The Duc de Broglie having quarrelled with the Comte de St. Germain who commanded the army of the Rhine, generally failed to act in concert with him, and thus saved the Prince from the, perhaps fatal, hazard of meeting their united strength in another general action. Prior to this quarrel (which ultimately compelled the Count to retire from the service) the French arms had been very successful.
They had overrun the whole Landgraviate of Hesse, with their grand army, leaving troops to blockade the castles of Marburg and Dillenburg, the operations before which were successfully conducted on the plans of Gervais Monjoy, while St. Germain marched through Westphalia to form a junction with the Maréchal Duc, who, by the 10th of July, had encamped on the heights of Corbach.
On hearing that his two castles had fallen into the hands of the French, Prince Ferdinand, whom the papers I had found in the sabretache of Boisguiller had fully informed of the intended movement towards Corbach, commenced a retreat from Fritzlar towards the river Dymel; and sent his son, the Hereditary Prince, with a strong detachment towards Sachsenhausen where he meant to encamp. Some British troops, horse and foot, accompanied the young Prince on this expedition, and of these our regiment unluckily formed a part.
We continued to advance without opposition until the 30th of the month, when on coming in sight of the heights of Corbach and the distant town of Ysembourg, we found a body of French troops formed in order of battle and barring our march to Sachsenhausen.
Their strength seemed to be about ten battalions and fifteen squadrons, so far as we could judge at first.
"Now who or what the devil may these be?" we asked of each other, when we saw their arms shining in the sun, their colours waving in the wind, and the long line of white coats, three ranks deep, appear on the green mountain slope, where we had no idea of meeting any troops at all.
"Oh," said several, especially the staff officers who were spurring to and fro, in evident excitement; "'tis only the vanguard of the Comte de St. Germain, whom we must drive in."
The order was instantly given for the infantry to attack, the cavalry to support, and now began a brief but sharp, and to us very fatal engagement.
It was the noon of a lovely summer day.
Near us the Itter was rolling a blue flood between the green mountains, its banks fringed by light waving willows and dark wild laurels; beyond an opening or pass in the mountains where some French artillery were in position, we saw a fair and fertile plain, dotted by poplar trees, stretching far away in the sunlight, and the quaint old town of Corbach, with its ruddy walls and latticed windows that glittered like plates of gold.