December 25.—­Christmas-day, and a memorable one to me.  Owing to the difficulty in hauling the cannon up the steep acclivities of the mountain, the main body of the battalion did not come up with us until twelve o’clock, and before we commenced the descent of the mountain a furious storm commenced, raging with a violence rarely surpassed.  The rain fell in torrents, and the wind blew almost with the force of a tornado.  This fierce strife of the elements continued without abatement the entire afternoon, and until two o’clock at night.  Driving our horses before us, we were compelled to slide down the steep and slippery rocks, or wade through deep gullies and ravines filled with mud and foaming torrents of water, that rushed downwards with such force as to carry along the loose rocks and tear up the trees and shrubbery by the roots.  Many of the horses falling into the ravines refused to make an effort to extricate themselves, and were swept downwards and drowned.  Others, bewildered by the fierceness and terrors of the storm, rushed or fell headlong over the steep precipices and were killed.  Others obstinately refused to proceed, but stood quaking with fear or shivering with cold, and many of these perished in the night from the severity of the storm.  The advance party did not reach the foot of the mountain and find a place to encamp until night—­and a night of more impenetrable and terrific darkness I never witnessed.  The ground upon which our camp was made, although sloping from the hills to a small stream, was so saturated with water that men as well as horses sunk deep at every step.  The rain fell in such quantities, that fires with great difficulty could be lighted, and most of them were immediately extinguished.

The officers and men belonging to the company having the cannon in charge laboured until nine or ten o’clock to bring them down the mountain, but they were finally compelled to leave them.  Much of the baggage also remained on the side of the mountain, with the pack-mules and horses conveying them, all efforts to force the animals down being fruitless.  The men continued to straggle into the camp until a late hour of the night;—­some crept under the shelving rocks and did not come in until the next morning.  We were so fortunate as to find our tent, and after much difficulty pitched it under an oak-tree.  All efforts to light a fire and keep it blazing proving abortive, we spread our blankets upon the ground and endeavoured to sleep, although we could feel the cold streams of water running through the tent and between and around our bodies.

In this condition we remained until about two o’clock in the morning, when the storm having abated I rose, and shaking from my garments the dripping water, after many unsuccessful efforts succeeded in kindling a fire.  Near our tent I found three soldiers who had reached camp at a late hour.  They were fast asleep on the ground, the water around them being two or three inches deep; but they had taken care to