsible. What a weak successor the Emperor’s oldest son will prove!”
“He is only nominally commander-in-chief of the army. The real leader is Gallas, and he has learned from his great predecessors. It almost seemed as if Tilly or Pappenheim were again leading the Imperialists, so bravely did they fight at Nordlingen, where Marshal Franz Horn was captured.”
“This is also an inestimable loss for our side,” said the Electoress with a sigh. “With my own ears I have heard Gustavus Adolphus call him his right hand. As long as the Swedes had a Marshal Franz Horn and a Chancellor Oxenstjern they decided to continue the war against the Emperor and the League. But Horn has been languishing in prison for several years.”
“Twenty years,” began Prince Ludwig, “the war has already lasted. If the Elector of Saxony did not continually temporize, possibly some settlement might be reached, but that vacillating gentleman thinks only of his own advantage. The Protestant cause has been left in the lurch. He does not consider our rights in treaties of peace with the Emperor. But the enraged Swedes now in his country will pay him off.”
The Electoress folded her hands. “May the Almighty,” she sighed, “soon bring peace to the German Empire and restore us our rights!”
Prince Ludwig replied: “Mother, we three must also play some part upon the stage of war. There is still much remaining to be done.”
The wild Rupert exclaimed: “Even if peace could be made, I would not have it so until I have done something in the field.”
The Electoral Prince said nothing, but his look and manner showed how ardently he longed to take part in the struggle.
The Elector of Brandenburg had agreed to the treaty of peace which had been concluded between the Emperor and the Elector of Saxony. That the Electoress of the Palatinate as well as her sons and daughters were dissatisfied may well be imagined. But up to this time nothing had been said of his father’s politics in the presence of the Electoral Prince. But now Prince Rupert broke out: “The Electors by this treaty with the Emperor have proved traitors to a good cause.”
The Electoral Prince rose and with flashing eyes passionately exclaimed: “Cousin, woe to you or me, if I have heard aright!”
The rest of the company were alarmed. They were familiar with Rupert’s wildness and impetuosity, but now they had experienced Frederick William’s resoluteness and passionate sense of honor.
“Dear cousin,” said Ludwig, “our brother only refers to the Elector of Saxony.”
The mother and the princesses confirmed the statement and demanded of Prince Rupert by look and action that he should agree with them.
He remained silent, and his manner caused the apprehension that he was disinclined to answer his cousin. His mother’s look, however, had such power over him that he overmastered his furious temper. He said: “Far be it from me to tarnish your father’s honor with a breath from my mouth.”
The Prince was outwardly satisfied with the explanation. Political conversation was dropped, and they talked about The Hague, which the Electoral Prince was going to visit during the next few days.
In the bright moonlight Frederick William rode back to Arnheim.
There had been many changes in Brandenburg. They feared the Swedes now as greatly as they had once feared the Emperor’s army. The cause of this will be found in the following statement:
At the beginning of the year 1637 Emperor Ferdinand the Second died, and his successor, Ferdinand the Third, exhibited a friendly attitude toward Brandenburg. In March of the same year Bogislav the Fourteenth died childless, and Brandenburg made preparations to enforce certain rights in Pomerania which were provided in the treaty. Its most important cities at the time were beset by Swedish troops. Sweden also asserted certain claims in the dukedom, which it would not yield until it was assured of ample indemnity for the great sacrifices it had made in maintaining the good cause. When George William summoned Stettin to take the oath of allegiance, the Swedish commander Banner was so infuriated that he ordered the herald bearing the summons to be hanged. It was only by the greatest exertions that the Duchess-widow saved the poor man’s life.
This proceeding induced the Elector to agree to the treaty which had been made between the Emperor and the Elector of Saxony. The Emperor expressly declared his readiness to support the Elector in his efforts to obtain a settlement in Pomerania, with all the necessary means. Shortly thereafter the Brandenburg troops, acting with the Imperialists under Gallas, invaded Pomerania. At first the Swedes were driven back, but after they had received reinforcements of fourteen thousand men from home the fortunes of war changed, and they drove the Brandenburgers and Imperialists before them. The unfortunate people of Brandenburg suffered unspeakably at the hands of their former friends who believed that they had been treacherous, and for that reason became their bitter enemies. Their former troubles were light in comparison with those growing out of Sweden’s revenge. Although the main army was removed to the south, Brandenburg continued to suffer from the depredations of small detachments.
While the campaigns of Banner in Bohemia and of the heroic Bernhard von Weimar upon the Rhine were in progress, George William summoned the Electoral Prince from Holland. The court residence was removed from Berlin to the strong fortress of Spandau. The Prince arrived there with Leuchtmar and Müller, whose functions had ceased. The jovial and patriotic Colonel von Burgsdorf was also there. Speaking of the Prince, and the events of the day upon one occasion when Leuchtmar was visiting Burgsdorf, the former said: “The Prince would have been in Holland to-day had it not been for him.” (Leuchtmar made three crosses in the air.)
“Schwarzenberg! Yes, he sits upon our necks like the Evil One himself! They say he can do anything he wishes with the Elector. He has even asserted that the Prince must marry a Catholic lady. And whom do you suppose he has in mind? The Archduchess Isabella Clara. The Elector knows nothing about it as yet, but Schwarzenberg believes the Prince will be greatly pleased.”
Leuchtmar smiled. “If he thinks the Prince can be moulded and pressed to suit his pleasure he is mistaken. There are surely few young men of his age who show an equal force of character. Here is one example out of many. In The Hague, as you well know, there are many young and distinguished people, sons of princes, counts, and others. A clear-headed man can learn much from association with them, while a frivolous man would only learn things destructive of body and soul alike. When I received the letter requesting me to take the Prince to The Hague I implored divine help to keep his life blameless. The Prince surprised me reading it and asked what troubled me. I told him frankly what disquieted me, and that in my trouble I had sought divine assistance. The Prince, deeply moved, took my hand and said that he would always heed my admonitions. I was consoled for a time, but anxiety returned when we arrived at The Hague and I thought of the young men who would be his associates. Many of them had been to Paris. I knew the Prince’s strength of character but I feared the insidious temptations to which he might be exposed. I had no outward way of protecting him. What power can a governor have over a nineteen-year-old prince? But he is not a hypocrite, I can tell you. He likes jolly company and a beaker of good wine, and he is very jovial. These young gentlemen of the Paris school were in the habit of giving suppers at which some handsome but not very reputable young women were present. Think of it! And to one of these suppers the Prince was invited.”
“I should like to have wrung the necks of those who invited him!” exclaimed the Colonel.
“Listen further. The Prince went to the designated place with young Von Loewen, from whom I learned the particulars. At first he could not trust his own eyes. But when he was convinced of the kind of company he had fallen into, he took his hat and indignantly left the place.”
Interrupting the Baron, Burgsdorf exclaimed, “Did the Prince do that?”
“Why should you doubt it?” replied Leuchtmar. “He did still more. Some of these sons of princes and counts sprang up and followed him, seized him by the arm and hand and tried to induce him to stay. But he shook them off and said: ‘You may justify yourselves in what you are doing; but I know what I owe to my parents, to my country, and to myself.’”
Burgsdorf vainly strove to keep back the tears. Pacing the floor to and fro he exclaimed, “Lord, my God, he is every inch a prince. If he were my child I would love him to death—that old ass—but what am I saying? He is the Electoral Prince, and will he not be my Prince every day? Whom have we to thank for such a Prince, whom else than—”
“Than God,” replied Leuchtmar.
“Yes,” replied the Colonel; “your first thanks for everything are due to Him. But we also have to thank you for your judicious course, excellent man. Believe me, if Frederick William turns out to be a great prince, your name will not be forgotten. And should a thankless posterity forget him, he will not be forgotten by God. Of one thing I am sure, the Prince himself will be grateful to you as long as he lives.”
“He has already more than repaid me for my efforts,” replied Leuchtmar. “I will show you in the morning a deed of gift which I lately received from the Prince. But be seated. I have not yet finished what I wish to say. A few days after this incident, the Prince left The Hague.”
“Why? Did he fear that sometime he might yield to temptation?”
“It may be. But where did he go? Can you guess? To the camp. The Prince of Orange was investing Breda at the time. He offered his services to him, and there he had daily experience in the art of war under the eyes of distinguished field officers. When Orange learned the cause of his flight from The Hague, he said to him: ‘My Prince, your flight displays more heroic spirit than the taking of Breda will do. He who can conquer himself so early will always be great.’”
Their further conversation was devoted to matters in Holland.
Count Schwarzenberg gave a banquet in honor of the Prince, who accepted the invitation, although he had no sympathy with the Count, because his father desired him to do so. A sudden illness seized him at the table and he was taken home very sick. On the next day he felt better and soon recovered. It was whispered among the people that an attempt had been made to poison him. The Electoral Prince, they said, is the only survivor of his family who can enter upon the inheritance, and Schwarzenberg is the Emperor’s favorite. Two other stories were also circulated. A man was said to have been discovered under the Prince’s bed with a dagger. It was also said that an attempt had been made upon his life while he was hunting. These and similar stories passed from mouth to mouth, which had the effect to make the people more uncomfortable and wretched. At last the citizens of Berlin and Cöln decided to send a message to the Prince. It read as follows:
“It is well known how greatly the country has been weakened and wasted by friend and foe, and that many officers have been sumptuously entertained though they had no commands, and have been paid large salaries, while under-officers and soldiers have had but scanty allowances and have been wretched and hungry. The outrages of the Elector’s troopers have been so monstrous that neither horse, cow, ox, nor man was safe from them; and for that reason tillage in the best localities has been abandoned. Business has stopped; cities, towns, and villages are deserted, and for miles you will find neither men nor cattle nor even a dog or a cat. In spite of all this, heavy tribute has been levied and collected by military force. They have taken houses, farms, gardens, fields, and vineyards, and given them to officers who were exempt from levies. Berlin has paid immense sums monthly for the support of the Elector’s troops, and Cöln in proportion. The Swedes under Colonel von Debitz, after the Elector’s troops had abandoned the roads to Landsberg, Frankfort, and Pürstenwald, and left everything in the greatest disorder, invaded the residences and stripped them of almost everything. Merchants, tradespeople, and travellers were robbed of their goods and property. Villages lay in ashes. The town-house servants, church and school teachers have not been paid. In short, Berlin and Cöln have been reduced to poverty by fire, robbery, and oppression. Many have put an end to their wretched lives by water, the rope, or the knife; while others, taking wives and children, have forsaken their homes and are wandering about in wretched plight.”
Burgsdorf handed this message to the Prince on the forenoon of the day it was received. He hoped that he would graciously receive the message, meet his friends, consult with them about the condition of the country, settle upon some plan of action for its relief, and afterwards lay it before the Elector, and especially insist upon Schwarzenberg’s dismissal. But Burgsdorf had greatly deceived himself. The Prince, whose motto was the words of the Psalm “Lord, show me the way that I must go,” had decided upon his homeward journey the position he would take at the Electoral Court. After reading the message he looked earnestly at Burgsdorf and said: “You know the story of Absalom, how he sat by the gate and did obeisance to all who came nigh to the King for judgment and stole the hearts of the men of Israel. Do you think these stories are unknown to me? I know also the story in which we are told how David met Saul, who would have killed him in the cave, and how some of David’s friends bade him kill Saul. You ought to know these stories; but better still you ought to understand that mere knowing is of little use. ‘Be it far from me,’ said David, ‘to lay my hand upon the Lord’s anointed.’ You seem astonished that I have referred to these past events. You certainly do not desire to make an attempt upon the life of the Prince of this country. But I say to you, ‘Far be it from me to stretch out my hand against the country’s anointed,’ so take back the message. If my father seeks my advice, my word for the good cause shall not be lacking, so far as God gives me the power to perceive what is right.”
On the same day the Prince talked with his mother about the events we have described, and at last they spoke of Schwarzenberg, whom they equally disliked. “When he entered our service,” said the Electoress, “he was poor; now he is rich. Indeed he has a larger private fortune than we. Tell me of any good thing he has done. It is an indelible stain upon him that he has enriched himself while the people have sunk with utter wretchedness through hunger, war, and pestilence. A man who can do such a thing is capable of any meanness or villainy. I believe, my son, that he is in the pay of the Emperor’s party. But God watches over us. They maintain in Vienna that your father is far less sharp-sighted than he really is. The fools! With the good Catholic Schwarzenberg at the head of Protestant Brandenburg no wonder they have high expectations at the court of Vienna. But wisdom and intelligence on the Spree and the Havel are perhaps even stronger than on the Danube. Let them continue to believe that Schwarzenberg will accomplish his purpose; let them keep up their delusion as to this crafty, egotistical, covetous, corruptible man! The Elector, gentle, sick, and heroic in endurance, is wiser, or at least as wise, as any of these gentleman, who think they have him entrapped. It is little matter to him what the Count wishes. Would you leave him in the service of the State if your father to-day should place the cares of government upon your shoulders?”
“God will guide me,” replied the Prince.
“But if it should become necessary, then certainly you would dismiss the Count immediately, as he has discharged Pruckmann and others because they have opposed the Emperor’s politics.”
“No, Mother, out of respect to my father I could not discharge him at once. That would be looked upon by the people as a reproach against my father. But I would not endure him long.”
“My dear son, by these words you show me that you recognize filial duty and that you are ready to perform it. God’s blessing will be upon you for it. When I look into your eyes, my son, something tells me your politics will not be those of your father. In your nature there is a resolute determination which is lacking in your father’s. The times need men of iron. Anvil and hammer! That is the watchword of our time.”
The Elector was announced. Mother and son rose and went to meet him. He had suffered for years in one foot, and for a short time in the other, so that he could not walk and had to be taken about in a roll-chair. Upon the face of the broken-down man one could read the sorrowful history of his twenty years’ rule.
“My son,” began the Elector, “I learn from Schwarzenberg that you have sent back a message of the Berlinese. I understand you, my son, and declare to you now that I would gladly listen to any suggestion from you bearing upon the welfare of the country. It is time, my son, for you to live here, that you may become acquainted with the hard duties of ruling a country. Who knows whether the Almighty may not soon call me hence? I long for the rest, for I am tired, so tired! Come here, my son, and sit by my side, for I would speak with you from the bottom of my heart. And you too, dearest wife, who have shared joys and sorrows with me,—there have not been many joys,—sit at my side and be a witness to the words I shall speak to the future ruler of this country. Give me your hands!
“My son, for more than twenty years the war has raged between Catholics and Protestants, and there is not a country in Europe which has suffered as much as our own possessions, Brandenburg, Prussia, and Cleves. My son, I will look calmly back upon my life and try to speak without prejudice. I have turned my attention from worldly to eternal matters. Why should I seek worldly glory, I, who am so soon to stand before the judgment seat of God? Had I had the heroic character of Gustavus Adolphus, surely, surely things might have been different. But it would have been difficult even for him, whose devoted courage led him to his death, to be a soldier as well as a Brandenburg prince; for the very things necessary to a soldier’s success—a full treasury, and a great, valiant army—would have been lacking.
“Many will say, ‘Why could they not have been secured?’ My son, glance with me at my life and then decide. Difficulties were piled upon difficulties. I could hardly move, there were so many obstacles in my way. (Had it not been for you, dear wife, I should long ago have been only dust and ashes. You were my stay and staff.) Almost everything which happened to our house so weighed down my soul that it was not possible to rise above it. I had to secure your safety and education far away from me. You know what happened to your mother’s brother. Shortly afterwards the Emperor’s ban stripped one of my father’s uncles, Duke Johann George, of his dukedom, and me and my house of all claims upon it. Then another brother of my father, Margrave Christian Wilhelm, administrator of the Archbishopric of Magdeburg, was outlawed and driven from his country and people. My brother, Joachim Sigismund, whom I appointed before Schwarzenberg as Minister of Brandenburg, escaped only by his courage from death by fire, and died at a time when he was most needed. Then my usually excellent mother still further increased my troubles by helping to aggravate the bitterness of the Lutherans against the Reformers. You will agree with me, my son, that such things are not calculated to fill the heart with fresh courage.
“Notwithstanding all this I had no intention of letting things go as they might. I strove to create an army, but the money was not to be had, as I have said. The acquisition of Prussia and the Cleves Rhineland imposed tremendous burdens, and besides this, the country was burdened with a load of debt. In a period of undisturbed peace the country might pay its obligations in twenty or thirty years, but in a time of the greatest exhaustion the greatest sacrifices had to be made. The provinces were so hard to please and so penurious and reluctant to make grants of money, that any chance of energetic action in my time was nipped in the bud. The country continually grew poorer from year to year. Perhaps another, standing in my relations to the provinces at the time when there was possible hope of relief, might have acted more resolutely than I did and have accomplished some results. I can believe it, and yet I could not do otherwise while I, as a follower of the Reformed religion, had almost the entire population against me.
“But suppose the Protestant cause at the very beginning of the war had not induced the Emperor to renounce me? I sometimes ask myself this question, my son, and surely it should often occur to you. Think about it. The war began in Bohemia, then under the rule of my poor cousin Frederick. He belonged to the Reformed Church. What sympathy did we show for him? His overthrow was desired by the Lutherans and by nearly all the people of the country. Not a finger could be raised in his behalf without it being the signal for an uproar.
“Then came our cousin Christian of Denmark with a strong army. My son, I knew him. I will not inveigh against him, far from it. But could I rely upon him? I could not and dared not. ‘If everything prospers,’ I said to myself, ‘our nearest inheritance, the dukedom of Pomerania, will be in danger of being swallowed up by Denmark. If everything goes badly, then Denmark will make a good peace and will be the bitter enemy of its own allies.’ Has not Denmark treated another country in that manner? The Dukes of Mecklenburg could sing you a song about broken faith.
“Next appears Gustavus Adolphus. He was then fighting the Poles. You know about our rights in Prussia. We had obtained it as a fief from Poland. Great was our danger of losing it. When Gustavus Adolphus made peace with the Poles our circumstances were more favorable. But when he came to Germany at the head of an army as the Emperor’s enemy, I hesitated about joining him and had many serious scruples. His army, when he landed on the coast of Pomerania, numbered scarcely fifteen thousand men. I said to myself, ‘If my brother-in-law fails, then he must retreat, and the experiences of his brother-in-law Frederick and the Dukes of Mecklenburg will be repeated. The Emperor will outlaw him and divide up the country among his favorites.’
“At last it became painful to me to see the German Empire invaded by a stranger, and the thought of offering him assistance was intolerable. The victorious advance of the God-fearing and trusting King at last irresistibly appealed to me and all my apprehensions vanished. Urged from within and without, I joined him. Now came the only time in my regent-pilgrimage when I could breathe freely,—but, alas, only for a short time. ‘The Star of the North’ aroused hopes for better times in my breast—even more, belief in them. But the Star was extinguished all too soon on the bloody field of Lützen.”
The Elector paused. His long talk and perhaps the recalling of so much that was sorrowful had greatly overcome him.
“My dearest husband,” said the Electoress, “this is enough of these painful memories for to-day.”
“Just a few words more, true wife, my staff and consolation in times of trouble. You and my son are the only joys I have known, the only joys I shall know in my dying hour.”
Tears glistened in all their eyes. The Electoress stroked his emaciated cheeks with a pale, trembling hand.
With a deep sigh he resumed: “Ah! what a mournful picture my rule from the first to the last year calls up! Death will soon lay his hand upon my heart, and already my grave opens to receive me. And what do I see all about me? The country wasted by the hand of enemy and friend as no other country in Europe has been! A churchyard of mouldering corpses! Oh, horrible sight! And this is the legacy which I must make to my brave and pious son! My God!” He hid his face.
* * * * * * * *
Shortly after this scene the Elector, whose gentle heart was not made for such times of iron and who surely would have been blest by his people in peaceful times, passed away.
In his twentieth year the Electoral Prince Frederick William took the reins of power. His provinces were partly in the hands of the Swedes, who had changed them into a wilderness, in which villages were traced only by their ashes, and cities by rubbish and ruins. The dukedoms of Cleves had been robbed by Spaniards and Dutch, who levied unheard-of tribute and plundered them while pretending to protect them. Prussia, which had previously been invaded by Gustavus Adolphus, still suffered from the wounds which had been inflicted during this war. In such desperate circumstances—his inheritance invaded by many princes; Ruler, without possession of his own provinces; Elector, without the authority of one; Ally, without friends,—Frederick William began his reign; and in his early youth, at the age when errors are most likely to be made, and when men find it difficult to rule even themselves, he furnished an example of extraordinary wisdom and of all those virtues which fit one to rule mankind.
[1]The wife of Frederick the Fifth was the daughter of King James of England.[2]Berlin and Cöln, on either side of the River Spree, were subsequently united into one city.
[1]The wife of Frederick the Fifth was the daughter of King James of England.
[2]Berlin and Cöln, on either side of the River Spree, were subsequently united into one city.
The following is a chronological statement of the principal events in Germany and elsewhere during the youth of the Great Elector:
LIFE STORIES FOR YOUNG PEOPLETranslated from the German byGEORGE P. UPTON24 Volumes Now ReadyHistorical and BiographicalBarbarossaWilliam of OrangeMaria TheresaThe Maid of OrleansFrederick the GreatThe Little DauphinHerman and ThusneldaThe Swiss HeroesMarie Antoinette’s YouthThe Duke of BrittanyLouise, Queen of PrussiaThe Youth of the Great ElectorEmperor William FirstElizabeth, Empress of AustriaMusical BiographyBeethovenMozartJohann Sebastian BachJoseph HaydnLegendaryFrithjof SagaGudrunThe NibelungsWilliam TellArnold of WinkelriedUndineIllustrated. Each 60 centsnetA. C. McCLURG & CO.,Chicago
LIFE STORIES FOR YOUNG PEOPLE
Translated from the German byGEORGE P. UPTON
24 Volumes Now Ready
Historical and Biographical
Musical Biography
Legendary
Illustrated. Each 60 centsnetA. C. McCLURG & CO.,Chicago