The Emperor Ferdinand had recalled the only general capable of making a stand against Gustavus Adolphus.  Wallenstein, deeply offended, had for a long while held out; but, being assured of the supreme command over the fresh army which Ferdinand was raising in all directions, he took the field at the end of April, 1632.  Wallenstein effected a junction with the Elector of Bavaria, forcing Gustavus Adolphus back, little by little, on Nuremberg.  “I mean to show the King of Sweden a new way of making war,” said the German general.  The sufferings of his army in an intrenched camp soon became intolerable to Gustavus Adolphus.  In spite of inferiority of forces, he attacked the enemy’s redoubts, and was repulsed; the king revictualled Nuremberg, and fell back upon Bavaria.  Wallenstein at first followed him, and then flung himself upon Saxony, and took Leipzig; Gustavus Adolphus advanced to succor his ally, and the two armies met near the little town of Liitzen, on the 16th of November, 1632.

There was a thick fog.  Gustavus Adolphus, rising before daybreak, would not put on his breastplate, his old wounds hurting him under harness:  “God is my breastplate,” he said.  When somebody came and asked him for the watchword, he answered, “God with us;” and it was Luther’s hymn, "Ein feste Burg ist unser Gott” (Our God is a strong tower), that the Swedes sang as they advanced towards the enemy.  The king had given orders to march straight on Lutzen.  “He animated his men to the fight,” says Richelieu, “with words that he had at command, whilst Wallenstein, by his mere presence and the sternness of his silence, seemed to let his men understand that, as he had been wont to do, he would reward them or chastise them, according as they did well or ill on that great day.”

It was ten A. M., and the fog had just lifted; six batteries of cannon and two large ditches defended the Imperialists; the artillery from the ramparts of Liitzen played upon the king’s army, the balls came whizzing about him; Bernard of Saxe-Weimar was the first to attack, pushing forward on Liitzen, which was soon taken; Gustavus Adolphus marched on to the enemy’s intrenchments; for an instant the Swedish infantry seemed to waver; the king seized a pike and flung himself amidst the ranks.  “After crossing so many rivers, scaling so many walls, and storming so many places, if you have not courage enough to defend yourselves, at least turn your heads to see me die,” he shouted to the soldiers.  They rallied:  the king remounted his horse, bearing along with him a regiment of Smalandaise cavalry.  “You will behave like good fellows, all of you,” he said to them, as he dashed over the two ditches, carrying, as he went, two batteries of the enemy’s cannon.  “He took off his hat and rendered thanks to God for the victory He was giving him.”