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1852.]
but I fear that God will punish me for
the folly of these people. Does it not
seem as if they were actually making an
idol of me 1 How easily could that God,
who abases the proud, cause them and
me to feel that 1 am nothing but a feeble
and mortal man.” %
The night preceding his last battle, he
spent in his carriage. It was a cold No
vember night, and when morning dawned,
the troops were drawn up in martial ar
ray, and, amid the autumnal fog, they
sang, accompanied by trumpets and
drums, Luther’s hymn—
“ Eine festi Burg est unser Gott.”
“ A mighty rock is our God.”
And also a hymn composed by Gustavus,
himself, commencing, “Fear not little
flock.” The Swedes were victorious, but
their adored leader, venturing too near
the imperial horse, was mortally wound
ed, and fell, commending his spirit to his
God. Mournfully was he borne from the
field of triumph, and universal grief reign
ed among his followers, and generous sor
row was felt in the enemy’s camp, for
even the Emperor, Ferdinand, wept when
the military collar, saturated with the
blood of the brave and good Gustavus
was brought to him. The spot where he
fell on the battle field is marked bv one
•
of those Scandinavian boulder stones,
which, in a mysterious manner, are scat
tered over this country. Recently. a
handsome gothic canopy has been erected
over it. The name of this gifted, accom
plished and Christian prince is loved and
revered in Germany. Since we came to
Ilalle we attended the celebration of Gus
tavus Adolphus’s day, which is the anni
versary of a missionary society.
From the tower of the castle of Pleis
senburg, with a glass, we saw very dis
tinctly the stone land mark which desig
nates the spot where the windmill stood,
in the last great battle nearLeipsic. This
was Napoleon’s point of observation du
ring his battle with the allies. Here,
three days, he watched the stern and
cruel fight; here, was his bivouac, for
three weary nights, the livid light of the
watch fires revealing to him the convul
sive struggles of the victims of his am
bition with whom the field was strewn.
Worn out at last, surrounded by the
dead and dying, he sank into sleep. Ere
this, the Saxons had abandoned him, his
crescent army was reduced to a triangle,
SOUTHERN LITERARY GAZETTE.
the roar of the cannon had died away,
and faint were the retreating echoes, and
Napoleon awoke only to flee from the
field of his defeat. Nor yet was the
horrid tragedy ended, another act replete
with terror succeeded. Just as the fugi
tives were passing out of Leipsic, the
stone bridge over the Elset, the only di
rect place of exit, was hurled into the
air. Multitudes rushed to the river and
attempted to cross by swimming. The
stream was choked by horses, arms and
warriors ; numbers were taken prisoners,
many generals in their desperate attempts
to escape lost their lives, among whom’
was the wounded Poniatowski, who per
ished regretted by both armies. On the
river’s margin is a simple monument
erected on the spot, where he attempted
to cross and was drowned. Gerard’s
garden contains two other monuments to
his memory. Connected with one of these
is a room, where we saw his saddle, pis
tol, portrait, bust, and a model of Thor
waldsen’s piece of statuary, representing
Poniatowski on horseback. Gerard’s gar
den is extensive and beautiful, with its
shady avenues, arbours, summer houses
and artificial pools. While I stood in
the tower of the Castle, a company of
soldiers came out to exercise, and I could
but imagine the scenes of terror which
had been witnessed from the loop holes
of that Castle, and contrast those days
with the present, when the moat of the
city, as well as that of the Castle, is green
with the richest verdure.
The Castle of Pleissenburg, which was
built before the thirty year’s war, occu
pies the same site as the old Castle, in
whose Chapel, Luther when challenged
by Dr. Eck appeared, accompanied by
Melancthon, who was then Professor of
Greek at Wittenburg. Here the contro
versial trial was held in the presence of
the Duke of Saxony, and Luther was
denounced by Dr. Eck as a “gentile and
publican.”
After the “Battle of Nations,” the Al
lied Sovereigns met in the great market
plat at Leipsic. This square is surround
ed by lofty buildings, wearing an ancient,
quaint aspect. On the high roofs are
gable windows, clustering like bird’s
nests. We peeped into the entrance of
the house, w hich was formerly occupied
by the Kings of Saxony on their visit to
Leipsic, and by Napoleon before the bat-
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tie. Here, too, the King o.
held prisoner by the allies,
to it is Aurebach’s cellar, whe.
ments are sold. This spot is vit
account of its being a place of reso.
Goethe, as well as of his Faust.
Tradition says that Mephistophiles here
supplied the student with wine in a most
mysterious manner. One of the oldest
Universities in Germany is in Leipsic.
The book trade of German} 7 is centred
here. It is visited by merchants and for
eigners from the most distant part of the
globe during the time when its Fairs are
held. It is then the mart of all Europe.
Adieu. Your affectionate M. B.
Cbitnr'o Dtprtmtnt.
CHARLESTON: SATURDAY, OCTOBER 30. 1852.
THE LAST STAR SET.
One by one, the lights of that magnificent con
stellation, that rose in the morn of American lib
erty, and signalized the progress of American
glory, have passed below the visible horizon. The
last star of the galaxy has set, and darkness en
compasses the land. Contemporaries in life and
fame, our three great statesman may be considered
as contemporaries in death. Their destinies, wide
ly different, were yet singularly interwoven, and
posterity cannot speak of the one without instinc
tively reverting to the others. In no country ol
which history furnishes a record, have minds more
varied, brilliant and profound, directed a nation’s
statesmanship, and built up with Titan labours
the monument of a nation’s power. Each was
the idol of sections, but the renown of all is the
common heritage not of their country only, but ol
the Saxon race. Wherever exists the great broth
erhood of language, and the affinity of the same
origination ; wherever greatness of soul, great
ness of intellect, and greatness of purpose, meet
with the admiration which is their due ; wherever
men have a reason to understand and a heart to
feel; there it will he acknowledged that in the
brief progress of American nationality, three in
telligences that have mastered contemporary pre
judices, and compelled contemporary awe, that
might have swayed the Athenian Senate, and
stood among the proudest in the age of Sheridan
and Fox—have here lived, laboured, died, and
the exclamation will be, in reverting to the stormy
times they dignified and directed, “Truly there