My dear Parents—As I informed you, some unforeseen accident might prevent me having the extreme felicity of paying you a visit this winter, so things have turned out. However, when you are acquainted with the circumstances you will rather attribute it to good fortune than otherwise. To begin my story. On the 7th of October a combined attack of the whole army commenced upon the whole line of the enemy's position. The papers have already given you the particulars. The enemy were so thunderstruck at the desperate bravery of our gallant fellows, that they were driven from all their fortified positions in succession, and when they had the temerity to stand, the bayonet decided the business. The enemy that day was sent scampering into his own territory. Thus, using the words of Soult, "The proud islanders overlooked the fine fertile valleys of France." The part of the line occupied by our Division was on the top of an immense high chain of mountains. In consequence of very bad weather, and being so elevated, we were exposed to continual hurricanes and incessant snow, sleet, or rain. Some men died from the cold. This respite gave the enemy time to construct works, which he was incessantly labouring at. Our situation, as you may well conceive, was not an enviable one. We wished for the happy moment to drive the enemy from his present position, in order that we might have some warmer cantonments for the winter. Our noble chief soon gratified our wishes, and gave out an order on the evening of the 9th of November: "To-morrow the army will drive the French upon Bayonne and behind the river Adour. Light Division will get under arms at 2 o'clock in the morning and march to the point of attack, where the Division will form in three columns of attack and remain until daylight, and the signal to advance will be a salvo from thirty pieces of cannon." This order produced the greatest joy. We spent a jovial evening, singing and dancing until 12 o'clock. I then rolled myself up in my blanket and slept until two, fell in, and marched to the place appointed. As soon as the day dawned the long-wished signal was given. No music is so delicious to the ear of a soldier. We moved forward under a heavy fire from the enemy's works without ever exchanging a shot until we got up to them and scaled the walls. Then the work of death commenced. _Johnny_ was so paralysed at the cool bravery of the British that he instantly became panic-struck and ran in every direction. Some few who had the temerity to stand were instantly no more. I saw some heroic officers who tried to rally their men. They fell like brave soldiers, covered with wounds and with glory. In this way we carried work after work which were apparently invulnerable. It was a beautiful sight to see 70,000 men or more moving in every direction. A continued roar of cannon and musketry, the smoke rising along the whole line. We marched and fought until about three o'clock in the afternoon, when we formed to attack