Wallenstein expelled the Saxons who had invaded Bohemia. But he showed disinclination to assist the elector of Bavaria, who was compelled to leave his country. At Eger, Wallenstein was reinforced and marched on Nuremberg with an army of 60,000, prepared to meet Gustavus Adolphus. He was confident of his superior force. “Within four days,” he said, “it shall become evident whether I or the Swedish king is the master of Germany.” Gustavus Adolphus hastened to relieve Nuremberg, taking his position in the immediate neighborhood of said town. He had only 18,000 men with him, but he surrounded this army with solid fortifications, and Wallenstein dared not risk an attack, in spite of his superior force. Wallenstein took his position at the summit of three steep hills, surrounded by trenches and ramparts. His intention was to cut off the Swedes from all sources of supplies and force them to surrender by starvation. “I shall teach the Swedish king,” he said, “a new method of warfare.”
For nine weeks the two armies were facing each other. The suffering became great in both camps. The Swedes suffered most, although the inhabitants of Nuremberg tried their utmost to supply them with food. When the provisions were diminishing, the bonds of discipline were loosened. Especially the Germans of the Swedish army made themselves conspicuous by licentiousness and plunder. Gustavus Adolphus decided to try an attack on Wallenstein’s camp, in order to put an end to the critical state of things. He was so much more anxious to risk it, as his army had been considerably reinforced and was almost equal to Wallenstein’s in numbers. At noon, August 24, 1632, the Swedish army made ready for battle. The attack was first made on Burgstall, the most important one of the three hills occupied by the enemy. The battle was a fierce and bloody one, the whole mountain being clothed in fire and smoke. Several of the most distinguished of the Swedish officers were killed or captured. A bullet passed through the boot of the king; an officer was killed at his side. The Swedes were thrown back on one hand, while on the other, Duke Bernhard of Weimar, one of the German commanders of the king, succeeded in capturing one of the forts built on the Burgstall. But as the day was over and the army exhausted, the Swedes were not able to profit by their success. A heavy rain commenced, continuing through the night. This made it impossible to haul any cannon up to the captured fort, which was then abandoned. The Swedish army returned to the camp. This unsuccessful attack cost the Swedes almost 2,000 men. Gustavus Adolphus wrote in regard to it: “It was too much to be considered a page’s trick, but too small to be of real earnest.” Wallenstein wrote of it. “Never in my life have I seen a more desperate fire, but I hope that the Swedes have lost their horns in this conflict.”
The king broke camp a fortnight later, arranging his army into a line of battle. For four hours he waited for Wallenstein to come forward, but the latter did not risk an attack. Gustavus Adolphus intended to enter Swabia, to complete the conquest of Southwestern Germany. But Wallenstein, who soon afterward also broke camp, invaded Saxony. This caused the king to change his plans. He was obliged to follow Wallenstein in order to protect his ally and to avoid the danger of being cut off from the connections with his own empire. Wallenstein marked his way by cruel devastation, and the appeals of the unhappy population persuaded the king to take an early decision.
The people of Saxony received Gustavus Adolphus with great enthusiasm, of which they gave evidence in the most exultant manner. People were seen kneeling everywhere on his way, imploringly stretching their hands toward him. The king was not content with their exaggerated devotion. “I fear that God is offended by their vain demonstrations of joy and soon shall show them that the one whom they adore as a god is naught but a weak and mortal man.”
Wallenstein was in the neighborhood of Leipsic, at the little town of Lutzen. He had sent away Pappenheim, his best sub-commander, to Halle with a considerable force. Gustavus Adolphus found this circumstance favorable and decided on an attack.
It was the 6th of November, 1632. A heavy mist covered the spacious fields around Leipsic. Wallenstein was, with the right wing of his army, close on Lutzen, the little town being set on fire, in order not to shield a clandestine attack. The flame of the conflagration appeared dull but magnified through the mists of the early morning. In front of the imperial army was the highway. Musketeers were stationed in and above the ditches, which were made deeper and provided with ramparts. The musketeers were so arranged that higher lines could shoot over the heads of the lower ones. Behind them was another chain of musketeers. The artillery was placed partly behind the musketeers, partly on the sides of a hill where some windmills were situated. The cavalry was placed on the wings, the infantry in the centre, both arranged in great square divisions. A courier had been sent to recall Pappenheim, as the army without his force counted only 18,000 men. The Swedish army was 20,000 strong and was arranged according to a plan similar to the one followed at Breitenfeld. It was arranged in two lines. Musketeers were interspersed among the cavalry. The regimental artillery was placed before the front. The king commanded the right wing, Nils Brahe the centre, Kniephausen the second line of the centre, and Duke Bernhard the left wing.
The king, who for the time being had none of his best officers around him, spent the night in a wagon, together with Duke Bernhard and Kniephausen. He rose in the morning, dressed, without armor, in a blouse and a gray coat, and mounted his usual white charger, without having tasted food. He conducted in person the morning prayers of the army, when Luther’s psalm, “Eine feste Burg ist unser Gott,” was sung. After the song had ceased, the king made a short speech in Swedish, which he repeated in German. He said: “There you have the enemy. He is not now at the top of the hill or behind intrenchments, but in the open field. You know well how eagerly he has sought to avoid a conflict and that he is forced to fight because he cannot escape us. Fight, then, my dear countrymen and friends, for God, your country and your king. I will reward you all. But if you flinch, you know well that not a man of you will ever see his country again.” Then the psalm, “Versage nicht du Hæuflein klein,” the words of which were written in German by Gustavus Adolphus himself, was sung. The king gave the sign of attack by waving his sword over his head and cried: “Forward in God’s name; Jesu, Jesu, Jesu, help us to-day to strive to the honor of thy holy name!”
It was eleven o’clock, and the mists had, to a great extent, scattered. The Swedish centre, with the battery behind, marched toward the highway. The left wing made an attempt to penetrate between the burning Lutzen and the batteries below the windmills. A terrible fire from muskets and cannon met the attacking Swedes. Whole lines of infantry were killed. The left wing suffered in particular. But when the Swedes reached their destination, the centre moved on with great force, cleaning the ditches of musketeers, capturing seven pieces of artillery and making two of the great squares of imperial infantry retire from their position. While fighting the third, the Swedes were surprised by the reserve and cavalry forces of the enemy, and had to abandon what they had taken, retiring into the open field.
The king had, in the meantime, with the cavalry of the right wing, forced the ditches. When notified of the danger in which the centre was placed, he hurried to assist his infantry. At the head of his Smaland cavalry he moved on so quickly that he was separated from the rest of his forces. The king was near-sighted and the mist once more thickening. For these reasons he happened to ride close up to the lines of the imperial cuirassiers. His horse was wounded, and the king himself received a pistol shot in the arm. He turned to one of his companions, Duke Frantz Albrecht, of Sachsen-Lauenburg, with a request to be escorted out of the battle, but was at that instant wounded in the back, immediately falling off his horse. Duke Frantz Albrecht, only thinking of saving his own life, fled from the spot. But a German page, eighteen years of age, who accompanied the king, jumped from his horse and tried to assist the king in mounting it. Some imperial cavalrymen passed by. They inquired for the name of the wounded lord. The page tried to hide his identity, but Gustavus Adolphus answered: “I was once the king of Sweden.” One of the imperialists attempted to drag the king with him, but seeing some Swedish soldiers approaching, he sent in leaving a bullet through the wounded hero’s brain.
The Swedes had been thrown back from the highway all over the line. The white horse of the king, with empty saddle and stained with blood, was seen galloping before the front. The message of mourning spread with lightning rapidity through the army, causing universal sorrow and anger. The ambition to avenge the death of the beloved king was kindled in every breast. Duke Bernhard at once assumed supreme command when notified of the catastrophe. The sagacious Kniephausen thought the battle lost and considered it best to retire in good order. The duke answered: “Here is not the question of retreat, but of revenge in victory or death.” The Swedish line of battle soon moved forward once more and with redoubled strength. The right wing, commanded by the valiant Stolhandske, threw back the imperial troops who had caused the fall of the king. Nils Brahe once more carried the troops of the centre across the highway and captured for a second time the seven pieces of artillery. The left wing, commanded by Duke Bernhard, also moved forward victoriously, capturing the batteries at the windmill and pointing the cannon toward the enemy. When simultaneously some wagons loaded with powder for the imperial artillery exploded with a tremendous roar, the whole army of Wallenstein was thrown into a state of confusion. It was thought that the Swedes had made an attack from the rear. The cavalry fled in great numbers with the cries: “We know the king of Sweden! He is worst toward the end of the day.”