“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.”