Thus ended the retreat to Corunna. From the spot where he fell, Sir John Moore was carried to the town by a party of soldiers. The blood flowed fast, and the torture 68of the wound increased; but such was the firmness of his mind that those about him expressed a hope that his hurt was not mortal. Hearing this, he looked steadfastly at the injury for a moment, and then said: ‘No; I feel that to be impossible.’ Several times he caused his attendants to stop and turn him round, that he might behold the field of battle; and when the firing indicated the advance of the British, he expressed his satisfaction, and permitted the bearers to proceed. Being brought to his lodgings, the surgeons examined the wound; but there was no hope. The pain increased, and he spake with great difficulty. His countenance continued firm, and his thoughts clear; only once, when he spake of his mother, he became agitated. The fight was scarcely ended when his corpse, wrapped in a military cloak, was interred by the officers of his staff in the citadel of Corunna. The guns of the enemy paid his funeral honours; and Soult, with a noble feeling of respect for his valour, raised a monument to his memory. Through the whole of this eventful retreat I was mercifully preserved from grievous injury. The privations of the army were shared by all; and to these I was no stranger. Many miles of road through which our route lay were nearly deserted by the inhabitants, who, unknowing whom to trust, were afraid both of friend and foe; hence arose great scarcity of provisions. It often happened that long before we had appeared tidings of our approach had induced the entire population of the district to disappear, and with it all vestiges of food. Wine might occasionally be obtained, and sometimes in profusion; but I had observed that when our men had indulged in strong liquor, with little or no solid food, the effect was injurious, so that on the following day, when the excitement had subsided, they were unable to keep our pace: diminished strength thus compelled them to drop off, and not a few 69were actually picked up by the French, who hung on our rear. Another serious difficulty arose from the circumstance that our retreat was conducted in winter. The roads for an immense distance had been torn into deep ruts by the wheels of the baggage-wagons and cannon, and rendered rough by the trampling of cavalry horses; severe frost then set in, when the rough and rugged surface was suddenly hardened into ice. Meantime my shoes were worn out, and as they would no longer hold together, I was compelled to march barefooted. This was severe, and the sensation produced was singularly painful. In the frozen condition of the ground every step seemed to place my feet on flint: scarcely able to move, and yet forbidden to stay, the sergeant of my company, a worthy fellow, proposed to lend me a pair of shoes, but his kindness was unavailing; on attempting to put them on, they would not fit my feet.