This day Feldmarschall Fermor arrives in his principal Camp here.

For many weeks past he has been dribbling across the Weichsel hitherward, into various small camps, with Cossack Parties flying about, under check of General Platen.

But now, being all across, and reunited, Fermor shoots out Cossack Parties of quite other weight and atrocity; and is ready to begin business,--still a little uncertain how.

His Cossacks, under their Demikows, Romanzows; capable of no good fighting, but of endless incendiary mischief in the neighborhood;--shoot far ahead into Prussian territory: Platen, Hordt with his Free-Corps, are beautifully sharp upon them; but many beatings avail little.

'They burn the town of Driesen [Hordt having been hard upon them there]; town of Ratzebuhr, and nineteen villages around;'-- burn poor old women and men, one poor old clergyman especially, wind him well in straw-roping, then set fire, and leave him;--and are worse than fiends or hyenas.