[Footnote 43: It was not till the 12th of August that rations of spirits were delivered to the troops, and only on the 2nd September, that the regular delivery of provision, allowed the stoppage of sixpence per day.] NARRATIVE OF THE CAMPAIGN IN HOLLAND IN 1814, WITH DETAILS OF THE ATTACK ON BERGEN-OP-ZOOM: BY LIEUT. J. W. DUNBAR MOODIE, H. P. 21ST FUSILEERS. (ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED IN THE UNITED SERVICE JOURNAL.) NARRATIVE OF THE CAMPAIGN IN HOLLAND IN 1814. There are certain events in the life of every man on which the memory dwells with peculiar pleasure; and the impressions they leave, from being interwoven with his earliest and most agreeable associations, are not easily effaced from his mind. Sixteen years have now elapsed since the short campaign in Holland, and the ill-fated attack on Bergen-op-Zoom; but almost every circumstance that passed under my notice at that period, still remains as vividly pictured in my mind as if it had occurred but yesterday. Our regiment, the 21st, or Royal North British Fusileers, was stationed at Fort-George when the order came for our embarkation for Holland. Whoever has experienced the dull monotony of garrison duty, may easily conceive the joy with which the intelligence was hailed. The eve of our embarkation was spent in all the hilarity inspired by the occasion, and, as may be supposed, the bottle circulated with more than ordinary rapidity. Our convoy, Captain Nixon, R.N. in return for some kindness he had met with from my family, while on the Orkney station, insisted on my taking my passage to Helvoet Sluys, along with our commanding officer and acting-adjutant, on board his own vessel, the Nightingale. The scene that was exhibited next day, as we were embarking, must be familiar to most military men. The beach presented a spectacle I shall never forget. While the boats, crowded with soldiers, with their arms glittering in the sun, were pushing off, women were to be seen up to their middles in the water, bidding, perhaps, a last farewell to their husbands; while others were sitting disconsolate on the rocks, stupified with grief, and almost insensible of what was going forward. Many of the poor creatures were pouring out blessings on the officers, and begging us to be kind to their husbands. At last, when we had got the soldiers fairly seated in their places, which was no easy task, we pulled off, while the shouts of our men were echoed back in wailings and lamentations, mixed with benedictions, from the unhappy women left behind us. As for the officers, most of us being young fellows, and single, we had little to damp our joy at going on foreign service. For my own part, I confess I felt some tender regrets in parting with