isive action as anxiously
as the general of the League sought it.

With the exception of the troops from the Spanish Netherlands, which had
poured into the Lower Palatinate, the Emperor had hitherto made use only
of the arms of Bavaria and the League in Germany. Maximilian conducted
the war as executor of the ban of the empire, and Tilly, who commanded
the army of execution, was in the Bavarian service. The Emperor owed
superiority in the field to Bavaria and the League, and his fortunes
were in their hands. This dependence on their goodwill, but ill
accorded with the grand schemes, which the brilliant commencement of the
war had led the imperial cabinet to form.

However active the League had shown itself in the Emperor's defence,
while thereby it secured its own welfare, it could not be expected that
it would enter as readily into his views of conquest. Or, if they still
continued to lend their armies for that purpose, it was too much to be
feared that they would share with the Emperor nothing but general odium,
while they appropriated to themselves all advantages. A strong army
under his own orders could alone free him from this debasing dependence
upon Bavaria, and restore to him his former pre-eminence in Germany.
But the war had already exhausted the imperial dominions, and they were
unequal to the expense of such an armament. In these circumstances,
nothing could be more welcome to the Emperor than the proposal with
which one of his officers surprised him.

This was Count Wallenstein, an experienced officer, and the richest
nobleman in Bohemia. From his earliest youth he had been in the service
of the House of Austria, and several campaigns against the Turks,
Venetians, Bohemians, Hungarians, and Transylvanians had established his
reputation. He was present as colonel at the battle of Prague, and
afterwards, as major-general, had defeated a Hungarian force in Moravia.
The Emperor's gratitude was equal to his services, and a large share of
the confiscated estates of the Bohemian insurgents was their reward.
Possessed of immense property, excited by ambitious views, confident in
his own good fortune, and still more encouraged by the existing state of
circumstances, he offered, at his own expense and that of his friends,
to raise and clothe an army for the Emperor, and even undertook the cost
of maintaining it, if he were allowed to augment it to 50,000 men. The
project was universally ridiculed as the chimerical