Two days before our arrival at Salamanca, we were forced to form ourselves into a square, to repel the attacks of the enemy; and in that position we remained all night. It was one of the severest nights of cold I ever endured in my life. At that time we wore long hair, formed into a club at the back of our heads. Mine was frozen to the ground in the morning, and when I attempted to rise, my limbs refused to support me for some time. I felt the most excruciating pains over all my body, before the blood began to circulate. We marched forty-seven miles this day, before encamping, and about nine miles to a town next morning, where the inhabitants were very kind to us. They brought out, into the market-place, large tubfuls of accadent, (a liquor much used in Spain,) that we might take our pleasure of it; and every thing they had that we stood in need of. This day we are under the necessity of burying six guns, on account of the horses failing, being quite worn down by fatigue. The head-quarters of the army were at Salamanca. Our division was quartered three leagues from it, at Alva de Tormes. On the 14th of December, we advanced to a place called Torro; the roads were bad; the weather very severe; all around was covered with snow. Our fatigue was dreadful, and our sufferings almost more than we could endure. On the 24th of December, our head-quarters were at Sahagun. Every heart beat with joy. We were all under arms, and formed to attack the enemy. Every mouth breathed hope: “We will beat them to pieces, and have our ease, and enjoy ourselves,” said my comrades. I even preferred any short struggle, however severe, to the dreadful way of life we were at this time pursuing. With heavy hearts, we received orders to retire to our quarters: “And won’t we be allowed to fight? sure we’d beat them,” said an Irish lad near me; “by Saint Patrick, we beat them so easy, the General means to march us to death, and fight them after!” Next morning, we fell back upon Majorga, on the road to Benevente. On the 25th, Christmas day, we commenced our route for the sea-coast, melancholy and dejected, sinking under extreme cold and fatigue, as if the very elements had conspired against us: then commenced the first day of our retreat. On the 26th, it rained the whole day without intermission. The soil here is of a deep rich loam, and the roads were knee-deep with clay: to form a regular march was impossible, yet we kept in regiments; but our sufferings were so great, that many of our troops lost all their natural activity and spirits, and became savage in their dispositions. The idea of running away from an enemy we had beat with so much ease at Vimeira, without even firing a shot, was too galling to their feelings. Each spoke to his fellow, even in common conversation, with bitterness; rage flashing from their eyes, even on the most trifling occasions of disagreement.