singular enough that just at the very point where the allies were reported to have sustained so signal a defeat, that is to say, on their left wing, at Liebertwolkwitz, the cannonade again became the most violent.  Fresh troops, with artillery, including a large body of Polish cavalry, were seen hastening out by the Ranstaedt gate towards Lindenau.  Napoleon himself rode with the king of Naples along the causeway to the Kuhthurm (cow-tower), as it is called, probably to observe how things were going on.  The allies strove to make themselves masters of the pass near Lindenau.  Their infantry had actually penetrated into the village, but was driven back, and this was succeeded by a tremendous fire of riflemen, which was near enough for us to distinguish the discharge of every single piece.  I remarked on this occasion the incredible exertions of the French voltigeurs, who defended a ditch near the Kuhthurm, ran to and fro on the bank with inconceivable agility, availed themselves of the protection afforded by every tree and every hedge, and fired away as briskly as though they had carried with them the confederation of the Rhine, as their own property, in their cartouch-boxes.  Cannon-balls and shells had fallen in the village itself, which was set on fire in several places.  Whether friend or enemy had the advantage it was impossible to judge, on account of the broken nature of the ground and the woods, behind which the engagement was the hottest It was evident that one party exerted itself as strenuously to defend as the other did to take this important position.  The French retained it; therefore the prize of victory in this instance must be adjudged to them.  At Breitenfeld, Lindenthal, and Wiederitsch, the fortune of the day was different.  There the lines of the allies evidently advanced.  The cannonade was an infallible barometer.  The French artillery receded, and was already driven back so close upon Gohlis and Eutritzsch, that the balls of their opponents fell in both villages.  Night drew on:  the vast field of battle became gradually enveloped in darkness, and the horizon was now illumined by the flashes of the guns alone, followed at long intervals by the low thunder of the report.  The battle had lasted the whole day all round the city.  The church-clocks struck six; and, as if all parties had unanimously agreed to suspend at this moment the horrid work of slaughter, the last cannon-shot was fired beyond Lindenau.  The fire of small arms, however, was yet kept up; but, as though the mortal struggle became more and more faint, that too gradually ceased.  Nothing now was seen around the horizon but one immense circle of many thousand watch-fires.  In all directions appeared blazing villages, and from their number might be inferred the havoc occasioned by this arduous day.  Its effects were still more plainly manifested when we descended into the streets.  Thousands of wounded had poured in at all the gates, and every moment increased their numbers.  Many