CHAPTER XXVII.
Yielding to the voice of clemency, the worthy Oberstein sent messengers into the city to admonish them to surrender and save the lives of the starving people; but the answer which orator Rothman gave in the presence of the king, was, like the preceding one, the sending back of the messengers with a paraphrase of the passage in the prophet Daniel of the four ferocious beasts, in the description of which, he said, the bishop might easily learn to know himself.
The last of mercy's sands had finally run, and the next night was determined on for the attack. It was on the 13th of June, 1533, an hour before midnight, that Hanslein, in perfect silence, led five hundred volunteers through the shallow place in the ditch and thence upon the walls. The sleeping sentinels were cut down, and the detachment reached the little gate without hindrance. This was broken down and the soldiers rushed into the city. The alarm was, however, now given. The armed burghers, who had hastily collected, beat back the last of the entering troops, closed, and occupied the gate, and then attacked with redoubled rage those who had already entered. An hour and a half they endured the bloody onslaught in the dark, until Hanslein with the rest of his band broke through the nearest weakly guarded gate. The commander in chief, guided by Alf, waited for this event with the main force; and, as the gate was burst open from within and its wings flew asunder, the bishop's troops poured with loud cries into the city. The victory was not, however, yet won. Each footstep in advance was at the expense of much blood of the half starved fanatics; and when finally Oberstein with resistless power forced them back, they retired only towards the market-place at St. Lambert's church; there once more to make a stand. Here was the king, who had suddenly sprung from his bed, with the best of his people, and this availed to renew the fight. Bloodily the red morning rose upward over the promiscuous slaughter; and the battle, now that friends and enemies could rightly discern each other, became regular; by which the anabaptists gained nothing. Alf kept himself constantly at the side of the general, only defending himself when necessary, as he did not like to draw his sword against his fellow citizens; but now, amid the tumult, he caught a glimpse of the infamous Johannes as he was stimulating his troops to the fight. Then the wrath of the youth kindled into a mightier flame. 'Eliza!' cried he, urging his horse to the place occupied by the king. Right and left the foot-soldiers were overthrown before the hoofs of his springing charger, and he soon approached the spot. 'Eliza!' cried he once again, as he reached the king,--and, as if he did not hold the monster worthy a soldier's blade, he struck him so heavily on his mailed breast with the hilt of his sword, that he shrunk almost double. Then, with a strong hand, he lifted the swooning king from his horse, and taking him like a stolen maiden before himself on the pummel of his saddle, darted back to the commander in chief. 'I bring you here the torch of this unrighteous war,' said he. 'Dispose of him as you deem proper.'
'The bishop has expressly reserved to himself,' answered Oberstein, with sad earnestness, 'the duty of deciding on the fate of the leaders. Therefore take a sufficient number of men; let the wretch be strongly chained, and hold him in close custody. I shall require him at your hands when the proper time arrives. You may safely count upon your reward.'
The battle had continued until now. Orator Rothman, observing the capture of the king, and despairing of the fortune of the day, precipitated himself, sword in hand, upon the thickest crowds of the enemy, that he might not fall into their hands alive; and fell, bravely fighting, more honorably than he had lived. Knipperdolling and Krechting having disappeared, the rest of the anabaptists, deprived of their frantic leaders, and terrified by the universal massacre, threw away their arms and begged for quarter, which the commander in chief immediately granted. The worthy old general gazed sorrowfully upon the dead and dying, who deluged the marketplace with their blood, and upon the pale, meagre countenances, distorted by the sufferings they had experienced, of those who were left; and observed with heartfelt compassion, 'poor fools, you might have obtained pardon at a cheaper rate!'