A FEW days after our arrival at Villa de Mula, a part of the division formed a night expedition to surprise and cut off one or two French regiments that nightly occupied an advanced position on our right, retiring every morning about daylight. The rifles got under arms at ten o’clock at night, and were soon afterwards joined by several companies of the 43rd and 52nd regiments, together with one or two troops of the 14th Light Dragoons, and some of our favourite Germans. We soon guessed that some secret enterprise was about to be undertaken, as strict orders were issued to keep the men from talking, and to make them refrain from lighting their pipes, lest our approach should be noticed by the enemy. Even the wheels of two of Captain Ross’s guns that accompanied us, were muffled round with haybands to prevent their creaking. In this disposition we proceeded in the direction of the left of the enemy’s position which rested on Villa de Puerco. We had all loaded before marching, and were anxiously looking forward to the result, when a whispering order was given to enter a large field of standing corn and to throw ourselves on the ground. There we anxiously waited the first dawn of day for the expected engagement. At length the cold gray of the morning appeared faintly in the east, when the commands were given with scarce a pause between to “fall in,” “double,” and “extend.” This was accomplished in a moment, and forward we ran through the corn field up to an eminence, looking down from which we beheld a gallant skirmish on the plain beneath. The 14th Dragoons were in the act of charging a body of French infantry, who had, however, thrown themselves into square. The cavalry cheered forward in gallant style, but the French, veteran like, stood firm to meet the onset, pouring in, at the same time, a close running fire that emptied many saddles. Lieutenant-Colonel Talbot, who headed the charge, fell almost immediately, together with the quarter-master and from sixteen to eighteen privates. After an unavailing attempt to shake the square, the cavalry was obliged to retire—a movement which the enemy on their part immediately imitated. An attempt was made to annoy them with our guns, but in consequence of their smallness, being but light field-pieces, our shots were attended with very little effect. The following day, we buried Colonel Talbot and the quarter-master close to the porch of the little chapel in the village we occupied—a somewhat romantic-looking spot for a soldier’s grave. The miscarriage of our enterprise, it was generally rumoured, had brought our general into bad odour at head-quarters; indeed, for some days after, I thought he wore a troubled look, as though he took our failure to heart.