From the time we left Tarifa, about three o’clock on the 26th, up to the same hour on the 29th, the weather was so rainy and boisterous as to frustrate all the plans of the British general commanding at Cadiz. In consequence of this, double despatches were sent to Colonel Browne, one from Sir R. Keats (I could never learn why), the other from General Graham, stating that from the boisterous state of the weather the intended movements and the sortie from the Isla were postponed, and therefore directing his return to Tarifa as soon as possible. The gunboat which carried these despatches arrived at Tarifa only on the morning of the 29th. The naval officer in charge was strictly enjoined to give his despatches into no other hands than those of Colonel Browne, or in his absence to a commissioned officer, who should be held responsible personally for their delivery to the colonel. There was no officer left in Tarifa except Lieutenant Light of the Grenadiers (shortly afterwards shot through the body at Barossa), and he but just recovering from a severe fit of illness. He, though willing to undertake the duty, was incapable from weakness; and as the naval officer insisted on the absolute necessity of delivering the despatches immediately, Assistant-Surgeon Johnson, who had charge of the sick, volunteered to be the bearer and unhesitatingly set forth. Having arrived at a small hamlet about two miles short of Casa Vieja and rather out of his direct road (he had no guide and was never there before), he enquired where the British troops were, when he was answered, “At Casa Vieja”; and they pointed to the convent. He rode directly to the gate, and was instantly fired at from within. This took place at the very moment when, as I have mentioned, the light company were replaced immediately over the convent and the guerillas ordered to maintain a vigilant look-out. As soon as the doctor was fired at by the French from within, he, as was natural, wheeled round and galloped away at full speed, but not knowing what direction to take, he unfortunately took the road to Vejer, of which place in our present situation we felt particularly jealous. As the convent intervened, the doctor’s approach from the hamlet had not been seen by us; but when we saw him gallop away from it at full speed, the light company would certainly have fired at him had he not been instantly covered by the mountain round which he rode. To protect himself from the inclemency of the weather, which continued wet and stormy, he wore a blue greatcoat buttoned up to the chin, over which he carried a loose camlet cloak. His cocked hat was covered with oilskin, strapped also under his chin; and in all he showed no appearance of a British officer. In his flight he was unfortunately discovered by some of the guerillas, who like us mistaking him for a French officer endeavouring to escape, rode at him with their lances. On such occasions the lower end of the lance, which