The Grovely Wood, or Great Ridge as it is termed, was an advantage to the southern force. It extended for many miles continuous with their right flank, and enabled them at any time to use its various openings for the purpose of raiding the valley of the Wiley, or for obtaining information of any changes occurring in the camp of the enemy, posted on the higher ground between Codford and Wishford. On the 7th September, the battle of Wishford took place, and was commenced by a large portion of the southern army (using the Great Ridge as a screen) making a detour to the eastward, and then, when clear, crossing the Wiley lower down at Wilton, and attacking in force the left flank of the enemy at the time resting on the undulating ground above the village of Wishford. The attack was irresistible, and to all appearances unexpected; the numbers of the attackers being in excess of the defenders, and no help from centre or flank being given. Indeed this portion of the northern army had been kept fully employed during the time occupied by the flank movement of the southerners, by frequent attacks on it made by the troops holding Great Ridge and the intervening valley of the Wiley; so that probably their being attacked in force on the left was a surprise, and doubtless a defeat. It was a very hard day's work, beginning any short time after daybreak, lasting until nearly sunset, and it required a man to be the sternest of disciplinarians not to enter fully into the satisfactory feelings of H.M. Guards, when, some time before the finish of the day, they were told by their commanding officer to lie down. "Smoke, if you like," added the hardened man, as he expressed himself grateful to the cocked hat putting him and his regiment out of action till the battle was over. Misguided man; he had perhaps despised his enemy, or on some hill, somewhere, artillery were massed, and would play havoc among his men, and for these he had not allowed. "You should have reduced your front, sir," said he of the cocked hat, with withering sarcasm in his tone, adding, "You are out of action until the battle is over." "Thank God! Lie down, my men," was the impenitent reply of that colonel. Tired, hungry, and footsore, the battalion marched back again to Wilton, and there, whilst the train was preparing by which they should return homewards, they were hospitably entertained by Captain the Earl of Pembroke, a proceeding certainly not anticipated earlier in the day, by the noble host, or his hungry guests. The following extract from Battalion Orders, dated 21st September, 1872, is given:--