Several battalions of soldiers, in their shirt sleeves despite the cold wind, swarmed in these earthworks like a host of white ants; spadefuls of red clay were continually being thrown up from behind the bank by unseen hands.

Prince Andrew and the officer rode up, looked at the entrenchment, and went on again.

Just behind it they came upon some dozens of soldiers, continually replaced by others, who ran from the entrenchment.

They had to hold their noses and put their horses to a trot to escape from the poisoned atmosphere of these latrines.