The ground was covered with wreckage of all kinds, broken weapons, accoutrements, camp furniture, and blood-stained articles of clothing. The unfortunate wounded who lay around were pale, livid, and utterly exhausted with their sufferings. Some, very badly wounded, had an imbecile expression, seemed not to understand when spoken to, staring with haggard eyes at those who brought them succor, and others in a state of nervous excitement shivered with a convulsive ague. Yet others, with deep, gaping wounds, in which inflammation had already set in, were delirious from their pain, and implored that they might be put out of their misery, and with drawn faces twisted themselves into indescribable positions in their supreme agony. Besides these there were unfortunate men, who had been struck by cannon balls and grape shot, or whose arms and legs had been shattered by pieces of artillery. In many cases the bodies of the dead and wounded were robbed by marauders, and thousands of poor fellows, who still lived, were thus despoiled of all their savings, to say nothing of the little trinkets, the gifts of mothers, wives and sweethearts. Besides these tragic scenes were many dramatic incidents witnessed by Monsieur Dunant himself of which he tells; there an old officer on the retired list, General Breton, wandering over the battlefield in search of his wounded son-in-law; here Colonel Maleville, wounded at Casa-Nova quietly breathing his last, Colonel Genlis with a terrible wound that has produced a high fever, Lieutenant de Selve, just out of St. Cyr, whose arm has been shot away; a poor sergeant-major, whose two arms have been shattered, and of whom he writes: “I saw him again at a hospital at Brescia, but he died in passing Mont Cenis.” Officer after officer gave up his life because of wounds in which gangrene set in through lack of attention. The scarcity of water was acutely felt, for the burning summer sun had dried up almost all the moisture. Wherever the smallest spring was found sentries were placed, who, with fixed bayonets, guarded it for the need of the most urgent cases. Wounded horses, that had lost their riders, wandered pitiably about through the night. Whenever opportunity afforded they were mercifully shot. Among the dead were some whose features bore a calm and serene expression, these were those who had been killed outright. But those who had not immediately succumbed had their faces drawn and distorted by the agony they had endured, their hands clutched the ground, their haggard eyes were wide open and their teeth clenched. Three days and three nights were occupied in burying the dead on the field of slaughter. Some few bodies, hidden in the thickets, were left unburied, not having been discovered until a fearful stench polluted the air. Terrible as it may seem it is highly probable that in this haste some of the living were interred in the same common grave with the dead.