Beneath the cut and slash of gunfire and cavalry countercharge, the Imperial attack came apart. Far beyond retreating to their own lines, the survivors fled the field altogether. Pursuing cavalry would have cut them to pieces. Gustavus, however, ordered his horsemen back into line. Pappenheim had removed himself as a threat, but the Swedes were not out of danger. Most of Gustavus’ troops, in fact, were effectively out of the fight.

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On the far side of the field, the greater part of the Imperial army stood poised to concentrate its attack on the very end of the Swedish line. Had that line been composed of ponderous infantry squares, lined up in each others’ way, Gustavus would have had no hope of extricating his men from the ensuing disaster. But this was his moment, and he knew it. Now he would prove the superiority of the brigade over the battalion.

On the left, his reserves had thrown back Tilly’s horsemen much as they had Pappenheim’s. Now they formed a new line, at right angles to their own front ranks, pouring into the ditch along the Dben road and blocking the Imperial advance. The lines had pivoted 90 degrees, from roughly east-west to north-south, with the road running down between them.

While his reserve troops held Tilly at bay, Gustavus put his right flank into motion. With their battle cry ‘God with us!’ the brigades swung across the field like a cracking whip, the line so long that their extreme right ended up entirely across the field, charging down the former enemy line until they came upon the Imperial field guns still in position at the far end.

The 30 or more horses required to move each cannon had gone to the Imperial rear before the start of battle; the big guns were more or less immobile, still facing onto the position formerly held by Johann Georg’s Saxons — and now occupied by Tilly’s squares. Making short work of the Imperial gunners, the Swedes quickly turned the guns loose on their former owners, sending 24-pound balls tearing great bloody swaths down the length of the Imperial lines. Meanwhile, Torstensson turned his own guns to bear. Swedish musketeers moved up to blast the enemy in the face, and Swedish cavalry closed in on both sides to hold their targets in place.

The reversal was swift and complete. Suddenly it was Tilly who was enveloped, and cut off from Leipzig as well. In those ranks where so recently had rung cries of ‘Victoria,’ men now found themselves in a trap. The Imperialists, too disorganized to attack, too disciplined to run, could only stand and be cut down. The ‘wide field’ had become a Cannae after all.

Exposed to the blowtorch of close-range Swedish fire, the stately Imperial squares came apart like melting steel, fragments streaming away in retreat, slumping in defeat. Mercenaries always know when to quit; the survivors of Tilly’s now outmoded strategy could be thankful that ‘Magdeburg quarter’ had not yet become the Protestant battle cry.

By 6 p.m. it was all over. Gustavus, who had been in the forefront of the battle all day, dismounted and led his troops in prayer. His army had lost less than 3,000 men, mostly to the opening cannon barrage.

Tilly himself, with a shattered arm and wounds to his chest and neck, barely escaped from the ring of Swedish fire, at one point having to cut his way free of more than a dozen enemy soldiers. He made it back to Leipzig with about four regiments, not enough manpower to hold the city. The next morning, the Imperialists continued their retreat, linking up with Pappenheim and the wayward infantry square, which by removing itself from the battle had escaped destruction. They left behind them nearly 100 battle flags, all their cannons, and 7,000 dead. As a further insult, the 6,000 captured Imperialists, true to their mercenary heritage, promptly enlisted in the Swedish army. Gustavus marched into Leipzig stronger than ever.

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