The short time we remained at Tormes we were very ill off for provisions. One of our men, Thomas Cadwell, found a piece of meat near the hospital on the face of the brae: he brought it home and cooked it. A good part of it was eaten before one of the men, perceiving him, said, “What is that you are eating?” Tom said it was meat he had found. The others looked and knew it to be the fore arm of a man; the hand was not at it--it was only the part from a little below the elbow and above the wrist. The man threw it away, but never looked squeamish; he said it was very sweet, and was never a bit the worse. The French left strong picquets in front, stole down the river, and crossed, hoping to surprise us and come upon our rear. We immediately blew up the bridge and retired. Many of our men had to ford the river. We left a Spanish garrison in the fort and retired to the heights. There was a mill on the river side near the bridge, wherein a number of our men were helping themselves to flour during the time the others were fording. Our Colonel rode down and forced them out, throwing a handful of flour on each man as he passed out of the mill. When we were drawn up on the height, he rode along the column, looking for the millers, as we called them. At this moment a hen put her head out of his coat-pocket, and looked first to one side and then to another. We began to laugh; we could not restrain ourselves. He looked amazed and furious at us, then around. At length the Major rode up to him, and requested him to kill the fowl outright, and put it into his pocket. The Colonel, in his turn, laughed, called his servant, and the millers were no more looked after.