The change of climate had already sown the seeds of disease among the infantry, and many who arrived at Gallipoli from Malta got no farther and never came back. The number of our infantry landed at Gallipoli was considerable, consisting of the 93rd, 41st, 77th, 88th, 33rd, 28th, 44th, and 60th regiments, and a portion of the rifle brigade. In addition to the above, about 20,000 French and a large Turkish force had been encamped in the neighbourhood. The commander-in-chief, Lord Raglan, with a portion of his staff, arrived at Gallipoli early in May, and the Duke of Cambridge was only a few days behind him. General Sir George Brown and a numerous staff came out with the first expedition, and the French commander-in-chief, Marshal St. Arnaud, General Canrobert, Prince Napoleon, etc, also sailed, via Gallipoli, where they reviewed and manoeuvred the French troops prior to their moving to Scutari, where I first saw them, and it was interesting to witness the curiosity with which some of our men eyed the French infantry, particularly the Zouaves. At first sight the Zouave strikes you as being a native of India, being a deep copper colour, with a flowing beard and huge moustachios. Many suppose them to be Arabs, but the majority are of pure French descent, and I more than suspect that they dye their skin with some liquid to darken it, and give them a more picturesque appearance. Their uniform is loose and easy, forming a striking contrast to the buttoned-up straight-jacket style with which our soldiers are encased and encumbered. The height of these Zouaves runs from five feet four inches to five feet seven inches, and they are proportionately stout and well made, with wiry wearing limbs, and a quickness in their eye and every movement that many of our crack infantry regiments would do well to emulate. They wear a red cap and tassel, in addition to which they have several folds of cloth round their head, altogether forming a sort of turban. Their jackets are blue with scarlet facings; they have also a scarlet waistcoat and a sash to fold several times round the waist. They wear no stocks, and their necks are quite bare; their trousers are red and made very wide, reaching only as far as the knees, where they are met by a sort of yellow gaiter, reaching to the shoes. They regarded a party of ours with as much interest as some of our fellows did them, being particularly struck with the weight of our swords and the pure whiteness of our belts. One of our men remarked, while eyeing over a little consequential fellow (who seemed particularly busy, thrusting his hands into our sabretaches, ostensibly to examine them, but probably for plunder), that he was "so dried up and so hard-fleshed, that no ball could ever enter into his body, no shell could tear him to pieces, and the most experienced carver at a cannibal banquet would have great difficulty in cutting him up." The worst part of these meetings with