The Swedes could see that the town of Lutzen was burning, having been set on fire by the Imperial troops at the duke's command, to prevent his troops from being flanked on that side, also to take the heart out of all local troops in the Protestant army. The Swedes sustained the onerous attack, facing a battery with undaunted courage. They passed those terrible trenches with their ice-cold water and carried and turned a battery against their adversaries. The first five Imperial brigades were immediately routed, the second soon after, and the third put to flight. Just then Wallenstein came in person with fresh troops upon the broken ranks of the Swedes, the fighting was hand to hand, leaving no room to reload, the guns were clubbed, or used as pikes, the Swedes were driven back, the battery recaptured and turned upon them, then in retreat they had again to wade those awful irrigating canals. A thousand of the Protestant army lay dead, and not a foot gained. In the meantime the king commanded the right wing, which fell upon the enemy's left. The Finnish cuirassiers dispersed the Poles and Croats, who fled, throwing the cavalry into panic and causing death and confusion to the enemy. At this moment word was brought to the king of the disaster to his left wing, which was even then retreating across those terrible ditches. He called General Horn to take his command and repaired with a splendid regiment to the support of the left wing. His good horse sprang over every ditch just as he came to it, his regiment could not keep up with him, and only a few of his staff kept at his side, among them Francis Albert, Duke of Saxe-Lauenburg. He rode to where his infantry were most pressed, and while he was reconnoitering for the point of attack his nearsightedness led him too close to the enemy's line. An Imperial corporal noticing that in every place people gave way for him, called to a sharpshooter, "That is a man of consequence, fire at him!" The soldier fired and the left arm of the king was shattered. At that moment his regiment arrived and a cry of anguish went up, "Our king is shot! The king bleeds!" "Oh, it is nothing," shouted the king, "follow me." He led a short way, then realizing that he would fall, he said in French to the Duke of Lauenburg, "Lead my horse, take me out of the battle. I faint." The duke tried to do this by retiring by the right wing in order to keep this discouraging sight from the infantry. The king was wounded again, this time through the back. He said, "Brother, I have enough! Look now to your own life." At this moment he fell from his horse, which dragged him some distance, literally riddled with shots, and, in some unexplainable way, he was separated from all his attendants except his faithful young page, Lenbelfingen, who was run through the body by a sword thrust.