a contraband article, which the prisoners, in order to procure
themselves a few of the necessaries and comforts of existence, were in
the habit of making, red-coated battalions were marched into the prisons,
who, with the bayonet's point, carried havoc and ruin into every poor
convenience which ingenious wretchedness had been endeavouring to raise
around it; and then the triumphant exit with the miserable booty; and,
worst of all, the accursed bonfire, on the barrack parade, of the plait
contraband, beneath the view of the glaring eyeballs from those lofty
roofs, amidst the hurrahs of the troops, frequently drowned in the curses
poured down from above like a tempest-shower, or in the terrific
war-whoop of "_Vive l'Empereur_!"

It was midsummer when we arrived at this place, and the weather, which
had for a long time been wet and gloomy, now became bright and glorious.
I was subjected to but little control, and passed my time pleasantly
enough, principally in wandering about the neighbouring country. It was
flat and somewhat fenny, a district more of pasture than agriculture, and
not very thickly inhabited. I soon became well acquainted with it. At
the distance of two miles from the station was a large lake, styled in
the dialect of the country a "mere," about whose borders tall reeds were
growing in abundance. This was a frequent haunt of mine; but my
favourite place of resort was a wild sequestered spot at a somewhat
greater distance. Here, surrounded with woods, and thick groves, was the
seat of some ancient family, deserted by the proprietor, and only
inhabited by a rustic servant or two. A place more solitary and wild
could scarcely be imagined; the garden and walks were overgrown with
weeds and briars, and the unpruned woods were so tankled as to be almost
impervious. About this domain I would wander till overtaken by fatigue,
and then I would sit down with my back against some beech, elm or stately
alder tree, and, taking out my book, would pass hours in a state of
unmixed enjoyment, my eyes now fixed on the wondrous pages, now glancing
at the sylvan scene around; and sometimes I would drop the book and
listen to the voice of the rooks and wild pigeons, and not unfrequently
to the croaking of multitudes of frogs from the neighbouring swamps and
fens.

In going to and from this place I frequently passed a tall, elderly
individual, dressed in rather a quaint fashion, with a skin cap on his
head and stout gai