The Turks, finding their efforts useless, resumed the work of mining, directing their efforts against the same bastion.  On the 10th of September the new mine was sprung, and this time with such effect that a breach was made through which a whole Turkish battalion was able to force its way.

This city now was in the last extremity of danger; unless immediate relief came all would soon be lost.  The garrison had been much reduced by sickness and wounds, while those remaining were so completely exhausted as to be almost incapable of defence.  Ruediger had sent courier after courier to the Duke of Lorraine in vain.  In vain the lookouts swept the surrounding country with their eyes in search of some trace of coming aid.  All seemed at an end.  During the night a circle of rockets was fired from the tower of St. Stephen’s as a signal of distress.  This done the wretched Viennese waited for the coming day, almost hopeless of repelling the hosts which threatened to engulf them.  At the utmost a few days must end the siege.  A single day might do it.

That dreadful night of suspense passed away.  With the dawn the wearied garrison was alert, prepared to strike a last blow for safety and defence, and to guard the yawning breach unto death.  They waited with the courage of despair for an assault which did not come.  Hurried and excited movements were visible in the enemy’s camp.  Could succor be at hand?  Yes, from the summit of the Kahlen Hill came the distant report of three cannon, a signal that filled the souls of the garrison with joy.  Quickly afterwards the lookouts discerned the glitter of weapons and the waving of Christian banners on the hill.  The rescuers were at hand, and barely in time to save the city from its almost triumphant foes.

During the siege the Christian people outside had not been idle.  Bavaria, Saxony, and the lesser provinces of the empire mustered their forces in all haste, and sent them to the reinforcement of Charles of Lorraine.  To their aid came Sobieski, the chivalrous King of Poland, with eighteen thousand picked men at his back.  He himself was looked upon as a more valuable reinforcement than his whole army.  He had already distinguished himself against the Turks, who feared and hated him, while all Europe looked to him as its savior from the infidel foe.

There were in all about seventy-seven thousand men in the army whose vanguard ascended the Kahlen Hill on that critical 11th of September, and announced its coming to the beleaguered citizens by its three signal shots.  The Turks, too confident in their strength, had thoughtlessly failed to occupy the heights, and by this carelessness gave their foes a position of vantage.  In truth, the vizier, proud in his numbers, viewed the coming foe with disdain, and continued to pour a shower of bombs and balls upon the city while despatching what he deemed would be a sufficient force to repel the enemy.