Dear Parents—Your letter, bearing date 17th July, I received during the advance, and at a time when each day's march produced something amusing and interesting. I therefore delayed answering it until this period, wishing to say much in a small compass. I am now seated in a charming hut of my own forming, with a crystal mountain stream running at my feet, on every side tremendous mountains, whose lofty summits embrace the clouds, their sides covered with rich woods and fruit-trees; the valleys exuberantly luxurious, abounding with fruits, corn, and wine. Such delightful scenery I never before beheld. In such a place, if it were not for war—cruel war!—how happy the inhabitants might live. But, alas! those innocent dwellings are pillaged and the poor distressed owners fled with their families into the wild recesses in the mountains, in hopes of sheltering themselves from their savage pursuers. These bloodthirsty rascals often, when they cannot find the plunder they expect, set fire to the houses and burn whole villages. Such wrongs call out for vengeance, and ere long I hope the country that has caused so much _innocent_ blood to be spilt will feel in the bosom of her own the effects of war. I am sorry to hear of the death of my aunt. I had pleased myself with the hopes of seeing her again. How fleeting and delusive are all worldly views! * * * * * As the newspapers have given you accounts of our battles, I will describe some of the occurrences that took place. On the 21st of May we broke up from our cantonment and the Division assembled near Ciudad Rodrigo in high health, and upon the next day we commenced our march upon Salamanca. The French scampered off. Our Dragoons roughly handled some of them. We then marched upon Toro, on the river Douro. The enemy were here outwitted by our great Lord's superior generalship—outflanked and obliged to leave that position. Our Hussars came up with some cavalry and sliced and carved them genteelly. We were much astonished that we had already passed over so great a tract of country without once exchanging a shot. We now moved upon the river Ebro, passing through the most iron-bound country I had ever beheld, and as we crossed the river the band played the "Downfall of Paris," which made us laugh and afforded us some amusement.