I was not a little delighted at the anticipated change of scene, and looked anxiously for the time of my departure. San Sebastian, at one time so welcome to me, from pride and military reminiscences, had now sunk into the medley of strange and indescribable events I had so lately partook in. I was on the point of leaving—perhaps for ever—a Legion from which I had expected so much, but now, alas! nothing. Truly, with Hamlet, I might have exclaimed— Take it for all in all, I ne’er shall look upon its like again. Nor did I ever wish it—so much abused, badly used, and worse officered. After getting my little necessaries packed, and on board, accompanied by my servant, I embarked for Santander. I must leave it to the reader to imagine my feelings when on the deck of the ‘James Watt’ steamer, as it weighed anchor, and carefully made head out of the harbour. Little did I anticipate how great a change was to be presented before me: the horrors of Vittoria sank into insignificance before those of the convent to which I was on my way. In the course of thirty-six hours we reached our destination, over a distance of about one hundred miles. I landed immediately, and proceeded to report myself to the Commandant, Colonel Arbuthnot’s quarters, from whom I received orders to go instantly and take charge of the convent of Carbon. The convent of Carbon is situated at the extremity of a bleak morass, about four miles from Santander, and presents one of the most gloomy aspects imaginable. It is a large square building, enclosing an extensive court and colonnade, and has much the appearance of what it really now was—a great gaol. The ground around it is almost impassable for a dry foot, particularly in damp weather. Napoleon, during his stay in the neighbourhood, made it once his resting-place for a night, and reviewed his army on some of the adjacent grounds. The monks who had then, and up till very lately occupied it, were scattered about in the neighbouring hamlets, and were depending on small pensions granted them for their losses by the Spanish Government, and on the charity of the peasantry. The convent had long been a depôt for the auxiliaries, and a sort of magazine for stores, ammunition, &c. The Commandant was generally some field-officer, whose power was almost despotic, and particularly secure from complaint, as Colonel Arbuthnot seldom if ever visited it.