During the time that we were engaged in the interior of the sand-hills, the enemy, seeing no infantry on the beach to protect our guns, sent out his cavalry, from their covert at Egmont, to seize them. Our cavalry had gone into the chasms of the sand-hills, that were next the beach, a little in the rear, to shelter themselves from the fire of the enemy's cannon. They formed upon the beach, and sprang forward to meet the enemy, who had, by this time, reached the guns. They charged the enemy briskly, and drove them back with considerable loss, and pursued them close to Egmont. But, what is something singular, the infantry parties of French and British, that were on the sand-hills next the beach, suspended, as it were by mutual consent, their firing, to become spectators of the cavalry, and did not commence again until the contest of the cavalry was decided. The firing ceased sometime before sunset; I was much in want of water, and went along with another to search for it. We found it at last, in the hollow of the opening of the sand-hills, into which we had wheeled when we left the beach and engaged the enemy. There had been a good deal of rain some days before: and the trampling of our feet upon the surface of the sand had brought water to it, which being observed by some who came to the place afterwards, they dug a small hole in the sand, and put into it the sides of an empty broken ammunition box, which served for cradling; and the hole was soon filled with good water. A number more of such kind of wells were presently made, and plenty of water got, which supplied both horse and foot. We filled our canteens; and then went to look among the dead and wounded, for a comrade, of whom we could get no certain account. The spectacle of the dead, the dying, and the wounded, greatly affected me. The dead were lying stiff on the ground, in various postures; but death had so altered their countenances, that of all that I saw, belonging to the regiment, with many of whom I had been familiar, I knew only two; and it was by peculiar marks, such as death could not alter, that we distinguished even them. The groaning of the wounded was very afflicting; for they were mostly bad cases, all that were able to walk or crawl having removed farther to the rear; and all the assistance that could be given to those who were unable to move, was to carry them from the spot where they were lying, to a place of greater shelter. This had been in part already done, and the wounded were lying in groupes, in the best sheltered hollows adjacent to the beach. The universal cry of these poor men was for water. I supplied them as far as I was able, both enemies and friends, and amongst the rest one of our own officers, who was most severely wounded. I had to hold him up and put the canteen to his mouth, for he was unable to help himself; he died during the night. We did not find the object of our search; but we got afterwards certain