On Monday a grand council of generals and admirals took place at the Palais Royal.

Yesterday, and all last night, drums were beating, trumpets were blowing, and troops were marching through the streets.

The war battalions of the National Guard, in their new uniforms, spick and span, were greeted with shouts, to which they replied by singing a song, the chorus of which is "Vive la guerre, Piff-Paff," and which has replaced the "Marseillaise." As the ambulances had been ordered to be ready to start at six in the morning, I presumed that business would commence at an early hour, and I ordered myself to be called at 5.30.I was called, and got out of my bed, but, alas for noble resolutions! having done so, I got back again into it and remained between the sheets quietly enjoying that sleep which is derived from the possession of a good conscience, and a still better digestion, until the clock struck nine.
It was not until past eleven o'clock that I found myself on the outside of the gate of La Villette, advancing, as Grouchy should have done at Waterloo, in the direction of the sound of the cannon.

From the gate a straight road runs to Le Bourget, having the Fort of Aubervilliers on the right, and St.Denis on the left.

Between the fort and the gate there were several hundred ambulance waggons, and above a thousand "brancardiers," stamping their feet and blowing on their fingers to keep themselves warm.