Fifteen hundred men to help the man who was imperiling his life, his army, his country, to save Saxony! But before the elector had sent that letter, before the fifteen hundred men had left the Saxon camp, the fatal battle had been fought at Lutzen, and the sun had seen the noblest life of that century go out on the field of battle.
On the evening after the council the king heard that Pappenheim had been sent away; this seems to have decided him. He said: "I believe, indeed, that God has delivered the enemy into my hand," and, suddenly breaking camp at Naumburg, he hastened to meet Wallenstein, whose army was weakened by the loss of Pappenheim. For Gustavus to wait for the Saxons would also be waiting for the return of Pappenheim.
The spies soon told Wallenstein that the king's army was on the move, and Wallenstein wrote a frantic letter to Pappenheim. He said: "The enemy is advancing. Sir, let everything else be, and hurry with all your forces and artillery back to me. You must be here by to-morrow morning—he is already over the pass." This letter, all stained with blood, is yet to be seen at the museum in Vienna. Pappenheim carried it into the battle in which he lost his life.
Lutzen is located on a plain over which ran great ditches or canals (which could be waded) for irrigating purposes. Gustavus came up to the enemy on the evening of November 5th, too late, on account of the rugged ground, to make the attack. Most writers affirm that could the battle have taken place on the 5th, before the return of Pappenheim, Gustavus would, no doubt, have secured a great victory. It was late that night before Wallenstein could bring his regiments together. They fell into line of battle just as they came in.
Gustavus had eighteen thousand men, Wallenstein twenty-five thousand, and was momentarily expecting Pappenheim with troops variously estimated at from eight to ten thousand men. The king, with Bernard and Knipenhausen, slept from time to time through the night in the king's day coach. The two armies, that bitter cold night, faced each other, lying down to sleep in the order they had marched, with their arms and equipment within easy reach.
Then the fateful morning of November 6th arrived. It proved to be foggy and very dark. The king sent for his chaplain and they spent an hour in prayer. Divine services were held, as usual, in camp. The whole army, each in his own language, sang Luther's battle hymn, "Ein feste Burg ist unser Gott," "A mighty fortress is our God." The words in the second stanza, "'Tis Jesus Christ," which are the words answering the question, "Askest thou His name?" were usually accompanied with a salute of artillery, that was omitted on this occasion. Then the king himself sang:
"Fear not, O little flock, the foe,
Who madly seek your overthrow,
Dread not his rage and power," etc.
A hymn composed by himself, a hymn which had been sung by his loving people on the last convocation in the palace at Stockholm for his encouragement; now he sang it for theirs.[[4]]