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Memoirs of a Cavalier

by Daniel Defoe · English · Gutenberg #12259 · 607,576 chars · public domain (US)

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Title: Memoirs of a Cavalier

Author: Daniel Defoe


        
Release date: May 1, 2004 [eBook #12259]
                Most recently updated: October 28, 2024

Language: English

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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MEMOIRS OF A CAVALIER ***

MEMOIRS OF A CAVALIER

or

A Military Journal of the Wars in Germany, and the Wars in England.
From the Year 1632 to the Year 1648.

By Daniel Defoe

Edited with Introduction and Notes by Elizabeth O'Neill

1922




INTRODUCTION.


Daniel Defoe is, perhaps, best known to us as the author of _Robinson
Crusoe_, a book which has been the delight of generations of boys and
girls ever since the beginning of the eighteenth century. For it was
then that Defoe lived and wrote, being one of the new school of prose
writers which grew up at that time and which gave England new forms
of literature almost unknown to an earlier age. Defoe was a vigorous
pamphleteer, writing first on the Whig side and later for the Tories
in the reigns of William III and Anne. He did much to foster the
growth of the newspaper, a form of literature which henceforth became
popular. He also did much towards the development of the modern novel,
though he did not write novels in our sense of the word. His books
were more simple than is the modern novel. What he really wrote were
long stories told, as is _Robinson Crusoe_, in the first person and
with so much detail that it is hard to believe that they are works of
imagination and not true stories. "The little art he is truly master
of, is of forging a story and imposing it upon the world as truth." So
wrote one of his contemporaries. Charles Lamb, in criticizing Defoe,
notices this minuteness of detail and remarks that he is, therefore,
an author suited only for "servants" (meaning that this method can
appeal only to comparatively uneducated minds). Really as every boy
and girl knows, a good story ought to have this quality of seeming
true, and the fact that Defoe can so deceive us makes his work the
more excellent reading.

The _Memoirs of a Cavalier_ resembles _Robinson Crusoe_ in so far as
it is a tale told by a man of his own experiences and adventures. It
has just the same air of truth and for a long time after its first
publication in 1720 people were divided in opinion as to whether it
was a book of real memoirs or not. A critical examination has shown
that it is Defoe's own work and not, as he declares, the contents of
a manuscript which he found "by great accident, among other valuable
papers" belonging to one of King William's secretaries of state.
Although his gifts of imagination enabled him to throw himself into
the position of the Cavalier he lapses occasionally into his own
characteristic prose and the style is often that of the eighteenth
rather than the seventeenth century, more eloquent than quaint. Again,
he is not careful to hide inconsistencies between his preface and the
text. Thus, he says in his preface that he discovered the manuscript
in 1651; yet we find in the _Memoirs_ a reference to the Restoration,
which shows that it must have been written after 1660 at least. There
is abundant proof that the book is really a work of fiction and that
the Cavalier is an imaginary character; but, in one sense, it is a
true history, inasmuch as the author has studied the events and spirit
of the time in which his scene is laid and, though he makes many
mistakes of detail, he gives us a very true picture of one of the most
interesting periods in English and European history. The _Memoirs_
thus represent the English historical novel in its beginnings, a much
simpler thing than it was to become in the hands of Scott and later
writers.

The period in which the scene is laid is that of the English Civil
War, in which the Cavalier fought on the side of King Charles I
against the Puritans. But his adventures in this war belong to the
second part of the book. In the first part, he tells of his birth and
parentage, the foreign travel which was the fashionable completion
of the education of a gentleman in the seventeenth century, and his
adventures as a volunteer officer in the Swedish army, where he gained
the experience which was to serve him well in the Civil War at home.
Many a real Cavalier must have had just such a career as Defoe's hero
describes as his own. After a short time at Oxford, "long enough for
a gentleman," he embarked on a period of travel, going to Italy by
way of France. The Cavalier, however, devotes but little space to
description, vivid enough as far as it goes, of his adventures in
these two counties for a space of over two years. Italy, especially,
attracted the attention of gentlemen and scholars in those days,
but the Cavalier was more bent on soldiering than sightseeing and he
hurries on to tell of his adventures in Germany, where he first really
took part in warfare, becoming a volunteer officer in the army of
Gustavus Adolphus, the hero King of Sweden, and where he met with
those adventures the story of which forms the bulk of the first part
of the _Memoirs_.

To appreciate the tale, it will be necessary to have a clear idea
of the state of affairs in Europe at the time. The war which was
convulsing Germany, and in which almost every other European power
interfered at some time, was the Thirty Years' War (1618--1648), a
struggle having a special character of its own as the last of the
religious wars which had torn Europe asunder for a century and the
first of a long series of wars in which the new and purely political
principle of the Balance of Power can be seen at work. The struggle
was, nominally, between Protestant and Catholic Germany for, during
the Reformation period, Germany, which consisted of numerous states
under the headship of the Emperor, had split into two great camps. The
Northern states had become Protestant under their Protestant princes.
The Southern states had remained, for the most part, Catholic or had
been won back to Catholicism in the religious reaction known as the
Counter-Reformation. As the Catholic movement spread, under a Catholic
Emperor like Ferdinand of Styria, who was elected in 1619, it was
inevitable that the privileges granted to Protestants should be
curtailed. They determined to resist and, as the Emperor had the
support of Spain, the Protestant Union found it necessary to call in
help from outside. Thus it was that the other European powers came to
interfere in German affairs. Some helped the Protestants from motives
of religion, more still from considerations of policy, and the long
struggle of thirty years may be divided into marked periods in which
one power after another, Denmark, Sweden, France, allied themselves
with the Protestants against the Emperor. The _Memoirs_ are
concerned with the first two years of the Swedish period of the war
(1630--1634), during which Gustavus Adolphus almost won victory
for the Protestants who were, however, to lose the advantage of his
brilliant generalship through his death at the battle of Lützen in
1632. Through the death of "this conquering king," the Swedes lost the
fruits of their victory and the battle of Lützen marks the end of what
may be termed the heroic period of the war. Gustavus Adolphus stands
out among the men of his day for the loftiness of his character as
well as for the genius of his generalship. It is, therefore, fitting
enough that Defoe should make his Cavalier withdraw from the Swedish
service after the death of the "glorious king" whom he "could never
mention without some remark of his extraordinary merit." For two years
longer, he wanders through Germany still watching the course of the
war and then returns to England, soon to take part in another war at
home, namely the Civil War, in which the English people were divided
into two great parties according as they supported King Charles I or
the members of the Long Parliament who opposed him. According to the
_Memoirs_, the Cavalier "went into arms" without troubling himself "to
examine sides." Defoe probably considered this attitude as typical
of many of the Cavalier party, and, of course, loyalty to the king's
person was one of their strongest motives. The Cavalier does not enter
largely into the causes of the war. What he gives us is a picture of
army life in that troubled period. It will be well, however, to bear
in mind the chief facts in the history of the times.

From the beginning of his reign, Charles had had trouble with his
parliaments, which had already become very restless under James I.
Charles's parliaments disapproved of his foreign policy and their
unwillingness to grant subsidies led him to fall back on questionable
methods of raising money, especially during the eleven years
(1629--1640) in which he ruled without a parliament. Charles had no
great scheme of tyranny, but avoided parliaments because of their
criticism of his policy. At first the opposition had been purely
political, but the parliament of 1629 had attacked also Charles's
religious policy. He favoured the schemes of Laud (archbishop of
Canterbury 1633--1649) and the Arminian school among the clergy, who
wished to revive many of the old Catholic practices and some of the
beliefs which had been swept away by the Reformation. Many people
in England objected not only to these but even to the wearing of the
surplice, the simplest of the old vestments, on the use of which Laud
tried to insist. This party came to be known as Puritans and they
formed the chief strength of the opposition to the King in the Long
Parliament which met in 1640. For their attack on the Church led many
who had at first opposed the King's arbitrary methods to go over to
his side. Thus, the moderate men as well as the loyalists formed a
king's party and the opposition was almost confined to men who hated
the Church as much as the King. The Puritans who loved simplicity
of dress and severity of manners and despised the flowing locks and
worldly vanities which the Cavaliers loved were, by these, nicknamed
Roundheads on account of their short hair. Defoe, in the _Memoirs_,
gives us less of this side of the history of the times than might have
been expected. The war actually began in August, 1642, and what
Defoe gives us is military history, correct in essentials and full
of detail, which is, however, far from accurate. For instance, in his
account of the battle of Marston Moor, he makes prince Rupert command
the left wing, whereas he really commanded the right wing, the left
being led by Lord Goring who, according to Defoe's account, commanded
the main battle. He conveys to us, however, the true spirit of the
war, emphasizing the ability and the mistakes on both sides, showing
how the king's miscalculations or Rupert's rashness deprived the
Royalist party of the advantages of the superior generalship and
fighting power which were theirs in the first part of the war and how
gradually the Roundheads got the better of the Cavaliers. The detailed
narrative comes to an end with the delivery of the King to the
Parliament by the Scots, to whom he had given himself up in his
extremity. A few lines tell of his trial and execution and the
_Memoirs_ end with some pages of "remarks and observations" on the
war and a list of coincidences which had been noted in its course.
The latter, savouring somewhat of superstition, appear natural in
what purports to be a seventeenth century text, but the summing up of
conclusions about the war is rather such as might be made by a more or
less impartial observer at a later date than by one who had taken an
active part in the struggle. In reading the _Memoirs_ this mixture of
what belongs to the seventeenth century with the reflections of Defoe,
in many ways a typical eighteenth century figure, must be borne in
mind. The inaccuracies are pointed out in the notes, but these need
not prevent us from entering with zest into the spirit of the story.

E. O'NEILL.

4 _March_ 1908.




CONTENTS

  INTRODUCTION.
  PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION.
  TEXT: Part I.
        Part II.
  NOTES.




PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION.


As an evidence that 'tis very probable these Memorials were written
many years ago, the persons now concerned in the publication assure
the reader that they have had them in their possession finished, as
they now appear, above twenty years; that they were so long ago found
by great accident, among other valuable papers, in the closet of an
eminent public minister, of no less figure than one of King William's
secretaries of state.

As it is not proper to trace them any farther, so neither is there any
need to trace them at all, to give reputation to the story related,
seeing the actions here mentioned have a sufficient sanction from all
the histories of the times to which they relate, with this addition,
that the admirable manner of relating them and the wonderful variety
of incidents with which they are beautified in the course of a private
gentleman's story, add such delight in the reading, and give such a
lustre, as well to the accounts themselves as to the person who was
the actor, that no story, we believe, extant in the world ever came
abroad with such advantage.

It must naturally give some concern in the reading that the name of a
person of so much gallantry and honour, and so many ways valuable
to the world, should be lost to the readers. We assure them no small
labour has been thrown away upon the inquiry, and all we have been
able to arrive to of discovery in this affair is, that a memorandum
was found with this manuscript, in these words, but not signed by any
name, only the two letters of a name, which gives us no light into the
matter, which memoir was as follows:--

_Memorandum_.

"I found this manuscript among my father's writings, and I understand
that he got them as plunder, at, or after, the fight at Worcester,
where he served as major of ----'s regiment of horse on the side of
the Parliament. I.K."

As this has been of no use but to terminate the inquiry after the
person, so, however, it seems most naturally to give an authority to
the original of the work, viz., that it was born of a soldier; and
indeed it is through every part related with so soldierly a style, and
in the very language of the field, that it seems impossible anything
but the very person who was present in every action here related,
could be the relater of them.

The accounts of battles, the sieges, and the several actions of which
this work is so full, are all recorded in the histories of those
times; such as the great battle of Leipsic, the sacking of Magdeburg,
the siege of Nuremburg, the passing the river Lech in Bavaria; such
also as the battle of Kineton, or Edgehill, the battles of Newbury,
Marston Moor, and Naseby, and the like: they are all, we say, recorded
in other histories, and written by those who lived in those times, and
perhaps had good authority for what they wrote. But do those relations
give any of the beautiful ideas of things formed in this account?
Have they one half of the circumstances and incidents of the actions
themselves that this man's eyes were witness to, and which his memory
has thus preserved? He that has read the best accounts of those
battles will be surprised to see the particulars of the story so
preserved, so nicely and so agreeably described, and will confess
what we allege, that the story is inimitably told; and even the great
actions of the glorious King GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS receive a lustre
from this man's relations which the world was never made sensible of
before, and which the present age has much wanted of late, in order to
give their affections a turn in favour of his late glorious successor.

In the story of our own country's unnatural wars, he carries on the
same spirit. How effectually does he record the virtues and glorious
actions of King Charles the First, at the same time that he frequently
enters upon the mistakes of his Majesty's conduct, and of his friends,
which gave his enemies all those fatal advantages against him, which
ended in the overthrow of his armies, the loss of his crown and life,
and the ruin of the constitution!

In all his accounts he does justice to his enemies, and honours
the merit of those whose cause he fought against; and many accounts
recorded in his story, are not to be found even in the best histories
of those times.

What applause does he give to gallantry of Sir Thomas Fairfax, to his
modesty, to his conduct, under which he himself was subdued, and to
the justice he did the king's troops when they laid down their arms!

His description of the Scots troops in the beginning of the war, and
the behaviour of the party under the Earl of Holland, who went over
against them, are admirable; and his censure of their conduct, who
pushed the king upon the quarrel, and then would not let him fight, is
no more than what many of the king's friends (though less knowing as
soldiers) have often complained of.

In a word, this work is a confutation of many errors in all the
writers upon the subject of our wars in England, and even in that
extraordinary history written by the Earl of Clarendon; but the
editors were so just that when, near twenty years ago, a person
who had written a whole volume in folio, by way of answer to and
confutation of Clarendon's "History of the Rebellion," would have
borrowed the clauses in this account, which clash with that history,
and confront it,--we say the editors were so just as to refuse them.

There can be nothing objected against the general credit of this work,
seeing its truth is established upon universal history; and almost all
the facts, especially those of moment, are confirmed for their general
part by all the writers of those times. If they are here embellished
with particulars, which are nowhere else to be found, that is the
beauty we boast of; and that it is that much recommend this work to
all the men of sense and judgment that read it.

The only objection we find possible to make against this work is, that
it is not carried on farther, or, as we may say finished, with the
finishing the war of the time; and this we complain of also. But then
we complain of it as a misfortune to the world, not as a fault in the
author; for how do we know but that this author might carry it on, and
have another part finished which might not fall into the same hands,
or may still remain with some of his family, and which they cannot
indeed publish, to make it seem anything perfect, for want of the
other parts which we have, and which we have now made public? Nor is
it very improbable but that if any such farther part is in being, the
publishing these two parts may occasion the proprietors of the third
to let the world see it, and that by such a discovery the name of the
person may also come to be known, which would, no doubt, be a great
satisfaction to the reader as well as us.

This, however, must be said, that if the same author should have
written another part of this work, and carried it on to the end of
those times, yet as the residue of those melancholy days, to the
Restoration, were filled with the intrigues of government, the
political management of illegal power, and the dissensions and
factions of a people who were then even in themselves but a faction,
and that there was very little action in the field, it is more than
probable that our author, who was a man of arms, had little share in
those things, and might not care to trouble himself with looking at
them.

But besides all this, it might happen that he might go abroad again
at that time, as most of the gentlemen of quality, and who had an
abhorrence for the power that then governed here, did. Nor are we
certain that he might live to the end of that time, so we can give
no account whether he had any share in the subsequent actions of that
time.

'Tis enough that we have the authorities above to recommend this part
to us that is now published. The relation, we are persuaded, will
recommend itself, and nothing more can be needful, because nothing
more can invite than the story itself, which, when the reader enters
into, he will find it very hard to get out of till he has gone through
it.




MEMOIRS OF A CAVALIER.

PART I.


It may suffice the reader, without being very inquisitive after my
name, that I was born in the county of Salop, in the year 1608, under
the government of what star I was never astrologer enough to
examine; but the consequences of my life may allow me to suppose some
extraordinary influence affected my birth.

My father was a gentleman of a very plentiful fortune, having an
estate of above £5000 per annum, of a family nearly allied to several
of the principal nobility, and lived about six miles from the town;
and my mother being at ---- on some particular occasion, was surprised
there at a friend's house, and brought me very safe into the world.

I was my father's second son, and therefore was not altogether so much
slighted as younger sons of good families generally are. But my father
saw something in my genius also which particularly pleased him, and so
made him take extraordinary care of my education.

I was taught, therefore, by the best masters that could be had,
everything that was needful to accomplish a young gentleman for the
world; and at seventeen years old my tutor told my father an academic
education was very proper for a person of quality, and he thought me
very fit for it: so my father entered me of ---- College in Oxford,
where I continued three years.

A collegiate life did not suit me at all, though I loved books well
enough. It was never designed that I should be either a lawyer,
physician, or divine; and I wrote to my father that I thought I had
stayed there long enough for a gentleman, and with his leave I desired
to give him a visit.

During my stay at Oxford, though I passed through the proper exercises
of the house, yet my chief reading was upon history and geography,
as that which pleased my mind best, and supplied me with ideas most
suitable to my genius; by one I understood what great actions had been
done in the world, and by the other I understood where they had been
done.

My father readily complied with my desire of coming home; for besides
that he thought, as I did, that three years' time at the university
was enough, he also most passionately loved me, and began to think of
my settling near him.

At my arrival I found myself extraordinarily caressed by my father,
and he seemed to take a particular delight in my conversation. My
mother, who lived in perfect union with him both in desires and
affection, received me very passionately. Apartments were provided for
me by myself, and horses and servants allowed me in particular.

My father never went a-hunting, an exercise he was exceeding fond of,
but he would have me with him; and it pleased him when he found me
like the sport. I lived thus, in all the pleasures 'twas possible for
me to enjoy, for about a year more, when going out one morning with my
father to hunt a stag, and having had a very hard chase, and gotten
a great way off from home, we had leisure enough to ride gently back;
and as we returned my father took occasion to enter into a serious
discourse with me concerning the manner of my settling in the world.

He told me, with a great deal of passion, that he loved me above all
the rest of his children, and that therefore he intended to do very
well for me; and that my eldest brother being already married
and settled, he had designed the same for me, and proposed a very
advantageous match for me, with a young lady of very extraordinary
fortune and merit, and offered to make a settlement of £2000 per annum
on me, which he said he would purchase for me without diminishing his
paternal estate.

There was too much tenderness in this discourse not to affect me
exceedingly. I told him I would perfectly resign myself unto his
disposal. But as my father had, together with his love for me, a very
nice judgment in his discourse, he fixed his eyes very attentively on
me, and though my answer was without the least reserve, yet he
thought he saw some uneasiness in me at the proposal, and from thence
concluded that my compliance was rather an act of discretion than
inclination; and that, however I seemed so absolutely given up to what
he had proposed, yet my answer was really an effect of my obedience
rather than my choice.

So he returned very quick upon me: "Look you, son, though I give you
my own thoughts in the matter, yet I would have you be very plain with
me; for if your own choice does not agree with mine, I will be your
adviser, but will never impose upon you, and therefore let me know
your mind freely." "I don't reckon myself capable, sir," said I, with
a great deal of respect, "to make so good a choice for myself as you
can for me; and though my opinion differed from yours, its being your
opinion would reform mine, and my judgment would as readily comply as
my duty." "I gather at least from thence," said my father, "that your
designs lay another way before, however they may comply with mine; and
therefore I would know what it was you would have asked of me if I had
not offered this to you; and you must not deny me your obedience in
this, if you expect I should believe your readiness in the other."

"Sir," said I, "'twas impossible I should lay out for myself just
what you have proposed; but if my inclinations were never so contrary,
though at your command you shall know them, yet I declare them to be
wholly subjected to your order. I confess my thoughts did not tend
towards marriage or a settlement; for, though I had no reason to
question your care of me, yet I thought a gentleman ought always to
see something of the world before he confined himself to any part of
it. And if I had been to ask your consent to anything, it should have
been to give me leave to travel for a short time, in order to qualify
myself to appear at home like a son to so good a father."

"In what capacity would you travel?" replied my father. "You must go
abroad either as a private gentleman, as a scholar, or as a soldier."
"If it were in the latter capacity, sir," said I, returning pretty
quick, "I hope I should not misbehave myself; but I am not so
determined as not to be ruled by your judgment." "Truly," replied my
father, "I see no war abroad at this time worth while for a man to
appear in, whether we talk of the cause or the encouragement; and
indeed, son, I am afraid you need not go far for adventures of that
nature, for times seem to look as if this part of Europe would find us
work enough." My father spake then relating to the quarrel likely
to happen between the King of England and the Spaniard,' [1] for I
believe he had no notions of a civil war in his head.

In short, my father, perceiving my inclinations very forward to go
abroad, gave me leave to travel, upon condition I would promise to
return in two years at farthest, or sooner, if he sent for me.

While I was at Oxford I happened into the society of a young
gentleman, of a good family, but of a low fortune, being a younger
brother, and who had indeed instilled into me the first desires of
going abroad, and who, I knew, passionately longed to travel, but had
not sufficient allowance to defray his expenses as a gentleman. We
had contracted a very close friendship, and our humours being very
agreeable to one another, we daily enjoyed the conversation of
letters. He was of a generous free temper, without the least
affectation or deceit, a handsome proper person, a strong body, very
good mien, and brave to the last degree. His name was Fielding and we
called him Captain, though it be a very unusual title in a college;
but fate had some hand in the title, for he had certainly the lines of
a soldier drawn in his countenance. I imparted to him the resolutions
I had taken, and how I had my father's consent to go abroad, and would
know his mind whether he would go with me. He sent me word he would go
with all his heart.

My father, when he saw him, for I sent for him immediately to come
to me, mightily approved my choice; so we got our equipage ready, and
came away for London.

'Twas on the 22nd of April 1630, when we embarked at Dover, landed in
a few hours at Calais, and immediately took post for Paris. I shall
not trouble the reader with a journal of my travels, nor with the
description of places, which every geographer can do better than I;
but these Memoirs being only a relation of what happened either to
ourselves, or in our own knowledge, I shall confine myself to that
part of it.

We had indeed some diverting passages in our journey to Paris, as
first, the horse my comrade was upon fell so very lame with a slip
that he could not go, and hardly stand, and the fellow that rid with
us express, pretended to ride away to a town five miles off to get a
fresh horse, and so left us on the road with one horse between two of
us. We followed as well as we could, but being strangers, missed the
way, and wandered a great way out the road. Whether the man performed
in reasonable time or not we could not be sure, but if it had not been
for an old priest, we had never found him. We met this man, by a very
good accident, near a little village whereof he was curate. We spoke
Latin enough just to make him understand us, and he did not speak it
much better himself; but he carried us into the village to his house,
gave us wine and bread, and entertained us with wonderful courtesy.
After this he sent into the village, hired a peasant, and a horse for
my captain, and sent him to guide us into the road. At parting he
made a great many compliments to us in French, which we could just
understand; but the sum was, to excuse him for a question he had
a mind to ask us. After leave to ask what he pleased, it was if we
wanted any money for our journey, and pulled out two pistoles, which
he offered either to give or lend us.

I mention this exceeding courtesy of the curate because, though
civility is very much in use in France, and especially to strangers,
yet 'tis a very unusual thing to have them part with their money.

We let the priest know, first, that we did not want money, and next
that we were very sensible of the obligation he had put upon us; and
I told him in particular, if I lived to see him again, I would
acknowledge it.

This accident of our horse was, as we afterwards found, of some use
to us. We had left our two servants behind us at Calais to bring our
baggage after us, by reason of some dispute between the captain of the
packet and the custom-house officer, which could not be adjusted, and
we were willing to be at Paris. The fellows followed as fast as they
could, and, as near as we could learn, in the time we lost our way,
were robbed, and our portmanteaus opened. They took what they pleased;
but as there was no money there, but linen and necessaries, the loss
was not great.

Our guide carried us to Amiens, where we found the express and our two
servants, who the express meeting on the road with a spare horse, had
brought back with him thither.

We took this for a good omen of our successful journey, having escaped
a danger which might have been greater to us than it was to our
servants; for the highwaymen in France do not always give a traveller
the civility of bidding him stand and deliver his money, but
frequently fire on him first, and then take his money.

We stayed one day at Amiens, to adjust this little disorder, and
walked about the town, and into the great church, but saw nothing
very remarkable there; but going across a broad street near the great
church, we saw a crowd of people gazing at a mountebank doctor, who
made a long harangue to them with a thousand antic postures, and gave
out bills this way, and boxes of physic that way, and had a great
trade, when on a sudden the people raised a cry, "_Larron, Larron_!"
(in English, "Thief, thief"), on the other side the street, and all
the auditors ran away, from Mr Doctor to see what the matter was.
Among the rest we went to see, and the case was plain and short
enough. Two English gentlemen and a Scotchman, travellers as we were,
were standing gazing at this prating doctor, and one of them catched
a fellow picking his pocket. The fellow had got some of his money, for
he dropped two or three pieces just by him, and had got hold of
his watch, but being surprised let it slip again. But the reason of
telling this story is for the management of it. This thief had his
seconds so ready, that as soon as the Englishman had seized him they
fell in, pretended to be mighty zealous for the stranger, takes the
fellow by the throat, and makes a great bustle; the gentleman not
doubting but the man was secured let go his own hold of him, and left
him to them. The hubbub was great, and 'twas these fellows cried,
"_Larron, larron_!" but with a dexterity peculiar to themselves had
let the right fellow go, and pretended to be all upon one of their own
gang. At last they bring the man to the gentleman to ask him what the
fellow had done, who, when he saw the person they seized on, presently
told them that was not the man. Then they seemed to be in more
consternation than before, and spread themselves all over the street,
crying, "_Larron, larron_!" pretending to search for the fellow; and
so one one way, one another, they were all gone, the noise went over,
the gentlemen stood looking one at another, and the bawling doctor
began to have the crowd about him again. This was the first French
trick I had the opportunity of seeing, but I was told they have a
great many more as dexterous as this.

We soon got acquaintance with these gentlemen, who were going to
Paris, as well as we; so the next day we made up our company with
them, and were a pretty troop of five gentlemen and four servants.

As we had really no design to stay long at Paris, so indeed, excepting
the city itself, there was not much to be seen there. Cardinal
Richelieu, who was not only a supreme minister in the Church, but
Prime Minister in the State, was now made also General of the King's
Forces, with a title never known in France before nor since, viz.,
Lieutenant-General "au place du Roi," in the king's stead, or, as some
have since translated it, representing the person of the king.

Under this character he pretended to execute all the royal powers in
the army without appeal to the king, or without waiting for orders;
and having parted from Paris the winter before had now actually begun
the war against the Duke of Savoy, in the process of which he restored
the Duke of Mantua, and having taken Pignerol from the duke, put it
into such a state of defence as the duke could never force it out of
his hands, and reduced the duke, rather by manage and conduct than
by force, to make peace without it; so as annexing it to the crown of
France it has ever since been a thorn in his foot that has always
made the peace of Savoy lame and precarious, and France has since made
Pignerol one of the strongest fortresses in the world.

As the cardinal, with all the military part of the court, was in the
field, so the king, to be near him, was gone with the queen and all
the court, just before I reached Paris, to reside at Lyons. All these
considered, there was nothing to do at Paris; the court looked like a
citizen's house when the family was all gone into the country, and
I thought the whole city looked very melancholy, compared to all the
fine things I had heard of it.

The queen-mother and her party were chagrined at the cardinal, who,
though he owed his grandeur to her immediate favour, was now grown too
great any longer to be at the command of her Majesty, or indeed in her
interest; and therefore the queen was under dissatisfaction and her
party looked very much down.

The Protestants were everywhere disconsolate, for the losses they had
received at Rochelle, Nimes, and Montpelier had reduced them to an
absolute dependence on the king's will, without all possible hopes of
ever recovering themselves, or being so much as in a condition to
take arms for their religion, and therefore the wisest of them plainly
foresaw their own entire reduction, as it since came to pass. And I
remember very well that a Protestant gentleman told me once, as we
were passing from Orleans to Lyons, that the English had ruined them;
and therefore, says he, "I think the next occasion the king takes to
use us ill, as I know 'twill not be long before he does, we must all
fly over to England, where you are bound to maintain us for having
helped to turn us out of our own country." I asked him what he meant
by saying the English had done it? He returned short upon me: "I do
not mean," says he, "by not relieving Rochelle, but by helping to ruin
Rochelle, when you and the Dutch lent ships to beat our fleet, which
all the ships in France could not have done without you."

I was too young in the world to be very sensible of this before, and
therefore was something startled at the charge; but when I came to
discourse with this gentleman, I soon saw the truth of what he said
was undeniable, and have since reflected on it with regret, that the
naval power of the Protestants, which was then superior to the royal,
would certainly have been the recovery of all their fortunes, had it
not been unhappily broke by their brethren of England and Holland,
the former lending seven men-of-war, and the latter twenty, for the
destruction of the Rochellers' fleet; and by these very ships the
Rochellers' fleet were actually beaten and destroyed, and they never
afterwards recovered their force at sea, and by consequence sunk under
the siege, which the English afterwards in vain attempted to prevent.

These things made the Protestants look very dull, and expected the
ruin of all their party, which had certainly happened had the cardinal
lived a few years longer.

We stayed in Paris, about three weeks, as well to see the court and
what rarities the place afforded, as by an occasion which had like to
have put a short period to our ramble.

Walking one morning before the gate of the Louvre, with a design to
see the Swiss drawn up, which they always did, and exercised just
before they relieved the guards, a page came up to me, and speaking
English to me, "Sir," says he, "the captain must needs have your
immediate assistance." I, that had not the knowledge of any person
in Paris but my own companion, whom I called captain, had no room to
question, but it was he that sent for me; and crying out hastily to
him, "Where?" followed the fellow as fast as 'twas possible. He led
me through several passages which I knew not, and at last through a
tennis-court and into a large room, where three men, like gentlemen,
were engaged very briskly two against one. The room was very dark, so
that I could not easily know them asunder, but being fully possessed
with an opinion before of my captain's danger, I ran into the room
with my sword in my hand. I had not particularly engaged any of them,
nor so much as made a pass at any, when I received a very dangerous
thrust in my thigh, rather occasioned by my too hasty running in,
than a real design of the person; but enraged at the hurt, without
examining who it was hurt me, I threw myself upon him, and run my
sword quite through his body.

The novelty of the adventure, and the unexpected fall of the man by
a stranger come in nobody knew how, had becalmed the other two, that
they really stood gazing at me. By this time I had discovered that my
captain was not there, and that 'twas some strange accident brought
me thither. I could speak but little French, and supposed they could
speak no English, so I stepped to the door to see for the page that
brought me thither, but seeing nobody there and the passage clear,
I made off as fast as I could, without speaking a word; nor did the
other two gentlemen offer to stop me.

But I was in a strange confusion when, coming into those entries and
passages which the page led me through, I could by no means find my
way out. At last seeing a door open that looked through a house into
the street, I went in, and out at the other door; but then I was at
as great a loss to know where I was, and which was the way to my
lodgings. The wound in my thigh bled apace, and I could feel the blood
in my breeches. In this interval came by a chair; I called, and went
into it, and bid them, as well as I could, go to the Louvre; for
though I knew not the name of the street where I lodged, I knew I
could find the way to it when I was at the Bastille. The chairmen went
on their own way, and being stopped by a company of the guards as they
went, set me down till the soldiers were marched by; when looking out
I found I was just at my own lodging, and the captain was standing at
the door looking for me. I beckoned him to me, and, whispering, told
him I was very much hurt, but bid him pay the chairmen, and ask no
questions but come to me.

I made the best of my way upstairs, but had lost so much blood, that I
had hardly spirits enough to keep me from swooning till he came in.
He was equally concerned with me to see me in such a bloody condition,
and presently called up our landlord, and he as quickly called in his
neighbours, that I had a room full of people about me in a quarter
of an hour. But this had like to have been of worse consequence to me
than the other, for by this time there was great inquiring after the
person who killed a man at the tennis-court. My landlord was then
sensible of his mistake, and came to me and told me the danger I was
in, and very honestly offered to convey me to a friend's of his, where
I should be very secure; I thanked him, and suffered myself to be
carried at midnight whither he pleased. He visited me very often, till
I was well enough to walk about, which was not in less than ten days,
and then we thought fit to be gone, so we took post for Orleans. But
when I came upon the road I found myself in a new error, for my wound
opened again with riding, and I was in a worse condition than before,
being forced to take up at a little village on the road, called ----,
about ---- miles from Orleans, where there was no surgeon to be had,
but a sorry country barber, who nevertheless dressed me as well as he
could, and in about a week more I was able to walk to Orleans at three
times. Here I stayed till I was quite well, and took coach for Lyons
and so through Savoy into Italy.

I spent nearly two years' time after this bad beginning in travelling
through Italy, and to the several courts of Rome, Naples, Venice, and
Vienna.

When I came to Lyons the king was gone from thence to Grenoble to meet
the cardinal, but the queens were both at Lyons.

The French affairs seemed at this time to have but an indifferent
aspect. There was no life in anything but where the cardinal was: he
pushed on everything with extraordinary conduct, and generally with
success; he had taken Susa and Pignerol from the Duke of Savoy, and
was preparing to push the duke even out of all his dominions.

But in the meantime everywhere else things looked ill; the troops
were ill-paid, the magazines empty, the people mutinous, and a general
disorder seized the minds of the court; and the cardinal, who was the
soul of everything, desired this interview at Grenoble, in order to
put things into some better method.

This politic minister always ordered matters so, that if there was
success in anything the glory was his, but if things miscarried it was
all laid upon the king. This conduct was so much the more nice, as it
is the direct contrary to the custom in like cases, where kings assume
the glory of all the success in an action, and when a thing miscarries
make themselves easy by sacrificing their ministers and favourites
to the complaints and resentments of the people; but this accurate
refined statesman got over this point.

While we were at Lyons, and as I remember, the third day after our
coming thither, we had like to have been involved in a state broil,
without knowing where we were. It was of a Sunday in the evening, the
people of Lyons, who had been sorely oppressed in taxes, and the war
in Italy pinching their trade, began to be very tumultuous. We found
the day before the mob got together in great crowds, and talked oddly;
the king was everywhere reviled, and spoken disrespectfully of, and
the magistrates of the city either winked at, or durst not attempt to
meddle, lest they should provoke the people.

But on Sunday night, about midnight, we were waked by a prodigious
noise in the street. I jumped out of bed, and running to the window,
I saw the street as full of mob as it could hold, some armed with
muskets and halberds, marched in very good order; others in disorderly
crowds, all shouting and crying out, "Du paix le roi," and the like.
One that led a great party of this rabble carried a loaf of bread upon
the top of a pike, and other lesser loaves, signifying the smallness
of their bread, occasioned by dearness.

By morning this crowd was gathered to a great height; they ran roving
over the whole city, shut up all the shops, and forced all the
people to join with them from thence. They went up to the castle, and
renewing the clamour, a strange consternation seized all the princes.

They broke open the doors of the officers, collectors of the new
taxes, and plundered their houses, and had not the persons themselves
fled in time they had been very ill-treated.

The queen-mother, as she was very much displeased to see such
consequences of the government, in whose management she had no share,
so I suppose she had the less concern upon her. However, she came into
the court of the castle and showed herself to the people, gave money
amongst them, and spoke gently to them; and by a way peculiar to
herself, and which obliged all she talked with, she pacified the mob
gradually, sent them home with promises of redress and the like; and
so appeased this tumult in two days by her prudence, which the guards
in the castle had small mind to meddle with, and if they had, would in
all probability have made the better side the worse.

There had been several seditions of the like nature in sundry other
parts of France, and the very army began to murmur, though not to
mutiny, for want of provisions.

This sedition at Lyons was not quite over when we left the place,
for, finding the city all in a broil, we considered we had no business
there, and what the consequence of a popular tumult might be we did
not see, so we prepared to be gone. We had not rid above three miles
out of the city but we were brought as prisoners of war, by a party of
mutineers, who had been abroad upon the scout, and were charged
with being messengers sent to the cardinal for forces to reduce the
citizens. With these pretences they brought us back in triumph, and
the queen-mother, being by this time grown something familiar to them,
they carried us before her.

When they inquired of us who we were, we called ourselves Scots; for
as the English were very much out of favour in France at this time,
the peace having been made not many months, and not supposed to
be very durable, because particularly displeasing to the people of
England, so the Scots were on the other extreme with the French.
Nothing was so much caressed as the Scots, and a man had no more to
do in France, if he would be well received there, than to say he was a
Scotchman.

When we came before the queen-mother she seemed to receive us with
some stiffness at first, and caused her guards to take us into
custody; but as she was a lady of most exquisite politics, she did
this to amuse the mob, and we were immediately after dismissed; and
the queen herself made a handsome excuse to us for the rudeness we had
suffered, alleging the troubles of the times; and the next morning we
had three dragoons of the guards to convoy us out of the jurisdiction
of Lyons.

I confess this little adventure gave me an aversion to popular tumults
all my life after, and if nothing else had been in the cause, would
have biassed me to espouse the king's party in England when our
popular heats carried all before it at home.

But I must say, that when I called to mind since, the address, the
management, the compliance in show, and in general the whole conduct
of the queen-mother with the mutinous people of Lyons, and compared it
with the conduct of my unhappy master the King of England, I could not
but see that the queen understood much better than King Charles the
management of politics and the clamours of the people.

Had this princess been at the helm in England, she would have
prevented all the calamities of the Civil War here, and yet not have
parted with what that good prince yielded in order to peace neither.
She would have yielded gradually, and then gained upon them gradually;
she would have managed them to the point she had designed them, as she
did all parties in France; and none could effectually subject her but
the very man she had raised to be her principal support--I mean the
cardinal.

We went from hence to Grenoble, and arrived there the same day that
the king and the cardinal with the whole court went out to view a body
of 6000 Swiss foot, which the cardinal had wheedled the cantons to
grant to the king to help to ruin their neighbour the Duke of Savoy.

The troops were exceeding fine, well-accoutred, brave, clean-limbed,
stout fellows indeed. Here I saw the cardinal; there was an air of
church gravity in his habit, but all the vigour of a general, and
the sprightliness of a vast genius in his face. He affected a little
stiffness in his behaviour, but managed all his affairs with such
clearness, such steadiness, and such application, that it was no
wonder he had such success in every undertaking.

Here I saw the king, whose figure was mean, his countenance hollow,
and always seemed dejected, and every way discovering that weakness in
his countenance that appeared in his actions.

If he was ever sprightly and vigorous it was when the cardinal was
with him, for he depended so much on everything he did, he that was at
the utmost dilemma when he was absent, always timorous, jealous, and
irresolute.

After the review the cardinal was absent some days, having been to
wait on the queen-mother at Lyons, where, as it was discoursed, they
were at least seemingly reconciled.

I observed while the cardinal was gone there was no court, the king
was seldom to be seen, very small attendance given, and no bustle at
the castle; but as soon as the cardinal returned, the great councils
were assembled, the coaches of the ambassadors went every day to the
castle, and a face of business appeared upon the whole court.

Here the measures of the Duke of Savoy's ruin were concerted, and in
order to it the king and the cardinal put themselves at the head
of the army, with which they immediately reduced all Savoy, took
Chamberri and the whole duchy except Montmelian.

The army that did this was not above 22,000 men, including the Swiss,
and but indifferent troops neither, especially the French foot, who,
compared to the infantry I have since seen in the German and Swedish
armies, were not fit to be called soldiers. On the other hand,
considering the Savoyards and Italian troops, they were good troops;
but the cardinal's conduct made amends for all these deficiencies.

From hence I went to Pignerol, which was then little more than a
single fortification on the hill near the town called St Bride's, but
the situation of that was very strong. I mention this because of the
prodigious works since added to it, by which it has since obtained the
name of "the right hand of France." They had begun a new line below
the hill, and some works were marked out on the side of the town next
the fort; but the cardinal afterwards drew the plan of the works with
his own hand, by which it was made one of the strongest fortresses in
Europe.

While I was at Pignerol, the governor of Milan, for the Spaniards,
came with an army and sat down before Casale. The grand quarrel,
and for which the war in this part of Italy was begun, was this: The
Spaniards and Germans pretended to the duchy of Mantua; the Duke
of Nevers, a Frenchman, had not only a title to it, but had got
possession of it; but being ill-supported by the French, was beaten
out by the Imperialists, and after a long siege the Germans took
Mantua itself, and drove the poor duke quite out of the country.

The taking of Mantua elevated the spirits of the Duke of Savoy, and
the Germans and Spaniards being now at more leisure, with a complete
army came to his assistance, and formed the siege of Montferrat.

For as the Spaniards pushed the Duke of Mantua, so the French by
way of diversion lay hard upon the Duke of Savoy. They had seized
Montferrat, and held it for the Duke of Mantua, and had a strong
French garrison under Thoiras, a brave and experienced commander; and
thus affairs stood when we came into the French army.

I had no business there as a soldier, but having passed as a Scotch
gentleman with the mob at Lyons, and after with her Majesty the
queen-mother, when we obtained the guard of her dragoons, we had also
her Majesty's pass, with which we came and went where we pleased. And
the cardinal, who was then not on very good terms with the queen, but
willing to keep smooth water there, when two or three times our passes
came to be examined, showed a more than ordinary respect to us on that
very account, our passes being from the queen.

Casale being besieged, as I have observed, began to be in danger, for
the cardinal, who 'twas thought had formed a design to ruin Savoy, was
more intent upon that than upon the succour of the Duke of Mantua; but
necessity calling upon him to deliver so great a captain as Thoiras,
and not to let such a place as Casale fall into the hands of the
enemy, the king, or cardinal rather, ordered the Duke of Montmorency,
and the Maréchal D'Effiat, with 10,000 foot and 2000 horse, to march
and join the Maréchals De La Force and Schomberg, who lay already with
an army on the frontiers of Genoa, but too weak to attempt the raising
the siege of Casale.

As all men thought there would be a battle between the French and the
Spaniards, I could not prevail with myself to lose the opportunity,
and therefore by the help of the passes above mentioned, I came to
the French army under the Duke of Montmorency. We marched through the
enemy's country with great boldness and no small hazard, for the Duke
of Savoy appeared frequently with great bodies of horse on the rear of
the army, and frequently skirmished with our troops, in one of which
I had the folly--I can call it no better, for I had no business
there--to go out and see the sport, as the French gentlemen called it.
I was but a raw soldier, and did not like the sport at all, for this
party was surrounded by the Duke of Savoy, and almost all killed, for
as to quarter they neither asked nor gave. I ran away very fairly,
one of the first, and my companion with me, and by the goodness of our
horses got out of the fray, and being not much known in the army, we
came into the camp an hour or two after, as if we had been only riding
abroad for the air.

This little rout made the general very cautious, for the Savoyards
were stronger in horse by three or four thousand, and the army always
marched in a body, and kept their parties in or very near hand.

I escaped another rub in this French army about five days after, which
had like to have made me pay dear for my curiosity.

The Duke de Montmorency and the Maréchal Schomberg joined their army
about four or five days after, and immediately, according to the
cardinal's instructions, put themselves on the march for the relief of
Casale.

The army had marched over a great plain, with some marshy grounds
on the right and the Po on the left, and as the country was so well
discovered that 'twas thought impossible any mischief should happen,
the generals observed the less caution. At the end of this plain was a
long wood and a lane or narrow defile through the middle of it.

Through this pass the army was to march, and the van began to file
through it about four o'clock. By three hours' time all the army was
got through, or into the pass, and the artillery was just entered
when the Duke of Savoy with 4000 horse and 1500 dragoons with every
horseman a footman behind him, whether he had swam the Po or passed it
above at a bridge, and made a long march after, was not examined, but
he came boldly up the plain and charged our rear with a great deal of
fury.

Our artillery was in the lane, and as it was impossible to turn them
about and make way for the army, so the rear was obliged to support
themselves and maintain the fight for above an hour and a half.

In this time we lost abundance of men, and if it had not been for two
accidents all that line had been cut off. One was, that the wood was
so near that those regiments which were disordered presently sheltered
themselves in the wood; the other was, that by this time the Maréchal
Schomberg, with the horse of the van, began to get back through the
lane, and to make good the ground from whence the other had been
beaten, till at last by this means it came to almost a pitched battle.

There were two regiments of French dragoons who did excellent service
in this action, and maintained their ground till they were almost all
killed.

Had the Duke of Savoy contented himself with the defeat of five
regiments on the right, which he quite broke and drove into the wood,
and with the slaughter and havoc which he had made among the rest,
he had come off with honour, and might have called it a victory; but
endeavouring to break the whole party and carry off some cannon, the
obstinate resistance of these few dragoons lost him his advantages,
and held him in play till so many fresh troops got through the pass
again as made us too strong for him, and had not night parted them he
had been entirely defeated.

At last, finding our troops increase and spread themselves on his
flank, he retired and gave over. We had no great stomach to pursue him
neither, though some horse were ordered to follow a little way.

The duke lost about a thousand men, and we almost twice as many, and
but for those dragoons had lost the whole rear-guard and half our
cannon. I was in a very sorry case in this action too. I was with the
rear in the regiment of horse of Perigoort, with a captain of which
regiment I had contracted some acquaintance. I would have rid off at
first, as the captain desired me, but there was no doing it, for the
cannon was in the lane, and the horse and dragoons of the van eagerly
pressing back through the lane must have run me down or carried me
with them. As for the wood, it was a good shelter to save one's life,
but was so thick there was no passing it on horseback.

Our regiment was one of the first that was broke, and being all in
confusion, with the Duke of Savoy's men at our heels, away we ran into
the wood. Never was there so much disorder among a parcel of runaways
as when we came to this wood; it was so exceeding bushy and thick at
the bottom there was no entering it, and a volley of small shot from
a regiment of Savoy's dragoons poured in upon us at our breaking into
the wood made terrible work among our horses.

For my part I was got into the wood, but was forced to quit my horse,
and by that means, with a great deal of difficulty, got a little
farther in, where there was a little open place, and being quite spent
with labouring among the bushes I sat down resolving to take my fate
there, let it be what it would, for I was not able to go any farther.
I had twenty or thirty more in the same condition come to me in less
than half-an-hour, and here we waited very securely the success of the
battle, which was as before.

It was no small relief to those with me to hear the Savoyards were
beaten, for otherwise they had all been lost; as for me, I confess,
I was glad as it was because of the danger, but otherwise I cared not
much which had the better, for I designed no service among them.

One kindness it did me, that I began to consider what I had to do
here, and as I could give but a very slender account of myself for
what it was I run all these risks, so I resolved they should fight it
among themselves, for I would come among them no more.

The captain with whom, as I noted above, I had contracted some
acquaintance in this regiment, was killed in this action, and the
French had really a great blow here, though they took care to conceal
it all they could; and I cannot, without smiling, read some of the
histories and memoirs of this action, which they are not ashamed to
call a victory.

We marched on to Saluzzo, and the next day the Duke of Savoy presented
himself in battalia on the other side of a small river, giving us a
fair challenge to pass and engage him. We always said in our camp that
the orders were to fight the Duke of Savoy wherever we met him; but
though he braved us in our view we did not care to engage him, but we
brought Saluzzo to surrender upon articles, which the duke could not
relieve without attacking our camp, which he did not care to do.

The next morning we had news of the surrender of Mantua to the
Imperial army. We heard of it first from the Duke of Savoy's cannon,
which he fired by way of rejoicing, and which seemed to make him
amends for the loss of Saluzzo.

As this was a mortification to the French, so it quite damped the
success of the campaign, for the Duke de Montmorency imagining that
the Imperial general would send immediate assistance to the Marquis
Spinola, who besieged Casale, they called frequent councils of war
what course to take, and at last resolved to halt in Piedmont. A few
days after their resolutions were changed again by the news of the
death of the Duke of Savoy, Charles Emanuel, who died, as some say,
agitated with the extremes of joy and grief.

This put our generals upon considering again whether they should march
to the relief of Casale, but the chimera of the Germans put them by,
and so they took up quarters in Piedmont. They took several small
places from the Duke of Savoy, making advantage of the consternation
the duke's subjects were in on the death of their prince, and spread
themselves from the seaside to the banks of the Po. But here an enemy
did that for them which the Savoyards could not, for the plague got
into their quarters and destroyed abundance of people, both of the
army and of the country.

I thought then it was time for me to be gone, for I had no manner of
courage for that risk; and I think verily I was more afraid of being
taken sick in a strange country than ever I was of being killed in
battle. Upon this resolution I procured a pass to go for Genoa, and
accordingly began my journey, but was arrested at Villa Franca by a
slow lingering fever, which held me about five days, and then turned
to a burning malignancy, and at last to the plague. My friend, the
captain, never left me night nor day; and though for four days more I
knew nobody, nor was capable of so much as thinking of myself, yet it
pleased God that the distemper gathered in my neck, swelled and broke.
During the swelling I was raging mad with the violence of pain, which
being so near my head swelled that also in proportion, that my eyes
were swelled up, and for the twenty-four hours my tongue and mouth;
then, as my servant told me, all the physicians gave me over, as past
all remedy, but by the good providence of God the swelling broke.

The prodigious collection of matter which this swelling discharged
gave me immediate relief, and I became sensible in less than an hour's
time; and in two hours or thereabouts fell into a little slumber which
recovered my spirits and sensibly revived me. Here I lay by it till
the middle of September. My captain fell sick after me, but recovered
quickly. His man had the plague, and died in two days; my man held it
out well.

About the middle of September we heard of a truce concluded between
all parties, and being unwilling to winter at Villa Franca, I got
passes, and though we were both but weak, we began to travel in
litters for Milan.

And here I experienced the truth of an old English proverb, that
standers-by see more than the gamesters.

The French, Savoyards, and Spaniards made this peace or truce all for
separate and several grounds, and every one were mistaken.

The French yielded to it because they had given over the relief of
Casale, and were very much afraid it would fall into the hands of the
Marquis Spinola. The Savoyards yielded to it because they were afraid
the French would winter in Piedmont; the Spaniards yielded to it
because the Duke of Savoy being dead, and the Count de Colalto, the
Imperial general, giving no assistance, and his army weakened by
sickness and the fatigues of the siege, he foresaw he should never
take the town, and wanted but to come off with honour.

The French were mistaken, because really Spinola was so weak that had
they marched on into Montferrat the Spaniards must have raised the
siege; the Duke of Savoy was mistaken, because the plague had so
weakened the French that they durst not have stayed to winter in
Piedmont; and Spinola was mistaken, for though he was very slow, if he
had stayed before the town one fortnight longer, Thoiras the governor
must have surrendered, being brought to the last extremity.

Of all these mistakes the French had the advantage, for Casale, was
relieved, the army had time to be recruited, and the French had the
best of it by an early campaign.

I passed through Montferrat in my way to Milan just as the truce was
declared, and saw the miserable remains of the Spanish army, who by
sickness, fatigue, hard duty, the sallies of the garrison and such
like consequences, were reduced to less than 2000 men, and of them
above 1000 lay wounded and sick in the camp.

Here were several regiments which I saw drawn out to their arms that
could not make up above seventy or eighty men, officers and all, and
those half starved with hunger, almost naked, and in a lamentable
condition. From thence I went into the town, and there things were
still in a worse condition, the houses beaten down, the walls and
works ruined, the garrison, by continual duty, reduced from 4500 men
to less than 800, without clothes, money, or provisions, the brave
governor weak with continual fatigue, and the whole face of things in
a miserable case.

The French generals had just sent them 30,000 crowns for present
supply, which heartened them a little, but had not the truce been made
as it was, they must have surrendered upon what terms the Spaniards
had pleased to make them.

Never were two armies in such fear of one another with so little
cause; the Spaniards afraid of the French whom the plague had
devoured, and the French afraid of the Spaniards whom the siege had
almost ruined.

The grief of this mistake, together with the sense of his master,
the Spaniards, leaving him without supplies to complete the siege of
Casale, so affected the Marquis Spinola, that he died for grief, and
in him fell the last of that rare breed of Low Country soldiers, who
gave the world so great and just a character of the Spanish infantry,
as the best soldiers of the world; a character which we see them so
very much degenerated from since, that they hardly deserve the name of
soldiers.

I tarried at Milan the rest of the winter, both for the recovery of my
health, and also for supplies from England.

Here it was I first heard the name of Gustavus Adolphus, the king of
Sweden, who now began his war with the emperor; and while the king
of France was at Lyons, the league with Sweden was made, in which the
French contributed 1,200,000 crowns in money, and 600,000 per annum
to the attempt of Gustavus Adolphus. About this time he landed in
Pomerania, took the towns of Stettin and Stralsund, and from thence
proceeded in that prodigious manner of which I shall have occasion to
be very particular in the prosecution of these Memoirs.

I had indeed no thoughts of seeing that king or his armies. I had
been so roughly handled already, that I had given over the thoughts
of appearing among the fighting people, and resolved in the spring
to pursue my journey to Venice, and so for the rest of Italy. Yet
I cannot deny that as every Gazette gave us some accounts of the
conquests and victories of this glorious prince, it prepossessed my
thoughts with secret wishes of seeing him, but these were so young
and unsettled, that I drew no resolutions from them for a long while
after.

About the middle of January I left Milan and came to Genoa, from
thence by sea to Leghorn, then to Naples, Rome, and Venice, but saw
nothing in Italy that gave me any diversion.

As for what is modern, I saw nothing but lewdness, private murders,
stabbing men at the corner of a street, or in the dark, hiring of
bravos, and the like. These were to me the modern excellencies of
Italy; and I had no gust to antiquities.

'Twas pleasant indeed when I was at Rome to say here stood the
Capitol, there the Colossus of Nero, here was the Amphitheatre of
Titus, there the Aqueduct of----, here the Forum, there the Catacombs,
here the Temple of Venus, there of Jupiter, here the Pantheon, and the
like; but I never designed to write a book. As much as was useful I
kept in my head, and for the rest, I left it to others.

I observed the people degenerated from the ancient glorious
inhabitants, who were generous, brave, and the most valiant of all
nations, to a vicious baseness of soul, barbarous, treacherous,
jealous and revengeful, lewd and cowardly, intolerably proud and
haughty, bigoted to blind, incoherent devotion, and the grossest of
idolatry.

Indeed, I think the unsuitableness of the people made the place
unpleasant to me, for there is so little in a country to recommend it
when the people disgrace it, that no beauties of the creation can make
up for the want of those excellencies which suitable society procure
the defect of. This made Italy a very unpleasant country to me;
the people were the foil to the place, all manner of hateful vices
reigning in their general way of living.

I confess I was not very religious myself, and being come abroad into
the world young enough, might easily have been drawn into evils that
had recommended themselves with any tolerable agreeableness to nature
and common manners; but when wickedness presented itself full-grown in
its grossest freedoms and liberties, it quite took away all the gust
to vice that the devil had furnished me with.

The prodigious stupid bigotry of the people also was irksome to me; I
thought there was something in it very sordid. The entire empire the
priests have over both the souls and bodies of the people, gave me a
specimen of that meanness of spirit, which is nowhere else to be seen
but in Italy, especially in the city of Rome.

At Venice I perceived it quite different, the civil authority having
a visible superiority over the ecclesiastic, and the Church being more
subject there to the State than in any other part of Italy.

For these reasons I took no pleasure in filling my memoirs of Italy
with remarks of places or things. All the antiquities and valuable
remains of the Roman nation are done better than I can pretend to by
such people who made it more their business; as for me, I went to see,
and not to write, and as little thought then of these Memoirs as I ill
furnished myself to write them.

I left Italy in April, and taking the tour of Bavaria, though very
much out of the way, I passed through Munich, Passau, Lintz, and at
last to Vienna.

I came to Vienna the 10th of April 1631, intending to have gone from
thence down the Danube into Hungary, and by means of a pass, which I
had obtained from the English ambassador at Constantinople, I designed
to have seen all the great towns on the Danube, which were then in the
hands of the Turks, and which I had read much of in the history of
the war between the Turks and the Germans; but I was diverted from my
design by the following occasion.

There had been a long bloody war in the empire of Germany for twelve
years, between the emperor, the Duke of Bavaria, the King of
Spain, and the Popish princes and electors on the one side, and the
Protestant princes on the other; and both sides having been exhausted
by the war, and even the Catholics themselves beginning to dislike the
growing power of the house of Austria, 'twas thought all parties were
willing to make peace. Nay, things were brought to that pass that some
of the Popish princes and electors began to talk of making alliances
with the King of Sweden.

Here it is necessary to observe, that the two Dukes of Mecklenburg
having been dispossessed of most of their dominions by the tyranny
of the Emperor Ferdinand, and being in danger of losing the rest,
earnestly solicited the King of Sweden to come to their assistance;
and that prince, as he was related to the house of Mecklenburg, and
especially as he was willing to lay hold of any opportunity to break
with the emperor, against whom he had laid up an implacable prejudice,
was very ready and forward to come to their assistance.

The reasons of his quarrel with the emperor were grounded upon the
Imperialists concerning themselves in the war of Poland, where the
emperor had sent 8000 foot and 2000 horse to join the Polish army
against the king, and had thereby given some check to his arms in that
war.

In pursuance, therefore, of his resolution to quarrel with the
emperor, but more particularly at the instances of the princes
above-named, his Swedish Majesty had landed the year before at
Stralsund with about 12,000 men, and having joined with some forces
which he had left in Polish Prussia, all which did not make 30,000
men, he began a war with the emperor, the greatest in event, filled
with the most famous battles, sieges, and extraordinary actions,
including its wonderful success and happy conclusion, of any war ever
maintained in the world.

The King of Sweden had already taken Stettin, Stralsund, Rostock,
Wismar, and all the strong places on the Baltic, and began to spread
himself in Germany. He had made a league with the French, as I
observed in my story of Saxony; he had now made a treaty with the Duke
of Brandenburg, and, in short, began to be terrible to the empire.

In this conjuncture the emperor called the General Diet of the empire
to be held at Ratisbon, where, as was pretended, all sides were
to treat of peace and to join forces to beat the Swedes out of the
empire. Here the emperor, by a most exquisite management, brought the
affairs of the Diet to a conclusion, exceedingly to his own advantage,
and to the farther oppression of the Protestants; and, in particular,
in that the war against the King of Sweden was to be carried on in
such manner as that the whole burden and charge would lie on the
Protestants themselves, and they be made the instruments to oppose
their best friends. Other matters also ended equally to their
disadvantage, as the methods resolved on to recover the Church lands,
and to prevent the education of the Protestant clergy; and what
remained was referred to another General Diet to be held at
Frankfort-au-Main in August 1631.

I won't pretend to say the other Protestant princes of Germany had
never made any overtures to the King of Sweden to come to their
assistance, but 'tis plain they had entered into no league with him;
that appears from the difficulties which retarded the fixing of the
treaties afterward, both with the Dukes of Brandenburg and Saxony,
which unhappily occasioned the ruin of Magdeburg.

But 'tis plain the Swede was resolved on a war with the emperor. His
Swedish majesty might, and indeed could not but foresee that if he
once showed himself with a sufficient force on the frontiers of the
empire, all the Protestant princes would be obliged by their interest
or by his arms to fall in with him, and this the consequence made
appear to be a just conclusion, for the Electors of Brandenburg and
Saxony were both forced to join with him.

First, they were willing to join with him--at least they could not
find in their hearts to join with the emperor, of whose power they
had such just apprehensions. They wished the Swedes success, and would
have been very glad to have had the work done at another man's charge,
but, like true Germans, they were more willing to be saved than to
save themselves, and therefore hung back and stood upon terms.

Secondly, they were at last forced to it. The first was forced to join
by the King of Sweden himself, who being come so far was not to be
dallied with, and had not the Duke of Brandenburg complied as he did,
he had been ruined by the Swede. The Saxon was driven into the arms
of the Swede by force, for Count Tilly, ravaging his country, made him
comply with any terms to be saved from destruction.

Thus matters stood at the end of the Diet at Ratisbon. The King
of Sweden began to see himself leagued against at the Diet both by
Protestant and Papist; and, as I have often heard his Majesty say
since, he had resolved to try to force them off from the emperor, and
to treat them as enemies equally with the rest if they did not.

But the Protestants convinced him soon after, that though they
were tricked into the outward appearance of a league against him at
Ratisbon, they had no such intentions; and by their ambassadors to him
let him know that they only wanted his powerful assistance to defend
their councils, when they would soon convince him that they had a due
sense of the emperor's designs, and would do their utmost for their
liberty. And these I take to be the first invitations the King of
Sweden had to undertake the Protestant cause as such, and which
entitled him to say he fought for the liberty and religion of the
German nation.

I have had some particular opportunities to hear these things form the
mouths of some of the very princes themselves, and therefore am the
forwarder to relate them; and I place them here because, previous
to the part I acted on this bloody scene, 'tis necessary to let the
reader into some part of that story, and to show him in what manner
and on what occasions this terrible war began.

The Protestants, alarmed at the usage they had met with at the former
Diet, had secretly proposed among themselves to form a general union
or confederacy, for preventing that ruin which they saw, unless some
speedy remedies were applied, would be inevitable. The Elector of
Saxony, the head of the Protestants, a vigorous and politic prince,
was the first that moved it; and the Landgrave of Hesse, a zealous and
gallant prince, being consulted with, it rested a great while between
those two, no method being found practicable to bring it to pass, the
emperor being so powerful in all parts, that they foresaw the petty
princes would not dare to negotiate an affair of such a nature,
being surrounded with the Imperial forces, who by their two generals,
Wallenstein and Tilly, kept them in continual subjection and terror.

This dilemma had like to have stifled the thoughts of the union as
a thing impracticable, when one Seigensius, a Lutheran minister, a
person of great abilities, and one whom the Elector of Saxony made
great use of in matters of policy as well as religion, contrived for
them this excellent expedient.

I had the honour to be acquainted with this gentleman while I was at
Leipsic. It pleased him exceedingly to have been the contriver of so
fine a structure as the Conclusions of Leipsic, and he was glad to be
entertained on that subject. I had the relation from his own mouth,
when, but very modestly, he told me he thought 'twas an inspiration
darted on a sudden into his thoughts, when the Duke of Saxony calling
him into his closet one morning, with a face full of concern, shaking
his head, and looking very earnestly, "What will become of us,
doctor?" said the duke; "we shall all be undone at Frankfort-au-Main."
"Why so, please your highness?" says the doctor. "Why, they will fight
with the King of Sweden with our armies and our money," says the duke,
"and devour our friends and ourselves by the help of our friends and
ourselves." "But what is become of the confederacy, then," said the
doctor, "which your highness had so happily framed in your thoughts,
and which the Landgrave of Hesse was so pleased with?" "Become of it?"
says the duke, "'tis a good thought enough, but 'tis impossible to
bring it to pass among so many members of the Protestant princes as
are to be consulted with, for we neither have time to treat, nor will
half of them dare to negotiate the matter, the Imperialists being
quartered in their very bowels." "But may not some expedient be found
out," says the doctor, "to bring them all together to treat of it in
a general meeting?" "'Tis well proposed," says the duke, "but in what
town or city shall they assemble where the very deputies shall not
be besieged by Tilly or Wallenstein in fourteen days' time, and
sacrificed to the cruelty and fury of the Emperor Ferdinand?" "Will
your highness be the easier in it," replies the doctor, "if a way may
be found out to call such an assembly upon other causes, at which the
emperor may have no umbrage, and perhaps give his assent? You know the
Diet at Frankfort is at hand; 'tis necessary the Protestants should
have an assembly of their own to prepare matters for the General Diet,
and it may be no difficult matter to obtain it." The duke, surprised
with joy at the motion, embraced the doctor with an extraordinary
transport. "Thou hast done it, doctor," said he, and immediately
caused him to draw a form of a letter to the emperor, which he did
with the utmost dexterity of style, in which he was a great master,
representing to his Imperial Majesty that, in order to put an end to
the troubles of Germany, his Majesty would be pleased to permit the
Protestant princes of the empire to hold a Diet to themselves, to
consider of such matters as they were to treat of at the General
Diet, in order to conform themselves to the will and pleasure of his
Imperial Majesty, to drive out foreigners, and settle a lasting peace
in the empire. He also insinuated something of their resolutions
unanimously to give their suffrages in favour of the King of Hungary
at the election of a king of the Romans, a thing which he knew the
emperor had in his thought, and would push at with all his might at
the Diet. This letter was sent, and the bait so neatly concealed, that
the Electors of Bavaria and Mentz, the King of Hungary, and several
of the Popish princes, not foreseeing that the ruin of them all lay in
the bottom of it, foolishly advised the emperor to consent to it.

In consenting to this the emperor signed his own destruction, for here
began the conjunction of the German Protestants with the Swede, which
was the fatalest blow to Ferdinand, and which he could never recover.

Accordingly the Diet was held at Leipsic, February 8, 1630, where the
Protestants agreed on several heads for their mutual defence,
which were the grounds of the following war. These were the famous
Conclusions of Leipsic, which so alarmed the emperor and the whole
empire, that to crush it in the beginning, the emperor commanded Count
Tilly immediately to fall upon the Landgrave of Hesse and the Duke of
Saxony as the principal heads of the union; but it was too late.

The Conclusions were digested into ten heads:--

1. That since their sins had brought God's judgments upon the whole
Protestant Church, they should command public prayers to be made to
Almighty God for the diverting the calamities that attended them.

2. That a treaty of peace might be set on foot, in order to come to a
right understanding with the Catholic princes.

3. That a time for such a treaty being obtained, they should appoint
an assembly of delegates to meet preparatory to the treaty.

4. That all their complaints should be humbly represented to his
Imperial Majesty and the Catholic Electors, in order to a peaceable
accommodation.

5. That they claim the protection of the emperor, according to the
laws of the empire, and the present emperor's solemn oath and promise.

6. That they would appoint deputies who should meet at certain
times to consult of their common interest, and who should be always
empowered to conclude of what should be thought needful for their
safety.

7. That they will raise a competent force to maintain and defend their
liberties, rights, and religion.

8. That it is agreeable to the Constitution of the empire, concluded
in the Diet at Augsburg, to do so.

9. That the arming for their necessary defence shall by no means
hinder their obedience to his Imperial Majesty, but that they will
still continue their loyalty to him.

10. They agree to proportion their forces, which in all amounted to
70,000 men.

The emperor, exceedingly startled at the Conclusions, issued out a
severe proclamation or ban against them, which imported much the
same thing as a declaration of war, and commanded Tilly to begin,
and immediately to fall on the Duke of Saxony with all the fury
imaginable, as I have already observed.

Here began the flame to break out; for upon the emperor's ban, the
Protestants send away to the King of Sweden for succour.

His Swedish Majesty had already conquered Mecklenburg, and part of
Pomerania, and was advancing with his victorious troops, increased
by the addition of some regiments raised in those parts, in order to
carry on the war against the emperor, having designed to follow up
the Oder into Silesia, and so to push the war home to the emperor's
hereditary countries of Austria and Bohemia, when the first messengers
came to him in this case; but this changed his measures, and brought
him to the frontiers of Brandenburg resolved to answer the desires
of the Protestants. But here the Duke of Brandenburg began to halt,
making some difficulties and demanding terms, which drove the king to
use some extremities with him, and stopped the Swedes for a while,
who had otherwise been on the banks of the Elbe as soon as Tilly,
the Imperial general, had entered Saxony, which if they had done, the
miserable destruction of Magdeburg had been prevented, as I observed
before. The king had been invited into the union, and when he first
came back from the banks of the Oder he had accepted it, and was
preparing to back it with all his power.

The Duke of Saxony had already a good army which he had with infinite
diligence recruited, and mustered them under the cannon of Leipsic.
The King of Sweden having, by his ambassador at Leipsic, entered into
the union of the Protestants, was advancing victoriously to their aid,
just as Count Tilly had entered the Duke of Saxony's dominions. The
fame of the Swedish conquests, and of the hero who commanded them,
shook my resolution of travelling into Turkey, being resolved to see
the conjunction of the Protestant armies, and before the fire was
broke out too far to take the advantage of seeing both sides.

While I remained at Vienna, uncertain which way I should proceed, I
remember I observed they talked of the King of Sweden as a prince of
no consideration, one that they might let go on and tire himself in
Mecklenburg and thereabout, till they could find leisure to deal with
him, and then might be crushed as they pleased; but 'tis never safe
to despise an enemy, so this was not an enemy to be despised, as they
afterwards found.

As to the Conclusions of Leipsic, indeed, at first they gave the
Imperial court some uneasiness, but when they found the Imperial
armies, began to fright the members out of the union, and that the
several branches had no considerable forces on foot, it was the
general discourse at Vienna, that the union at Leipsic only gave
the emperor an opportunity to crush absolutely the Dukes of Saxony,
Brandenburg, and the Landgrave of Hesse, and they looked upon it as a
thing certain.

I never saw any real concern in their faces at Vienna till news came
to court that the King of Sweden had entered into the union; but as
this made them very uneasy, they began to move the powerfulest methods
possible to divert this storm; and upon this news Tilly was hastened
to fall into Saxony before this union could proceed to a conjunction
of forces. This was certainly a very good resolution, and no measure
could have been more exactly concerted, had not the diligence of the
Saxons prevented it.

The gathering of this storm, which from a cloud began to spread over
the empire, and from the little duchy of Mecklenburg began to threaten
all Germany, absolutely determined me, as I noted before, as to
travelling, and laying aside the thoughts of Hungary, I resolved, if
possible, to see the King of Sweden's army.

I parted from Vienna the middle of May, and took post for Great Glogau
in Silesia, as if I had purposed to pass into Poland, but designing
indeed to go down the Oder to Custrim in the marquisate of
Brandenburg, and so to Berlin. But when I came to the frontiers of
Silesia, though I had passes, I could go no farther, the guards on
all the frontiers were so strict, so I was obliged to come back into
Bohemia, and went to Prague. From hence I found I could easily pass
through the Imperial provinces to the lower Saxony, and accordingly
took passes for Hamburg, designing, however, to use them no farther
than I found occasion.

By virtue of these passes I got into the Imperial army, under Count
Tilly, then at the siege of Magdeburg, May the 2nd.

I confess I did not foresee the fate of this city, neither, I believe,
did Count Tilly himself expect to glut his fury with so entire a
desolation, much less did the people expect it. I did believe they
must capitulate, and I perceived by discourse in the army that Tilly
would give them but very indifferent conditions; but it fell out
otherwise. The treaty of surrender was, as it were, begun, nay, some
say concluded, when some of the out-guards of the Imperialists finding
the citizens had abandoned the guards of the works, and looked to
themselves with less diligence than usual, they broke in, carried an
half-moon, sword in hand, with little resistance; and though it was
a surprise on both sides, the citizens neither fearing, nor the army
expecting the occasion, the garrison, with as much resolution as could
be expected under such a fright, flew to the walls, twice beat the
Imperialists off, but fresh men coming up, and the administrator of
Magdeburg himself being wounded and taken, the enemy broke in, took
the city by storm, and entered with such terrible fury, that,
without respect to age or condition, they put all the garrison and
inhabitants, man, woman, and child, to the sword, plundered the city,
and when they had done this set it on fire.

This calamity sure was the dreadfulest sight that ever I saw; the
rage of the Imperial soldiers was most intolerable, and not to be
expressed. Of 25,000, some said 30,000 people, there was not a soul to
be seen alive, till the flames drove those that were hid in vaults and
secret places to seek death in the streets rather than perish in the
fire. Of these miserable creatures some were killed too by the furious
soldiers, but at last they saved the lives of such as came out of
their cellars and holes, and so about two thousand poor desperate
creatures were left. The exact number of those that perished in
this city could never be known, because those the soldiers had first
butchered the flames afterwards devoured.

I was on the outer side of the Elbe when this dreadful piece of
butchery was done. The city of Magdeburg had a sconce or fort over
against it called the toll-house, which joined to the city by a very
fine bridge of boats. This fort was taken by the Imperialists a few
days before, and having a mind to see it, and the rather because from
thence I could have a very good view of the city, I was going over
Tilley's bridge of boats to view this fort. About ten o'clock in the
morning I perceived they were storming by the firing, and immediately
all ran to the works; I little thought of the taking the city, but
imagined it might be some outwork attacked, for we all expected
the city would surrender that day, or next, and they might have
capitulated upon very good terms.

Being upon the works of the fort, on a sudden I heard the dreadfulest
cry raised in the city that can be imagined; 'tis not possible to
express the manner of it, and I could see the women and children
running about the streets in a most lamentable condition.

The city wall did not run along the side where the river was with
so great a height, but we could plainly see the market-place and the
several streets which run down to the river. In about an hour's time
after this first cry all was in confusion; there was little shooting,
the execution was all cutting of throats and mere house murders. The
resolute garrison, with the brave Baron Falkenberg, fought it out
to the last, and were cut in pieces, and by this time the Imperial
soldiers having broke open the gates and entered on all sides, the
slaughter was very dreadful. We could see the poor people in crowds
driven down the streets, flying from the fury of the soldiers, who
followed butchering them as fast as they could, and refused mercy to
anybody, till driving them to the river's edge, the desperate wretches
would throw themselves into the river, where thousands of them
perished, especially women and children. Several men that could swim
got over to our side, where the soldiers not heated with fight gave
them quarter, and took them up, and I cannot but do this justice to
the German officers in the fort: they had five small flat boats, and
they gave leave to the soldiers to go off in them, and get what booty
they could, but charged them not to kill anybody, but take them all
prisoners.

Nor was their humanity ill rewarded, for the soldiers, wisely avoiding
those places where their fellows were employed in butchering the
miserable people, rowed to other places, where crowds of people stood
crying out for help, and expecting to be every minute either drowned
or murdered; of these at sundry times they fetched over near six
hundred, but took care to take in none but such as offered them good
pay.

Never was money or jewels of greater service than now, for those that
had anything of that sort to offer were soonest helped.

There was a burgher of the town who, seeing a boat coming near him,
but out of his call, by the help of a speaking trumpet, told the
soldiers in it he would give them 20,000 dollars to fetch him off.
They rowed close to the shore, and got him with his wife and six
children into the boat, but such throngs of people got about the boat
that had like to have sunk her, so that the soldiers were fain to
drive a great many out again by main force, and while they were doing
this some of the enemies coming down the street desperately drove them
all into the water.

The boat, however, brought the burgher and his wife and children safe,
and though they had not all that wealth about them, yet in jewels and
money he gave them so much as made all the fellows very rich.

I cannot pretend to describe the cruelty of this day: the town by
five in the afternoon was all in a flame; the wealth consumed was
inestimable, and a loss to the very conqueror. I think there was
little or nothing left but the great church and about a hundred
houses.

This was a sad welcome into the army for me, and gave me a horror and
aversion to the emperor's people, as well as to his cause. I quitted
the camp the third day after this execution, while the fire was hardly
out in the city; and from thence getting safe-conduct to pass into the
Palatinate, I turned out of the road at a small village on the Elbe,
called Emerfield, and by ways and towns I can give but small account
of, having a boor for our guide, whom we could hardly understand, I
arrived at Leipsic on the 17th of May.

We found the elector intense upon the strengthening of his army, but
the people in the greatest terror imaginable, every day expecting
Tilly with the German army, who by his cruelty at Magdeburg was become
so dreadful to the Protestants that they expected no mercy wherever he
came.

The emperor's power was made so formidable to all the Protestants,
particularly since the Diet at Ratisbon left them in a worse case
than it found them, that they had not only formed the Conclusions of
Leipsic, which all men looked on as the effect of desperation rather
than any probable means of their deliverance, but had privately
implored the protection and assistance of foreign powers, and
particularly the King of Sweden, from whom they had promises of a
speedy and powerful assistance. And truly if the Swede had not with
a very strong hand rescued them, all their Conclusions at Leipsic had
served but to hasten their ruin. I remember very well when I was in
the Imperial army they discoursed with such contempt of the forces
of the Protestant, that not only the Imperialists but the Protestants
themselves gave them up as lost. The emperor had not less than 200,000
men in several armies on foot, who most of them were on the back of
the Protestants in every corner. If Tilly did but write a threatening
letter to any city or prince of the union, they presently submitted,
renounced the Conclusions of Leipsic, and received Imperial garrisons,
as the cities of Ulm and Memmingen, the duchy of Wirtemberg, and
several others, and almost all Suaben.

Only the Duke of Saxony and the Landgrave of Hesse upheld the drooping
courage of the Protestants, and refused all terms of peace, slighted
all the threatenings of the Imperial generals, and the Duke of
Brandenburg was brought in afterward almost by force.

The Duke of Saxony mustered his forces under the walls of Leipsic,
and I having returned to Leipsic, two days before, saw them pass the
review. The duke, gallantly mounted, rode through the ranks, attended
by his field-marshal Arnheim, and seemed mighty well pleased with
them, and indeed the troops made a very fine appearance; but I that
had seen Tilly's army and his old weather-beaten soldiers, whose
discipline and exercises were so exact, and their courage so often
tried, could not look on the Saxon army without some concern for them
when I considered who they had to deal with. Tilly's men were rugged
surly fellows, their faces had an air of hardy courage, mangled with
wounds and scars, their armour showed the bruises of musket bullets,
and the rust of the winter storms. I observed of them their clothes
were always dirty, but their arms were clean and bright; they were
used to camp in the open fields, and sleep in the frosts and rain;
their horses were strong and hardy like themselves, and well taught
their exercises; the soldiers knew their business so exactly that
general orders were enough; every private man was fit to command, and
their wheelings, marchings, counter-marchings and exercise were done
with such order and readiness, that the distinct words of command
were hardly of any use among them; they were flushed with victory, and
hardly knew what it was to fly.

There had passed some messages between Tilly and the duke, and he gave
always such ambiguous answers as he thought might serve to gain time;
but Tilly was not to be put off with words, and drawing his army
towards Saxony, sends four propositions to him to sign, and demands an
immediate reply. The propositions were positive.

1. To cause his troops to enter into the emperor's service, and to
march in person with them against the King of Sweden.

2. To give the Imperial army quarters in his country, and supply them
with necessary provisions.

3. To relinquish the union of Leipsic, and disown the ten Conclusions.

4. To make restitution of the goods and lands of the Church.

The duke being pressed by Tilly's trumpeter for an immediate answer
sat all night, and part of the next day, in council with his privy
councillors, debating what reply to give him, which at last was
concluded, in short, that he would live and die in defence of the
Protestant religion, and the Conclusions of Leipsic, and bade Tilly
defiance.

The die being thus cast, he immediately decamped with his whole army
for Torgau, fearing that Tilly should get there before him, and so
prevent his conjunction with the Swede. The duke had not yet concluded
any positive treaty with the King of Swedeland, and the Duke of
Brandenburg having made some difficulty of joining, they both stood
on some niceties till they had like to have ruined themselves all at
once.

Brandenburg had given up the town of Spandau to the king by a former
treaty to secure a retreat for his army, and the king was advanced
as far as Frankfort-upon-the-Oder, when on a sudden some small
difficulties arising, Brandenburg seems cold in the matter, and with
a sort of indifference demands to have his town of Spandau restored to
him again. Gustavus Adolphus, who began presently to imagine the duke
had made his peace with the emperor, and so would either be his enemy
or pretend a neutrality, generously delivered him his town of Spandau,
but immediately turns about, and with his whole army besieges him in
his capital city of Berlin. This brought the duke to know his error,
and by the interpositions of the ladies, the Queen of Sweden being the
duke's sister, the matter was accommodated, and the duke joined his
forces with the king.

But the duke of Saxony had like to have been undone by this delay,
for the Imperialists, under Count de Furstenberg, were entered his
country, and had possessed themselves of Halle, and Tilly was on
his march to join him, as he afterwards did, and ravaging the
whole country laid siege to Leipsic itself. The duke driven to this
extremity rather flies to the Swede than treats with him, and on the
2nd of September the duke's army joined with the King of Sweden.

I had not come to Leipsic but to see the Duke of Saxony's army, and
that being marched, as I have said, for Torgau, I had no business
there, but if I had, the approach of Tilly and the Imperial army was
enough to hasten me away, for I had no occasion to be besieged there;
so on the 27th of August I left the town, as several of the principal
inhabitants had done before, and more would have done had not the
governor published a proclamation against it, and besides they knew
not whither to fly, for all places were alike exposed. The poor people
were under dreadful apprehensions of a siege, and of the merciless
usage of the Imperial soldiers, the example of Magdeburg being fresh
before them, the duke and his army gone from them, and the town,
though well furnished, but indifferently fortified.

In this condition I left them, buying up stores of provisions,
working hard to scour their moats, set up palisadoes, repair their
fortifications, and preparing all things for a siege; and following
the Saxon army to Torgau, I continued in the camp till a few days
before they joined the King of Sweden.

I had much ado to persuade my companion from entering into the
service of the Duke of Saxony, one of whose colonels, with whom we had
contracted a particular acquaintance, offering him a commission to be
cornet in one of the old regiments of horse; but the difference I had
observed between this new army and Tilly's old troops had made such
an impression on me, that I confess I had yet no manner of inclination
for the service, and therefore persuaded him to wait a while till we
had seen a little further into affairs, and particularly till we had
seen the Swedish army which we had heard so much of.

The difficulties which the Elector-Duke of Saxony made of joining with
the king were made up by a treaty concluded with the king on the 2nd
of September at Coswig, a small town on the Elbe, whither the king's
army was arrived the night before; for General Tilly being now entered
into the duke's country, had plundered and ruined all the lower part
of it, and was now actually besieging the capital city of Leipsic.
These necessities made almost any conditions easy to him; the greatest
difficulty was that the King of Sweden demanded the absolute command
of the army, which the duke submitted to with less goodwill than he
had reason to do, the king's experience and conduct considered.

I had not patience to attend the conclusions of their particular
treaties, but as soon as ever the passage was clear I quitted the
Saxon camp and went to see the Swedish army. I fell in with the
out-guards of the Swedes at a little town called Beltsig, on the river
Wersa, just as they were relieving the guards and going to march, and
having a pass from the English ambassador was very well received by
the officer who changed the guards, and with him I went back into
the army. By nine in the morning the army was in full march, the king
himself at the head of them on a grey pad, and riding from one brigade
to another, ordered the march of every line himself.

When I saw the Swedish troops, their exact discipline, their order,
the modesty and familiarity of their officers, and the regular living
of the soldiers, their camp seemed a well-ordered city; the meanest
country woman with her market ware was as safe from violence as in the
streets of Vienna. There were no women in the camp but such as being
known to the provosts to be the wives of the soldiers, who were
necessary for washing linen, taking care of the soldiers' clothes, and
dressing their victuals.

The soldiers were well clad, not gay, furnished with excellent arms,
and exceedingly careful of them; and though they did not seem so
terrible as I thought Tilly's men did when I first saw them, yet the
figure they made, together with what we had heard of them, made them
seem to me invincible: the discipline and order of their marchings,
camping, and exercise was excellent and singular, and, which was to
be seen in no armies but the king's, his own skill, judgment, and
vigilance having added much to the general conduct of armies then in
use.

As I met the Swedes on their march I had no opportunity to acquaint
myself with anybody till after the conjunction of the Saxon army,
and then it being but four days to the great battle of Leipsic, our
acquaintance was but small, saving what fell out accidentally by
conversation.

I met with several gentlemen in the king's army who spoke English very
well; besides that there were three regiments of Scots in the army,
the colonels whereof I found were extraordinarily esteemed by the
king, as the Lord Reay, Colonel Lumsdell, and Sir John Hepburn. The
latter of these, after I had by an accident become acquainted with, I
found had been for many years acquainted with my father, and on that
account I received a great deal of civility from him, which afterwards
grew into a kind of intimate friendship. He was a complete soldier
indeed, and for that reason so well beloved by that gallant king, that
he hardly knew how to go about any great action without him.

It was impossible for me now to restrain my young comrade from
entering into the Swedish service, and indeed everything was so
inviting that I could not blame him. A captain in Sir John Hepburn's
regiment had picked acquaintance with him, and he having as much
gallantry in his face as real courage in his heart, the captain had
persuaded him to take service, and promised to use his interest to get
him a company in the Scotch brigade. I had made him promise me not
to part from me in my travels without my consent, which was the only
obstacle to his desires of entering into the Swedish pay; and being
one evening in the captain's tent with him and discoursing very freely
together, the captain asked him very short but friendly, and looking
earnestly at me, "Is this the gentleman, Mr Fielding, that has done
so much prejudice to the King of Sweden's service?" I was doubly
surprised at the expression, and at the colonel, Sir John Hepburn,
coming at that very moment into the tent. The colonel hearing
something of the question, but knowing nothing of the reason of it,
any more than as I seemed a little to concern myself at it, yet after
the ceremony due to his character was over, would needs know what I
had done to hinder his Majesty's service. "So much truly," says the
captain, "that if his Majesty knew it he would think himself very
little beholden to him." "I am sorry, sir," said I, "that I should
offend in anything, who am but a stranger; but if you would please to
inform me, I would endeavour to alter anything in my behaviour that is
prejudicial to any one, much less to his Majesty's service." "I shall
take you at your word, sir," says the captain; "the King of Sweden,
sir, has a particular request to you." "I should be glad to know two
things, sir," said I; "first, how that can be possible, since I am
not yet known to any man in the army, much less to his Majesty? and
secondly, what the request can be?" "Why, sir, his Majesty desires you
would not hinder this gentleman from entering into his service, who
it seems desires nothing more, if he may have your consent to it." "I
have too much honour for his Majesty," returned I, "to deny anything
which he pleases to command me; but methinks 'tis some hardship you
should make that the king's order, which 'tis very probable he knows
nothing of." Sir John Hepburn took the case up something gravely, and
drinking a glass of Leipsic beer to the captain, said, "Come, captain,
don't press these gentlemen; the king desires no man's service but
what is purely volunteer." So we entered into other discourse, and the
colonel perceiving by my talk that I had seen Tilly's army, was mighty
curious in his questions, and seeming very well satisfied with the
account I gave him.

The next day the army having passed the Elbe at Wittenberg, and joined
the Saxon army near Torgau, his Majesty caused both armies to draw
up in battalia, giving every brigade the same post in the lines as he
purposed to fight in. I must do the memory of that glorious general
this honour, that I never saw an army drawn up with so much variety,
order, and exact regularity since, though I have seen many armies
drawn up by some of the greatest captains of the age. The order by
which his men were directed to flank and relieve one another, the
methods of receiving one body of men if disordered into another, and
rallying one squadron without disordering another was so admirable;
the horse everywhere flanked lined and defended by the foot, and the
foot by the horse, and both by the cannon, was such that if those
orders were but as punctually obeyed, 'twere impossible to put an army
so modelled into any confusion.

The view being over, and the troops returned to their camps, the
captain with whom we drank the day before meeting me told me I must
come and sup with him in his tent, where he would ask my pardon for
the affront he gave me before. I told him he needed not put himself
to the trouble, I was not affronted at all; that I would do myself the
honour to wait on him, provided he would give me his word not to speak
any more of it as an affront.

We had not been a quarter of an hour in his tent but Sir John Hepburn
came in again, and addressing to me, told me he was glad to find me
there; that he came to the captain's tent to inquire how to send to
me; and that I must do him the honour to go with him to wait on the
king, who had a mind to hear the account I could give him of the
Imperial army from my own mouth. I must confess I was at some loss in
my mind how to make my address to his Majesty, but I had heard so much
of the conversable temper of the king, and his particular sweetness of
humour with the meanest soldier, that I made no more difficulty, but
having paid my respects to Colonel Hepburn, thanked him for the honour
he had done me, and offered to rise and wait upon him. "Nay," says
the Colonel, "we will eat first, for I find Gourdon," which was the
captain's name, "has got something for supper, and the king's order is
at seven o'clock." So we went to supper, and Sir John, becoming very
friendly, must know my name; which, when I had told him, and of what
place and family, he rose from his seat, and embracing me, told me he
knew my father very well, and had been intimately acquainted with
him, and told me several passages wherein my father had particularly
obliged him. After this we went to supper, and the king's health being
drank round, the colonel moved the sooner because he had a mind to
talk with me.

When we were going to the king he inquired of me where I had been, and
what occasion brought me to the army. I told him the short history of
my travels, and that I came hither from Vienna on purpose to see the
King of Sweden and his army. He asked me if there was any service he
could do me, by which he meant, whether I desired an employment.
I pretended not to take him so, but told him the protection his
acquaintance would afford me was more than I could have asked, since I
might thereby have opportunity to satisfy my curiosity, which was the
chief end of my coming abroad. He perceiving by this that I had no
mind to be a soldier, told me very kindly I should command him in
anything; that his tent and equipage, horses and servants should
always have orders to be at my service; but that as a piece of
friendship, he would advise me to retire to some place distant from
the army, for that the army would march to-morrow, and the king was
resolved to fight General Tilly, and he would not have me hazard
myself; that if I thought fit to take his advice, he would have me
take that interval to see the court at Berlin, whither he would send
one of his servants to wait on me.

His discourse was too kind not to extort the tenderest acknowledgment
from me that I was capable of. I told him his care of me was so
obliging, that I knew not what return to make him, but if he pleased
to leave me to my choice I desired no greater favour than to trail a
pike under his command in the ensuing battle. "I can never answer it
to your father," says he, "to suffer you to expose yourself so far."
I told him my father would certainly acknowledge his friendship in the
proposal made me; but I believed he knew him better than to think he
would be well pleased with me if I should accept of it; that I was
sure my father would have rode post five hundred miles to have been
at such a battle under such a general, and it should never be told
him that his son had rode fifty miles to be out of it. He seemed to
be something concerned at the resolution I had taken, and replied very
quickly upon me, that he approved very well of my courage; "but," says
he, "no man gets any credit by running upon needless adventures, nor
loses any by shunning hazards which he has no order for. 'Tis enough,"
says he, "for a gentleman to behave well when he is commanded upon any
service; I have had fighting enough," says he, "upon these points
of honour, and I never got anything but reproof for it from the king
himself."

"Well, sir," said I, "however if a man expects to rise by his valour,
he must show it somewhere; and if I were to have any command in an
army, I would first try whether I could deserve it. I have never yet
seen any service, and must have my induction some time or other. I
shall never have a better schoolmaster than yourself, nor a better
school than such an army." "Well," says Sir John, "but you may have
the same school and the same teaching after this battle is over; for
I must tell you beforehand, this will be a bloody touch. Tilly has
a great army of old lads that are used to boxing, fellows with
iron faces, and 'tis a little too much to engage so hotly the first
entrance into the wars. You may see our discipline this winter, and
make your campaign with us next summer, when you need not fear but
we shall have fighting enough, and you will be better acquainted with
things. We do never put our common soldiers upon pitched battles the
first campaign, but place our new men in garrisons and try them in
parties first." "Sir," said I, with a little more freedom, "I believe
I shall not make a trade of the war, and therefore need not serve an
apprenticeship to it; 'tis a hard battle where none escapes. If I
come off, I hope I shall not disgrace you, and if not, 'twill be some
satisfaction to my father to hear his son died fighting under the
command of Sir John Hepburn, in the army of the King of Sweden, and I
desire no better epitaph upon my tomb."

"Well," says Sir John, and by this time we were just come to the
king's quarters, and the guards calling to us interrupted his reply;
so we went into the courtyard where the king was lodged, which was in
an indifferent house of one of the burghers of Dieben, and Sir John
stepping up, met the king coming down some steps into a large room
which looked over the town wall into a field where part of the
artillery was drawn up. Sir John Hepburn sent his man presently to me
to come up, which I did; and Sir John without any ceremony carries me
directly up to the king, who was leaning on his elbow in the window.
The king turning about, "This is the English gentleman," says Sir
John, "who I told your Majesty had been in the Imperial army." "How
then did he get hither," says the king, "without being taken by the
scouts?" At which question, Sir John saying nothing, "By a pass,
and please your Majesty, from the English ambassador's secretary at
Vienna," said I, making a profound reverence. "Have you then been at
Vienna?" says the king. "Yes, and please your Majesty," said I; upon
which the king, folding up a letter he had in his hand, seemed much
more earnest to talk about Vienna than about Tilly. "And, pray, what
news had you at Vienna?" "Nothing, sir," said I, "but daily accounts
one in the neck of another of their own misfortunes, and your
Majesty's conquests, which makes a very melancholy court there." "But,
pray," said the king, "what is the common opinion there about these
affairs?" "The common people are terrified to the last degree," said
I, "and when your Majesty took Frankfort-upon-Oder, if your army had
marched but twenty miles into Silesia, half the people would have run
out of Vienna, and I left them fortifying the city." "They need not,"
replied the king, smiling; "I have no design to trouble them, it is
the Protestant countries I must be for."

Upon this the Duke of Saxony entered the room, and finding the king
engaged, offered to retire; but the king, beckoning with his hand,
called to him in French; "Cousin," says the king, "this gentleman has
been travelling and comes from Vienna," and so made me repeat what
I had said before; at which the king went on with me, and Sir John
Hepburn informing his Majesty that I spoke High Dutch, he changed
his language, and asked me in Dutch where it was that I saw General
Tilly's army. I told his Majesty at the siege of Magdeburg. "At
Magdeburg!" said the king, shaking his head; "Tilly must answer to me
some day for that city, and if not to me, to a greater King than I.
Can you guess what army he had with him?" said the king. "He had two
armies with him," said I, "but one I suppose will do your Majesty
no harm." "Two armies!" said the king. "Yes, sir, he has one army
of about 26,000 men," said I, "and another of about 15,000 women and
their attendants," at which the king laughed heartily. "Ay, ay," says
the king, "those 15,000 do us as much harm as the 26,000, for they
eat up the country, and devour the poor Protestants more than the men.
Well," says the king, "do they talk of fighting us?" "They talk big
enough, sir," said I, "but your Majesty has not been so often fought
with as beaten in their discourse." "I know not for the men," says the
king, "but the old man is as likely to do it as talk of it, and I hope
to try them in a day or two."

The king inquired after that several matters of me about the Low
Countries, the Prince of Orange, and of the court and affairs in
England; and Sir John Hepburn informing his Majesty that I was the son
of an English gentleman of his acquaintance, the king had the goodness
to ask him what care he had taken of me against the day of battle.
Upon which Sir John repeated to him the discourse we had together by
the way; the king seeming particularly pleased with it, began to take
me to task himself. "You English gentlemen," says he, "are too
forward in the wars, which makes you leave them too soon again." "Your
Majesty," replied I, "makes war in so pleasant a manner as makes
all the world fond of fighting under your conduct." "Not so pleasant
neither," says the king, "here's a man can tell you that sometimes it
is not very pleasant." "I know not much of the warrior, sir," said
I, "nor of the world, but if always to conquer be the pleasure of the
war, your Majesty's soldiers have all that can be desired." "Well,"
says the king, "but however, considering all things, I think you would
do well to take the advice Sir John Hepburn has given you." "Your
Majesty may command me to anything, but where your Majesty and so many
gallant gentlemen hazard their lives, mine is not worth mentioning;
and I should not dare to tell my father at my return into England
that I was in your Majesty's army, and made so mean a figure that
your Majesty would not permit me to fight under that royal standard."
"Nay," replied the king, "I lay no commands upon you, but you are
young." "I can never die, sir," said I, "with more honour than in your
Majesty's service." I spake this with so much freedom, and his Majesty
was so pleased with it, that he asked me how I would choose to serve,
on horseback or on foot. I told his Majesty I should be glad to
receive any of his Majesty's commands, but if I had not that honour I
had purposed to trail a pike under Sir John Hepburn, who had done me
so much honour as to introduce me into his Majesty's presence. "Do so,
then," replied the king, and turning to Sir John Hepburn, said, "and
pray, do you take care of him." At which, overcome with the goodness
of his discourse, I could not answer a word, but made him a profound
reverence and retired.

The next day but one, being the 7th of September, before day the army
marched from Dieben to a large field about a mile from Leipsic, where
we found Tilly's army in full battalia in admirable order, which made
a show both glorious and terrible. Tilly, like a fair gamester, had
taken up but one side of the plain, and left the other free, and all
the avenues open for the king's army; nor did he stir to the charge
till the king's army was completely drawn up and advanced toward him.
He had in his army 44,000 old soldiers, every way answerable to what
I have said of them before; and I shall only add, a better army, I
believe, never was so soundly beaten.

The king was not much inferior in force, being joined with the Saxons,
who were reckoned 22,000 men, and who drew up on the left, making a
main battle and two wings, as the king did on the right.

The king placed himself at the right wing of his own horse, Gustavus
Horn had the main battle of the Swedes, the Duke of Saxony had the
main battle of his own troops, and General Arnheim the right wing of
his horse. The second line of the Swedes consisted of the two Scotch
brigades, and three Swedish, with the Finland horse in the wings.

In the beginning of the fight, Tilly's right wing charged with such
irresistible fury upon the left of the king's army where the Saxons
were posted, that nothing could withstand them. The Saxons fled amain,
and some of them carried the news over the country that all was lost,
and the king's army overthrown; and indeed it passed for an oversight
with some that the king did not place some of his old troops among the
Saxons, who were new-raised men. The Saxons lost here near 2000 men,
and hardly ever showed their faces again all the battle, except some
few of their horse.

I was posted with my comrade, the captain, at the head of three
Scottish regiments of foot, commanded by Sir John Hepburn, with
express directions from the colonel to keep by him. Our post was in
the second line, as a reserve to the King of Sweden's main battle,
and, which was strange, the main battle, which consisted of four great
brigades of foot, were never charged during the whole fight; and yet
we, who had the reserve, were obliged to endure the whole weight
of the Imperial army. The occasion was, the right wing of the
Imperialists having defeated the Saxons, and being eager in the chase,
Tilly, who was an old soldier, and ready to prevent all mistakes,
forbids any pursuit. "Let them go," says he, "but let us beat the
Swedes, or we do nothing." Upon this the victorious troops fell in
upon the flank of the king's army, which, the Saxons being fled, lay
open to them. Gustavus Horn commanded the left wing of the Swedes, and
having first defeated some regiments which charged him, falls in upon
the rear of the Imperial right wing, and separates them from the van,
who were advanced a great way forward in pursuit of the Saxons, and
having routed the said rear or reserve, falls on upon Tilly's main
battle, and defeated part of them; the other part was gone in chase of
the Saxons, and now also returned, fell in upon the rear of the left
wing of the Swedes, charging them in the flank, for they drew up upon
the very ground which the Saxons had quitted. This changed the whole
front, and made the Swedes face about to the left, and made a great
front on their flank to make this good. Our brigades, who were placed
as a reserve for the main battle, were, by special order from the
king, wheeled about to the left, and placed for the right of this new
front to charge the Imperialists; they were about 12,000 of their best
foot, besides horse, and flushed with the execution of the Saxons,
fell on like furies. The king by this time had almost defeated the
Imperialists' left wing; their horse, with more haste than good speed,
had charged faster than their foot could follow, and having broke into
the king's first line, he let them go, where, while the second line
bears the shock, and bravely resisted them, the king follows them on
the crupper with thirteen troops of horse, and some musketeers, by
which being hemmed in, they were all cut down in a moment as it were,
and the army never disordered with them. This fatal blow to the left
wing gave the king more leisure to defeat the foot which followed, and
to send some assistance to Gustavus Horn in his left wing, who had his
hands full with the main battle of the Imperialists.

But those troops who, as I said, had routed the Saxons, being called
off from the pursuit, had charged our flank, and were now grown very
strong, renewed the battle in a terrible manner. Here it was I saw our
men go to wreck. Colonel Hall, a brave soldier, commanded the rear of
the Swede's left wing; he fought like a lion, but was slain, and most
of his regiment cut off, though not unrevenged, for they entirely
ruined Furstenberg's regiment of foot. Colonel Cullembach, with his
regiment of horse, was extremely overlaid also, and the colonel and
many brave officers killed, and in short all that wing was shattered,
and in an ill condition.

In this juncture came the king, and having seen what havoc the enemy
made of Cullembach's troops, he comes riding along the front of our
three brigades, and himself led us on to the charge; the colonel of
his guards, the Baron Dyvel, was shot dead just as the king had given
him some orders. When the Scots advanced, seconded by some regiments
of horse which the king also sent to the charge, the bloodiest fight
began that ever men beheld, for the Scottish brigades, giving fire
three ranks at a time over one another's heads, poured in their shot
so thick, that the enemy were cut down like grass before a scythe;
and following into the thickest of their foot with the clubs of their
muskets made a most dreadful slaughter, and yet was there no flying.
Tilly's men might be killed and knocked down, but no man turned his
back, nor would give an inch of ground, but as they were wheeled, or
marched, or retreated by their officers.

There was a regiment of cuirassiers which stood whole to the last,
and fought like lions; they went ranging over the field when all
their army was broken, and nobody cared for charging them; they were
commanded by Baron Kronenburg, and at last went off from the battle
whole. These were armed in black armour from head to foot, and they
carried off their general. About six o'clock the field was cleared of
the enemy, except at one place on the king's side, where some of them
rallied, and though they knew all was lost would take no quarter, but
fought it out to the last man, being found dead the next day in rank
and file as they were drawn up.

I had the good fortune to receive no hurt in this battle, excepting
a small scratch on the side of my neck by the push of a pike; but my
friend received a very dangerous wound when the battle was as good as
over. He had engaged with a German colonel, whose name we could never
learn, and having killed his man, and pressed very close upon him,
so that he had shot his horse, the horse in the fall kept the colonel
down, lying on one of his legs; upon which he demanded quarter, which
Captain Fielding granting, helped him to quit his horse, and having
disarmed him, was bringing him into the line, when the regiment of
cuirassiers, which I mentioned, commanded by Baron Kronenburg, came
roving over the field, and with a flying charge saluted our front with
a salvo of carabine shot, which wounded us a great many men, and among
the rest the captain received a shot in his thigh, which laid him on
the ground, and being separated from the line, his prisoner got away
with them.

This was the first service I was in, and indeed I never saw any fight
since maintained with such gallantry, such desperate valour, together
with such dexterity of management, both sides being composed of
soldiers fully tried, bred to the wars, expert in everything, exact in
their order, and incapable of fear, which made the battle be much more
bloody than usual. Sir John Hepburn, at my request, took particular
care of my comrade, and sent his own surgeon to look after him;
and afterwards, when the city of Leipsic was retaken, provided him
lodgings there, and came very often to see him; and indeed I was in
great care for him too, the surgeons being very doubtful of him a
great while; for having lain in the field all night among the dead,
his wound, for want of dressing, and with the extremity of cold, was
in a very ill condition, and the pain of it had thrown him into a
fever. 'Twas quite dusk before the fight ended, especially where the
last rallied troops fought so long, and therefore we durst not break
our order to seek out our friends, so that 'twas near seven o'clock
the next morning before we found the captain, who, though very weak by
the loss of blood, had raised himself up, and placed his back against
the buttock of a dead horse. I was the first that knew him, and
running to him, embraced him with a great deal of joy; he was not able
to speak, but made signs to let me see he knew me, so we brought him
into the camp, and Sir John Hepburn, as I noted before, sent his own
surgeons to look after him.

The darkness of the night prevented any pursuit, and was the only
refuge the enemy had left: for had there been three hours more
daylight ten thousand more lives had been lost, for the Swedes (and
Saxons especially) enraged by the obstinacy of the enemy, were so
thoroughly heated that they would have given quarter but to few. The
retreat was not sounded till seven o'clock, when the king drew up the
whole army upon the field of battle, and gave strict command that none
should stir from their order; so the army lay under their arms all
night, which was another reason why the wounded soldiers suffered very
much by the cold; for the king, who had a bold enemy to deal with, was
not ignorant what a small body of desperate men rallied together might
have done in the darkness of the night, and therefore he lay in his
coach all night at the head of the line, though it froze very hard.

As soon as the day began to peep the trumpets sounded to horse, and
all the dragoons and light-horse in the army were commanded to the
pursuit. The cuirassiers and some commanded musketeers advanced some
miles, if need were, to make good their retreat, and all the foot
stood to their arms for a reverse; but in half-an-hour word was
brought to the king that the enemy were quite dispersed, upon which
detachments were made out of every regiment to search among the dead
for any of our friends that were wounded; and the king himself gave a
strict order, that if any were found wounded and alive among the enemy
none should kill them, but take care to bring them into the camp--a
piece of humanity which saved the lives of near a thousand of the
enemies.

This piece of service being over, the enemy's camp was seized upon,
and the soldiers were permitted to plunder it; all the cannon, arms,
and ammunition was secured for the king's use, the rest was given up
to the soldiers, who found so much plunder that they had no reason to
quarrel for shares.

For my share, I was so busy with my wounded captain that I got nothing
but a sword, which I found just by him when I first saw him; but my
man brought me a very good horse with a furniture on him, and one
pistol of extraordinary workmanship.

I bade him get upon his back and make the best of the day for himself,
which he did, and I saw him no more till three days after, when he
found me out at Leipsic, so richly dressed that I hardly knew him; and
after making his excuse for his long absence, gave me a very pleasant
account where he had been. He told me that, according to my order,
being mounted on the horse he had brought me, he first rid into the
field among the dead to get some clothes suitable to the equipage of
his horse, and having seized on a laced coat, a helmet, a sword, and
an extraordinary good cane, was resolved to see what was become of the
enemy; and following the track of the dragoons, which he could
easily do by the bodies on the road, he fell in with a small party
of twenty-five dragoons, under no command but a corporal, making to
a village where some of the enemies' horse had been quartered. The
dragoons, taking him for an officer by his horse, desired him to
command them, told him the enemy was very rich, and they doubted not
a good booty. He was a bold, brisk fellow, and told them, with all
his heart, but said he had but one pistol, the other being broken with
firing; so they lent him a pair of pistols, and a small piece they had
taken, and he led them on. There had been a regiment of horse and
some troops of Crabats in the village, but they were fled on the first
notice of the pursuit, excepting three troops, and these, on sight
of this small party, supposing them to be only the first of a greater
number, fled in the greatest confusion imaginable. They took the
village, and about fifty horses, with all the plunder of the enemy,
and with the heat of the service he had spoiled my horse, he said, for
which he had brought me two more; for he, passing for the commander of
the party, had all the advantage the custom of war gives an officer in
like cases.

I was very well pleased with the relation the fellow gave me, and,
laughing at him, "Well, captain," said I, "and what plunder have ye
got?" "Enough to make me a captain, sir," says he, "if you please, and
a troop ready raised too; for the party of dragoons are posted in the
village by my command, till they have farther orders." In short,
he pulled out sixty or seventy pieces of gold, five or six watches,
thirteen or fourteen rings, whereof two were diamond rings, one of
which was worth fifty dollars, silver as much as his pockets would
hold; besides that he had brought three horses, two of which were
laden with baggage, and a boor he had hired to stay with them at
Leipsic till he had found me out. "But I am afraid, captain," says I,
"you have plundered the village instead of plundering the enemy." "No
indeed, not we," says he, "but the Crabats had done it for us and we
light of them just as they were carrying it off." "Well," said I, "but
what will you do with your men, for when you come to give them orders
they will know you well enough?" "No, no," says he, "I took care of
that, for just now I gave a soldier five dollars to carry them news
that the army was marched to Merseburg, and that they should follow
thither to the regiment."

Having secured his money in my lodgings, he asked me if I pleased to
see his horses, and to have one for myself? I told him I would go and
see them in the afternoon; but the fellow being impatient goes and
fetches them. There were three horses, one whereof was a very good
one, and by the furniture was an officer's horse of the Crabats, and
that my man would have me accept, for the other he had spoiled, as
he said. I was but indifferently horsed before, so I accepted of the
horse, and went down with him to see the rest of his plunder there.
He had got three or four pair of pistols, two or three bundles of
officers' linen, and lace, a field-bed, and a tent, and several other
things of value; but at last, coming to a small fardel, "And this,"
says he, "I took whole from a Crabat running away with it under his
arm," so he brought it up into my chamber. He had not looked into it,
he said, but he understood 'twas some plunder the soldiers had made,
and finding it heavy took it by consent. We opened it and found it was
a bundle of some linen, thirteen or fourteen pieces of plate, and in a
small cup, three rings, a fine necklace of pearl and the value of 100
rix-dollars in money.

The fellow was amazed at his own good fortune, and hardly knew what
to do with himself; I bid him go take care of his other things, and
of his horses, and come again. So he went and discharged the boor that
waited and packed up all his plunder, and came up to me in his old
clothes again. "How now, captain," says I, "what, have you altered
your equipage already?" "I am no more ashamed, sir, of your livery,"
answered he, "than of your service, and nevertheless your servant for
what I have got by it." "Well," says I to him, "but what will you do
now with all your money?" "I wish my poor father had some of it," says
he, "and for the rest I got it for you, sir, and desire you would take
it." He spoke it with so much honesty and freedom that I could not
but take it very kindly; but, however, I told him I would not take a
farthing from him as his master, but I would have him play the good
husband with it, now he had such good fortune to get it. He told me
he would take my directions in everything. "Why, then," said I, "I'll
tell you what I would advise you to do, turn it all into ready money,
and convey it by return home into England, and follow yourself the
first opportunity, and with good management you may put yourself in a
good posture of living with it." The fellow, with a sort of dejection
in his looks, asked me if he had disobliged me in anything? "Why?"
says I. "That I was willing to turn him out of his service." "No,
George" (that was his name), says I, "but you may live on this money
without being a servant." "I'd throw it all into the Elbe," says he,
"over Torgau bridge, rather than leave your service; and besides,"
says he, "can't I save my money without going from you? I got it in
your service, and I'll never spend it out of your service, unless you
put me away. I hope my money won't make me the worse servant; if I
thought it would, I'd soon have little enough." "Nay, George," says
I, "I shall not oblige you to it, for I am not willing to lose you
neither: come, then," says I, "let us put it all together, and see
what it will come to." So he laid it all together on the table, and by
our computation he had gotten as much plunder as was worth about 1400
rix-dollars, besides three horses with their furniture, a tent, a bed,
and some wearing linen. Then he takes the necklace of pearl, a very
good watch, a diamond ring, and 100 pieces of gold, and lays them by
themselves, and having, according to our best calculation, valued the
things, he put up all the rest, and as I was going to ask him what
they were left out for, he takes them up in his hand, and coming round
the table, told me, that if I did not think him unworthy of my service
and favour, he begged I would give him leave to make that present to
me; that it was my first thought his going out, that he had got it
all in my service, and he should think I had no kindness for him if I
should refuse it.

I was resolved in my mind not to take it from him, and yet I could
find no means to resist his importunity. At last I told him, I would
accept of part of his present, and that I esteemed his respect in
that as much as the whole, and that I would not have him importune me
farther; so I took the ring and watch, with the horse and furniture as
before, and made him turn all the rest into money at Leipsic, and
not suffering him to wear his livery, made him put himself into a
tolerable equipage, and taking a young Leipsicer into my service, he
attended me as a gentleman from that time forward.

The king's army never entered Leipsic, but proceeded to Merseberg, and
from thence to Halle, and so marched on into Franconia, while the Duke
of Saxony employed his forces in recovering Leipsic and driving the
Imperialists out of his country. I continued at Leipsic twelve days,
being not willing to leave my comrade till he was recovered; but Sir
John Hepburn so often importuned me to come into the army, and sent
me word that the king had very often inquired for me, that at last I
consented to go without him; so having made our appointment where to
meet, and how to correspond by letters, I went to wait on Sir John
Hepburn, who then lay with the king's army at the city of Erfurt in
Saxony. As I was riding between Leipsic and Halle, I observed my
horse went very awkwardly and uneasy, and sweat very much, though the
weather was cold, and we had rid but very softly; I fancied therefore
that the saddle might hurt the horse, and calls my new captain up.
"George," says I, "I believe this saddle hurts the horse." So we
alighted, and looking under the saddle found the back of the horse
extremely galled; so I bid him take off the saddle, which he did, and
giving the horse to my young Leipsicer to lead, we sat down to see if
we could mend it, for there was no town near us. Says George, pointing
with his finger, "If you please to cut open the pannel there, I'll get
something to stuff into it which will bear it from the horse's back."
So while he looked for something to thrust in, I cut a hole in
the pannel of the saddle, and, following it with my finger, I felt
something hard, which seemed to move up and down. Again, as I thrust
it with my finger, "Here's something that should not be here," says I,
not yet imagining what afterwards fell out, and calling, "Run back,"
bade him put up his finger. "Whatever 'tis," says he, "'tis this hurts
the horse, for it bears just on his back when the saddle is set on."
So we strove to take hold on it, but could not reach it; at last we
took the upper part of the saddle quite from the pannel, and there
lay a small silk purse wrapped in a piece of leather, and full of gold
ducats. "Thou art born to be rich, George," says I to him, "here's
more money." We opened the purse and found in it four hundred and
thirty-eight small pieces of gold.

There I had a new skirmish with him whose the money should be. I
told him 'twas his, he told me no; I had accepted of the horse and
furniture, and all that was about him was mine, and solemnly vowed he
would not have a penny of it. I saw no remedy, but put up the money
for the present, mended our saddle, and went on. We lay that night at
Halle, and having had such a booty in the saddle, I made him search
the saddles of the other two horses, in one of which we found three
French crowns, but nothing in the other.

We arrived at Erfurt the 28th of September, but the army was removed,
and entered into Franconia, and at the siege of Koningshoven we came
up with them. The first thing I did was to pay my civilities to Sir
John Hepburn, who received me very kindly, but told me withal that
I had not done well to be so long from him, and the king had
particularly inquired for me, had commanded him to bring me to him at
my return. I told him the reason of my stay at Leipsic, and how I had
left that place and my comrade, before he was cured of his wounds, to
wait on him according to his letters. He told me the king had spoken
some things very obliging about me, and he believed would offer me
some command in the army, if I thought well to accept of it. I told
him I had promised my father not to take service in an army without
his leave, and yet if his Majesty should offer it, I neither knew
how to resist it, nor had I an inclination to anything more than the
service, and such a leader, though I had much rather have served as a
volunteer at my own charge (which, as he knew, was the custom of our
English gentlemen) than in any command. He replied, "Do as you think
fit; but some gentlemen would give 20,000 crowns to stand so fair for
advancement as you do."

The town of Koningshoven capitulated that day, and Sir John was
ordered to treat with the citizens, so I had no further discourse with
him then; and the town being taken, the army immediately advanced down
the river Maine, for the king had his eye upon Frankfort and Mentz,
two great cities, both which he soon became master of, chiefly by
the prodigious expedition of his march; for within a month after the
battle, he was in the lower parts of the empire, and had passed from
the Elbe to the Rhine, an incredible conquest, had taken all the
strong cities, the bishoprics of Bamberg, of Wurtzburg, and almost all
the circle of Franconia, with part of Schawberland--a conquest large
enough to be seven years a-making by the common course of arms.

Business going on thus, the king had not leisure to think of small
matters, and I being not thoroughly resolved in my mind, did not press
Sir John to introduce me. I had wrote to my father with an account
of my reception in the army, the civilities of Sir John Hepburn, the
particulars of the battle, and had indeed pressed him to give me
leave to serve the King of Sweden, to which particular I waited for
an answer, but the following occasion determined me before an answer
could possibly reach me.

The king was before the strong castle of Marienburg, which commands
the city of Wurtzburg. He had taken the city, but the garrison and
richer part of the burghers were retired into the castle, and trusting
to the strength of the place, which was thought impregnable, they bade
the Swedes do their worst; 'twas well provided with all things, and a
strong garrison in it, so that the army indeed expected 'twould be a
long piece of work. The castle stood on a high rock, and on the steep
of the rock was a bastion which defended the only passage up the hill
into the castle; the Scots were chose out to make this attack, and the
king was an eye-witness of their gallantry. In the action Sir John was
not commanded out, but Sir James Ramsey led them on; but I observed
that most of the Scotch officers in the other regiments prepared to
serve as volunteers for the honour of their countrymen, and Sir John
Hepburn led them on. I was resolved to see this piece of service,
and therefore joined myself to the volunteers. We were armed with
partisans, and each man two pistols at our belt. It was a piece of
service that seemed perfectly desperate, the advantage of the hill,
the precipice we were to mount, the height of the bastion, the
resolute courage and number of the garrison, who from a complete
covert made a terrible fire upon us, all joined to make the action
hopeless. But the fury of the Scots musketeers was not to be abated by
any difficulties; they mounted the hill, scaled the works like madmen,
running upon the enemies' pikes, and after two hours' desperate fight
in the midst of fire and smoke, took it by storm, and put all the
garrison to the sword. The volunteers did their part, and had their
share of the loss too, for thirteen or fourteen were killed out of
thirty-seven, besides the wounded, among whom I received a hurt more
troublesome than dangerous by a thrust of a halberd into my arm, which
proved a very painful wound, and I was a great while before it was
thoroughly recovered.

The king received us as we drew off at the foot of the hill, calling
the soldiers his brave Scots, and commending the officers by name.
The next morning the castle was also taken by storm, and the greatest
booty that ever was found in any one conquest in the whole war; the
soldiers got here so much money that they knew not what to do with it,
and the plunder they got here and at the battle of Leipsic made them
so unruly, that had not the king been the best master of discipline in
the world, they had never been kept in any reasonable bounds.

The king had taken notice of our small party of volunteers, and though
I thought he had not seen me, yet he sent the next morning for Sir
John Hepburn, and asked him if I were not come to the army? "Yes,"
says Sir John, "he has been here two or three days." And as he was
forming an excuse for not having brought me to wait on his Majesty,
says the king, interrupting him, "I wonder you would let him thrust
himself into a hot piece of service as storming the Port Graft.
Pray let him know I saw him, and have a very good account of his
behaviour." Sir John returned with this account to me, and pressed
me to pay my duty to his Majesty the next morning; and accordingly,
though I had but an ill night with the pain of my wound, I was with
him at the levee in the castle.

I cannot but give some short account of the glory of the morning; the
castle had been cleared of the dead bodies of the enemies, and what
was not pillaged by the soldiers was placed under a guard. There was
first a magazine of very good arms for about 18,000 or 20,000 foot,
and 4000 horse, a very good train of artillery of about eighteen
pieces of battery, thirty-two brass field-pieces, and four mortars.
The bishop's treasure, and other public monies not plundered by the
soldiers, was telling out by the officers, and amounted to 400,000
florins in money; and the burghers of the town in solemn procession,
bareheaded, brought the king three tons of gold as a composition to
exempt the city from plunder. Here was also a stable of gallant horses
which the king had the curiosity to go and see.

When the ceremony of the burghers was over, the king came down into
the castle court, walked on the parade (where the great train of
artillery was placed on their carriages) and round the walls, and gave
order for repairing the bastion that was stormed by the Scots; and
as at the entrance of the parade Sir John Hepburn and I made our
reverence to the king, "Ho, cavalier!" said the king to me, "I am glad
to see you," and so passed forward. I made my bow very low, but his
Majesty said no more at that time.

When the view was over the king went up into the lodgings, and Sir
John and I walked in an antechamber for about a quarter of an hour,
when one of the gentlemen of the bedchamber came out to Sir John, and
told him the king asked for him; he stayed but a little with the king,
and come out to me and told me the king had ordered him to bring me to
him.

His Majesty, with a countenance full of honour and goodness,
interrupted my compliment, and asked me how I did; at which answering
only with a bow, says the king, "I am sorry to see you are hurt; I
would have laid my commands on you not to have shown yourself in so
sharp a piece of service, if I had known you had been in the camp."
"Your Majesty does me too much honour," said I, "in your care of a
life that has yet done nothing to deserve your favour." His Majesty
was pleased to say something very kind to me relating to my behaviour
in the battle of Leipsic, which I have not vanity enough to write;
at the conclusion whereof, when I replied very humbly that I was not
sensible that any service I had done, or could do, could possibly
merit so much goodness, he told me he had ordered me a small testimony
of his esteem, and withal gave me his hand to kiss. I was now
conquered, and with a sort of surprise told his Majesty I found myself
so much engaged by his goodness, as well as my own inclination, that
if his Majesty would please to accept of my devoir, I was resolved to
serve in his army, or wherever he pleased to command me. "Serve
me," says the king, "why, so you do, but I must not have you be a
musketeer; a poor soldier at a dollar a week will do that." "Pray,
Sir John," says the king, "give him what commission he desires." "No
commission, sir," says I, "would please me better than leave to fight
near your Majesty's person, and to serve you at my own charge till I
am qualified by more experience to receive your commands." "Why, then,
it shall be so," said the king, "and I charge you, Hepburn," says he,
"when anything offers that is either fit for him, or he desires, that
you tell me of it;" and giving me his hand again to kiss, I withdrew.

I was followed before I had passed the castle gate by one of the
king's pages, who brought me a warrant, directed to Sir John Hepburn,
to go to the master of the horse for an immediate delivery of things
ordered by the king himself for my account, where being come, the
equerry produced me a very good coach with four horses, harness, and
equipage, and two very fine saddle-horses, out of the stable of the
bishop's horses afore-mentioned; with these there was a list for three
servants, and a warrant to the steward of the king's baggage to defray
me, my horses, and servants at the king's charge till farther order.
I was very much at a loss how to manage myself in this so strange
freedom of so great a prince, and consulting with Sir John Hepburn, I
was proposing to him whether it was not proper to go immediately back
to pay my duty to his Majesty, and acknowledge his bounty in the best
terms I could; but while we were resolving to do so, the guards stood
to their arms, and we saw the king go out at the gate in his coach
to pass into the city, so we were diverted from it for that time. I
acknowledge the bounty of the king was very surprising, but I must say
it was not so very strange to me when I afterwards saw the course of
his management. Bounty in him was his natural talent, but he never
distributed his favours but where he thought himself both loved and
faithfully served, and when he was so, even the single actions of
his private soldiers he would take particular notice of himself, and
publicly own, acknowledge, and reward them, of which I am obliged to
give some instances.

A private musketeer at the storming the castle of Wurtzburg, when
all the detachment was beaten off, stood in the face of the enemy and
fired his piece, and though he had a thousand shot made at him, stood
unconcerned, and charged his piece again, and let fly at the enemy,
continuing to do so three times, at the same time beckoning with his
hand to his fellows to come on again, which they did, animated by his
example, and carried the place for the king.

When the town was taken the king ordered the regiment to be drawn out,
and calling for that soldier, thanked him before them all for
taking the town for him, gave him a thousand dollars in money, and a
commission with his own hand for a foot company, or leave to go home,
which he would. The soldier took the commission on his knees, kissed
it, and put it into his bosom, and told the king, he would never leave
his service as long as he lived.

This bounty of the king's, timed and suited by his judgment, was
the reason that he was very well served, entirely beloved, and most
punctually obeyed by his soldiers, who were sure to be cherished and
encouraged if they did well, having the king generally an eye-witness
of their behaviour.

My indiscretion rather than valour had engaged me so far at the battle
of Leipsic, that being in the van of Sir John Hepburn's brigade,
almost three whole companies of us were separated from our line, and
surrounded by the enemies' pikes. I cannot but say also that we were
disengaged rather by a desperate charge Sir John made with the whole
regiment to fetch us off, than by our own valour, though we were not
wanting to ourselves neither, but this part of the action being talked
of very much to the advantage of the young English volunteer, and
possibly more than I deserved, was the occasion of all the distinction
the king used me with ever after.

I had by this time letters from my father, in which, though with some
reluctance, he left me at liberty to enter into arms if I thought fit,
always obliging me to be directed, and, as he said, commanded by
Sir John Hepburn. At the same time he wrote to Sir John Hepburn,
commending his son's fortunes, as he called it, to his care, which
letters Sir John showed the king unknown to me.

I took care always to acquaint my father of every circumstance, and
forgot not to mention his Majesty's extraordinary favour, which so
affected my father, that he obtained a very honourable mention of it
in a letter from King Charles to the King of Sweden, written by his
own hand.

I had waited on his Majesty, with Sir John Hepburn, to give him thanks
for his magnificent present, and was received with his usual goodness,
and after that I was every day among the gentlemen of his ordinary
attendance. And if his Majesty went out on a party, as he would
often do, or to view the country, I always attended him among the
volunteers, of whom a great many always followed him; and he would
often call me out, talk with me, send me upon messages to towns, to
princes, free cities, and the like, upon extraordinary occasions.

The first piece of service he put me upon had like to have embroiled
me with one of his favourite colonels. The king was marching through
the Bergstraet, a low country on the edge of the Rhine, and, as all
men thought, was going to besiege Heidelberg, but on a sudden orders
a party of his guards, with five companies of Scots, to be drawn out;
while they were drawing out this detachment the king calls me to him,
"Ho, cavalier," says he, that was his usual word, "you shall command
this party;" and thereupon gives me orders to march back all night,
and in the morning, by break of day, to take post under the walls of
the fort of Oppenheim, and immediately to entrench myself as well as I
could. Grave Neels, the colonel of his guards, thought himself injured
by this command, but the king took the matter upon himself, and Grave
Neels told me very familiarly afterwards, "We have such a master,"
says he, "that no man can be affronted by. I thought myself wronged,"
says he, "when you commanded my men over my head; and for my life,"
says he, "I knew not which way to be angry."

I executed my commission so punctually that by break of day I was set
down within musket-shot of the fort, under covert of a little mount,
on which stood a windmill, and had indifferently fortified myself, and
at the same time had posted some of my men on two other passes, but
at farther distance from the fort, so that the fort was effectually
blocked up on the land side. In the afternoon the enemy sallied on my
first entrenchment, but being covered from their cannon, and defended
by a ditch which I had drawn across the road, they were so well
received by my musketeers that they retired with the loss of six or
seven men.

The next day Sir John Hepburn was sent with two brigades of foot to
carry on the work, and so my commission ended. The king expressed
himself very well pleased with what I had done, and when he was so
was never sparing of telling of it, for he used to say that public
commendations were a great encouragement to valour.

While Sir John Hepburn lay before the fort and was preparing to storm
it, the king's design was to get over the Rhine, but the Spaniards
which were in Oppenheim had sunk all the boats they could find. At
last the king, being informed where some lay that were sunk, caused
them to be weighed with all the expedition possible, and in the night
of the 7th of December, in three boats, passed over his regiment of
guards, about three miles above the town, and, as the king thought,
secure from danger; but they were no sooner landed, and not drawn into
order, but they were charged by a body of Spanish horse, and had not
the darkness given them opportunity to draw up in the enclosures
in several little parties, they had been in great danger of being
disordered; but by this means they lined the hedges and lanes so with
musketeers, that the remainder had time to draw up in battalia, and
saluted the horse with their muskets, so that they drew farther off.

The king was very impatient, hearing his men engaged, having no boats
nor possible means to get over to help them. At last, about eleven
o'clock at night, the boats came back, and the king thrust another
regiment into them, and though his officers dissuaded him, would go
over himself with them on foot, and did so. This was three months that
very day when the battle of Leipsic was fought, and winter time too,
that the progress of his arms had spread from the Elbe, where it parts
Saxony and Brandenburg, to the Lower Palatine and the Rhine.

I went over in the boat with the king. I never saw him in so much
concern in my life, for he was in pain for his men; but before we got
on shore the Spaniards retired. However, the king landed, ordered his
men, and prepared to entrench, but he had not time, for by that time
the boats were put off again, the Spaniards, not knowing more troops
were landed, and being reinforced from Oppenheim, came on again, and
charged with great fury; but all things were now in order, and they
were readily received and beaten back again. They came on again the
third time, and with repeated charges attacked us; but at last
finding us too strong for them they gave it over. By this time another
regiment of foot was come over, and as soon as day appeared the king
with the three regiments marched to the town, which surrendered at the
first summons, and the next day the fort yielded to Sir John Hepburn.

The castle at Oppenheim held out still with a garrison of 800
Spaniards, and the king, leaving 200 Scots of Sir James Ramsey's men
in the town, drew out to attack the castle. Sir James Ramsey being
left wounded at Wurtzburg, the king gave me the command of those 200
men, which were a regiment, that is to say, all that were left of a
gallant regiment of 2000 Scots, which the king brought out of Sweden
with him, under that brave colonel. There was about thirty officers,
who, having no soldiers, were yet in pay, and served as reformadoes
with the regiment, and were over and above the 200 men.

The king designed to storm the castle on the lower side by the way
that leads to Mentz, and Sir John Hepburn landed from the other side
and marched up to storm on the Rhine port.

My reformado Scots, having observed that the town port of the castle
was not so well guarded as the rest, all the eyes of the garrison
being bent towards the king and Sir John Hepburn, came running to me,
and told me they believed they could enter the castle, sword in hand,
if I would give them leave. I told them I durst not give them orders,
my commission being only to keep and defend the town; but they being
very importunate, I told them they were volunteers, and might do what
they pleased, that I would lend them fifty men, and draw up the rest
to second them, or bring them off, as I saw occasion, so as I might
not hazard the town. This was as much as they desired; they sallied
immediately, and in a trice the volunteers scaled the port, cut in
pieces the guard, and burst open the gate, at which the fifty entered.
Finding the gate won, I advanced immediately with 100 musketeers more,
having locked up all the gates of the town but the castle port, and
leaving fifty still for a reserve just at that gate; the townsmen,
too, seeing the castle, as it were, taken, ran to arms, and followed
me with above 200 men. The Spaniards were knocked down by the Scots
before they knew what the matter was, and the king and Sir John
Hepburn, advancing to storm, were surprised when, instead of
resistance, they saw the Spaniards throwing themselves over the walls
to avoid the fury of the Scots. Few of the garrison got away, but were
either killed or taken, and having cleared the castle, I set open the
port on the king's side, and sent his Majesty word the castle was his
own. The king came on, and entered on foot. I received him at the head
of the Scots reformadoes; who all saluted him with their pikes. The
king gave them his hat, and turning about, "Brave Scots, brave Scots,"
says he smiling, "you were too quick for me;" then beckoning to me,
made me tell him how and in what manner we had managed the storm,
which he was exceeding well pleased with, but especially at the
caution I had used to bring them off if they had miscarried, and
secured the town.

From hence the army marched to Mentz, which in four days' time
capitulated, with the fort and citadel, and the city paid his Majesty
300,000 dollars to be exempted from the fury of the soldiers. Here the
king himself drew the plan of those invincible fortifications which to
this day makes it one of the strongest cities in Germany.

Friburg, Koningstien, Neustadt, Kaiserslautern, and almost all the
Lower Palatinate, surrendered at the very terror of the King of
Sweden's approach, and never suffered the danger of a siege.

The king held a most magnificent court at Mentz, attended by the
Landgrave of Hesse, with an incredible number of princes and lords
of the empire, with ambassadors and residents of foreign princes;
and here his Majesty stayed till March, when the queen, with a great
retinue of Swedish nobility, came from Erfurt to see him. The king,
attended by a gallant train of German nobility, went to Frankfort, and
from thence on to Hoest, to meet the queen, where her Majesty arrived
February 8.

During the king's stay in these parts, his armies were not idle, his
troops, on one side under the Rhinegrave, a brave and ever-fortunate
commander, and under the Landgrave of Hesse, on the other, ranged the
country from Lorraine to Luxemburg, and past the Moselle on the west,
and the Weser on the north. Nothing could stand before them: the
Spanish army which came to the relief of the Catholic Electors was
everywhere defeated and beaten quite out of the country, and the
Lorraine army quite ruined. 'Twas a most pleasant court sure as ever
was seen, where every day expresses arrived of armies defeated, towns
surrendered, contributions agreed upon, parties routed, prisoners
taken, and princes sending ambassadors to sue for truces and
neutralities, to make submissions and compositions, and to pay arrears
and contributions.

Here arrived, February 10, the King of Bohemia from England, and with
him my Lord Craven, with a body of Dutch horse, and a very fine train
of English volunteers, who immediately, without any stay, marched on
to Hoest to wait upon his Majesty of Sweden, who received him with a
great deal of civility, and was treated at a noble collation by the
king and queen at Frankfort. Never had the unfortunate king so fair a
prospect of being restored to his inheritance of the Palatinate as
at that time, and had King James, his father-in-law, had a soul
answerable to the occasion, it had been effected before, but it was a
strange thing to see him equipped from the English court with one lord
and about forty or fifty English gentlemen in his attendance, whereas
had the King of England now, as 'tis well known he might have done,
furnished him with 10,000 or 12,000 English foot, nothing could have
hindered him taking a full possession of his country; and yet even
without that help did the King of Sweden clear almost his whole
country of Imperialists, and after his death reinstal his son in the
Electorate; but no thanks to us.

The Lord Craven did me the honour to inquire for me by name, and his
Majesty of Sweden did me yet more by presenting me to the King of
Bohemia, and my Lord Craven gave me a letter from my father. And
speaking something of my father having served under the Prince of
Orange in the famous battle of Nieuport, the king, smiling, returned,
"And pray tell him from me his son has served as well in the warm
battle of Leipsic."

My father being very much pleased with the honour I had received from
so great a king, had ordered me to acquaint his Majesty that, if he
pleased to accept of their service, he would raise him a regiment of
English horse at his own charge to be under my command, and to be
sent over into Holland; and my Lord Craven had orders from the King of
England to signify his consent to the said levy. I acquainted my old
friend Sir John Hepburn with the contents of the letter in order to
have his advice, who being pleased with the proposal, would have me
go to the king immediately with the letter, but present service put it
off for some days.

The taking of Creutznach was the next service of any moment. The king
drew out in person to the siege of this town. The town soon came to
parley, but the castle seemed a work of difficulty, for its situation
was so strong and so surrounded with works behind and above one and
another, that most people thought the king would receive a check
from it; but it was not easy to resist the resolution of the King of
Sweden.

He never battered it but with two small pieces, but having viewed the
works himself, ordered a mine under the first ravelin, which being
sprung with success, he commands a storm. I think there was not
more commanded men than volunteers, both English, Scots, French, and
Germans. My old comrade was by this time recovered of his wound at
Leipsic, and made one. The first body of volunteers, of about forty,
were led on by my Lord Craven, and I led the second, among whom were
most of the reformado Scots officers who took the castle of Oppenheim.
The first party was not able to make anything of it; the garrison
fought with so much fury that many of the volunteer gentlemen being
wounded, and some killed, the rest were beaten off with loss. The king
was in some passion at his men, and rated them for running away, as he
called it, though they really retreated in good order, and commanded
the assault to be renewed. 'Twas our turn to fall on next. Our Scots
officers, not being used to be beaten, advanced immediately, and my
Lord Craven with his volunteers pierced in with us, fighting gallantly
in the breach with a pike in his hand; and, to give him the honour due
to his bravery, he was with the first on the top of the rampart, and
gave his hand to my comrade, and lifted him up after him. We helped
one another up, till at last almost all the volunteers had gained
the height of the ravelin, and maintained it with a great deal of
resolution, expecting when the commanded men had gained the same
height to advance upon the enemy; when one of the enemy's captains
called to my Lord Craven, and told him if they might have honourable
terms they would capitulate, which my lord telling him he would engage
for, the garrison fired no more, and the captain, leaping down from
the next rampart, came with my Lord Craven into the camp, where the
conditions were agreed on, and the castle surrendered.

After the taking of this town, the king, hearing of Tilly's approach,
and how he had beaten Gustavus Horn, the king's field-marshal, out of
Bamberg, began to draw his forces together, and leaving the care of
his conquests in these parts to his chancellor Oxenstiern, prepares to
advance towards Bavaria.

I had taken an opportunity to wait upon his Majesty with Sir John
Hepburn and being about to introduce the discourse of my father's
letter, the king told me he had received a compliment on my account
in a letter from King Charles. I told him his Majesty had by his
exceeding generosity bound me and all my friends to pay their
acknowledgments to him, and that I supposed my father had obtained
such a mention of it from the King of England, as gratitude moved him
to that his Majesty's favour had been shown in me to a family both
willing and ready to serve him, that I had received some commands from
my father, which, if his Majesty pleased to do me the honour to accept
of, might put me in a condition to acknowledge his Majesty's goodness
in a manner more proportioned to the sense I had of his favour; and
with that I produced my father's letter, and read that clause in it
which related to the regiment of horse, which was as follows:--

"I read with a great deal of satisfaction the account you give of the
great and extraordinary conquests of the King of Sweden, and with more
his Majesty's singular favour to you; I hope you will be careful to
value and deserve so much honour. I am glad you rather chose to serve
as a volunteer at your own charge, than to take any command, which,
for want of experience, you might misbehave in.

"I have obtained of the king that he will particularly thank his
Majesty of Sweden for the honour he has done you, and if his Majesty
gives you so much freedom, I could be glad you should in the humblest
manner thank his Majesty in the name of an old broken soldier.

"If you think yourself officer enough to command them, and his Majesty
pleased to accept them, I would have you offer to raise his Majesty
a regiment of horse, which, I think, I may near complete in our
neighbourhood with some of your old acquaintance, who are very willing
to see the world. If his Majesty gives you the word, they shall
receive his commands in the Maes, the king having promised me to give
them arms, and transport them for that service into Holland; and I
hope they may do his Majesty such service as may be for your honour
and the advantage of his Majesty's interest and glory."

"YOUR LOVING FATHER."

"'Tis an offer like a gentleman and like a soldier," says the king,"
and I'll accept of it on two conditions: first," says the king, "that
I will pay your father the advance money for the raising the regiment;
and next, that they shall be landed in the Weser or the Elbe; for
which, if the King of England will not, I will pay the passage; for
if they land in Holland, it may prove very difficult to get them to us
when the army shall be marched out of this part of the country."

I returned this answer to my father, and sent my man George into
England to order that regiment, and made him quartermaster. I sent
blank commissions for the officers, signed by the king, to be filled
up as my father should think fit; and when I had the king's order for
the commissions, the secretary told me I must go back to the king with
them. Accordingly I went back to the king, who, opening the packet,
laid all the commissions but one upon a table before him, and bade
me take them, and keeping that one still in his hand, "Now," says he,
"you are one of my soldiers," and therewith gave me his commission, as
colonel of horse in present pay. I took the commission kneeling,
and humbly thanked his Majesty. "But," says the king, "there is one
article-of-war I expect of you more than of others." "Your Majesty can
expect nothing of me which I shall not willingly comply with," said I,
"as soon as I have the honour to understand what it is." "Why, it is,"
says the king, "that you shall never fight but when you have orders,
for I shall not be willing to lose my colonel before I have the
regiment." "I shall be ready at all times, sir," returned I, "to obey
your Majesty's orders."

I sent my man express with the king's answer and the commission to my
father, who had the regiment completed in less than two months' time,
and six of the officers, with a list of the rest, came away to me,
whom I presented to his Majesty when he lay before Nuremberg, where
they kissed his hand.

One of the captains offered to bring the whole regiment travelling as
private men into the army in six weeks' time, and either to transport
their equipage, or buy it in Germany, but 'twas thought impracticable.
However, I had so many come in that manner that I had a complete troop
always about me, and obtained the king's order to muster them as a
troop.

On the 8th of March the king decamped, and, marching up the river
Maine, bent his course directly for Bavaria, taking several small
places by the way, and expecting to engage with Tilly, who he thought
would dispute his entrance into Bavaria, kept his army together; but
Tilly, finding himself too weak to encounter him, turned away, and
leaving Bavaria open to the king, marched into the Upper Palatinate.
The king finding the country clear of the Imperialists comes to
Nuremberg, made his entrance into that city the 21st of March, and
being nobly treated by the citizens, he continued his march into
Bavaria, and on the 26th sat down before Donauwerth. The town was
taken the next day by storm, so swift were the conquests of this
invincible captain. Sir John Hepburn, with the Scots and the English
volunteers at the head of them, entered the town first, and cut all
the garrison to pieces, except such as escaped over the bridge.

I had no share in the business of Donauwerth, being now among the
horse, but I was posted on the roads with five troops of horse, where
we picked up a great many stragglers of the garrison, whom we made
prisoners of war.

'Tis observable that this town of Donauwerth is a very strong place
and well fortified, and yet such expedition did the king make, and
such resolution did he use in his first attacks, that he carried the
town without putting himself to the trouble of formal approaches.
'Twas generally his way when he came before any town with a design to
besiege it; he never would encamp at a distance and begin his trenches
a great way off, but bring his men immediately within half musket-shot
of the place; there getting under the best cover he could, he would
immediately begin his batteries and trenches before their faces;
and if there was any place possibly to be attacked, he would fall to
storming immediately. By this resolute way of coming on he carried
many a town in the first heat of his men, which would have held out
many days against a more regular siege.

This march of the king broke all Tilly's measures, for now he was
obliged to face about, and leaving the Upper Palatinate, to come
to the assistance of the Duke of Bavaria; for the king being 20,000
strong, besides 10,000 foot and 4000 horse and dragoons which joined
him from the Duringer Wald, was resolved to ruin the duke, who lay
now open to him, and was the most powerful and inveterate enemy of the
Protestants in the empire.

Tilly was now joined with the Duke of Bavaria, and might together make
about 22,000 men, and in order to keep the Swedes out of the country
of Bavaria, had planted themselves along the banks of the river Lech,
which runs on the edge of the duke's territories; and having fortified
the other side of the river, and planted his cannon for several miles
at all the convenient places on the river, resolved to dispute the
king's passage.

I shall be the longer in relating this account of the Lech, being
esteemed in those days as great an action as any battle or siege of
that age, and particularly famous for the disaster of the gallant old
General Tilly; and for that I can be more particular in it than other
accounts, having been an eye-witness to every part of it.

The king being truly informed of the disposition of the Bavarian army,
was once of the mind to have left the banks of the Lech, have repassed
the Danube, and so setting down before Ingolstadt, the duke's capital
city, by the taking that strong town to have made his entrance into
Bavaria, and the conquest of such a fortress, one entire action;
but the strength of the place and the difficulty of maintaining his
leaguer in an enemy's country while Tilly was so strong in the field,
diverted him from that design; he therefore concluded that Tilly
was first to be beaten out of the country, and then the siege of
Ingolstadt would be the easier.

Whereupon the king resolved to go and view the situation of the enemy.
His Majesty went out the 2nd of April with a strong party of horse,
which I had the honour to command. We marched as near as we could
to the banks of the river, not to be too much exposed to the enemy's
cannon, and having gained a little height, where the whole course of
the river might be seen, the king halted, and commanded to draw up.
The king alighted, and calling me to him, examined every reach and
turning of the river by his glass, but finding the river run a long
and almost a straight course he could find no place which he liked;
but at last turning himself north, and looking down the stream, he
found the river, stretching a long reach, doubles short upon itself,
making a round and very narrow point. "There's a point will do our
business," says the king, "and if the ground be good I'll pass there,
let Tilly do his worst."

He immediately ordered a small party of horse to view the ground, and
to bring him word particularly how high the bank was on each side and
at the point. "And he shall have fifty dollars," says the king, "that
will bring me word how deep the water is." I asked his Majesty leave
to let me go, which he would by no means allow of; but as the party
was drawing out, a sergeant of dragoons told the king, if he pleased
to let him go disguised as a boor, he would bring him an account of
everything he desired. The king liked the notion well enough, and
the fellow being very well acquainted with the country, puts on a
ploughman's habit, and went away immediately with a long pole upon
his shoulder. The horse lay all this while in the woods, and the
king stood undiscerned by the enemy on the little hill aforesaid. The
dragoon with his long pole comes down boldly to the bank of the river,
and calling to the sentinels which Tilly had placed on the other
bank, talked with them, asked them if they could not help him over the
river, and pretended he wanted to come to them. At last being come to
the point where, as I said, the river makes a short turn, he stands
parleying with them a great while, and sometimes, pretending to wade
over, he puts his long pole into the water, then finding it pretty
shallow he pulls off his hose and goes in, still thrusting his pole in
before him, till being gotten up to his middle, he could reach beyond
him, where it was too deep, and so shaking his head, comes back again.
The soldiers on the other side, laughing at him, asked him if he could
swim? He said, "No," "Why, you fool you," says one of the sentinels,
"the channel of the river is twenty feet deep." "How do you know
that?" says the dragoon. "Why, our engineer," says he, "measured it
yesterday." This was what he wanted, but not yet fully satisfied,
"Ay, but," says he, "maybe it may not be very broad, and if one of you
would wade in to meet me till I could reach you with my pole, I'd give
him half a ducat to pull me over." The innocent way of his discourse
so deluded the soldiers, that one of them immediately strips and goes
in up to the shoulders, and our dragoon goes in on this side to meet
him; but the stream took t' other soldier away, and he being a good
swimmer, came swimming over to this side. The dragoon was then in a
great deal of pain for fear of being discovered, and was once going
to kill the fellow, and make off; but at last resolved to carry on the
humour, and having entertained the fellow with a tale of a tub, about
the Swedes stealing his oats, the fellow being a-cold wanted to be
gone, and he as willing to be rid of him, pretended to be very sorry
he could not get over the river, and so makes off.

By this, however, he learned both the depth and breadth of the
channel, the bottom and nature of both shores, and everything the king
wanted to know. We could see him from the hill by our glasses very
plain, and could see the soldier naked with him. Says the king, "He
will certainly be discovered and knocked on the head from the other
side: he is a fool," says the king, "he does not kill the fellow and
run off." But when the dragoon told his tale, the king was extremely
well satisfied with him, gave him a hundred dollars, and made him a
quartermaster to a troop of cuirassiers.

The king having farther examined the dragoon, he gave him a very
distinct account of the shore and the ground on this side, which he
found to be higher than the enemy's by ten or twelve foot, and a hard
gravel.

Hereupon the king resolves to pass there, and in order to it gives,
himself, particular directions for such a bridge as I believe never
army passed a river on before nor since.

His bridge was only loose planks laid upon large tressels in the same
homely manner as I have seen bricklayers raise a low scaffold to build
a brick wall; the tressels were made higher than one another to answer
to the river as it became deeper or shallower, and was all framed and
fitted before any appearance was made of attempting to pass.

When all was ready the king brings his army down to the bank of the
river, and plants his cannon as the enemy had done, some here and some
there, to amuse them.

At night, April 4th, the king commanded about 2000 men to march to
the point, and to throw up a trench on either side, and quite round
it with a battery of six pieces of cannon at each end, besides three
small mounts, one at the point and one of each side, which had each of
them two pieces upon them. This work was begun so briskly and so well
carried on, the king firing all the night from the other parts of
the river, that by daylight all the batteries at the new work were
mounted, the trench lined with 2000 musketeers, and all the utensils
of the bridge lay ready to be put together.

Now the Imperialists discovered the design, but it was too late
to hinder it; the musketeers in the great trench, and the five new
batteries, made such continual fire that the other bank, which, as
before, lay twelve feet below them, was too hot for the Imperialists;
whereupon Tilly, to be provided for the king at his coming over, falls
to work in a wood right against the point, and raises a great battery
for twenty pieces of cannon, with a breastwork or line, as near the
river as he could, to cover his men, thinking that when the king had
built his bridge he might easily beat it down with his cannon.

But the king had doubly prevented him, first by laying his bridge so
low that none of Tilly's shot could hurt it; for the bridge lay not
above half a foot above the water's edge, by which means the king, who
in that showed himself an excellent engineer, had secured it from
any batteries to be made within the land, and the angle of the bank
secured it from the remoter batteries on the other side, and the
continual fire of the cannon and small shot beat the Imperialists from
their station just against it, they having no works to cover them.

And in the second place, to secure his passage he sent over about
200 men, and after that 200 more, who had orders to cast up a large
ravelin on the other bank, just where he designed to land his bridge.
This was done with such expedition too, that it was finished before
night, and in condition to receive all the shot of Tilly's great
battery, and effectually covered his bridge. While this was doing the
king on his side lays over his bridge. Both sides wrought hard all
day and night, as if the spade, not the sword, had been to decide
the controversy, and that he had got the victory whose trenches and
batteries were first ready. In the meanwhile the cannon and musket
bullets flew like hail, and made the service so hot that both sides
had enough to do to make their men stand to their work. The king, in
the hottest of it, animated his men by his presence, and Tilly, to
give him his due, did the same; for the execution was so great, and
so many officers killed, General Altringer wounded, and two
sergeant-majors killed, that at last Tilly himself was obliged
to expose himself, and to come up to the very face of our line to
encourage his men, and give his necessary orders.

And here about one o'clock, much about the time that the king's
brigade and works were finished, and just as they said he had ordered
to fall on upon our ravelin with 3000 foot, was the brave old
Tilly slain with a musket ball in the thigh. He was carried off to
Ingolstadt, and lived some days after, but died of that wound the
same day as the king had his horse shot under him at the siege of that
town.

We made no question of passing the river here, having brought
everything so forward, and with such extraordinary success; but we
should have found it a very hot piece of work if Tilly had lived one
day more, and, if I may give my opinion of it, having seen Tilly's
battery and breastwork, in the face of which we must have passed the
river, I must say that, whenever we had marched, if Tilly had fallen
in with his horse and foot, placed in that trench, the whole army
would have passed as much danger as in the face of a strong town in
the storming a counterscarp. The king himself, when he saw with what
judgment Tilly had prepared his works, and what danger he must have
run, would often say that day's success was every way equal to the
victory of Leipsic.

Tilly being hurt and carried off, as if the soul of the army had been
lost, they began to draw off. The Duke of Bavaria took horse and rid
away as if he had fled out of battle for his life.

The other generals, with a little more caution, as well as courage,
drew off by degrees, sending their cannon and baggage away first, and
leaving some to continue firing on the bank of the river, to conceal
their retreat. The river preventing any intelligence, we knew nothing
of the disaster befallen them; and the king, who looked for blows,
having finished his bridge and ravelin, ordered to run a line with
palisadoes to take in more ground on the bank of the river, to cover
the first troops he should send over. This being finished the same
night, the king sends over a party of his guards to relieve the men
who were in the ravelin, and commanded 600 musketeers to man the new
line out of the Scots brigade.

Early in the morning a small party of Scots, commanded by one Captain
Forbes, of my Lord Reay's regiment, were sent out to learn something
of the enemy, the king observing they had not fired all night; and
while this party were abroad, the army stood in battalia; and my old
friend Sir John Hepburn, whom of all men the king most depended upon
for any desperate service, was ordered to pass the bridge with his
brigade, and to draw up without the line, with command to advance as
he found the horse, who were to second him, come over.

Sir John being passed without the trench, meets Captain Forbes with
some prisoners, and the good news of the enemy's retreat. He sends him
directly to the king, who was by this time at the head of his army,
in full battalia, ready to follow his vanguard, expecting a hot day's
work of it. Sir John sends messenger after messenger to the king,
entreating him to give him orders to advance; but the king would not
suffer him, for he was ever upon his guard, and would not venture a
surprise; so the army continued on this side the Lech all day and the
next night. In the morning the king sent for me, and ordered me to
draw out 300 horse, and a colonel with 600 horse, and a colonel with
800 dragoons, and ordered us to enter the wood by three ways, but
so as to be able to relieve one another; and then ordered Sir John
Hepburn with his brigade to advance to the edge of the wood to secure
our retreat, and at the same time commanded another brigade of foot to
pass the bridge, if need were, to second Sir John Hepburn, so warily
did this prudent general proceed.

We advanced with our horse into the Bavarian camp, which we found
forsaken. The plunder of it was inconsiderable, for the exceeding
caution the king had used gave them time to carry off all their
baggage. We followed them three or four miles, and returned to our
camp.

I confess I was most diverted that day with viewing the works which
Tilly had cast up, and must own again that had he not been taken off
we had met with as desperate a piece of work as ever was attempted.
The next day the rest of the cavalry came up to us, commanded by
Gustavus Horn, and the king and the whole army followed. We advanced
through the heart of Bavaria, took Rain at the first summons, and
several other small towns, and sat down before Augsburg.

Augsburg, though a Protestant city, had a Popish Bavarian garrison
in it of above 5000 men, commanded by a Fugger, a great family in
Bavaria. The governor had posted several little parties as out-scouts
at the distance of two miles and a half or three miles from the town.
The king, at his coming up to this town, sends me with my little troop
and three companies of dragoons to beat in these out-scouts. The first
party I lighted on was not above sixteen men, who had made a small
barricado across the road, and stood resolutely upon their guard. I
commanded the dragoons to alight and open the barricado, which, while
they resolutely performed, the sixteen men gave them two volleys of
their muskets, and through the enclosures made their retreat to a
turnpike about a quarter of a mile farther. We passed their first
traverse, and coming up to the turnpike, I found it defended by 200
musketeers. I prepared to attack them, sending word to the king how
strong the enemy was, and desired some foot to be sent me. My dragoons
fell on, and though the enemy made a very hot fire, had beat them from
this post before 200 foot, which the king had sent me, had come
up. Being joined with the foot, I followed the enemy, who retreated
fighting, till they came under the cannon of a strong redoubt, where
they drew up, and I could see another body of foot of about 300 join
them out of the works; upon which I halted, and considering I was in
view of the town, and a great way from the army, I faced about and
began to march off. As we marched I found the enemy followed, but
kept at a distance, as if they only designed to observe me. I had not
marched far, but I heard a volley of small shot, answered by two or
three more, which I presently apprehended to be at the turnpike,
where I had left a small guard of twenty-six men with a lieutenant.
Immediately I detached 100 dragoons to relieve my men and secure
my retreat, following myself as fast as the foot could march. The
lieutenant sent me back word the post was taken by the enemy, and my
men cut off. Upon this I doubled my pace, and when I came up I found
it as the lieutenant said; for the post was taken and manned with 300
musketeers and three troops of horse. By this time, also, I found the
party in my rear made up towards me, so that I was like to be charged
in a narrow place both in front and rear.

I saw there was no remedy but with all my force to fall upon that
party before me, and so to break through before those from the town
could come up with me; wherefore, commanding my dragoons to alight, I
ordered them to fall on upon the foot. Their horse were drawn up in
an enclosed field on one side of the road, a great ditch securing the
other side, so that they thought if I charged the foot in front they
would fall upon my flank, while those behind would charge my rear;
and, indeed, had the other come in time, they had cut me off. My
dragoons made three fair charges on their foot, but were received with
so much resolution and so brisk a fire, that they were beaten off, and
sixteen men killed. Seeing them so rudely handled, and the horse ready
to fall in, I relieved them with 100 musketeers, and they renewed
the attack; at the same time, with my troop of horse, flanked on both
wings with fifty musketeers, I faced their horse, but did not offer
to charge them. The case grew now desperate, and the enemy behind
were just at my heels with near 600 men. The captain who commanded the
musketeers who flanked my horse came up to me; says he, "If we do not
force this pass all will be lost; if you will draw out your troop and
twenty of my foot, and fall in, I'll engage to keep off the horse with
the rest." "With all my heart," says I.

Immediately I wheeled off my troop, and a small party of the
musketeers followed me, and fell in with the dragoons and foot, who,
seeing the danger too as well as I, fought like madmen. The foot at
the turnpike were not able to hinder our breaking through, so we
made our way out, killing about 150 of them, and put the rest into
confusion.

But now was I in as great a difficulty as before how to fetch off my
brave captain of foot, for they charged home upon him. He defended
himself with extraordinary gallantry, having the benefit of a piece of
a hedge to cover him, but he lost half his men, and was just upon
the point of being defeated when the king, informed by a soldier that
escaped from the turnpike, one of twenty-six, had sent a party of 600
dragoons to bring me off; these came upon the spur, and joined with
me just as I had broke through the turnpike. The enemy's foot rallied
behind their horse, and by this time their other party was come in;
but seeing our relief they drew off together.

I lost above 100 men in these skirmishes, and killed them about 180.
We secured the turnpike, and placed a company of foot there with 100
dragoons, and came back well beaten to the army. The king, to prevent
such uncertain skirmishes, advanced the next day in view of the town,
and, according to his custom, sits down with his whole army within
cannon-shot of their walls.

The King won this great city by force of words, for by two or three
messages and letters to and from the citizens, the town was gained,
the garrison not daring to defend them against their wills. His
Majesty made his public entrance into the city on the 14th of April,
and receiving the compliments of the citizens, advanced immediately to
Ingolstadt, which is accounted, and really is, the strongest town in
all these parts.

The town had a very strong garrison in it, and the Duke of Bavaria lay
entrenched with his army under the walls of it, on the other side of
the river. The king, who never loved long sieges, having viewed the
town, and brought his army within musket-shot of it, called a council
of war, where it was the king's opinion, in short, that the town would
lose him more than 'twas worth, and therefore he resolved to raise his
siege.

Here the king going to view the town had his horse shot with a
cannon-bullet from the works, which tumbled the king and his horse
over one another, that everybody thought he had been killed; but he
received no hurt at all. That very minute, as near as could be learnt,
General Tilly died in the town of the shot he received on the bank of
the Lech, as aforesaid.

I was not in the camp when the king was hurt, for the king had sent
almost all the horse and dragoons, under Gustavus Horn, to face the
Duke of Bavaria's camp, and after that to plunder the 

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