For the reception of the wounded, in this instance, orders had been given to clear out the corn-magazine, which is capable of accommodating about 2,500. Each of these poor fellows received a written ticket at the outer gate of the city, and was directed to that hospital. The persons who superintended this business never gave it a thought to distribute only such a number of these billets as the building would hold of sick, but continued to send all that came to the corn-magazine, long after it was too full to admit another individual. Overjoyed on having at last found the spot, the wretched cripple exerted his last remains of strength, that he might obtain relief as speedily as possible at the hands of the surgeons. Judge then of the feelings of the unfortunate man when his hopes were here most cruelly disappointed; when he found many hundreds of his fellow-sufferers moaning with anguish on the wet stones, without straw to lie upon, without shelter of any kind, without medical or surgical attendance, nay, even without a drop of water, for which they so often and so earnestly petitioned;—when he was peremptorily refused admittance at the door, and he too had no other resource than to seek a couch like the rest upon the hard pavement, which his wounds veryoften were unable to endure. No more attention was here paid to him than the stones on which he gave vent to his anguish. Many hobbled farther in quest of something to appease the cravings of hunger and thirst. But who could give it them? Extreme want had long prevailed in the city; the very inhabitants had great trouble and difficulty to obtain for money sufficient to make a scanty meal for themselves and their families. The fainting soldier might think himself fortunate if his solicitations procured him a crust of bread or an apple. Thousands were not so lucky.—Such was the state of things at the magazine; such was the spectacle exhibited in all the streets, and especially in the market-place, where every corner provided with a shelter was converted into an hospital. The consequences were inevitable. Many; as might naturally be expected, perished, in the night, of hunger, agony, and cold. Their lot was enviable—they no longer needed any human assistance. What heart would not have bled at such scenes of horror!—and yet it was the very countrymen of these unfortunate wretches who seemed to care the least about them, and passed by with the most frigid indifference, probably because they are so familiarized with such spectacles. O ye mothers, ye fathers, ye sisters of France, had ye here beheld your agonized sons and brothers, the sight, like a hideous phantom, would surely have haunted you to the last moment of your lives. The laurels acquired by your nation have indeed been purchased at a most exorbitant price.
I have forgotten to mention a circumstance worthy of notice in the history of this day. It is this; that in the midst of the cannonade all round Leipzig—when the whole city shook with the thunders of theartillery, and the general engagement had, strictly speaking, but just commenced—all the bells of the churches were rung by French command, to celebrate the victory won in the forenoon. Such an instance was certainly never afforded by any battle which had scarcely begun, and terminated in the total and decisive overthrow of him who had already fancied himself mounted in triumph upon the car of victory. This day, however, the engagement still remained undecided, according to the reports of those who returned from different points of the field of battle. The French had stood as if rooted to the spot—the allies, like rocks of granite. The former had fought like men, the latter like lions. Both parties, inspired with mutual respect, desisted from hostilities during the night.
The combined troops, who had not been able in two sanguinary days to bring the contest to an issue, had, however, during that time gained several essential advantages. They had ascertained the strength of their antagonist, and made themselves acquainted with the nature of the ground. They knew what points were the most vulnerable, and could thence infer how the enemy would manœuvre. They were enabled to make their own dispositions accordingly, and to give to the plan of the grand engagement that perfection by which it is so peculiarly characterized. In this point of view the allies had, without our suspecting it, advanced a considerable step on the night of the third day.
According to the general opinion of the inhabitants of Leipzig, the 17th was destined to be the important day on which the last act of the great tragedy was to be performed. We were, however, mistaken. The morning came, and we heard nothing from either side. We had long ceased to take notice of single shots. TheFrench lines occupied Probstheide, and all the points where they had the preceding day been posted. The order of battle had, however, been considerably changed. The vast armies which had been drawn up to the west and north had almost entirely disappeared. In the forenoon a cannonade commenced about Gohlis, but soon ceased again. In the meadows between the city and Lindenau were posted some cavalry. At a greater distance but few troops were to be seen; and the allies seemed to have renounced any farther attempts on that pass. The left wing of the French grand army extended to Abtnaundorf, and had strong corps posted as far as Taucha; the centre stretched behind the Kohlgärten and Stötteritz to Probstheide, and the right wing reached beyond Konnewitz to the wood and the Elster. Several lines were advanced to Markleeberg. The combined army occupied parallel positions. You will not expect me to say more respecting the order of battle, especially as a circumstantial account of it has already appeared. The motives which occasioned a kind of truce to be observed during the whole of this day are unknown to me. This phenomenon was, the more surprising, as Napoleon is not accustomed long to defer business of such importance. From what I can learn, there was no parleying, as has been asserted, between the contending parties. Several Frenchmen assigned, as a reason, that the emperor expected a strong reinforcement of three corps, and therefore undertook nothing on this day. On all sides columns of smoke were yet seen rising from the villages that were reduced to ashes. All at once the church of Probstheide also appeared in flames. It soon fell in, and is now totally demolished. This fire is said to have been occasioned by negligence.
All the large edifices in the city were now selected for the purpose of being converted into hospitals. The number of the wounded kept continually augmenting, and by far the greatest part of them had still no other shelter than the streets. Many, though after three days of suffering, were yet unable to obtain any assistance. The king resolutely remained in the city, in order, as the event shewed, there to await his fate, whatever it might be. Our condition became every moment more alarming; and, in proportion as our anxiety grew more painful, our hopes diminished. What will become of us before this time to-morrow? was the general question on the evening of that day, and we looked forward with dejection and despondency to the morrow's dawn. We felt much less anxiety in the midst of the thunder of the artillery than we did at the close of this fourth day. It resembled the dead calm which precedes the impending storm. The combined troops took their leave of us for the night, as they had done on the preceding, with the discharge of three cannon. It had been Sunday, and you might almost have imagined that the contending parties had suffered it to pass thus peaceably, out of respect to the commandment—Thou shalt keep the sabbath-day holy.
The 18th of October at length appeared. It was a day equal in importance to many a century; and the fewer History can produce that deserve to be classed along with it, the more memorable it will remain. All that preceded it had merely opened the way, and there were yet almost inaccessible cliffs to climb before we could flatter ourselves with the hope of reaching the wished-for goal. The leaders of the allies had already shewn the ablest French generals, in several grand engagements, that they possessed sufficient means and talentsto dissolve the charm of their invincibility. They were now about to enter the lists with the hero whom a thousand panegyrists, during a period of near twenty years, had extolled far above the greatest generals of ancient and modern times; whose enemies had to boast of but one victory over him at most—a victory which he himself did not admit, as he ascribed the total destruction of his army in Russia to physical causes alone. It was the conqueror of Marengo, Austerlitz, Friedland, Ratisbon, Wagram, and Mojaisk. Fresh laurels entwined his brow at Lützen, Bautzen, and Dresden. Here at Leipzig the allies attempted to wrest them from him who grasps so firmly. It was easy to foresee that with unshaken resolution he would risk all, in order, as on former occasions, to gain all, and to put an end to the campaign with a single blow. He seemed to contemplate nothing less than the utter annihilation of the allies, as all the bridges far and near were broken down to cut off their retreat. Whether the situation in which he had placed himself was such as to justify these hopes, I shall leave to the decision of those who are better qualified to judge. His confidence in victory must, however, have been very strong, as he had made such inadequate preparations for his own retreat.
The action commenced in the centre of the French army beyond Probstheide, probably with the storming of the villages in its front, for we afterwards learned that they were several times taken and recovered. They have been more or less reduced to heaps of rubbish. That the work of slaughter might be completed on this day, it had been begun with the first dawn of morning. So early as nine o'clock all the immense lines from Taucha to Konnewitz were engaged. As the latter village laynearest to us, we could see what was passing there the most distinctly. From Lösnig, a village situated beyond Konnewitz, a hollow, about two thousand paces in length, runs from north-west to south-east. It is bordered with a narrow skirt of wood, consisting of alders, limes, and oaks, and forms an angle with the village. Beyond this line were advanced several French batteries, the incessant movements of which, as well as every single shot, might be clearly distinguished with our glasses. To make myself better acquainted with this neighbourhood, I explored two days afterwards this part of the field of battle, and found that the French artillery must there have formed an open triangle; for the road which runs straight from Leipzig, behind Konnewitz through Dehlis and Lösnig, of course from north to south, was also lined by French batteries. The houses of those villages had served them for apoint d'appuiin the rear, and were most of them dreadfully shattered by the balls of the Austrians. The artillery of the latter seems to have had a great advantage in regard to the ground. The French cannon brought into the line from Konnewitz to Dehlis and Lösnig stood in a hollow—those of the Austrians on eminences. These last had moreover the advantage of enfilading the two angles formed by the batteries of the French. That this had actually been the case was evident from the numbers of French cannoniers and horses lying dead in rows in the line of the above-mentioned villages, where they had been swept down by the guns of their opponents. On the eminences where the hostile cannon were planted the number of dead was much smaller, and these were apparently not artillery-men, but infantry, who were probably engaged in covering those batteries. Thefirearms which lay beside them confirmed the conjecture. This pass must nevertheless have been obstinately defended, as it was not taken the whole day. The fire of musketry grew more and more brisk—a proof that the combatants were already in close action. The Frenchtirailleurscould not be driven out of the woods, on which their right wing was supported. We remarked frequent charges of cavalry, which seemed to decide nothing. All the villages lying beyond Konnewitz, on the road to Borna, as far as Markleeberg, were on fire. The thunder from the French centre, as well as from the left wing, gradually approached nearer to the city. The seventh corps, under general Reynier, was in the left wing, and posted towards Taucha. It was principally composed of Saxons. They had just come into action, and the allies had already brought up a great number of guns against them. To the no small astonishment and consternation of their leader, they suddenly shouldered their arms, marched forward in close files with their artillery, and went over to the enemy. Several French battalions, misled by this movement, joined them, and were immediately disarmed and made prisoners by the allies. The French cuirassiers, suspecting the design of the Saxons, followed, apparently with the intention of falling upon them. The Saxons faced about, and compelled them, by a smart fire of musketry, to return. A volley of small arms was discharged after them, but with no more effect—it did them no injury. Their horse-artillery turned about, and soon dismounted that of the French. They were greeted with a joyfulhurrah!by the Cossacks, who cordially shook hands with their new comrades. The Saxons desired to be immediately led back to the attack of the French. The hearts of these soldiersindividually had long glowed with revenge for all the devastations committed in their native land by their allies and companions in arms, for whom they had so often shed their blood in torrents. The generals of the allies refused on very good grounds to comply with their desire. The Saxons marched a league into the rear of the field of battle, and there bivouacked. Their artillery only was afterwards invited to take part in the engagement, and did great execution. This circumstance had an essential influence on the issue of the contest, inasmuch as the defection of a body of more than 8000 men facilitated the advance of the right wing of the allies. But for this step the Saxons would have fared very badly, as their opponents had already ranged upwards of thirty pieces of cannon against their line, and were bringing up still more to the attack. These now proved the more galling to the ranks of the French, who were driven back almost to the Kohlgärten. From my position this advance of the allies was not to be perceived except by the approach of the thunder of the artillery. The French centre yet stood immoveable; at least we could not observe from the city any change which denoted a retrograde movement. The sanguinary character of this tremendous conflict might be inferred from the thousands of wounded, who hobbled, crawled, and were carried in at the gates. Among the latter were many officers of rank. If you inquired of those who returned from the field, how the battle was going on, the reply almost invariably was—"Badly enough,—the enemy is very strong." A Saxon cuirassier declared, without reserve, that it might be considered as decided, adding, "We have lost a deal of ground already."—Stötteritz and Schönefeld were stormed the same evening. All the streets werecovered with wounded, and fortunate were they who could find a shelter. As for surgical aid and refreshments, these were not to be thought of. A far greater number of those miserable wretches were yet left behind in the villages, as might be seen from the detached limbs, which were piled in heaps, especially at Probstheide.
Had any of the allied corps succeeded this day in penetrating on any side into our city, nothing less than the total destruction of the French army would probably have been the consequence; since it might from this place, as from the centre of the field of battle, have fallen upon the rear of any part of the French force, and have hemmed in both the centre and the wings. This misfortune Napoleon had taken good care to prevent. He now felt, however, that his strength was broken, and that he was no longer in a condition to maintain the contest. He resolved upon retreat, but carefully sought to conceal this intention from his enemies. Though night had come on; yet the cannon thundered as furiously as in the morning, and the fire of musketry was brisker than ever. A long column, with an endless train of artillery, was seen defiling from Probstheide to Konnewitz. Again I trembled for the cause of the allies. These, I imagined, were the French guards, marching to the attack of the right wing. Now methought the moment had arrived when Napoleon would strike the decisive blow, which he had so often deferred till the very last hour. Soon afterwards the cannonade seemed to gain redoubled vigour, and continued an hour without intermission, so that every house in the city was shaken. As, however, it at length ceased without removing to a greater distance, we naturally concluded that this last attack had proved unsuccessful. Morethan ten great conflagrations illumined the whole horizon amid the obscurity of night.
The excessive bustle in the city rendered it impossible for us to observe that the retreat had in fact commenced. The greatest part of the persons attached to the army had already left the city, while the others were making all the requisite preparations for their departure. Most of them had wonderfully changed the tone in which they had spoken the preceding day. They now talked of the miseries of war, deplored the sufferings of the people, and declared that peace would be the greatest of blessings for all parties. The multitude of French officers here was so great, that even those of high rank on the staff were obliged to put up with the most wretched accommodations, for which they paid handsomely, leaving their horses and equipages in the street, where the former frequently ran away. One of these officers sought a night's lodging in a mean house in the author's neighbourhood. He was called up at midnight, and informed that his column had just begun to retreat. He inquired whether the whole army was doing the same—the messenger replied that he did not know. This circumstance first confirmed my belief that the French had sustained a defeat, and rendered the conjecture that their whole army was retreating highly probable. Many Frenchemployésand soldiers had, several days before, while they yet had an opportunity, exchanged their uniform for the plainest attire, that, under this peaceful ægis, they might the more calmly await the issue of events; and that, in case the allies should come upon them too unexpectedly, they might, under the disguise of honest citizens, hasten away to their beloved Rhine without being challenged by the lances of theCossacks. With greater composure than any of them did general Bertrand, the governor of the city, who, perhaps, as an intelligent officer, was the least confident of victory, look forward to the event. He abandoned not his post at the precipitate departure of the emperor, and was in consequence made prisoner the following day.
Such was the conclusion of the fifth day. It beheld a field of battle, of unparalleled extent, strewed with slain; and left one of the most flourishing districts of Saxony, as it were, one general conflagration. With anxious solicitude the people of Leipzig awaited its coming, and with expectations unfulfilled they witnessed its close. Though it appeared probable to us all, that, in this colossal engagement, victory had wholly forsaken the Gallic eagles, still the fate of our city was far from being decided. We were yet in the midst of the crater of the tremendous volcano, which by one mighty effort might hurl us into atoms, and leave behind scarcely a vestige of our existence. Napoleon had received a severe blow; and now it behoved him to oppose an immediate barrier to the impetuous course of the conquerors, and to prevent the total loss of his yet remaining army, artillery, and baggage. The only bulwark that he could employ for this purpose was Leipzig. All that art had formerly done to render it a defensive position had long since disappeared. Planks, hedges, and mud walls, were scarcely calculated to resist the butt-end of a musket. This deficiency it was every where necessary to supply by living walls, and that was in fact done in such a way as filled us all with consternation.
At day-break on the 19th the allies put the finishing hand to the great work. A considerable part of theFrench army, with an immense quantity of artillery, had already passed through and into the city with great precipitation. The troops that covered the retreat were furiously attacked, and driven on all sides into the city. Napoleon attempted to arrest the progress of victory by an expedient which had so often before produced an extraordinary effect, that is, by negotiation. A proposal was made to evacuate the city voluntarily, and to declare the Saxon troops there as neutral, on condition that the retreating army should have sufficient time allowed to withdraw from it with its artillery and waggon-train, and to reach a certain specified point. The allies too clearly perceived what an important advantage would in this case be gained by the French army, which was less anxious for the fate of the city than to effect its own escape. These terms were rejected, and several hundred pieces of artillery began to play upon Leipzig. Our fate would have been decided had the allied sovereigns cherished sentiments less generous and humane than they did. It behoved them to gain possession of Leipzig at any rate; and this object they might have accomplished in the shortest way, and with inconsiderable loss to themselves, if they had bombarded it for one single hour with shells, red-hot balls, and Congreve rockets, with which an English battery that accompanied them was provided. Their philanthropic spirits, on the contrary, revolted at the idea of involving the innocent population of aGermancity in the fate of Moscow and Saragossa. They resolved to storm the town, and to support the troops employed in this duty with artillery no farther than was necessary to silence the enemy, and to force their way through the palisaded avenues and gates.Meanwhile the discharges of artillery, quite close to us, were so tremendous, that each seemed sufficient to annihilate the city. The king of Saxony himself sent flags of truce, entreating that it might be spared. The allies replied that this should be done in as far as the defence of the enemy might render it practicable: they promised, moreover, security to persons and property after the place should be taken, and to enforce as rigid discipline as it was possible on such an occasion. To these assurances they annexed the condition that no French should be secreted in the city, declaring that every house in which one or more of them should be found would run the risk of being reduced to ashes. The cannon, though only in a proportionably small number from the north and east, immediately began to play. They were partly directed against the palisades at the gates, partly against the French artillery which defended the avenues. For more than two hours balls and shells from the east and north frequently fell in the city itself, and in the suburbs. Many a time I was filled with astonishment at the effects of one single ball, which often penetrated through two thick walls, and pursued its course still farther. Though they seldom fell in the streets, it was impossible to venture abroad without imminent hazard of life, as these tremendous visitors beat down large fragments of roofs, chimneys, and walls, which, tumbling with a frightful crash, threatened to bury every passenger beneath their ruins. Still greater havoc was made by the shells, which, bursting as soon as they had descended, immediately set their new habitations in flames. Fortunately for us, but few of these guests were sent into the city. The most that fell came from the north, that is, in the direction of Halle. Three times didfires break out in the Brühl, which, in a short consumed several back buildings contiguous to the city wall, and nothing but the instantaneous measures adopted for their extinction prevented farther damage. The allies had no other object, in dispatching these ministers of destruction, than to shew the retreating enemy, who, in the general confusion and bustle, could no longer move either forward or backward, that, if they now forbore to annihilate him, it was because the innocent citizens might be involved in equal destruction with the fugitives. Pfaffendorf, a farm-house near the north side of the city, had previously been set on fire, when the Russian jägers had penetrated thither through the Rosenthal, and was consumed to the very walls. As this place had been converted into an hospital, many poor fellows there fell a sacrifice to the flames.
You may easily conceive the sensations of the inhabitants of the upper town when we beheld the black clouds of smoke rising from the lower, while the incessant fire of the artillery rendered it impossible for us to repair thither, to obtain information or to afford assistance. Here, as every where else, the fears of the inhabitants were wound up to the highest pitch. A cry was raised that several streets were already in flames, and every one now hastened to his own house, that he might be at hand in case a similar accident should happen there. It became more and more dangerous to remain in the upper stories, which the inhabitants accordingly quitted, and betook themselves to the kitchens and cellars. If such were the terrors of the inmates, old and young, the fears and anxiety of the French who chanced to be in the houses surpassed all description. Many of them were seen weeping likechildren, and starting convulsively at every report of the cannon. In the midst of this hideous uproar I made another attempt to learn what was passing in the suburbs. In the streets I found inexpressible confusion, people running in all directions, officers driving their men to the gates. Cries and shouts resounded from all quarters, though very few of the persons from whom they proceeded knew what they would be at. At this time cartouch-boxes and muskets were to be seen thrown away here and there in the streets. The Saxon grenadier guards were drawn out with wonderful composure and grounded arms, before the royal residence. Every unarmed person anxiously sought to gain the nearest house, but commonly found it shut against him. Several had already lost their lives or been severely wounded by the balls which fell in all directions. Napoleon was still in the city; he was at this moment with our king, with whom he had an animated conversation, which lasted near an hour. Soon afterwards I saw him, accompanied by the king of Naples, proceeding on horseback toward the Ranstädt gate. I had meanwhile taken the opportunity of slipping into a house which overlooks that street, and now for the first time beheld a French retreat in the height of its confusion. Not a vestige of regularity was any where observable. The horse and foot guards poured along in mingled disorder. They would probably have marched in quicker time, had they been permitted by the waggons and cannon, which were locked in one another, and obstructed the way. Between these they were obliged to pass singly, and I really thought that it would be at least six hours before they could all have effected their passage. Immense droves of cattle were cooped up among the crowd. These seemed to be objects of particular concern to the French. They sought out a space, however narrow,along the town-ditch, by which they might drive forward their horned favourites. Whoever was bold enough, and had any hopes of being able to conduct these animals into his own habitation, had now an opportunity of making an advantageous bargain. A few pieces of silver might be carried off with much greater facility than a huge clumsy ox. Notwithstanding all the efforts to preserve this valuable booty from the general wreck, it was absolutely impossible to save the whole of it. Many horned cattle and horses were left behind, and now innocently sought a scanty repast by the city-walls. That, amidst all this "confusion worse confounded," there was no want of shouting and blustering, you may easily imagine, though nobody got forward any faster for all this noise. On a sudden we saw at a distance the emperor himself, with not a numerous retinue, advancing on horseback into the midst of this chaos. He got through better than I expected. I afterwards learned that he took a by-road through a garden to the outer Ranstädt gate. Prince Poniatowsky attempted, higher up, to ford the Elster. The banks on each side are of considerable height, soft and swampy; the current itself narrow, but in this part uncommonly deep and muddy. How so expert a rider should have lost the management of his horse, I cannot imagine. According to report, the animal plunged headlong into the water with him, so that he could not possibly recover himself. He fell a victim to his temerity, and was drowned. His body was found several days afterwards, and interred with all the military honours due to his rank[5].
As the commander-in-chief had so precipitately quitted the city, we could no longer doubt the proximity of the enemy to our walls. The fire of the artillery and musketry in the place, which gradually approached nearer, was a much more convincing proof of this than we desired. The men already began to cut away the traces, in order to save the horses. The bustle among the soldiers augmented; a weak rearguard had taken post in Reichel's garden, to keep the allies in check, in case they should penetrate into the high road. We thought them still at a considerable distance, when a confused cry suddenly proclaimed that the Russians had stormed the outer Peter's gate, and were coming round from the Rossplatz. The French were evidently alarmed. The Russian jägers came upon them all at once, at full speed, with tremendous huzzas and fixed bayonets, and discharged their pieces singly, without stopping.I now thought it advisable to quit my dangerous post, and hasten home with all possible expedition. I was informed by the way that the Prussians had that moment stormed the Grimma gate, and would be in the city in a few minutes. On all sides was heard the firing of small arms, intermixed at times with the reports of the artillery, already playing upon the waggon-train in the suburbs. Musket-balls, passing over the city wall, likewise whizzed through the streets; and, when I ventured to put my head out of the window, I observed with horror, not far from my house, two Prussian jägers pursuing and firing at some Frenchmen who were running away. Behind them I heard the storm-march, and huzzas and shouts ofLong live Frederic William!from thousands of voices. A company of Baden jägers was charged with the defence of the inner Peter's gate. These troops immediately abandoned their post, and ran as fast as their legs would carry them to the market-place, where they halted, and, like the Saxon grenadier guards, fired not a single shot.
Thus the so long feared and yet wished-for hourwas at length arrived. What we should never have expected after the 2nd of May, namely, to see a single Prussian again at Leipzig, was nevertheless come to pass. They had then left us as friends, and, by their exemplary conduct, had acquired our highest respect. We bore them, as well as the Russians, in the most honourable remembrance. They now appeared as enemies, whose duty had imposed on them the task of storming the city. Our sons and brothers had fought against them. What might not be our fate? We had not forgotten that which befell Lübeck, seven years before, under similar circumstances. But they were the warriors of Alexander, Francis, Frederic William, and Charles John; terrible as destroying angels to the foe, kind and generous to the defenceless citizen. As far as the author's knowledge extends, not a man was guilty of the smallest excess within our walls. They even paid in specie for bread, tobacco, and brandy. The suburbs, indeed, fared not quite so well. There many an inhabitant suffered severely; but how was it possible for the commanders to be present every where, and to prevent all irregularities, after a conflict which 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 notbe 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 Ranstädt gate, the thicker lay the dead bodies. The Ranstädt causeway, which is crossed by what is called the Mühlgraben (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, hadhere perished. People were just then engaged in collecting the arms that had been thrown away by the fugitives, and they 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 achange. The appearance of Richter's garden was a fair specimen of the aspect of all the others. Among these the beautiful one of Löhr was particularly remarkable. Here French artillery had been stationed towards Göhlis; 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 corruption and pestilential putridity. A similar spectacle was exhibited by Grosbosch's, Reichel's, and all the other spacious gardens round the city, which the allies had been obliged to storm.—The buildings which had suffered most were those at the outer gates of the city. These were the habitations of the excise and other officers stationed at the gates. Most of them were so perforated as rather to resemble large cages, which you may see through, than solid walls. All this, however, though more than a thousand balls must have been fired at the city, bore no comparison to the mischiefs which might have ensued, and which we had every reason to apprehend. We now look forward to a happier futurity; the commerce of Leipzig will revive; and the activity, industry, and good taste of its inhabitants, will, doubtless, ere long, call forth from these ruins a new and more beautiful creation.
I now summon your attention from these scenes of horror to others of a different kind, the delineation of which is absolutely necessary to complete the picture. Those hosts which had so long been the scourge of Germany and Europe, and had left us this last hideous monument of their presence, perhaps never to return, were now in precipitate flight, as though hurried away by an impetuous torrent. The terrors of the Most High had descended upon them. The conqueror had appeared to them at Leipzig in the most terrific form, and with uplifted arm followed close at their heels. About a league beyond the city the ardour of the pursuit somewhat abated; at Markranstädt the routed army first stopped to take breath, and to form itself in some measure into a connected whole. The booty taken by the allies was immense. The suburbs were crowded with waggons and artillery, which the enemy had been obliged to abandon. It was impossible for the most experienced eye to form any kind of estimate of their numbers. The captors left them all just as they were, and merely examined here and there the contents of the waggons. Many of them were laden with rice, which was partly given away, especially by the Prussians. Many a Frenchman probably missed the usual supply of it for his scanty supper. All the streets were thronged with the allied troops, who had fought dispersed, and now met to congratulate one another on the important victory. Soon after the city was taken, their sovereigns made their entry. The people pressed in crowds to behold their august and so long wished-for deliverers. They appeared without any pomp in the simplest officers' uniforms, attended by those heroes, a Blücher, Bülow, Platow, Barklay de Tolly, Schwarzenberg, Repnin, Sanders, &c. &c.,whom we had so long admired. The acclamations of the people were unbounded. Tens of thousands of voices greeted them withHuzzasandVivats; and white handkerchiefs,—symbols of peace,—waved from every window. Some few indeed were too unhappy to take part in the general joy on this memorable day. It was the only punishment, but truly a severe one, for the abject wretches who have not German hearts in their bosoms. Never did acclamations so sincere greet the ears of emperors and kings as those which welcomed Alexander, Francis, Frederic William, and Charles John. They were followed by long files of troops, who had so gloriously sustained the arduous contest under their victorious banners. In the midst of Cossacks, Prussian, Russian, Austrian, and Swedish hussars, appeared also our gallant Saxon cavalry, resolved henceforward to fight for the liberty of Germany, and the genuine interests of their native land.
A great number of regiments immediately continued their march without halting, and took some the road to Pegau, and others that to Merseburg, in order to pursue the enemy in his left flank and in his rear. Blücher's army had the preceding day advanced to the neighbourhood of Merseburg, where it was now posted in the right flank of the retreating force. Leipzig had nothing more to fear. French officers and soldiers were every where seen intermixed with their conquerors. It was only here and there that they were collected together and conveyed away. Of the greater part but little notice was taken in the first bustle, as all the gates were well guarded, and it was scarcely possible for one of them to escape. Numbers had fled during the assault from their quarters into the suburbs. Many seemed to have left behind valuable effects and money,as I should conjecture from various expressions used by some, who offered, several Napoleon-d'ors to any person who could assist them to reach their lodgings. For this, however, it was now too late. Strict orders were issued against the secreting or entertaining of Frenchmen, and they were therefore obliged to seek, for the moment, a refuge in the hospitals.
Only a small part of the combined troops had gone in pursuit of the French. By far the greatest portion reposed in countless ranks round the town from the fatigues of the long and sanguinary conflict. Part of the army equipage entered, and all the streets were soon crowded to such excess that you could scarcely stir but at the risk of your life. The allied monarchs alighted in the market-place, where the concourse of guards and equipages was consequently immense. Here I saw the late French commandant of the city coming on foot with a numerous retinue of officers and commissaries, and advancing towards the Russian generals. The fate of general Bertrand was certainly most to be pitied; he was a truly honest man, who had no share in those inexpressible miseries in which we had been for the last six months involved. I felt so much the less for the commissaries, whom I have ever considered as the Pandora's box of the French army, whence such numberless calamities have spread over every country in which they have set foot. At the residence of our sovereign I observed no other alteration than that a great number of Saxon generals and officers were collected about it. The life grenadier-guards were on duty as before, and a battalion of Russian grenadiers was parading in front of the windows. No interview, that I know of, took place between the king of Saxony the allied sovereigns. The king of Prussiaremained here longest in conversation with the prince-royal. The emperors of Austria and Russia, as well as the crown-prince of Sweden, returned early to the army. After the departure of the Prussian monarch, our king set out under a strong escort of Cossacks for Berlin, or, as some asserted, for Schwedt.
The French hospitals which we had constantly had here since the beginning of the year, and which, since the battle of Lützen and the denunciation of the armistice, had increased to such a degree as to contain upwards of 20,000 sick and wounded, may be considered as a malignant cancer, that keeps eating farther and farther, and consuming the vital juices. It was these that introduced among us a dreadfully destructive nervous fever, which had increased the mortality of the inhabitants to near double its usual amount. Regarded in this point of view alone, they were one of the most terrible scourges of the city; but they proved a still more serious evil, inasmuch as the whole expense of them fell upon the circle. The French never inquired whence the prodigious funds requisite for their maintenance were to be derived, nor ever thought of making the smallest compensation. If we reckon, for six months, 10,000 sick upon an average, and for each of them 12 groschen per day (and, including all necessaries, they could scarcely be kept at that rate), the amount for each day is 5000, and, for the six months, the enormous sum of 900,000 dollars, which the exhausted coffers were obliged to pay in specie. This calculation, however, is so far below the truth, that it ought rather to be greatly augmented. A tolerable aggregate must have been formed by proportionable contributions from all our country towns, and this was for the service of the hospitals alone: judge then of the rest.
Previously to the battle of Leipzig the state of the inmates of these pestilential dens, these abodes of misery, was deplorable enough, as they were continually becoming more crowded and enlarged. Many of the persons attached to them, and in particular many a valuable and experienced medical man, carried from them the seeds of death into the bosom of his family. With their want of accommodations, cleanliness was a point which could not be attained, and it was impossible to pass them without extreme disgust. As Leipzig was for a considerable time cut off from the rest of the world by the vast circle of armies, like the mariner cast upon a desert island, the wants of these hospitals became from day to day more urgent. Provisions also at length began to fail. The distress had arrived at its highest pitch, when the thousands from the field of battle applied there for relief. Not even bread could any longer be dispensed to these unfortunates. Many wandered about without any kind of shelter. Then did we witness scenes which would have thrilled the most obdurate cannibals with horror. No eye could have beheld a sight more hideous at Smolensk, on the Berezyna, or on the road to Wilna—there at least Death more speedily dispatched his victims. Thousands of ghastly figures staggered along the streets, begging at every window and at every door; and seldom indeed had Compassion the power to give. These, however, were ordinary, familiar spectacles. Neither was it rare to see one of these emaciated wretches picking up the dirtiest bones, and eagerly gnawing them; nay, even the smallest crumb of bread which had chanced to be thrown into the street, as well as apple-parings and cabbage-stalks, were voraciously devoured. But hunger did not confine itself within these disgusting limits. More thantwenty eye-witnesses can attest that wounded French soldiers crawled to the already putrid carcasses of horses, with some blunt knife or other contrived with their feeble hands to cut the flesh from the haunches, and greedily regaled themselves with the carrion. They were glad to appease their hunger with what the raven and the kite never feed on but in cases of necessity. They even tore the flesh from human limbs, and broiled it to satisfy the cravings of appetite; nay, what is almost incredible, the very dunghills were searched for undigested fragments to devour. You know me, and must certainly believe that I would not relate as facts things which would be liable to be contradicted by the whole city. Thus the hospitals became a hot-bed of pestilence, from which the senses of hearing, smell, and sight, turned with disgust, and one of the most fatal of those vampyres which had so profusely drained our vitals, and now dispensed destruction to those who had fed them and to the sick themselves.
The great church-yard exhibited a spectacle of peculiar horror. The peaceful dead and their monuments had been spared no more than any other corner of the city. Here also the king of terrors had reaped a rich harvest. The slight walls had been converted into one great fort, and loop-holes formed in them. Troops had long before bivouacked in this spot, and the Prussian, Russian, and Austrian prisoners, were here confined, frequently for several successive days, in the most tempestuous weather and violent rain, without food, straw, or shelter. These poor fellows had nevertheless spared the many handsome monuments of the deceased, and only sought a refuge from the wet, or a lodging for the night, in such vaults as they found open. This spacious ground, which rather resembled asuperbly embellished garden than a burial-place, now fell under the all-desolating hands of the French. It soon bore not the smallest resemblance to itself; what Art had, in the space of a century, employed a thousand hands to produce, was in a short time, and by very few, defaced and destroyed. The strongest iron doors to the vaults were broken open, the walls stripped of their decorations and emblems of mourning, the last tributes of grief and affection annihilated, and every atom of wood thrown into the watch-fire; so that the living could no longer know where to look for the remains of the deceased objects of their love. The elegant rails, with which the generality of the graves were encompassed, for the most part disappeared, and the only vestiges of them to be found were their ashes, or the relics of the reeking brands of the watch-fire. On the 19th this wretched bulwark also was stormed, and thrown down as easily as a fowler's net. The carcasses of horses now replaced upon the graves the monuments of mourning for the peaceful dead. After the battle part of the French prisoners were confined in this place. The church of St. John, which stands in it, had, as early as the month of May, been converted into an hospital, which, ever since the beginning of October, was crowded with sick. It could hold no more; the sick and prisoners were therefore intermingled, and lay down pell-mell among the graves. What had hitherto been spared was now completely destroyed. In this case, indeed, dire necessity pleaded a sufficient excuse. Who could find fault with Distress and Despair if they resorted to the only means that could afford them the slightest alleviation? Who could grudge them a shelter in the cold autumnal nights, even though they sought it in the dreary abodeof mouldering corpses? Every vault which it was possible for them to open was converted into a chamber and dwelling-place, which at least was preferable to a couch between hillocks soaked with rain or covered with hoar frost. They descended into the deepest graves, broke open the coffins, and ejected their tenants, to procure fire-wood to warm their frozen limbs. I myself saw a French soldier who had fallen among a heap of coffins piled up to the height of more than twelve feet; and, unable to clamber up again, had probably lain there several days, and been added by Death to the number of his former victims. The appearance of the skulls, before so carefully concealed from the view of the living, now thrown out of the coffins into the graves, was truly ghastly.
In spite of all the exertion of the new authorities, appointed by the allies to alleviate the general misery, it was utterly impossible for any human power to restore order in the horrid chaos which the French had left behind them. A severe want of all necessaries was felt in the city; the circumjacent villages, far and wide, were plundered and laid waste. From them, of course, no supply could be obtained. More than thirty hospitals were not capable of receiving all the sick and wounded who applied for admission. Where were to be found buildings sufficiently spacious, mattresses, bedding, utensils, provisions, and the prodigious number of medical attendants, whose services were so urgently required by these poor creatures? Every edifice at all adapted to the purpose had long been occupied; and so completely had every thing been drained by requisitions, that the hospital committee had for some time been unable to collect even the necessary quantity of lint. Almost every barber'sapprentice was obliged to exercise his unskilful hands in the service of the hospitals. It would have been impossible to procure any thing with money, had it been ever so plentiful; and this resource, moreover, was already completely exhausted. The most acute understanding and the most invincible presence of mind were inadequate to the providing of a remedy for these evils. No where was there to be seen either beginning or end. The city was covered with carcasses, and the rivers obstructed with dead bodies. Thousands of hands were necessary to remove and bury these disgusting objects before any attention could be paid to the clearing of the field of battle about Leipzig. As all sought relief, there was of course none to afford it. It was difficult to decide whether first to build, to slaughter, to brew, to bake, to bury the dead, or to assist the wounded, as all these points demanded equally prompt attention.
In the city lay many thousands of newly-arrived troops, who came from the fight, and were both hungry and thirsty. Notwithstanding their moderation, some of these could obtain nothing, and others but a very scanty supply. Gladly would every citizen have entertained them in the best manner; but not even a glass of the worst beer or brandy was now to be had. Many of them naturally ascribed this to ill will, and even observed that every thing was denied them because they were not Frenchmen. How little did they know of our real situation! In the house where I live six of the Prussian foot-guards were quartered. They complained when nothing was set before them but dry potatoes; but listened with calmness to the excuses that were offered. Without making any reply, four of them took up their arms, and departed. In about an hourthey returned, bringing with them two cows, which they had taken from the French. These they presented to their host, and immediately fell to work and killed then. In two hours the family was abundantly supplied with meat, so that it could assist others; and, as great part was pickled, it was supplied for a considerable time. Frenchmen would certainly not have acted thus.
Among the thousands of facts which might be adduced to prove that it was absolutely impossible for any thing whatever to be left in the town, that its resources were completely exhausted, and that extreme want could not but prevail, let one instance suffice. There were in the city two granaries, one of which, in the palace of Pleissenburg, had been filled at the king's cost, and the other, called the corn-magazine, at the expense of the magistrates. The former had long been put in requisition by French commissaries, and had been chiefly applied to the provisioning of the French garrisons of Wittenberg and Torgau. As this was the king's property, it was perhaps but right to demand it for the fortresses which were to defend the country. The stores possessed by the magistrates were purchased in those years when a scarcity of corn prevailed in Saxony. To afford some relief the government had imported great quantities from Russia, by way of the Baltic and the Elbe. The magistrates of Leipzig had bought a considerable part of it, that they might be able to relieve the wants of the citizens in case a similar calamity should again occur. It was ground and put into casks, each containing 450 pounds. They had in their magazine 4000 such casks, which had been left untouched even in the year 1806, and were carefully preserved, to be used only in cases of extreme necessity. This was certainly a wise and trulypaternal precaution. So valuable a store would have been sufficient to protect the city from hunger for a considerable time. As the French army behaved all over Saxony as though it had been in an enemy's country, and consumed every thing far and near, the most urgent want was the inevitable consequence. They forgot the common maxim, that the bread of which you deprive the citizen and the husbandman is in fact taken from yourself, and that the soldier can have nothing where those who feed him have lost their all. The country round Dresden was already exhausted. Soldiers and travellers coming from that quarter could scarcely find terms to describe the distress. They unanimously declared that the country from Oschatz to Leipzig was a real paradise, in comparison with Lusatia and the circle of Misnia, as far as the Elbe. Of this we soon had convincing proofs. It was necessary to pick out a great number of horses from all the regiments, and to send back numerous troops of soldiers to the depots. Don Quixote's Rosinante was a superb animal compared with those which returned to Dresden. Most of them had previously perished by the way. Here they covered all the streets. The men sold them out of hand, partly for a few groschen. A great number were publicly put up to auction by the French commissaries; and you may form some idea what sorry beasts they must have been, when you know that a lot of 26 was sold for 20 dollars. After some time the whole of the horse-guards arrived here. They were computed at 5000 men, all of whom were unfit for service. How changed! how lost was their once imposing appearance! Scarcely could troops ever make so ludicrous, so grotesque, and so miserable a figure. Gigantic grenadiers, with caps of prodigious height,and heavy-armed cuirassiers, were seen riding upon lean cows, which certainly did not cut many capers. It was wonderful that the animals shewed no disposition to decline the singular honour. Their knapsacks were fastened to the horns, so that you were puzzled to make out what kind of a monstrous creature was approaching. Carbineers, with cuirasses and helmets polished like mirrors, lay without boots and stockings in wheelbarrows, to which a peasant had harnessed himself with his dog, and thus transported the heroes. Few of the horses were yet able to carry the knapsack, and much less the rider. The men were therefore obliged to drag the jaded beasts by the bridle through the deepest morasses, and thought themselves fortunate when at last the animals dropped to rise no more. Compared with these endless caravans, a band of strolling players might be considered as the triumphant procession of a Roman emperor. All these men were proceeding to Erfurt and Mentz.
These, and similar scenes which we had daily witnessed, were a natural consequence of the French system of supply, and the prodigious bodies of troops, which bore no proportion to the resources of a small tract of country. Attempts had been made, but without success, to find other provinces abounding in grain and forage. The fertile fields of Silesia and Bohemia were beyond their reach. The angel with the fiery sword vigilantly guarded the avenues to them against the fallen children of Adam. It was now absolutely necessary to devise some expedient; and to the French all means were alike. Some rice had been procured by way of the Elbe and the Rhine. The stocks in the warehouses of the tradesmen of Leipzig were now put in requisition, and sent off to the army; and Ishrewdly suspect that no part of them was paid for. These, however, were but small privations; to relieve the general want required no less a miracle than that by which 4000 men were fed with five small loaves. The valuable stores in the city magazine had not yet been discovered. But where is the door, however strong, through which their eagle eyes would not at last penetrate? The flour was soon spied out, and forthwith destined for the hungry stomachs of the French. The barrels were rolled away with incredible expedition, and conveyed to the bakehouses. Each baker was supplied with two a day, which he was obliged to make up with all possible dispatch into bread, and to carry to the Cloth-hall. Here the loaves were piled up in immense rows, and sent off to the famishing army. From morning till night nothing was to be seen but waggons loading and setting out. Not a morsel, however, was given to the soldiers quartered upon the citizens; their superiors well knew that the patient landlord had yet a penny left in his pocket to help himself out with. Thus the fine magazine was stripped; and its valuable contents, which would have kept twenty years longer without spoiling, and had been preserved with such care, were dissipated in a moment. You may easily conceive how severe a misfortune this loss proved to the city, and how keenly it was felt, when you know that we were in a manner besieged for several weeks, and that not a handful of flour was to be had even at the mills themselves.
If you now take into the account the state of the city in a financial point of view, you may judge how dreadful its condition in general must have been. In no town is a better provision made for the indigentthan in Leipzig. Here were poor-houses, under most judicious regulations, where food, fire, and lodging, were afforded. These buildings were converted into hospitals, their inmates were obliged to turn out, and at length the necessitous were deprived of their scanty allowance—the funds were exhausted, and no fresh supplies received. The citizen sunk under the weight of his burdens; it was impossible to lay any new ones upon him. Among the different sources of income enjoyed by the city, the author knows of one which at each of the two principal fairs commonly produced 4000 dollars; whereas the receipts from it at the late Michaelmas fair fell short of 100 dollars. All the other branches of revenue, whether belonging to the king or to the city, fared no better.
Such was the state of a city, which a few years since might justly be numbered among the most opulent in Germany, and whose resources appeared inexhaustible. It may be considered as the heart of all Saxony, on account of the manifold channels for trade, manufactures, and industry, which here meet as in one common centre. Hence the commerce of Saxony extends to every part of the globe. With the credit of Leipzig, that of all Saxony could not fail to be in a great measure destroyed. Had this state of things continued a little longer, absolute ruin would probably have ensued, as the total suspension of trade would certainly have occasioned the removal of all the yet remaining monied men. So low, however, the city was not destined to fall. The fatal blow already impended over Leipzig, which was on the point of being reduced to a heap of ashes. Black storm-clouds gathered thick around it; but they passed off; and a new sun, the cheering hope of better times, burst forth. Large bodies of troops areyet within our walls; and they are a heavy burden to the impoverished inhabitants, under their present circumstances. We shall, however, be relieved of some part of it, on the reduction of the fortresses upon the Elbe, which the enemy may yet defend for some time, though without any other prospect than that of final surrender, and of wielding for the last time his desolating arms on the shores of that river. Symptoms of reviving trade and commerce begin at least to appear. The gates are no longer beset with the Argus eyes of French inspectors. The patient indeed, brought as he has been to the very gates of death, is yet extremely weak, and requires the aid of crutches. Long will it be before he is free from pain, but his recovery is sure: he has quitted the close sick room, and is now consigned to better care, to the hands of Prudence and Philanthropy, who are acquainted with his condition, and will infallibly restore him to his former health and vigour.
The confederation of the Rhine and the Continental system,—terms synonymous with all the evils which have brought Germany and Europe to the brink of destruction,—will in future have no other signification in the vocabularies of the writers on political economy than that interval of severe probation when Germany seemed to be annihilated, but yet rose from her ruins with renewed energies, and, united more firmly than ever, by new ties, with the other states of Europe, resumed her ancient rights. The battle of Leipzig was the watch-word for this great revolution. History, therefore, when partiality and passion shall have long been silent, will not fail to class it among the most important events recorded in her annals.
Here permit me to conclude my letters respectingthose eventful days of October, which must ever be so deeply impressed upon the memories of us all. What may be called the military part of my narrative may be imperfect; the names of the generals who commanded, the positions of particular corps, and other circumstances of minor importance, may perhaps be incorrect; yet the circumstantial details which I have given will enable you to form to yourself in some measure a complete picture of that memorable conflict.