This roused Wallenstein to desperation.  Having secured the cooeperation of his leading officers, he dispatched envoys to the Swedish camp, offering to surrender important fortresses to Oxenstiern, and to join him against the emperor.  It was an atrocious act of treason, and so marvellous in its aspect, that Oxenstiern regarded it as mere duplicity on the part of Wallenstein, intended to lead him into a trap.  He therefore dismissed the envoy, rejecting the offer.  His officers now abandoned him, and Gallas, who was appointed as his successor, took command of the army.

With a few devoted adherents, and one regiment of troops, he took refuge in the strong fortress of Egra, hoping to maintain himself there until he could enter into some arrangement with the Swedes.  The officers around him, whom he had elevated and enriched by his iniquitous bounty, entered into a conspiracy to purchase the favor of the emperor by the assassination of their doomed general.  It was a very difficult enterprise, and one which exposed the conspirators to the most imminent peril.

On the 25th of February, 1634, the conspirators gave a magnificent entertainment in the castle.  They sat long at the table, wine flowed freely, and as the darkness of night enveloped the castle, fourteen men, armed to the teeth, rushed into the banqueting hall from two opposite doors, and fell upon the friends of Wallenstein.  Though thus taken by surprise, they fought fiercely, and killed several of their assailants before they were cut down.  They all, however, were soon dispatched.  The conspirators, fifty in number, then ascended the stairs of the castle to the chamber of Wallenstein.  They cut down the sentinel at his door, and broke into the room.  Wallenstein had retired to his bed, but alarmed by the clamor, he arose, and was standing at the window in his shirt, shouting from it to the soldiers for assistance.

“Are you,” exclaimed one of the conspirators, “the traitor who is going to deliver the imperial troops to the enemy, and tear the crown from the head of the emperor?”

Wallenstein was perfectly helpless.  He looked around, and deigned no reply.  “You must die,” continued the conspirator, advancing with his halberd.  Wallenstein, in silence, opened his arms to receive the blow.  The sharp blade pierced his body, and he fell dead upon the floor.  The alarm now spread through the town.  The soldiers seized their arms, and flocked to avenge their general.  But the leading friends of Wallenstein were slain; and the other officers easily satisfied the fickle soldiery that their general was a traitor, and with rather a languid cry of “Long live Ferdinand,” they returned to duty.