traversing an uninteresting country, is remarkably fine. It
stands in a fine rich plain, near though beyond the reach of an
eminence--for it does not deserve the name of a mountain--the sides of
which are covered with woods, villages, and vineyards. There is
something very grand in entering a fortified Town--the clattering of
drawbridges, appearance of moats, guns, sentinels, and all the other
etceteras of war. Our passports were demanded for the first time. At
length we were allowed to pass, and found ourselves in a large, clean
town, chiefly remarkable for its Cathedral, the painted window of which
was equal to any I ever saw. The first thing we invariably do in these
towns is to ascend the highest spire, from whence the general plan and
position are at once explained. You need not be alarmed. There is no
fever at present at Metz, or on the Rhine; but there has been. From the
close of 1813 and until the last two months not less than 69,000 sick or
wounded have been in the hospitals of Metz--a large Church contained
about 3,000 at a time, the remainder were scattered about wherever they
could find room, and many breathed their last in the streets. Of course,
such a concourse of dead and dying infested the air to a certain degree,
and a fever was the result. However, not above 2 or 300 inhabitants
suffered. Of the sick troops from 12 to 1,500 per day were buried
without the town, and quicklime thrown in. We supped with three or four
Frenchmen and a Genoese officer, one of Buonaparte's Imperial _Elites_
of the Guard. His form and countenance were quite Vandyck--I never
looked upon a face so well calculated for a picture; his dark whiskers
and black curling hair composed an admirable frame for a couple of the
most expressive eyes; his manners were extremely gentleman-like, and you
may conceive I did not talk and look at him with any diminution of
interest when I found he was on his way home from Moscow. He had gone
through the whole of the retreat, had almost reached the boundaries of
Poland, when at Calick he was wounded, taken prisoner, and marched back
to Moscow. His description of the miseries of that horrible retreat was
petrifying--when a horse fell it was instantly surrounded by famished
Frenchmen, who devoured the carcase; not merely those who slept were
frozen, but even sentries upon their posts. Yet with all this he imputed
no blame to Buonaparte. The Russians, he said, had reason to thank the
severity of their cl