Every trench dug where the paving was torn up had its object, and each heap of stones its particular design.
But the ordinary spectator needed a guide to recognize this.

At the first sight, his attention was claimed by the confused medley and the many heart-rending signs of the horrors practised by man on man.
Here was a pool of blood, there a bearded corpse; here a blood-stained weapon, there another blackened with powder.

Like a caldron where a witch mixes all manner of strange things for a philter, each barricade consisted of every sort of rubbish, together with objects originally useful.

All kinds of overturned vehicles, from an omnibus to a perambulator, from a carriage to a hand-cart, were everywhere to be found.

Wardrobes, commodes, chairs, boards, laths, bookshelves, bath tubs and washtubs, iron and wooden pipes, were piled together, and the interstices filled with sacks of straw and rags, mattresses, and carriage cushions.