“Ah, Monsieur Soyer, you have selected a very glorious day for the commencement of your hostilities; but I regret I shall not be able to assist you, as we do not know how this affair will be decided.” “You do not for a moment suppose, colonel, that I would intrude upon your valuable time on such an occasion? Having slept in camp, I only called _en passant_. Good-morning, colonel.” “Good-day, Soyer. I would advise you to call to-morrow.” Having given a look at my Highlanders’ cooking, and tasted some coffee which they had prepared for breakfast according to my receipt, I retired, much pleased with their success. I remained at the camp till nearly three in the afternoon. About one, a long train of mules made their appearance, bearing wounded French and Russian soldiers--the latter prisoners. About twenty were wounded; the rest followed the mournful procession. Assisted by a few of my men, I gave them some wine, brandy, porter, &c.--in fact, whatever we could get at the canteen--which seemed to afford them much relief. I of course treated the wounded Russians in the same manner as the French; though two refused to take anything, fearing poison. Not doubting that many more would pass, as I had some provisions in a tent for the opening of my kitchens, I made some sago jelly, with wine, calves’-foot jelly, &c., which unfortunately was not used, as the other prisoners went by a different road, though taken to the General Hospital at the French head-quarters. Upon leaving, I ordered my men to be on the look-out, and if any wounded or prisoners came by, to offer them some refreshment. Just as I was going, I perceived a few mules approaching the Guards’ camp. As they advanced, I and one of my men went towards some of the wounded with a basin of sago in hand, saying, this was a sort of half-way ambulance, where they might obtain all they might require. I was aware that some of the Russian prisoners in the first convoy would not accept any refreshment, for fear of being poisoned, of course not knowing better. The case of two poor French soldiers I cannot pass in silence. One had been severely wounded in the head, and was almost in a state of insensibility; the other had had his leg amputated on the field of battle. The first, after taking a few spoonfuls of the hot sago, asked for a drop of brandy, saying he felt faint. The conductor at first objected to this, but upon my asking him to take a glass with me and the patient, he agreed that it would do him no harm if it did him no good--adding, that very likely he would not survive the day. Having mixed it with water, he drank it, and thanked me warmly. The other was an officer. After giving him some wine-jelly, I conversed with him. “How good this jelly is!” said he, in French; “pray give me another spoonful or two, if you have it to spare.”