garrison had sallied out from Williamstadt, on the repulse of the
French, and cut the dyke in several places. The ocean now fought our
battle; each chasm in the long mound which protected the fields from
inundation, was now the channel of a roaring cataract; the trenches were
soon filled; as the waters advanced, the field-works were washed away;
still wave rolled on wave; cannon, tents, baggage, every thing but the
soldier himself, was seen gradually sinking, or floating away on the
surface of the surge. Within the hour, the ground on which we had fought
during the day was completely covered with the flood. The French camp
was totally buried. The enemy had only time to make a hurried retreat,
or rather flight, along the causeways which stood above the waters. As
an army, they were utterly ruined; when they at last reached firm
ground, they scattered through the country, and those battalions never
appeared in the field again.
Our troops entered the relieved fortress, with drums beating and colours
flying. We were received as deliverers; all that the place could offer
was heaped upon us; and if praise could have repaid our exploits, never
was praise more abundant from the lips of the whole population.
The catastrophe was complete; and when at night I broke away from the
heat and noise of the huge barrack in which we had been placed, as the
post of favour, and walked upon the rampart, nothing could form a more
expressive contrast to the tumult of the day. The moon was high, and her
light showed the whole extent of the late field of battle. But all now
was one immense shining lake. Where cavalry had charged and artillery
had roared, and the whole living clash and confusion of a stubborn
engagement had filled the eye and ear but a few hours before, all was
now an expanse of quiet water, calm as the grave, without a vestige of
the struggle, but with hundreds of the combatants sleeping their last
sleep below, and the whole artillery and equipment of a powerful army
submerged.
I was still gazing from the ramparts, when I observed a body of cavalry
advancing along the dike, at a rapid pace, with a group of staff
officers among them. The alarm was given by the sentries; and, after
some brief pause, it was ascertained that they were the escort of the
new commander-in-chief of the allied armies in the Netherlands. My first
impression was, that the man to whom so important a trust was given must
be Clairfait; and I hastened d
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