At last the time had arrived when the remnant were to leave. We were all mustered upon deck, numbering about one hundred and fifty. Our baggage, poor and scant as it was, we had need to take the utmost care of, as winter was advancing, and we knew of no means of procuring more. We were then conveyed in barges and put on board the 'Leyden,' an old sixty-four gun ship, taken from the Dutch in by-gone days, and now used for a transport for troops, prisoners, etc. In due course of time we were landed in Plymouth. It was early on a bleak, cloudy morning, late in the autumn, that we disembarked, and were placed in immediate line of march, under a guard of a sufficient number of soldiers with loaded muskets, who had orders to shoot down the first who evinced a disposition to leave the line. The whole was under the command of a captain, lieutenant, etc., who were on horseback. We had been on the road scarcely an hour, when the rain, which had been threatening all the morning, now came down with sweeping fury; and although not sufficiently cold to freeze, yet it possessed a keenness that appeared to penetrate the skin. The roads being of a clayey soil soon became of the consistency of mortar by the tramping of so many feet, and our march might have been traced for several miles by the old boots, shoes, and stockings, which were left sticking in the mud in the hurry of the march. I have no doubt that we made a very grotesque appearance, and raised many a smile from some of the passers-by. Our march continued throughout the day without interruption, save occasional short halts to bring up those who lagged behind; for many began to be exhausted from cold, fatigue and hunger. We had not tasted a morsel of food since the day before.