Gustavus Adolphus had resumed his course of success: he came up with Tilly again on the Leek, April 10, 1632, and crushed his army; the general was mortally wounded, and the King of Sweden, entering Augsburg in triumph, proclaimed religious liberty there. He had moved forward in front of Ingolstadt, and was making a reconnoissance in person. “A king is not worthy of his crown who makes any difficulty about carrying it wherever a simple soldier can go,” he said. A cannon-ball carried off the hind quarters of his horse and threw him down. He picked himself up, all covered with blood and mud. “The fruit is not yet ripe,” he cried, with that strange mixture of courage and fatalism which so often characterizes great warriors; and he marched to Munich, on which he imposed a heavy war-contribution. The Elector of Bavaria, strongly favored by France, sought to treat in the name of the Catholic League; but Gustavus Adolphus required complete restitution of all territories wrested from the Protestant princes, the withdrawal of the troops occupying the dominions of the evangelicals, and the absolute neutrality of the Catholic princes. “These conditions smacked rather of your victorious prince, who would lay down and not accept the law.” He summoned to him all the inhabitants of the countries he traversed in conqueror’s style: _“Surgite d mortuis,”_ he said to the Bavarians, _“et venite ad judieium” (Rise from the dead, and come to judgment)_. Protestant Suabia had declared for him, and Duke Bernard of Saxe-Weimar, one of his ablest lieute ants, carried the Swedish arms to the very banks of the Lake of Constance. The Lutheran countries of Upper Austria had taken up arms; and Switzerland had permitted the King of Sweden to recruit on her territory. “Italy began to tremble,” says Cardinal Richelieu; “the Genevese themselves were fortifying their town, and, to see them doing so, it seemed as if the King of Sweden were at their gates; but God had disposed it otherwise.”