After remaining here for some time, we left Rueda at twelve o’clock at night on the 16th, the enemy, who had concentrated their forces at Tordesillas, being on the advance. The following morning the sun rose unclouded, presenting distinctly to the view the two armies moving in parallel lines along a ridge of low hills, separated only by the intervening valley and a river fordable in most places. The French columns appeared in such beautiful order, as to call forth the plaudits of even our own men. Skirmishing, however, was soon commenced between some of the cavalry and light troops. One or two companies of our Rifles, seconded by a troop of the 14th Dragoons, were soon partially engaged with about a corresponding number of the enemy, who would occasionally dash through the little river, and attempt to take up a position to annoy our skirmishers. Our riflemen, in particular, were highly delighted with several little cavalry brushes that occurred this day between our dragoons and the French. One instance of gallantry on the part of a French dragoon, which fell under the eyes of most of us, was particularly exciting: in a kind of half charge that had been made by about a section of French and English cavalry, one of the Frenchmen had dashed alone through some of our dragoons. His own party having retired, there seemed every prospect of his being instantly killed or taken prisoner, and, indeed, most of us thought, as there were at least a dozen of our 14th Dragoons between him and his section, that he would surrender. Not so, however, thought the gallant Frenchman, but wheeling round, he gently trotted his horse for about twenty yards, when he gave spurs to his steed, and after several hand-to-hand conflicts with our dragoons in passing, he actually succeeded in reaching his party, I believe unhurt, and attended by the cheers of our own men, who were not insensible, at any time, to the intrepidity even of an enemy.