had already formed a pile of them far exceeding the height of a man.

The smoking ruins of whole villages and towns, or extensive tracts laid
waste by inundations, exhibit a melancholy spectacle; but a field of
battle is assuredly the most shocking sight that eye can ever behold.
Here all kinds of horrors are united; here Death reaps his richest
harvest, and revels amid a thousand different forms of human suffering.
The whole area has of itself a peculiar and repulsive physiognomy,
resulting from such a variety of heterogeneous objects as are no where
else found together. The relics of torches, the littered and trampled
straw, the bones and flesh of slaughtered animals, fragments of plates,
a thousand articles of leather, tattered cartouch-boxes, old rags,
clothes thrown away, all kinds of harness, broken muskets, shattered
waggons and carts, weapons of all sorts, thousands of dead and dying,
horribly mangled bodies of men and horses,--and all these
intermingled!--I shudder whenever I recall to memory this scene, which,
for the world, I would not again behold. Such, however, was the
spectacle that presented itself in all directions; so that a person, who
had before seen the beautiful environs of Leipzig, would not have known
them again in their present state. Barriers, gardens, parks, hedges, and
walks, were alike destroyed and swept away. These devastations were not
the consequence of this day's engagement, but of the previous
bivouacking of the French, who are now so habituated to conduct
themselves in such a manner that their bivouacs never fail to exhibit
the most deplorable attestations of their presence, as to admit no hopes
of a change. The appearance of Richter's garden was a fair specimen of
the aspect of all the others. Among these the beautiful one of Loehr was
particularly remarkable. Here French artillery had been stationed
towards Goehlis; and here both horses and men had suffered most severely.
The magnificent buildings, in the Grecian style, seemed mournfully to
overlook their late agreeable, now devastated, groves, enlivened in
spring by the warbling of hundreds of nightingales, but where now
nothing was to be heard, save the loud groans of the dying. The dark
alleys, summer-houses, and arbours, so often resorted to for recreation,
social pleasures, or silent meditation, were now the haunts of death,
the abode of agony and despair. The gardens, so late a paradise, were
transformed into the seat of corru