Wallenstein. The Enigma of the Thirty Years War

The Wheel Is Come Full Circle 129

the emperor’s message was so politely, guardedly and diplomatically
expressed as to require reading between the lines to fathom its true
harsh meaning. The unenviable task of conveying it to the general was
allocated to two of his better friends among the emperor’s councillors,
and from a letter written by one of them, Baron Gerhard Questenberg,
to his brother we know that they were in fact received courteously and
without recrimination. They had brought, said Wallenstein, the best
news he could have had; ‘I thank God to be freed from the net.’ The fol-
lowing day he wrote to Collalto: ‘I am glad to my innermost soul about
what they have decided in Regensburg, as it means that I can escape
from this great labyrinth.’^12
Contemporaries were astonished by this mild response, which many
saw as a calculated dissimulation intended to hide the anger and resent-
ment which they assumed Wallenstein to feel. Biographers have long
taken the same view, often asserting that he was largely motivated
thereafter by a desire for revenge on those who had brought about
his downfall, and on the emperor who had sacrificed him to them.
Khevenhüller, the chronicler of Ferdinand’s reign, found an explanation
in astrology, which he and other early historians credited with not only
forewarning Wallenstein of his dismissal but also with foretelling his
reappointment. Hence Khevenhüller presented an alternative account
of Wallenstein’s meeting with Questenberg and his colleague:

The duke received them graciously and politely, and as they sought

to deliver their message in the best manner they could think of he

broke in. Taking a Latin document from the table, which he read

out, and in which his own, the emperor’s and the elector of Bavaria’s

horoscopes were set down, he responded: ‘Gentlemen, you can see

for yourselves that I knew your mission from the stars, and that the

elector of Bavaria’s spirit dominates the emperor’s. Hence I cannot

place any blame on His Majesty, although it pains me, and I will

obey.’^13

Biographers, even the relatively recent Diwald, Polisˇenský and
Kollmann, have repeated this story uncritically, although it is well
known that historical writers from Thucydides until the early nine-
teenth century considered it perfectly acceptable to invent such scenes
and to place appropriate speeches into the mouths of the principals.^14
Had there been any truth in this version it would have been the talk
of Regensburg, but it does not feature in any of the gossip assiduously
gathered and reported back by the various diplomats. Nor, of course,