“Ay, every inch a king!”—Shakespeare.

THE oldest account of the nations of Europe in the far north is that given by Pytheas, who lived three hundred and fifty years before the Christian Era. His voyages carried him to the shores of Britain and Scandinavia. The Goths were the most ancient inhabitants of Scandinavia, occupying the south, and were earlier in Sweden than the Sueones. These two tribes were at war for many years, but finally united and formed the Swedish nation. During twelve centuries after the visit of Pytheas to northern countries, nothing was known of the Scandinavian people in their own homes, although wild tribes from the north overran southern Europe, and were known as the Cimbri, Teutons, Germans, and Goths. But in the time of Alfred the Great, two travellers from Scandinavia visited the court of the English king. From the account they gave of their travels, King Alfred wrote a brief history and made a chart of modern Europe. In this book Scandinavia was described.

Of the three Scandinavian countries, Sweden did not become known to the nations of southern Europe as soon as Denmark and Norway. Like the Danes, the Swedes traced the descent of their early kings back to Odin. Olaf was the first Christian king of Sweden, and received Christian baptism about the year 1000 A.D.

The son and successor of Charlemagne, Louis le DÉbonnaire, took an ardent interest in sending Christian missionaries to the pagans of the north. The union of the kingdoms of Denmark, Sweden, and Norway was consummated in 1387. In 1523 the union with Denmark was dissolved, and Gustavus Vasa was proclaimed king of Sweden. This king was one of the ablest of the monarchs of the sixteenth century. He was the grandfather of Gustavus Adolphus. Charles IX., the father of Adolphus, came to the throne of Sweden in 1604. During the reigns of the elder brothers of Charles, there had been constant conflicts with Denmark. Charles IX. died in 1611, leaving an unfinished war with Denmark to be completed by his illustrious son, Gustavus Adolphus, then seventeen years of age. His father, Charles, had entered into friendly alliances with all the principal Protestant powers, and for the first time Sweden had been brought into important political relations with the more influential European nations. Gustavus Adolphus was born at the royal palace in Stockholm, Dec. 9, 1594. His mother, Christine, was the daughter of Adolphus, duke of Schleswig-Holstein, and grand-daughter of Frederic I., king of Denmark.

Tycho Brahe, the famous astronomer, had announced, when a comet appeared in 1572, that there would spring up in Finland a prince destined to accomplish great changes in Germany, and deliver the Protestant people from the oppression of the popes. His countrymen applied to Gustavus this prediction of the Danish astronomer. Gustavus possessed a vigorous constitution, which was rendered robust by his childish experiences and manner of life. His early years were passed in the midst of constant wars between Sweden and Denmark. This account is given of the education and boyhood of Gustavus Adolphus:—

“To be the tutor of the prince was appointed Master John Skytte, and Otto von MÖrner his chamberlain. The last named was marshall of the court of Charles IX., and born of noble parents in Brandenburg. He had acquired extensive learning and distinguished manners in the numerous countries in which he had travelled. John Skytte, after having employed nine years in visiting foreign lands, had become one of the secretaries of the king’s government. Gustavus received all the instructions necessary to a prince destined to reign. Skytte directed him in the study of Latin, of history, and of the laws of his country.

“As Charles was a strict ruler and martial prince, and as Christine had, besides her beauty, the soul proud and courageous, the education of the prince was free from softness. He was habituated to labor. At times in his early youth, particularly after he had arrived at his tenth year, he was more and more allowed by his father to attend the deliberations of the Council. He was habituated also to be present at the audiences of the foreign embassies, and was finally directed by his royal father to answer these foreign dignitaries in order thus to accustom him to weighty affairs and their treatment.

“As it was a period of warlike turmoils, there was much resort to the king’s court, especially by officers,—not only Swedes, but also Germans, French, English, Scots, Netherlanders, and some Italians and Spaniards,—who, after the twelve years’ truce then just concluded between Spain and Holland, sought their fortune in Sweden. These often waited upon the young prince by the will and order of the king. Their conversation relating to the wars waged by other nations, battles, sieges, and discipline, both by sea and land as well as ships and navigation, did so arouse and stimulate the mind of the young prince, by nature already thus inclined, that he spent almost every day in putting questions concerning what had happened at one place and another in the wars. Besides, he acquired in his youthful years no little insight into the science of war, especially into the mode and means,—how a regular war, well directed and suited to the circumstances of Sweden, should be carried on, having the character and rules of Maurice, prince of Orange, as a pattern before his eyes. By the intercourse and converse of these officers, in which each told the most glorious acts of his own nation, the young prince was enkindled to act like others, and if possible, to excel them. In his early years he gained also a complete and ready knowledge of many foreign languages; so that he spoke Latin, German, Dutch, French, and Italian as purely as a native, and besides had some knowledge of the Russian and Polish tongues. When he was of the age of sixteen years, his father made him grand duke of Finland, and duke of Esthonia and Westmanland, and presently bestowed upon him the town of Vesteras, with the principal portion of Westmanland, over which was placed John Skytte to be governor.”

It is also stated that Gustavus knew Greek, and read Xenophon in that tongue, of whom he said “that he knew of no writer better than he for a true military historian.”

For some years after Gustavus ascended the throne, he is said to have devoted an hour each day to reading, preferring to all others the works of Grotius, especially his treatise on “War and Peace.”

Young Gustavus possessed great courage, to which was joined striking benignity of character which he did not inherit from his parents. King Charles was stern and somewhat heartless, and he was persuaded by his wife, the mother of Adolphus, to great acts of cruelty towards the victims of his civil wars, which obscured his nobler qualities. The mother of Gustavus, though possessed of a strong and positive character, was too tyrannical to be attractive, and too unrelenting to exert a loving influence in her household, and the severity of both husband and wife came often in collision. Adolphus was the only member of the royal family who dared attempt to pacify his father when he was angry. Though Gustavus inherited the strong characteristics of his parents, and possessed his father’s failing of a quick temper, his nature was so sympathetic and unselfish that his winning manners attracted the hearts of all as much as the unrelenting sternness of his parents repelled. Their sternness became in the household only exacting selfishness; whereas all the severity of his character manifested itself only in unflinching allegiance to the right and true, and the steadfast upholding of high and noble principles of state or religion. Gustavus was scarcely fifteen years of age when he requested to be placed in command of troops in the war against Russia. But his father, deeming him too young, refused. When he was seventeen years of age, war having been declared with Denmark, young Gustavus was pronounced in the Diet—as the assembly of the Swedish nobles was called—fit to bear the sword, and he was, according to ancient custom, invested with this dignity with most splendid ceremony.

In this expedition young Gustavus endured his first trial of warfare, being present at all the remarkable encounters, holding chief command in most of them. For during this war King Charles died, and the command was left to Gustavus, then seventeen years of age. In the first month of his eighteenth year, he received the crown in the presence of all the representatives of the estates of Sweden, at the Diet of NykÖping. He took the title of his father,—king-elect and hereditary prince of Sweden, of the Goths, and of the Wends. Since the death of Gustavus Vasa, his grandfather, a period of more than fifty years, Sweden had not enjoyed a single year of peace.

When Gustavus Adolphus ascended the Swedish throne, in 1611, being then in his eighteenth year, he found an exhausted treasury, an alienated nobility, and not undisputed succession, and, with all this, no less than three wars upon his hands,—one with Denmark then raging,—also the seeds of two other wars, with Russia and with Poland, which soon after burst forth. The first fifteen years of his reign were occupied in bringing these wars to a conclusion; and in these struggles he won an experience which afterwards proved of great service in making him illustrious upon a more conspicuous battle-field. We have not space to describe at length the wars between Sweden and Denmark, nor her conflicts with Russia and Poland, but must pass on to the more important period of the history of Gustavus Adolphus, which gives him a place in the foremost ranks of leadership, and places his name with Napoleon I., Alexander the Great, Julius CÆsar, and Charlemagne. It was not so much what he himself personally accomplished,—though that was much, for death met him long before the glorious end was reached,—but it was on account of the vast and momentous train of circumstances he set in motion, because he stood forth, the only man capable of taking the helm of the great ship of the Reformation, which, but for him, aided by the almighty ruling of an Omniscient Providence, seemed to the finite vision of mankind doomed to destruction. It was not as a conqueror of vast empires, like Alexander, Julius CÆsar, and Napoleon, that Gustavus Adolphus is illustrious; but it is because, through the providence of God, he was made the instrument in helping to achieve the more important conquest of gaining spiritual liberty of soul from the bondage of bigotry and superstition. As the champion of the Reformation, the name of Gustavus Adolphus must be placed amongst the foremost of the famous rulers of the world.

Gustavus was now thirty-four years of age. He had prosecuted wars with Denmark, Russia, and Poland, and secured advantageous terms of peace with these nations. Before he had reached his twentieth year, he had driven back the invaders of his country, and gained independence for Sweden. In four years more, his victories over his eastern enemies enabled him to declare, “Russia cannot now, without our consent, launch a single boat on the Baltic.”

For twelve years Gustavus had watched the bloody strife between the defenders of the Reformed Faith in Germany and the powers of the Catholic league of the Empire and of Spain. What Philip II. of Spain was to the Catholics as a leader and upholder of the infamous Inquisition, such a power did Gustavus Adolphus become, in behalf of the Protestants, as a leader and defender of the Reformation. Holland, England, and France had earnestly pressed him to conclude the Polish wars; for the eyes of the suffering adherents of the Reformed Faith in Germany were turned in hope toward the youthful king of Sweden as their deliverer. In setting out upon this distant enterprise, Gustavus Adolphus encountered the gravest obstacles, which he himself did not fail to realize; for when his resolution was fully formed, and the consent of his Estates obtained, he exclaimed, “For me there remains henceforth no more rest but the eternal.”

Though he left Sweden full of hope and courage, it was with the sure presentiment that he would never return. Gustavus had married Marie Eleonore, daughter of the elector of Brandenburg; and at the time of his German expedition left a little daughter behind him, only four years of age, who was sole heir to the Swedish throne. Gustavus Adolphus was one of the most skilful commanders of his age. Napoleon I. was wont to set him among the eight greatest generals whom the world has ever seen, placing him in the same rank with Alexander the Great, Hannibal, Julius CÆsar, in the ancient world, with Turenne, Prince Eugene, Frederic the Great, and himself, in the modern.

Before his time, the only artillery brought into the open field consisted of huge, heavy guns, slowly dragged along by twelve, sixteen, or twenty horses or oxen, which, once placed, could only remain in one position, even though the entire battle had shifted elsewhere. Gustavus was the first who introduced flying artillery, capable of being rapidly transferred from one part of the field to another. At a siege, this valiant Swedish king would in the same day “be at once generalissimo, chief engineer to lay out the lines, pioneer, spade in hand and in his shirt digging in the trenches, and leader of a storming party to dislodge the foe from some annoying outwork. If a party of the enemy’s cavalry were to be surprised in a night attack, he would himself undertake the surprise. He, indeed, carried this quite too far, obeying overmuch the instinct and impulses of his own courageous heart. And yet there was also a true humility in it all,—a feeling that no man ought to look at himself as indispensable. ‘God is immortal,’ he was wont to reply, when remonstrated with on this matter, and reminded of the fearful chasm, not to be filled by any other, which his death would assuredly leave.” Richelieu said of him, “The king of Sweden is a new sun which has just risen, young, but of vast renown. The ill-treated or banished princes of Germany in their misfortunes have turned their eyes towards him as the mariner does to the polar star.”

Gustavus was admitted by the ablest statesmen of Europe to be the ablest general of his time. He was familiar with the military tactics of ancient and modern times, and he devised a more effective system of warfare than his predecessors had known. In answer to the question, Why did Gustavus Adolphus enter into the religious contests of Germany, and assume the commanding place he filled in that terrible struggle known as the “Thirty Years’ War”? an able writer gives thus briefly the reason:—

“First, a deep and genuine sympathy with his co-religionists in Germany, and with their sufferings, joined to a conviction that he was called of God to assist them in this hour of their utmost need.

“Secondly, a sense of the most real danger which threatened his own kingdom, if the entire liberties, political and religious, of northern Germany were trodden out, and the free cities of the German Ocean, Stralsund and the rest, falling into the hands of the emperor, became hostile outposts from which to assail him. He felt that he was only going to meet a war which, if he tarried at home, would sooner or later inevitably come to seek him there.

“And, lastly, there was working in his mind, no doubt, a desire to give to Sweden a more forward place in the world, with a consciousness of mighty powers in himself, which craved a wider sphere for their exercise.”

In answer to John Skytte, who remarked that war put his monarchy at stake, he responded: “All monarchies have passed from one family to another. That which constitutes a monarchy is not men, it is the law.”

At length, in 1630, Gustavus landed on the island of Usedom, at the mouth of the Oder.

“So we have got another kingling on our hands,” the emperor exclaimed in scorn, when the news reached Vienna. Little did the enemies of the Reformation then imagine what a terrible and irresistible foe this despised “kingling” would prove to be. The army of Gustavus consisted of only fifteen thousand men; but, if his army was small, the material was indeed valuable. Gustavus said of his staff of officers, “All these are captains, and fit to command armies.” And when his early death left them without a leader, these same officers led the Swedish armies so successfully that, even after France had become her ally, Sweden was not obscured, but still held a prominent place in the mighty contest. Gustavus had determined not to hazard a battle until he was joined by German allies. As soon as they landed on the island of Usedom, Gustavus, having leaped first upon the shore, at once fell upon his knees, and sought the aid and blessing of God; and then the working and the praying went hand in hand. He was the first to seize a spade; and, as the troops landed, one half were employed in raising intrenchments, while the other half stood in battle array, to repel any attacks of the enemy. It was a long time before any German ally appeared; for, though gallant little Hesse Cassel boldly announced its allegiance, it was a power too small and too distant to count for much. The two most powerful of the German Protestant princes were his brother-in-law, the elector of Brandenburg, and the elector of Saxony. John George of Saxony was a great hunter, having killed with his own hand or seen killed 113,629 wild animals. He was, however, such a great drunkard that he was called the Beer King. But this bold Nimrod, who could fight wild animals so courageously, was too cowardly to come forward against the enemies of his country, and only joined Gustavus when the terrors of the Catholic league forced him to seek safety in such an alliance.

As to the brother-in-law of Gustavus, little was to be obtained from him. He was so vacillating in character and in politics that Carlyle says of him, “Poor man, it was his fate to stand in the range of these huge collisions, when the Titans were hurling rocks at one another, and he hoped by dexterous skipping to escape share of the game.”

The arrival of Gustavus Adolphus in Germany was at first looked upon with indifference by the imperial court. The emperor Ferdinand said carelessly, “We have another little enemy before us.” At Vienna they made sport of Gustavus and of his pretensions to require himself to be called “Your majesty,” like the other kings of Europe. “The snow-king will melt as he approaches the southern sun,” they exclaimed derisively. But the valiant Swedes worked on at their fortifications at Pomerania, indifferent to the sneers of their foes, inspired by the example of their loved leader, whose watchword was, “to pray often to God with all your heart is almost to conquer.” In a short time, the army was enclosed in an intrenched camp, defended by cannon. The king of Sweden then addressed these stirring words to his soldiers:—

“It is as much on your account as for your religious brethren in Germany that I have undertaken this war. You will there gather imperishable glory. You have nothing to fear from the enemy; they are the same whom you have already conquered in Prussia. Your bravery has imposed on Poland an armistice of six years; if you continue to fight as valiantly, I hope to obtain an honorable peace for your country and guaranties of security for the German Protestants. Old soldiers, it is not of yesterday you have known war; for you have shared with me all the chances of fortune. You must not lose courage if you experience some wants. I will conduct you to an enemy who has enriched himself at the expense of that unhappy country. It is only with the enemy you can find money, abundance, and all which you desire.”

Thus did Gustavus appeal to their courage, their patriotism, their religious enthusiasm, and their personal necessities, and inspire his soldiers with irresistible valor.

The severe discipline of the Swedish troops excited not less admiration than the personal virtue of their king. Richelieu, in his memoirs, says, “As to the king of Sweden personally, there was seen in his actions but an inexorable severity towards the least excess of his soldiers, an extraordinary mildness towards the people, and an exact justice on all occasions.”

It was at the time of the landing of the Swedes that the noted general Wallenstein had fallen into disgrace with the German emperor, and had been discharged from the imperial service. His place was filled by Tilly, a military chieftain of high renown. Tilly had made himself the terror of the Protestants by his bigoted zeal for the Catholic religion and his fierce spirit of persecution towards the Reformed Faith; but his military insight made him just enough to thus generously describe his famous antagonist:—

“The king of Sweden is an enemy both prudent and brave, inured to war, and in the flower of his age. His plans are excellent, his resources considerable, his subjects enthusiastically attached to him. His army,—composed of Swedes, Germans, Livonians, Finlanders, Scots, and English,—by its devoted obedience to their leader, is blended into one nation. He is a gamester, in playing with whom not to have lost is to have won a great deal.”

Gustavus was beginning to make a strong position in northern Germany, when he received an envoy from the elector of Brandenburg, urging him to consent to an armistice, the elector offering himself as a mediator between the Swedish king and the Catholic league. Gustavus thus answered this weak and cowardly advice of the elector:—

“I have listened to the arguments by which my lord and brother-in-law would seek to dissuade me from the war, but could well have expected another communication from him; namely, that God having helped me thus far, and come, as I am, into this land for no other end than to deliver its poor and oppressed estates and people from the horrible tyranny of the thieves and robbers who have plagued it so long, above all, to free his highness from like tribulation, he would rather have joined himself with me, and thus not failed to seize the opportunity which God has wonderfully vouchsafed him. Or does not his highness yet know that the intention of the emperor and of the league is this,—not to cease till the evangelical religion is quite rooted out of the empire, and that he himself has nothing else to look forward to than to be compelled either to deny his faith or to forsake his land? For God’s sake, let him bethink himself a little, and for once grasp manly counsels. For myself, I cannot go back.... I seek in this work not mine own things, no profit at all except the safety of my kingdom; else have I nothing from it but expense, weariness, toil, and danger of life and limb.... For this, I say plainly beforehand, I will hear and know nothing of neutrality; his highness must be friend or foe. When I come to his borders, he must declare himself hot or cold. The battle is one between God and the devil. Will his highness hold with God, let him stand on my side; if he prefer to hold with the devil, then he must fight with me.”

The elector of Brandenburg still vacillating, the king of Sweden was as good as his word, and advanced with his army, with loaded cannon and matches burning, to the gates of Berlin. Whereupon, the treaty of alliance was quickly signed by the elector of Brandenburg; and not long after, the outrages of the imperial commander obliged the elector of Saxony also to join the Swedish king. During the first year in Germany, the Swedes had captured Greiffenhagen and Gartz; and soon after New Brandenburg, Loitz, Malchin, and Demmin were in their power. We have no space to note the particulars regarding these important conquests, and can only mention the taking of Demmin. The Imperialists had placed the garrison here under the command of Duke Savelli, who had been ordered to defend the place three weeks, when Tilly had promised to come to his aid. Among the Imperialists was Del Ponte, a man who had been deep in a conspiracy to assassinate the king of Sweden, which had come near being successful. As Del Ponte feared the vengeance of the king whose life he had thus sought, he left the fortress secretly, leaving his baggage and wealth behind him. Savelli offered to capitulate, on condition that he might pass out with arms and baggage. As Gustavus was now on the eve of meeting Tilly, he did not think best to prolong the siege, and so agreed to the proposal of Savelli. The entire garrison passed out with ensigns flying, followed by the baggage train. As Savelli, brilliantly and carefully dressed, passed the Swedish king, Gustavus addressed him: “Tell the emperor I make war for civil and religious liberty. As to you, duke, I thank you for having taken the trouble to quit the splendid feasts of Rome to combat against me, for your person seems to me more in its place at courts than in the camps.” After the Italian general passed, Gustavus remarked to his officers, “That man reckons much on the good nature of the emperor; if he was in my service, he would lose his head for his cowardice.”

As the baggage of the treacherous Del Ponte was noticed in the train, some of the Swedish officers suggested that it would be well to retain what belonged to that traitor, to which Gustavus responded, “I have given my word, and no one shall have the right to reproach me for having broken it.” As to the energy and bravery of Gustavus, one of his Scotch officers thus testifies: “I serve with great pleasure such a general, and I could find with difficulty a similar man who was accustomed to be the first and the last where there is danger; who gained the love of his officers by the part he took in their troubles and fatigues; who knew so well how to trace the rules of conduct for his warriors according to times and circumstances; who cared for their health, their honor; who was always ready to aid them; who divined the projects and knew the resources of his enemies, their plans, their forces, their discipline, likewise the nature and position of the places they occupied. He never hesitated to execute what he had ordered. He arrested an officer who, while the fortifications of Settin were being repaired, stated that the earth was frozen. In affairs which had relation to the needs of the war, he did not admit of excuses. The lack of good charts and the great importance he attached to knowledge of the ground, caused him to go en reconnaissance in person, and expose himself very near to danger, for he was short-sighted.”

At the siege of Demmin he had gone to reconnoitre, and held a spy-glass in hand, when he plunged half-leg deep in the marsh, in consequence of the breaking of the ice. The officer nearest to him prepared to come to his aid. Gustavus made a sign to him to remain tranquil, so as not to draw the attention of the enemy who, not less, directed his fire upon him. The king raised himself up in the midst of a shower of projectiles, and went to dry himself at the bivouac fire of the officer, who reproached him for having thus exposed his precious life. The king listened to the officer with kindness and acknowledged his imprudence, but added, “It is my nature not to believe well done except what I do myself; it is also necessary that I see everything by my own eyes.” Gustavus now advanced boldly into the heart of Germany, and met the forces of the Catholic League on the plains of Leipsic. As the Swedes drew up in line of battle, Gustavus rode from point to point, encouraging his soldiers, telling them “not to fire until they saw the white of the enemies’ eyes.”

Then the Swedish king rode to the centre of his line, halted, removed his cap with one hand and lowered his sword with the other. His example was followed by all near him. Gustavus then offered this brief prayer in a powerful voice, which enabled him to be heard by a large number of his army:—

“Good God, thou who holdest in thy hand victory and defeat, turn thy merciful face to us thy servants. We have come far, we have left our peaceful homes to combat in this country for liberty, for the truth, and for thy gospel. Glorify thy holy name in granting us victory.”

Then the Swedish king sent a trumpeter to challenge Tilly and his army. The battle ensued, in which Gustavus defeated Tilly, the victor on more than twenty battle-fields. The king of Sweden so shattered and scattered the Catholic army in this conflict, that for a while all Germany was open to him. Gustavus was now everywhere hailed by the down-trodden Protestants of Germany, whose worship he re-established, and whose churches he restored to them, as their saviour and deliverer. The very excess of their gratitude would sometimes make him afraid. Only three days before his death he said to his chaplain, “They make a god of me; God will punish me for this.”

The appearance of Gustavus at this time is thus described: “He was one ‘framed in the prodigality of nature.’ His look proclaimed the hero, and at the same time, the genuine child of the North. A head taller than men of the ordinary stature, yet all his limbs were perfectly proportioned.” Majesty and courage shone out from his clear gray eyes; while, at the same time, an air of mildness and bonhommie tempered the earnestness of his glance. He had the curved eagle nose of CÆsar, of Napoleon, of Wellington, of Napier,—the conqueror’s nose as we may call it. His skin was fair, his hair blonde, almost gold-colored, so that the Italians were wont to call him, Re d’oro or the Gold-king. In latter years he was somewhat inclined to corpulence, though not so much as to detract from the majesty of his appearance. This made it, however, not easy to find a horse which was equal to his weight.

Gustavus now carried his victorious arms to the banks of the Rhine, where there still stands, not far from Mayence, what is known as the Swedish column. On the banks of the Lech he again met Tilly, who would have barred the way. Some of the officers in the Swedish army counselled that the king should not meet Tilly, but should march to Bohemia.

The Lech was deep and rapid, and to cross it in the face of an enemy was very hazardous. In case of failure the entire Swedish army would be lost. But Gustavus exclaimed, “What! have we crossed the Baltic, the Oder, the Elbe, and the Rhine, to stop stupefied before this mere stream, the Lech? Remember that the undertakings the most difficult are often those which succeed best, because the adverse party regard them as impossible.”

Gustavus threw over the Lech a bridge under the crossfire of seventy-two pieces of cannon. The king stimulated his troops by his own example, making with his own hand more than sixty cannon discharges. The enemy did their utmost to destroy the works, and Tilly was undaunted in his exertions to encourage his men, until he was mortally wounded by a cannon-ball, and victory soon was on the side of the heroic Swedes.

This crossing of the Lech in the face of an enemy is esteemed the most signal military exploit of Gustavus. The emperor was now forced to recall Wallenstein to lead the hard-pressed Imperialists against this invincible Swedish king.

But with the battle of LÜtzen, where the Swedes encountered the Imperialists under Wallenstein, we come also to the lamentable but heroic death of Gustavus Adolphus. We cannot recount the further conflicts of the Thirty Years’ War.

The work of Gustavus Adolphus in Germany was continued by his able generals and allies, until at length the treaty, concluded at Westphalia in 1648, gave security and permanence to the work which the king of Sweden and his brave soldiers had in a large degree achieved before his death. A wound which Gustavus had received in his Polish wars, made the wearing of armor very painful to him, and upon the morning of the day upon which the battle of LÜtzen was fought, when his armor was brought to him, he declined to put it on, saying, “God is my armor.”

His death is thus described. Learning that the centre of the Swedish lines were wavering, Gustavus hastened thither. “Arriving at the wavering centre, he cried to his troops, ‘Follow me, my brave boys!’ and his horse at a bound bore him across the ditch. Only a few of his cavaliers followed him, their steeds not being equal to his. Owing to his impetuosity, perhaps also to his nearsightedness and the increasing fog, he did not perceive to what extent he was in advance, and became separated from the troops he was so bravely leading. An imperial corporal, noticing that the Swedes made way for an advancing cavalier, pointed him out to a musketeer, saying, he must be a personage of high rank, and urged him to fire on him. The musketeer took aim, his ball broke the left arm of the king, causing the bone to protrude, and the blood to run freely. ‘The king bleeds!’ cried the Swedes near him. ‘It is nothing; march forward my boys!’ responded the wounded hero, seeking to calm their disquietude by assuming a smiling countenance. But soon overcome by pain and loss of blood, he requested Duke Lauenburg, in French, to lead him out of the tumult without being observed, which was sought to be done by making a dÉtour, so as to conceal the king’s withdrawal from his brave Smolanders he was leading to the charge. Scarcely had they made a few steps, when one of the imperial regiment of cuirassiers encountered them, preceded by Lieut.-Col. Falkenberg, who, recognizing the king, fired a pistol shot, hitting him in the back. ‘Brother,’ said he to Lauenburg, with a dying voice; ‘I have enough. Look to your own life.’ Falkenberg was immediately slain by the equerry of the duke of Lauenburg. At the same moment the king fell from his horse, struck by several more balls, and was dragged some distance by the stirrups. The duke of Lauenburg fled. Of the king’s two orderlies, one lay dead and the other wounded. Of his attendants, only a German page, named Leubelfing, remained by him. The king having fallen from his horse, the page jumped from his own, and offered it to the dying hero. The king stretched out his hands, but the young man had not strength sufficient to lift him from the ground. Meanwhile the imperial cuirassiers hastened forward, and demanded the name of the wounded officer. The loyal page would not reveal it, and received wounds from which he died soon after. But the dying Gustavus bravely answered, ‘I am the king of Sweden.’ Whereupon his cruel enemies shot a ball through his head, and thrust their swords through his bleeding body. His hat, blackened with the powder and pierced with the ball, is still to be seen in the arsenal at Vienna; his bloody buff coat as well. More is not known of the final agony, except that, when the tide of battle had a little ebbed, the body of the hero-king was found with the face to the ground, despoiled and stripped to the shirt, trodden under the hoofs of horses, trampled in the mire, and disfigured with all these wounds.”

Such was the end of the imposing and kingly bodily presence; but this was not the end of the accomplishment of that heroic soul. When the horse of the fallen Gustavus, with its empty saddle covered with blood, came running amongst the Swedish troops, they knew what had happened to their king. Duke Bernhard, riding through the ranks, exclaimed, “Swedes, Finlanders, and Germans! your defender, the defender of our liberty, is dead. Life is nothing to me if I do not draw bloody vengeance from this misfortune. Whoever wishes to prove he loved the king, has only to follow me to avenge his death.” The whole Swedish army, fired by a common enthusiasm nerved by desperation, advanced to the attack, and so valiantly did they fight, that their gallant charge completed the victory of LÜtzen. Thus died the “Gold-king of the North”; but his dying hours were gilded by the sunset glories of immortal fame, and the “Snow-king,” of Sweden, leaves a name as pure and glistening as the starry snow-flakes.

“Great men, far more than any Alps or coliseums, are the true world-wonders, which it concerns us to behold clearly, and imprint forever on our remembrance. Great men are the fire-pillars in this dark pilgrimage of mankind; they stand as heavenly signs, ever-living witnesses of what has been,—prophetic witnesses of what may still be; the revealed embodied possibilities of human nature, which greatness he who has never with his whole heart passionately loved and reverenced, is himself forever doomed to be little.”