Impatient were both commanders to engage in the contest which each knew would be decisive.  Long did they wait for opportunities.  At last, on the 16th of November, 1632, the defenders and the foes of German liberties arrayed themselves for the great final encounter.  The Protestants gained the day, but Gustavus fell, exclaiming to the murderous soldiers who demanded his name and quality, “I am the King of Sweden!  And I seal this day, with my blood, the liberties and religion of the German nation.”

The death of Gustavus Adolphus in the hour of victory was a shock which came upon the allies like the loss of the dearest friend.  The victory seemed too dearly purchased.  The greatest protector which Protestantism ever knew had perished, as he himself predicted.  Pappenheim, the bravest of the Austrian generals, also perished; and with him, the flower of Wallenstein’s army.  Schiller thinks that Gustavus died fortunately for his fame; that had he survived the decisive battle of Lutzen, he not only could have dictated terms to the Emperor, but might have yielded to the almost irresistible temptation of giving laws to the countries he had emancipated.  But he did not live to be tried.  That rarest of all trials was reserved alone for our Washington to pass through triumphantly,—­to set an example to all countries and ages of the superiority of moral to intellectual excellence.  Gustavus might have triumphed like Washington, and he might have yielded like Cromwell.  We do not know.  This only we know,—­that he was not merely the great hero of the Thirty Years’ War, but one of the best men who ever wore a crown; that he conferred on the Protestants and on civilization an immortal and inestimable service, and that he is to be regarded as one of the great benefactors of the world.

The Thirty Years’ War loses its dramatic interest after the battle of Lutzen.  The final issue was settled, although the war was carried on sixteen years longer.  It was not till 1648 that the peace of Westphalia was signed, which guaranteed the liberties of Germany, and established the balance of power.  That famous treaty has also been made the foundation of all subsequent treaties between the European nations, and created an era in modern history.  It took place after the death of Richelieu, when Mazarin ruled France in the name of Louis XIV., and when Charles I. was in the hands of Cromwell.

With the death of Gustavus we also partially lose sight of Wallenstein.  He never afterwards gained victories commensurate with his reputation.  He remained, after the battle of Lutzen, unaccountably inactive in Bohemia.  But if his military fame was tarnished, his pride and power remained.  His military exactions became unendurable, and it is probable he was a traitor.  So unpopular did he become, and so suspicious was the Emperor, who lost confidence in him, that he was assassinated by the order of his sovereign.  He was too formidable to be removed in any other way.  He probably deserved his fate.  Although it was difficult to bring this great culprit to justice, yet his death is a lesson to traitors.  “There are many ways,” said Cicero, “in which a man may die,”—­referring to the august usurper of the Roman world.