We returned once more to Matuca, our old quarters. I could see the inhabitants did not regard us with the same eye as before we started; but it was unjust to look scornfully on our poor fellows, who would have fought if they had had proper men to command them. In the beginning of February the chief part of the Legion left Matuca, and, marching to the right, took up their position in a mountain town called Trevina, about four leagues from Vittoria. This town is surrounded by bleak and barren mountains, which the Carlists a short time previous had quitted. The crowded state in which we were in here, caused the men to die by sections. Besides two large hospitals, which were filled, the sick were at last compelled to be sent to Vittoria, guarded by strong detachments, as there were not sufficient places for their reception, and, to crown our misfortunes, during the greater part of our stay here, there was snow a foot deep. The men, although nearly barefoot, were constantly employed barricading the houses and streets in every part of the town, which a short time afterwards we left to the mercy of the enemy. The winter of 1835 was one of the severest known in Spain for the last half century, as if the elements also contended against the unfortunate Legion. Here we were shorter, both in money and rations, than at any other place since our arrival in the country. We remained about three weeks, and then retraced our steps to Vittoria; the men completely harassed by fortifying the place, that after all turned out to be of no use to us. CHAPTER XXIX. Return to Vittoria—The mortality and state of the hospitals—Deaths among the medical officers—Scenes in the wards—Legion supposed to be poisoned—Don José Elgoez—His first ordeal—A discovery—Execution of the two bakers—Description of the “Garotta”—Legion march and counter-marches—Mode of warfare adopted by General Evans—Frequent desertion. AT our return, the fever still continued to rage most fearfully, and Vittoria resembled a city infected with the plague. The scenes in the hospital were truly appalling. The wards were so crowded, that suffocation must have been inevitable, but for the inclement season; which had free access through the wards, from the entire want of window-sashes, and in many instances doors, most of which had been destroyed by the monks—the former and forcibly ejected occupants. But this prevention of one evil only gave rise to another equally calamitous; as scarcely a patient escaped being frost-bitten. There was also a total absence of bedding of any kind, or even bedstead, and many a poor fellow, in the height of fever, was forced to content himself with loose straw, and nothing to cover him but a great coat or a rug; hence the scenes in the wards became disgusting in the extreme.