the manoeuvre of the French
at this time, their march along the Belgian frontier being credited
entirely to Napoleon. Up to bed-time there was still much
uncertainty as to the exact positions of the French, but next morning
intelligence being received which denoted the probability of a
battle, we drove about ten miles, to Buzancy, and there mounting our
horses, rode to the front.

The French were posted not far from Buzancy in a strong position,
their right resting near Stonne and the left extending over into the
woods beyond Beaumont. About 10 o'clock the Crown Prince of Saxony
advanced against this line, and while a part of his army turned the
French right, compelling it to fall back rapidly, the German centre
and right attacked with great vigor and much skill, surprising one of
the divisions of General De Failly's corps while the men were in the
act of cooking their breakfast.

The French fled precipitately, leaving behind their tents and other
camp equipage, and on inspecting the ground which they had abandoned
so hastily, I noticed on all sides ample evidence that not even the
most ordinary precautions had been taken to secure the division from
surprise, The artillery horses had not been harnessed, and many of
them had been shot down at the picket-rope where they had been
haltered the night before, while numbers of men were lying dead with
loaves of bread or other food instead of their muskets in their
hands.

Some three thousand prisoners and nearly all the artillery and
mitrailleuses of the division--were captured, while the fugitives
were pursued till they found shelter behind--Douay's corps and the
rest of De Failly's beyond Beaumont. The same afternoon there were
several other severe combats along the Meuse, but I had no chance of
witnessing any of them, and just before night-fall I started back to
Buzancy, to which place the King's headquarters had been brought
during the day.

The morning of the 31st the King moved to Vendresse. First sending
our carriage back to Grand Pre' for our trunks, Forsyth and I mounted
our horses and rode to the battle-field accompanied by an English
nobleman, the Duke of Manchester. The part of the field we traversed
was still thickly strewn with the dead of both armies, though all the
wounded had been collected in the hospitals. In the village of
Beaumont, we stopped to take a look at several thousand French
prisoners, whose worn clothing and evident dejection told tha