A war correspondent recorded it this way.
"When every cotton field becomes a sea of flames, when boulders mercilessly block the canals, when one bridge after another crashes down in explosions, even the most objective observer cannot help but be shaken by this resistance, which comes close to taking both sides down with it.
"Men took up arms; even hoes and plow handles became tools of resistance. The tears of the old, the weak, women, and children evaporated in the dusty ashes as they staggered toward the Vosges Mountains, seeking their final refuge.
"This once quiet, peaceful land has now been swallowed by smoke and the flames of war. Yet what I witnessed was not only the cruelty of war and the frailty and insignificance of humanity, but also the fearlessness and fortitude ordinary people showed in the face of catastrophe."
Outside Sélestat.
In less than two weeks since the war began, more than 50% of the mercenaries inside the city had been killed or wounded, while the Sélestat garrison and militia had lost more than a third of their forces.
That was an astonishing figure, because according to military theory at the time, any sizable army—meaning one with more than a thousand men—would lose its most basic functions once its casualties exceeded a third.
As a master of tactical theory, Benoît de Coulon could scarcely believe what was happening before his eyes. The defenders inside the city should have been utterly broken by now.
The crisscrossing trenches and makeshift fortifications built from piles of rubble inside the city struck him as even more baffling. Far too many bodies had not been cleared in time, and disease was already spreading through the armies on both sides.
Though Benoît de Coulon had also received reinforcements of new recruits from home, raw