Allies; it being forbidden to enter into political
discussions, it is difficult to ascertain the true state of affairs.

We continued our journey through Charleroy and Binch to this place. At a
small village between Binch and Mons we were stopped by a sentinel at a
Prussian outpost and our passports demanded. Neither the sentinel, however,
nor the sergeant, nor any of the soldiers present, could read or understand
French, in which language the passport was drawn up; but the sergeant told
me that the officers were in a house about a quarter of a mile distant and
that he would conduct me thither, but that he himself could not presume to
let us pass, from not knowing the tenor of our passport. I went accordingly
with the sergeant to this house, There I found the officer commanding the
piquet and several others sitting at table, carousing with beer and tobacco
and nearly invisible from the clouds of smoke which pervaded the room. I
explained to the officer who we were and requested him to put on the
passport his _visa_ in the German language, so that the non-commissioned
officers at the various posts through which we might pass would be able to
understand it and let us pass without hindrance. This he did accordingly
and we proceeded on our journey.

We arrived here in the evening and put up at the _Hotel Royal_. We found at
Charleroy, Binch and here, a number of people employed in repairing and
reconstructing the fortifications. Men, women and boys are all put in
requisition to accelerate this object, as it is the intention of the
Belgian Government to put all the frontier fortresses in the most complete
state of defence. On ascending one of the steeples this morning we had a
fine view of the surrounding country and of the height of Genappe, which
are close to Mons and memorable for the brilliant victory gained by
Dumouriez over the Austrians in 1792. The landscape presents an undulating
campaign country, gentle slopes and alternate plains covered with corn, as
far as the eye can reach, and interspersed with villages and farmhouses. In
Mons is a very large splendid shop or warehouse of millinery, perfumery,
jewellery, etc. It is called _La Toilette de Venus_, and is served by a
very pretty girl, who, I have no doubt from her simpering look and eloquent
eyes, would have no objection to be a sedulous priestess at the altar of
the Goddess of Amathus. A battalion of Hollanders--a very fine body of
men--marched into this place ye