A man of the name of Hudson, who was one of the pardoned deserters at Rodrigo, while running to my assistance as I afterwards learned, was struck by a bullet in his mouth, which knocked out several of his teeth, and came out at the back of the ear. From this wound, severe as it was, he however recovered. Placing some of the ammunition in my haversack and the remainder in my cap, we were at them again, and recaptured the howitzer in the village, by the assistance of part of the third division. Still pursuing them, the chief part of my company kept on the right of the main road. In all my military life, this sight surpassed anything I ever saw: the two armies hammering at each other, yet apparently with all the coolness of field-day exercise—so beautifully were they brought into action. At this moment I noticed a regiment, which by its yellow facings I think was the 88th or Connaught Rangers, marching in close column of companies to attack a French regiment which was drawn up in line on the verge of a hill with a small village in its rear. The 88th, although at the time under a heavy cannonade from the enemy’s artillery, continued advancing gallantly onwards, which, we skirmishers perceiving, took ground to the left close to the road, in order to enable them to oppose this line in front. Though hotly engaged at the time, I determined to watch their movements. The 88th next deployed into line, advancing all the time towards their opponents, who seemed to wait very coolly for them. When they had approached to within three or four hundred yards, the French poured in a volley or I should say a running fire from right to left. As soon as the British regiment had recovered the first shock, and closed their files on the gap it had made, they commenced advancing at double time until within fifty yards nearer to the enemy, when they halted and in turn gave a running fire from their whole line, and without a moment’s pause cheered and charged up the hill against them. The French meanwhile were attempting to reload. But being hard pressed by the British, who allowed them no time to give a second volley, came immediately to the right about, making the best of their way to the village.[16]