met at Lutzen on November 6, 1632. A dense fog
shrouded the movements of each side from the other, and created a
fearful confusion. Wallenstein ranged his infantry in squares, having
a ditch in front, and flanked by his cavalry. Gustavus headed his men
and charged the enemy across the ditch. But his own infantry was borne
down by the black cuirassiers of Wallenstein, and, as he turned to
attack them, the thick fog concealed their approach. His horse was
wounded, and he himself had his arm broken. In moving off the field he
was shot in the back, and falling from his saddle was dragged in the
stirrup. He fell into the hands of the cuirassiers, one of whom, as
the Swedes came up to the succor of their king, shot him through the
head. His corpse was discovered after the battle, and honorably
buried. The death of their king caused the deepest affliction to the
Swedes, but aroused instead of enfeebling their courage. A charge of
the Duke of Weimar, one of the Protestant leaders, threw Wallenstein's
infantry and cavalry into disorder. An attempt of the Imperialist
General Pappenheim, who now came up with a reserve to retrieve the
battle, was for a time successful. But as the tide of fortune seemed
turning against the Swedes, a reserve of their own army made a last
desperate charge, carried the ditch which protected Wallenstein's
infantry, and won the day; the Imperialists fleeing in all directions
and their great leader escaping into Bohemia.

This defeat was the death-blow to Wallenstein's fortunate career. The
Swedes continued to carry on the war successfully under the able
minister of Gustavus, Oxenstiern, and the valiant Duke of Weimar.
Meantime Wallenstein, after some slight victories in Saxony and
Silesia, remained inactive. He at the same time assumed an air of
extreme pride and self-sufficiency, which exasperated his enemies and
gave occasion for their slanders. He was accused to Ferdinand of
designing to seize the Empire,--a charge which seemed the more
credible, on account of an offer having been made by France to assist
him in obtaining the Bohemian crown. This proposition, however, he had
firmly refused. The emperor's intention of removing him from the
command of the army having reached his ears, he declared he would
resign, but was persuaded to remain by his officers, who at a great
banquet, all, with wild and perhaps drunken enthusiasm, signed a
promise of inviolable attachment to his person. This, too, was
int