To get out of our position, it was necessary to defile before our enemies into the plain of Hockenun, and this was a delicate operation.  The most annoying circumstance was, that M. de Joyeuse would communicate with nobody, and was so ill-tempered that none dared to speak to him.  At last he determined upon his plans, and I was of the detachment by which they were to be carried out.  We were sent to Manheim to see if out of the ruins of that place (burned in 1688 by M. de Louvois) sufficient, materials could be found to construct bridges, by which we might cross the Rhine there.  We found that the bridges could be made, and returned to announce this to M. de Joyeuse.  Accordingly, on the 20th of July, the army put itself in movement.  The march was made in the utmost confusion.  Everything was in disorder; the infantry and cavalry were huddled together pell-mell; no commands could be acted upon, and indeed the whole army was so disorganised that it could have been easily beaten by a handful of men.  In effect, the enemy at last tried to take advantage of our confusion, by sending a few troops to harass us.  But it was too late; we had sufficiently rallied to be able to turn upon them, and they narrowly escaped falling into our hands.  We encamped that night in the plain on the banks of the Necker—­our rear at Manheim, and our left at Seckenheim, while waiting for the remainder of the army, still very distant.  Indeed, so great had been the confusion, that the first troops arrived at one o’clock at night, and the last late in the morning of the next day.

I thought that our headquarters were to be in this village of Seckenheim, and, in company with several officers took possession of a large house and prepared to pass the night there.  While we were resting from the fatigues of the day we heard a great noise, and soon after a frightful uproar.  It was caused by a body of our men, who, searching for water, had discovered this village, and after having quenched their thirst had, under the cover of thick darkness, set themselves to pillage, to violate, to massacre, and to commit all the horrors inspired by the most unbridled licence:  La Bretesche, a lieutenant-general, declared to me that he had never seen anything like it, although he had several times been at pillages and sackings.  He was very grateful that he had not yielded to my advice, and taken off his wooden leg to be more at ease; for in a short time we ourselves were invaded, and had some trouble to defend ourselves.  As we bore the livery of M. de Lorges, we were respected, but those who bore that of M. de Joyeuse were in some cases severely maltreated.  We passed the rest of the night as well as we could in this unhappy place, which was not abandoned by our soldiers until long after there was nothing more to find.  At daylight we went to the camp.