I knew from my former campaigns, as well as the hint given by the doctor, that if the artery was not instantly tied, I must bleed to death. It was now about two in the morning, not a creature near me, my servant sleeping in the lower part of the house; to attempt to rise and leave my room to call assistance, such exertion would cause the blood to flow more copiously; to remain still, I must expect nothing but death in a few minutes. What was I to do?—placing my thumb firmly on the hole to stop the blood, while with the other hand I struck the table, and called lustily for assistance, but to no purpose, as no one heard me; my fate seemed inevitable if the hemorrhage continued. In this state of suspense I remained for some time; by degrees a film came over my sight; I felt the vital part of my system so low, and nature became so exhausted, that my head fell on the pillow, and all sense left me. How long I remained in this state I know not, but on coming round again, the morning dawn had just appeared, that gave sufficient light to enable me to see my situation. To my great joy the bleeding had ceased, except by drops. Still afraid to use exertion I remained quiet, the thumb still pressed on the wound; however, I did not remain long in this misery: hearing some one moving along the passage, I called out, when the old patrone made her appearance, and on seeing me covered with blood, rushed out screaming that the Captain had cut his throat, which aroused the whole house, among the rest my servant, whom I instantly sent for Dr. Greenwood. This gentleman, on examining the wound, observed a piece of cloth sticking out of the orifice, which he instantly drew out, and found it to be a piece of my green trowsers which the ball had left behind in passing through my knee. He begged me not to be alarmed, as it was one of the smaller arteries whence the quantity of blood had flowed. This trial gave me to understand that, although the soldier can cheerfully meet death in the field beside his comrades, he is a coward in the dark when alone. For their conduct on the 5th of May the men were honoured with pewter medals, in imitation of those of Waterloo. A despatch was also sent from Madrid, conferring the order of St. Ferdinand on those officers who had most distinguished themselves, amongst whom I was named as one. But the honour of the thing was almost lost in the indiscriminate manner in which it was distributed. Numbers procured the distinction without the least claim to either skill or courage, and caused a deal of dissatisfaction amongst the really deserving officers, as the following humorous facts will sufficiently show.