Chapter XXXIV: Section V: The Fall of Magdeburg

[Sidenote: § 1. Hesitation of the Elector of Saxony.]

Further successes marked the early months of 1631. But till the two Protestant Electors could make up their minds to throw in their lot with Gustavus, nothing serious could be effected. John George felt that something ought to be done. All over North Germany the Protestants were appealing to him to place himself at their head. To say that he was vacillating and irresolute, born to watch events rather than to control them, is only to say that he had not changed his nature. But it must never be forgotten that the decision before him was a very hard one. In no sense could it be regarded otherwise than as a choice between two evils. On the one side lay the preponderance of a hostile religion. On the other side lay the abandonment of all hope of German unity, a unity which was nothing to Gustavus, but which a German Elector could not venture to disregard. It might be, indeed, that a new and better system would arise on the ruins of the old. But if Saxony were victorious with the aid of Sweden, the destruction of the existing order was certain, the establishment of a new one was problematical.

[Sidenote: § 2. The Assembly at Leipzig.]

A great Protestant assembly held at Leipzig in March, determined to make one more appeal to the Emperor. If only he would withdraw that fatal Edict of Restitution, the Protestants of the north would willingly take their places as obedient estates of the Empire. No foreign king should win them from their allegiance, or induce them to break asunder the last ties which bound them together to their head. But this time the appeal was accompanied by a step in the direction of active resistance. The Protestant estates represented at Leipzig agreed to levy soldiers, in order to be prepared for whatever might happen.

[Sidenote: § 3. Tilly in the north.]

Time was pressing. The Treaty of Bärwalde had opened the eyes of Maximilian and the League to the danger of procrastination. If they had entertained any hope that France would leave them to contend with Gustavus alone, that hope was now at an end. Tilly was despatched into the north to combat the Swedish king.

[Sidenote: § 4. Tilly's advance and retreat.]

Ferdinand had despised the danger from Gustavus. "We have got a new little enemy," he said, laughing, when he heard of the disembarkation of the Swedes. Tilly knew better. He pressed rapidly forward, hoping to thrust himself between Gustavus in Pomerania and his lieutenant, Horn, in Mecklenburg. If he succeeded, the invading army would be cut in two, and liable to be defeated in detail. Success at first attended his effort. On March 29, whilst the princes were debating at Leipzig, he took New Brandenburg, cutting down the whole Swedish garrison of 2,000 men. But Gustavus was too rapid for him. Uniting his forces with those of Horn, he presented a bold front to the enemy. Tilly was driven back upon the Elbe. The remaining fortresses on the Baltic, and the important post of Frankfort on the Oder, garrisoned with eight imperialist regiments, fell into the power of the conqueror.

[Sidenote: § 5. Magdeburg.]

A greater and more important city than Frankfort was at stake. The citizens of Magdeburg had raised the standard of independence without waiting for leave from John George of Saxony. Gustavus had sent a Swedish officer to conduct their defence. But without the support of the Electors of Saxony and Brandenburg, he durst not bring his army to their assistance.

[Sidenote: § 6. Treaty of Cherasco.]

The imperialists were gathering thickly round Magdeburg. On April 26 a treaty was signed at Cherasco, between France and the Empire, which restored peace in Italy, and set free the Emperor's troops beyond the Alps for service in Germany. If Tilly saw matters still in a gloomy light, his fiery lieutenant, Pappenheim, thought there was no reason to despair. "This summer," he wrote, "we can sweep our enemies before us. God give us grace thereto."

[Sidenote: § 7. Convention with the Elector of Brandenburg.]

As the siege went on, Gustavus, writing under his enforced inaction, pleaded hard with the two Electors. From the Elector of Brandenburg he demanded the right to occupy the two fortresses of Küstrin and Spandau. Hopes were held out to him of the surrender of Küstrin, but he was assured that Spandau should never be his. Accompanied by a picked body of troops, he marched straight upon Berlin. On May 13, outside the city gates, he held a long conference with his brother-in-law, the Elector. He argued in vain. To one of the Dukes of Mecklenburg, who had accompanied him, he spoke in bitter words. "I am marching," he said, "upon Magdeburg, to deliver the city. If no one will assist me, I will retreat at once. I will offer peace to the Emperor, and go home to Stockholm. I know that the Emperor will agree to my terms. But you Protestants will have to answer at the day of judgment that you would do nothing for the cause of God. In this world, too, you will be punished. Magdeburg will be taken, and, if I retire, you will have to look to yourselves." The next day the conference was resumed. From early morning till nine at night the Elector persisted in his refusal. But the armed men who stood behind Gustavus were the most powerful of arguments. At last the Swedish king had his way. On the 15th the gates of Spandau were thrown open to his troops.

[Sidenote: § 8. Resistance of the Elector of Saxony.]

But, if the Elector of Brandenburg had given way, the Elector of Saxony was not to be moved. He had not yet received an answer to his appeal to the Emperor; and till that arrived he would enter into no alliance with a foreigner. Further advance was impossible. Cut to the heart by the refusal, Gustavus withdrew, leaving Magdeburg to its fate.

[Sidenote: § 9. Storming of Magdeburg.]

That fate was not long in coming. The city was hardly in a state to make a desperate resistance. The council had levied men to fight their battle. But amongst the body of the townsmen there were some who counselled submission, and others who preferred taking their ease whilst the hired soldiers were manning the walls. On May 20, Pappenheim stormed the city. In those days the sack of a town taken by storm was claimed as a right by the soldiers, as firmly by those of Gustavus as by those of Tilly and Wallenstein. But a few weeks before, the Protestant population of Frankfort had been exposed to the violence and greed of the Swedish army, simply because they had been unable to prevent the imperialists from defending the place. But the sack of Magdeburg was accompanied by circumstances of peculiar horror. Scarcely had the first rush taken place over the walls when, either intentionally or by accident, some of the houses were set on fire. In the excitement of plunder or of terror no one thought of stopping the progress of the flames. The conquerors, angered by the thought that their booty was being snatched away from before their eyes by an enemy more irresistible than themselves, were inflamed almost to madness. Few could meet that infuriated soldiery and live. Whilst every form of death, and of outrage worse than death, was encountered in the streets, the shrieks of the wretched victims were overpowered by the roaring of the flames. In a few hours the great city, the virgin fortress which had resisted Charles V. and Wallenstein, with the exception of the Cathedral and a few houses around it, was reduced to a blackened ruin, beneath which lay the calcined bones of men, of tender women, and of innocent babes.

[Sidenote: § 10. Tilly's part in the matter.]

For the horrors of that day Tilly was not personally responsible. He would have hindered the storm if he had been able. The tales which carried through all Protestant Germany the evil deeds of the old warrior, and represented him as hounding on his men to the wretched work, were pure inventions. He had nothing to gain by the destruction of Magdeburg. He had everything to gain by saving it as a basis of operations for his army.

[Sidenote: § 11. False policy which led to the disaster.]

But if Tilly was not responsible for the consequences of the siege, he and his masters were responsible for the policy which had made the siege possible. That cathedral standing out from amidst the ruins of Magdeburg was but too apt a symbol of the work which he and the League had set themselves to do. That the rights of the clergy and the church might be maintained, all the homes and dwellings of men in Germany were to be laid waste, all the social and political arrangements to which they had attached themselves were to be dashed into ruin.

[Sidenote: § 12. Ferdinand refuses to cancel the Edict of Restitution.]

Even now Ferdinand was preparing his answer to the last appeal of the faithful Protestant estates. The Edict of Restitution he would maintain to the uttermost. Of the armament of the princes he spoke in terms of contemptuous arrogance. Let John George and his companions in ill-doing dismiss their soldiers, and not presume to dictate terms by force to the head of the Empire. Ferdinand had declared the law as it was, and by the law he meant to abide.