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“We landed on the island of South Beeveland, where we remained about three weeks, playing at soldiers, smoking mynheer's long clay pipes, and drinking his vrow's butter-milk, for which I paid liberally with my precious blood to their infernal musquittos ; not to mention that I had all the extra valour shaken out of me by a horrible ague, which commenced a campaign on my carcass and compelled me to retire upon Scotland, for the aid of my native air, by virtue of which it was ultimately routed.”


John Kincaid, Adventures In The Rifle Brigade: In The Peninsula, France And The Netherlands From 1809 To 1815
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