a matter of eleven miles. It developed into a roasting-hot
day, and the last two miles, up a very steep hill, were most trying
for the transport. We were at the head of the column, and longed to
stop in the shady little village of Croutoy, but we had to move on
beyond to some open stubble fields, where the heat was terrific. And
there we bivouacked till about midday, when we were told we might go
back to Croutoy, and did. It was a very pretty little village with a
magnificent view northwards over the Aisne. We were very comfortably
put up in General de France's chateau, and enjoyed there a real big
bath with taps and hot water, the first genuine bath we had had since
arriving at Havre. My only _contretemps_ here was that, having when
halfway to Croutoy dismounted Catley and lent his horse to a Staff
officer, I never saw the horse or my kit on him again. The Staff
officer had duly sent the horse back by a sergeant of gunners, but the
latter never materialized, and, strangely enough, was never heard of
afterwards. So I thus lost my bivouac tent, mackintosh, lantern, and
several other things, besides Catley's complete possessions, all of
which were on the animal. Luckily the horse was not my own, but a
spare one, as my mare Squeaky had had a sore back, and Catley was not
riding her.

_Aug. 31st._

Next day was awfully hot again. We were off by 7.30, and were by way
of billeting at a place called Bethisy, on the south-west edge of the
forest of Compiegne. We passed by the eastern edge, close by the
extraordinary chateau of Pierrefonds, built by Viollet le Duc to the
exact model of the old castle of the thirteenth century, a huge pile
of turrets and battlements, like one of Gustave Dore's nightmares; and
then struck across the open towards Morienval. We were a long time on
the march, largely owing to the necessary habit that the Artillery
have of stopping to "feed and water" when they come to water,
irrespective of the hourly ten-minute halt. Then, having thus stopped
the Infantry column in rear for twenty minutes, they trot on and catch
up the rest of the column in front, leaving the Infantry toiling
hopelessly after them, trying to fill the gap the guns leave behind
them. It is bad, of course, but it is a choice of evils, for one way
the Artillery suffers, the other the Infantry; but they both arrive
together in the end.

I had trotted ahead to Morienval, to settle on the road, as there was
a divergence of opinion on