The Thirty Years' War - James Aitken Wylie

tempest through which they had passed. The silver
of morning appeared in the east; still all was calm.
The sun of a May day beamed forth, and showed
the imperial encampment apparently reposing.
One-half of the garrison, by order of
Falkenberg, had been withdrawn from the walls,
the wearied citizens were drowned in sleep, and the
few who were awake were about to repair to the
churches to offer thanks for their deliverance,
when, at seven of the morning, sudden as the
awakening of a quiescent volcano, a terrific storm
broke over the city.
The roar of cannon, the ringing of the tocsin,
the shouts of assailants, blending in one frightful
thunder-burst, awoke the citizens. Stunned and
terrified, they seized their arms and rushed into the
street, only to find the enemy pouring into the town
over the ramparts and through two of the gates, of
which they had already gained possession.
Falkenberg, as he was hurrying from post to post,
was cut down at the commencement of the assault.
His fall was fatal to the defense, for the attack not
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