The time having arrived to get rid of the cumbrous sick and wounded officers, we were removed to los Pasages and there embarked in a transport bound for Portsmouth; but the wind proving contrary prevented our entering the channel and we were compelled to put into Bantry Bay in Ireland. Here we anchored close to a village, if I recollect right, called Castletown, and put up at an inn kept by the widow Martin. The wind continuing very boisterous and contrary, we resolved to travel overland through Ireland. Enquiring for a postchaise, we were informed that there was a postchaise, but that some miles of the road were as yet unfinished, and consequently not carriageable. Upon this we dropped down to the village bearing the name of the bay. Here having learned that the road was perfectly good, we landed our baggage and went ashore; but now to our great dismay we found that this village had no postchaise. In this dilemma we decided to place our baggage on pack-saddles and to travel as in Spain. The operation of packing had commenced, when looking into the courtyard I discovered a hearse. Upon enquiry the waiter said: “Please, your honour, it is an ould lady who died here lately, and her friends thought they would bury her proudly; so they sent to Cork for the hearse and it is going back to-day to Bandon.” I sent for the driver and immediately concluded a bargain; he engaged to carry us to Bandon in the hearse; and thence we were to have two postchaises to take us to Cork for a sum agreed upon. The pack-saddling was relinquished; and the whole party, consisting of Captain Taylor, 28th, with a broken thigh, Captain Girlston, 31st, a broken arm, Captains Bryan and Cone, 39th, sick leaves, and Captain Blakeney, 36th, a broken leg, entered the hearse. Our first stage was Dunmanway, where we made a tremendous meal; the innkeeper complimented us by saying that he never saw travellers in a hearse make so hearty a breakfast. Our appearance must have been extraordinary; for as we moved along in the carriage of death, but not with its usual pace, the country folk, abandoning their legitimate avocations, ran after us for miles.