I now saw nothing but all the animation of an immense skirmish, the use of sabre and pistol alone excepted. Between two and three thousand cavalry, mounted on the finest horses of Austria and Turkey, galloping in all directions, some springing over the rivulets, some dashing through the thickets, all in the highest spirits, calling out to each other, laughing at each other's mishaps, their horses in as high spirits as themselves, bounding, rearing, neighing, springing like deer; trumpets sounding, standards tossing, officers commanding in tones of helpless authority, to which no one listened, and at which they themselves often laughed. The whole, like a vast school broke loose for a holiday; the most joyous, sportive, and certainly the most showy display that had ever caught my eye. The view strongly reminded me of some of the magnificent old hunting pieces by Snyders, the field sports of the Archduke Ferdinand, with the landscape and horses by Rubens and Jordaens: there we had every thing but the stag or the boar and the dogs. We had the noble trees, the rich deep glades, the sunny openings, the masses of green; and all crowded with life. But how infinitely superior in interest! No holiday sport, nor imperial pageant, but an army rushing into action; one of the great instruments of human power and human change called into energy. Thousands of bold lives about to be periled; a victory about to be achieved, which might fix the fate of Europe; or perhaps losses to be sustained which might cover the future generation with clouds; and all this is on the point of being done. No lazy interval to chill expectancy; within the day, within the hour, nay, within the next five hundred yards, the decisive moment might be come.