Thirty Years’ War: Battle of Breitenfeld

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Upon Karl’s death, 16-year-old Gustavus had inherited a nascent Swedish militia of woodsmen and peasants — and a war with Poland. Following the example of Maurice, he had formed the militia into the hard core of what was to become Europe’s most formidable army, defeating Poland, Denmark and Russia in succession.

The rise of Swedish power had not gone unnoticed in the south. Ferdinand had, in fact, sent aid to the Poles to forestall the Swedish threat. But France’s prime minister, Cardinal Richelieu, preferred a Germany of bickering Protestants to one of Catholics united under the Hapsburgs, and countered with an offer of truce and financial backing for the Swedes. By 1630, Gustavus was ready to invade Germany. The ‘Swedish phase’ of the Thirty Years’ War had begun.

In July, he crossed the Baltic with 13,000 men, mostly native Swedes with a complement of Scottish and Irish mercenaries, but a puny force with which to take on the 100,000 soldiers of the Holy Roman Empire. Gustavus, as the self-styled ‘Protector of Protestantism,’ expected to fill his ranks with grateful Germans. But the presence of another army, even a friendly one, in those days when all armies lived off the land — that is to say, by looting — did not thrill his hosts. Although Gustavus kept his men on a tight rein, the Saxons and the Brandenburgers remained as suspicious of him as of their emperor, and were determined to remain independent of both. ‘They know not whether they would be Lutheran or popish, imperialist or German, slave or free,’ fumed Gustavus. Their de facto leader, the Saxon Elector Johann Georg I, avoided commitment to Gustavus, sought a settlement with Ferdinand, and set about raising an army of his own.

Meanwhile, Count Tilly, his troops quartered in the Oder Valley, also found himself on unfriendly ground. Wallenstein, now the landlord of that part of Germany, not only refused to feed and shelter his former army but also threatened to ally with the Swedes. The Catholic forces would not survive another winter where they were. The 72-year-old Tilly had grown exceedingly cautious and indecisive, but at the urging of his heavy cavalry commander, Count Pappenheim, he settled on laying siege to Magdeburg, the prosperous fortress city that commanded the Elbe River and had so far resisted Imperial domination.

To champion Magdeburg would prove Gustavus’ sincerity and give him a strategic base, but without German aid he could do little. He sent Hessian Colonel Dietrich von Falkenberg with orders to hold the city until the main Swedish force could relieve him. Falkenberg found it easier to strengthen the city’s fortifications than its fortitude. The mixed population of Lutherans and Catholics, uncertain whether his presence would prevent or invite attack, included a large contingent of Imperial sympathizers. ‘There is little wisdom here, we live from day to day,’ reported the colonel to the king. With Gustavus still loose on the field, Tilly, who had doubts that Magdeburg could be taken, sent Pappenheim to conduct the siege. Bold, dashing and wholly unsuited to the slow reduction of fortifications, Pappenheim set about knocking off the city’s outlying redoubts one by one.

As the Imperial noose tightened, Falkenberg set fire to the suburbs, destroyed the bridge over the Elbe and withdrew the defenders behind the city walls. The citizens, frantic to avoid the sacking that inevitably followed a city’s capture, began to urge surrender.

Johann Georg still refused to back Gustavus, who in fact was afraid to come to Magdeburg’s aid with the Saxon army jeopardizing his rear. Tilly arrived outside the city walls, unaware of his foe’s predicament. When Gustavus tried to distract him by capturing Frankfurt-an-der-Oder, Tilly gave Magdeburg’s city council a choice: unconditional surrender or total destruction.

Despite Falkenberg’s efforts, the council seemed ready to yield. But on the morning of May 20, 1631, with Tilly’s messenger within the walls awaiting an answer, the Imperialists attacked. Some said the treachery was Tilly’s; others said that Pappenheim, afraid the city might avoid a sack, attacked on his own. In any event, the surprise was total. Falkenberg, killed in the first moments, did not live to see the burghers’ fears borne out beyond their worst nightmares.

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Tags: 17th - 18th Century, Historical Conflicts

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