The next morning a most superb breakfast was on my table when I returned from a stroll in the woods--the finest milk, eggs, and butter I ever saw in my life, and in profusion. My servant had procured them at the adjoining farm, and so cheap, that he had brought a large soup-plate full of eggs and an antique jug holding more than two quarts of milk. During our whole stay at Strytem there was never any difference in this respect--always abundance. After breakfast, the usual watering order parade took place in the grand avenue, under the shade of stately beeches. The contented countenances of the men, the sleek coats and frolicksome spirit of the horses, testified sufficiently that neither had fared indifferently. I found, however, that the chateau farm was rather crowded, and therefore detached the 1st division, officer and all, to a small village, with a pretty chateau on the hill, about a mile from us--Yseringen. This move made all hands completely comfortable, and so we went on. Nothing could exceed the delicious tranquillity I enjoyed in Strytem. For those who preferred more bustle and more society Brussels was at hand, and thither they frequently repaired; on the other side Ninove, the headquarters of Lord Uxbridge, who commanded the cavalry, was only three or four miles distant, and all the surrounding villages were full of cavalry or horse-artillery. Every one breakfasted in his own apartment. At ten A.M. watering order parade and inspection of horses, &c. Then, after visiting the billets and getting through any casual business, I was at liberty, and, mounting my horse, employed the remainder of the morning in exploring the country. In the evening we all assembled to our social meal. Those who had been to Brussels (or, as we used to say, “Up to town”) usually brought some news, or at least some gossip, which added zest to the excellent cheer almost always on our board. How our table was furnished I do not exactly recollect, my notes on the subject being silent,[6] but believe the meat was ration brought from Ninove every day by our commissary (Mr Coates), so was the bread. Poultry, vegetables, &c. &c., we procured in abundance amongst our neighbours; our wine came from Brussels; candles, wood, &c., from Ninove. After dinner some took a short ride previous to seeing their horses done up for the night. For my part, I preferred enjoying the calm beauties of evening with my cigar under the splendid avenue of beech in rear of the chateau, and when night closed in, retired to my antique saloon, which a blazing fire of fagots and a couple of candles made tolerably comfortable. Here I busied myself in Madame de Genlis’s ‘Life of Henri IV.,’ sometimes until midnight, tranquil and happy. At times, as I occasionally looked up from my book and cast my eyes round, no sound interrupting the solemn stillness save the ticking of my watch as it lay on the table before me, the croaking of the frogs, or the moaning of the wind as it eddied round the old