ich had raged in every corner of the city? Would you compare
the victors, upon the whole, with our late friends and protectors, go
through all Saxony, and then judge in whose favour the parallel must be
drawn.

It was half past one o'clock when the allies penetrated into the city.
The artillery had been but little used on this occasion, and in the
interior of the place not at all. Had not the allies shewn so much
tenderness for the town, they might have spared the sacrifice of some
hundreds of their brave soldiers. They employed infantry in the assault,
that the city might not be utterly destroyed. The grand work was now
nearly accomplished. Obstinately as the French in general defended
themselves, they were, nevertheless, unable to withstand the iron masses
of their assailants. They were overthrown in all quarters, and driven
out of the place. The streets, especially in the suburbs, were strewed
with dead. The writer often counted eight in a very small space. In
about an hour you might venture abroad without danger in all parts of
the town. But what sights now met the eye! Leipzig, including the
suburbs, cannot occupy an area of much less than one (German) square
mile. In this extent there was scarcely a spot not covered with houses
but bore evidence of the sanguinary conflict. The ground was covered
with carcasses, and the horses were particularly numerous. The nearer
you approached to the Ranstaedt gate, the thicker lay the dead bodies.
The Ranstaedt causeway, which is crossed by what is called the Muehlgraben
(mill-dam), exhibited a spectacle peculiarly horrid. Men and horses were
every where to be seen; driven into the water, they had found their
grave in it, and projected in hideous groups above its surface. Here the
storming columns from all the gates, guided by the fleeing foe, had for
the most part united, and had found a sure mark for every shot in the
closely crowded masses of the enemy. But the most dreadful sight of all
was that which presented itself in the beautiful Richter's garden, once
the ornament of the city, on that side where it joins the Elster. There
the cavalry must have been engaged; at least I there saw a great number
of French cuirasses lying about. All along the bank, heads, arms, and
feet, appeared above the water. Numbers, in attempting to ford the
treacherous river, had here perished. People were just then engaged in
collecting the arms that had been thrown away by the fugitives, and they