from the besieged town every minute or two shaking the atmosphere, and the rifles of the skirmishers in irregular reports, startling the ear—these, with a consciousness that I was a part of the machine of war, gave an interest to every thing around me which I had never felt before, and which I cannot now recall without delight. The first day we appeared before Flushing, and the following we were entirely employed in guarding against surprise; we were constantly under arms, and could only regale ourselves with what we chanced to have brought with us. However, rations were soon delivered out to us, and with the help of sods and green bushes, grass, &c. we constructed huts, which, with an old barn, helped us to make ourselves feel quite “at home.” This was on the 1st and 2nd of August, from which time, until the bombardment commenced (the 13th), we had little to do but to work at the batteries and trenches; and to let ourselves be shot at and shelled at by the town; with the exception, indeed, of one evening's sharp work, when the garrison made a _sortie_ upon us. This, while it lasted, was a tough contest, and although at least 20,000 men sallied out from the town, as much intent on mischief as men well could be, they were forced to retire in double-quick time, after about an hour's hard work, with nothing but their labour and their loss for their pains. It was, I think, on the 6th of August, that the _sortie_ was made, and from the gate which opened on the main road to Middleburg. A few of my brother officers and I had been smoking cigars, and moistening our lips with a little Hollands and water, in an almost roofless cottage, and, I recollect, we were talking of the very fortunate escape which one of our officers, then present, had had about three hours before, from a shell which had fallen scarcely a foot from him, and laughing at the manner in which he had run away from the ignited globe of destruction, when we heard a volley of musketry apparently not more than a quarter of a mile away, and in a moment the orderly sergeant brought us instructions to “turn out” forthwith. The regiment was under arms and upon the main road in a few minutes, when we perceived a body of our troops falling back, while the French were yelling as if in triumph, their voices only drowned by the loud discharges of musketry from both sides. It was almost dark, but the twilight was sufficient for us to discover a little disorder in the regiment before us. Our lads muttered to each other as they advanced at a rapid pace, “Oh! by J——s we'll soon stop yiz!”—“Wait 'till we come at you, you beggars!” &c. and such from every part of the ranks were not the most unpleasant sounds I ever heard,—my heart swelled with exultation when I heard the men, and witnessed their manly courage. “Steady, my lads—silence till you fire—wait, my lads—steady,” passed from the Colonel, as we pushed on, and in a few minutes the regiment before us opened.