Soon after this we arrived at Malplaquet without being able to see it--the truth is, that it consists of a number of large farm-houses, &c., all standing isolated, and surrounded by thick orchards. In one of these we established our bivouac. A beggarly-looking old house, built of wattles, plastered with clay (which in many places had fallen off), windows without glass, and doorways without doors, stood in one corner of our orchard, and as this was very cheerless from the heavy rain, we agreed to do comfortable and dine in the _house_. Accordingly, our prog and materials were conveyed thither, and the dame was desired to make a fire in her best _salon_; yet, after all, it was a matter of doubt whether we should not have been more comfortable under the apple-trees, barring the droppings. The place was a perfect picture of misery; rooms disgustingly filthy, and besides, blackened with smoke; floor of earth, broken into all sorts of holes and inequalities; ceiling of loose planks and full of large holes, as were the partitions; furniture--a rickety table, two or three as rickety chairs, and a sort of chest of walnut, serving the place of a chest of drawers, black as ebony from age and dirt. The mistress, a grown-up daughter, and three or four young children, were the only inmates of this wretched mansion we saw--filthy as their dwelling, their clothes all in rags, and without shoe or stocking. These poor creatures were so alarmed at us that they scarcely seemed to know what they were doing. Our dinner, of course, was none of the most comfortable; but some hot grog and cigars afterwards put us all in good-humour, and we passed the evening admirably. In due time we retired to the nests our servants had provided for us in the orchard, and I was soon sound asleep, but was aroused about two o’clock by the sergeant-major, with a lantern in one hand and a paper in the other, which a dragoon had just brought from headquarters. This was an order to march at four A.M. Raining hard. END OF THE FIRST VOLUME. PRINTED BY WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS, EDINBURGH. FOOTNOTES: [1] The port of Ostend is what people usually term a “dry harbour.” It is dry at low tide, but the flood brings in about 16 or 18 feet water. [2] _Ghistel_, according to the map of Maillart, &c. [3] The Church of Notre Dame ceased to be a cathedral 1801, when it was united to the diocese of Ghent. [4] M‘Donald’s troop had arrived ten days before us. [5] La Folle Marguerite (?), 18 feet long and 3 feet in diameter, near the Marché de Vendredi; it is called the Mannekens Aert. It is named after a Countess of Flanders celebrated for the violence of her temper. It is also designated the Wonder of Ghent, is made of malleable iron, and, according to another account, was used by Philip Van Arteveldt at the siege of Oudenarde in 1382.--Quin’s ‘Moselle,’ &c., vol. i. p. 160. [6] The moat supplied us daily a dish of very fine carp, and the gardener’s sons occasionally shot us a hare or two.