Quitting the delicious shade of the elms for the open fields, and these lying on a southern slope, the heat was intense, and when, getting between vines and fig-trees (of which we found whole fields here), the little air there was became shut out from us, it was quite suffocating. The ripe, cool, juicy figs with which the trees were loaded, relieved us, however; the poor fellows placed to watch these looked on rather piteously, but we committed no waste nor destruction beyond eating a few as we went along. These were the first peasantry we had found in the fields since passing Senlis. All along our route dead horses in abundance poisoned the air, and marked the line of operations of Blucher’s army. The bridge was at Argenteuil, another pretty village; but on arriving there we found so many corps to pass before us, that, having got into a shady spot, we dismounted and disposed ourselves to rest. The Seine here appeared to me such another river as the Thames at Vauxhall Bridge. The ground on our side sloped rapidly down to it; on the other the banks were low and rushy, an extent of flat meadow-land lay beyond, and thence arose gently swelling hills, covered with shrubberies, villages, villas, &c. The scenery was animated by the masses of our troops and the novelty of the pontoon bridge, together with the interest excited by a number of women and pretty girls who brought us in abundance (for sale) flowers and very fine cherries. What a change from the sickening, desolated, deserted country we have left, where everything breathed war! Suddenly we enter a land of peace, plenty, and happiness, fields covered with luxuriant crops of various kinds of vegetables, amongst which the large, dark-tinted leaves of the artichoke predominate; vines, figs, and myriads of roses are extended over the face of the hills; whilst the meadows beyond the river exhibit a vast tract of the richest pasture. Innumerable villages, all full of people; their dwellings comfortable and in good order. No desertion here; no sign of military exaction or plundering; no apprehension betrayed at our approach. We are received as countrymen might be. The people are confiding and happy; nor would one imagine that the blast of war had passed so near and left them scathless. At length our turn to pass arrived, and we crossed the Seine. It seems there were not pontoons enough by half for this bridge, consequently what they had were placed at double distance; the bridge was therefore so weak that the utmost precaution was necessary in passing it, and our guns and detachments (the latter dismounted and leading their horses in file) were obliged to go over separately; but it was also necessary to take the three pair of leaders (eight horses to a gun) off, and let the wheel horses alone take over the guns. Even then, each pontoon sank until its gunwale was within two or three inches of the water as the gun passed over it.