Two regiments of Imperial cuirassiers rode up to meet him; the king charged them at the head of his Swedes; he was in the thickest of the fight; his horse received a ball through the neck; Gustavus had his arm broken; the bone came through the sleeve of his coat; he wanted to have it attended to, and begged the Duke of Saxe-Altenburg to assist him in leaving the battle-field; at that very moment, Falkenberg, lieutenant-colonel in the Imperial army, galloped his horse on to the king and shot him, point-blank, in the back with a pistol.  The king fell from his horse; and Falkenberg took to flight, pursued by one of the king’s squires, who killed him.  Gustavus Adolphus was left alone with a German page, who tried to raise him; the king could no longer speak; three Austrian cuirassiers surrounded him, asking the page the name of the wounded man; the youngster would not say, and fell, riddled with wounds, on his master’s body; the Austrians sent one more pistol-shot into the dying man’s temple, and stripped him of his clothes, leaving him only his shirt.  The melley recommenced, and successive charges of cavalry passed over the hero’s corpse; there were counted nine open wounds and thirteen scars on his body when it was recovered towards the evening.

[Illustration:  Death of Gustavus and his Page——­290]

One of the king’s officers, who had been unable to quit the fight in time to succor him, went and announced his fall to Duke Bernard of Saxe-Weimar.  To him a retreat was suggested; but, “We mustn’t think of that,” said he, “but of death or victory.”  A lieutenant-colonel of a cavalry regiment made some difficulty about resuming the attack:  the duke passed his sword through his body, and, putting himself at the head of the troops, led them back upon the enemy’s intrenchments which he carried and lost three times.  At last he succeeded in turning the cannon upon the enemy, and “that gave the turn to the victory, which, nevertheless, was disputed till night.”

“It was one of the most horrible ever heard of,” says Cardinal Richelieu; “six thousand dead or dying were left on the field of battle, where Duke Bernard encamped till morning.”

When day came, he led the troops off to Weisenfeld.  The army knew nothing yet of the king’s death.  The Duke of Saxe-Weimar had the body brought to the front.  “I will no longer conceal from you,” he said, “the misfortune that has befallen us; in the name of the glory that you have won in following this great prince, help me to exact vengeance for it, and to let all the world see that he commanded soldiers who rendered him invincible, and, even after his death, the terror of his enemies.”  A shout arose from the host, “We will follow you whither you will, even to the end of the earth.”