It is a task of more difficulty than may appear to the reader to describe the feelings that a separation, such as I have told of, caused in our breasts. More than half of our old companions—dear to us from the intimate terms upon which we had lived together, fought together, and, I might say, died together, for three years—were parted from us, most of them for ever!—the others gone to a distant part of the theatre of war, while we, enervated and worn down, either by loss of limb, or by loss of strength and vigour, were left to seek shelter under the roofs of those very people who had been so barbarously maltreated by our own soldiers. Nevertheless every one betook himself to the method he thought best suited to the occasion. Some caused themselves to be conveyed in waggons; others rode on horseback; and many, from a disinclination to bear the jolting of the carts, or the uneasy posture of sitting astride a horse, hobbled on towards the dismantled walls of the fortress. As we continued our walk, we met, at almost every step, heaps of newly turned-up earth, beneath which lay the bodies of some of our companions; and a little farther in advance was the olive-tree, at the foot of which so many officers of the 3rd Division had been buried. At length we reached the ravelin of San Roque. The Talavera gate was opened for our admission; it was guarded by a few ill-looking, ill-fed, and ill-appointed Spanish soldiers. As we entered, each man we passed saluted us with respect; but the contrast between these men, who were now our protectors, and the soldiers we had but a short time before commanded, was great indeed; and the circumstance, trifling as it may appear, affected us proportionally. We walked on towards our wretched billets, and as we passed through the streets that led to them, we saw nothing but the terrible traces of what had taken place. Piles of dismantled furniture lay scattered here and there; houses, disfigured by our batteries, in a ruined state; the streets unoccupied except by vagabonds of the lowest grade, who prowled about in search of plunder; while at the windows of some houses were to be seen a few females in disordered dresses; but their appearance was of that caste that served rather to increase the gloom which overhung the city. Nevertheless, as the wounded men and officers passed, they waved their handkerchiefs and saluted us with a _viva_; but it was pitiable to witness the wretched state to which the unfortunate inhabitants had been reduced.