Our battalion at this time was stationed about a mile below La Rhune, and greatly exposed to the storms of wind and rain that we experienced at this period, together with scarcity of provisions. Few of the country people visited us, so that even those in possession of money found little or no benefit from it. Meanwhile the French army, who were encamped about three-quarters of a mile in our front, we had reason to believe, were more fortunate, as they were plentifully supplied with provisions. Occasionally, too, some of our officers were visited by a supply that was smuggled past the French lines. A general attack upon the enemy was now daily expected, as Lord Wellington with his staff had been observed inspecting the enemy’s position with more than ordinary care for the last two or three mornings. On the 9th of November every disposition having been made for attack, the following morning ushered in the battle of the Nivelle. The company I belonged to being this night on picquet, we had orders on the first dawn of light to attack and drive in the enemy’s picquet opposed to us; and as we were preparing for the task, to our surprise we beheld the whole of our division about a hundred yards in our rear waiting to support us. As soon as our attack commenced we could hear the alarm given by at least a hundred drums and bugles; and as the light dawned more clearly, we could see the French columns all in motion. The remainder of our battalion and division coming up, we were soon hotly engaged, a valley only partially separating us from the main body of the enemy. After we had routed them from their first line, and were getting close to their second, an incident occurred that fell under my observation, and I may say, of the greater part of our company. There was a man of the name of Mauley, a shoemaker, who fell shot through the head. This man, nearly the whole time we had been in Spain, lived with a Spanish woman, who was tenderly attached to him. She always got as near to her lover as possible during action, generally on a donkey. On this occasion some of our wounded men passing, informed her Mauley was killed. The poor girl was almost distracted; leaving her donkey and stores behind her (for she acted in some degree as one of the suttlers to our regiment), she rushed down to the spot where Mauley had fallen. We were then in the thick of the fight, and our only safety was cover, as the balls came as thick as hail, so that every moment I expected to see the poor woman shot. She, however, seemed callous to every danger: throwing herself on the blood-stained body of her lover, she commenced giving way to the most appalling ebullition of grief, tearing her hair and wringing her hands.