situation and ruined hopes. As we followed the army, Colonel Cadogan made us halt in a plain upon ploughed land, where he began to drill us. We were wet and weary, and like to faint with hunger. The ground was so soft from the rain, we could scarce keep the step. The French were coming down from the heights. “Now,” says he, “there they are; if you are not quicker in your movements, I will leave you every one to them.” At this moment General Hill’s aid-de-camp rode up, saying, “Move on and cover the brigade of artillery, by the General’s order, or you will be all prisoners in five minutes.” We immediately left off drill, and marched on until dark, under a heavy rain and over miserable roads, one shoe in our hand, the other on our knapsack. As we entered a wood we were agreeably annoyed by the grunting of hogs and squeaking of pigs. “There is a town here,” says my comrade. We all longed for “pile arms.” At length the word was given, and cooks ordered to cut wood. More cooks than one turned out of each mess, and went in different directions in search of forage. All this time the whole wood resounded with the reports of muskets. It resembled a wood contested by the enemy. At length our cooks returned, one with a pig, another with a skin of wine, or with flour, and we made a hearty supper, and lay down happy and contented. Next morning we continued the line of march under a heavy rain; the horses were scarce able to drag the cannon through the mud. We marched thus, about eight miles, and halted at a village, where we encamped and cooked the remains of our pork. Every one was engaged cooking or cutting wood, when the French made their appearance on the opposite heights. The bugle sounded to fall in; immediately we formed square to receive cavalry. They galloped down close to our square. We had not time to load our pieces; and many of us were only half accoutred, they had come so quick upon us. Many of them were very much in liquor: three or four galloped into the centre of our square; we opened to receive them. A brigade of guns coming to our relief, they put to the right about and fled. We stood under arms for some time. A brigade of French infantry was drawn up on the opposite heights. It being only their advanced guard, Lord Wellington gave orders to pile arms, but to remain accoutred. We stood in this position, the rain pouring upon us, until we were forced to lie down through fatigue. Day at length appearing, we got orders to move on after the army in sections, the enemy having retired through the night. We had not moved thus two miles, until the French advance came down upon us, picking up every individual who fell out. The cries of the women and children were dreadful as we left them. We were retiring in square, playing a howitzer from the centre, to keep their cavalry in check. We continued to move on in this manner, sending out the left company to fire and retire. The rain poured; the roads were knee-deep; when one had to stop all were