Between these opposing forces was a hatred far deadlier than the usual animosity of war. The Christinos and Carlists thirsted for each other's blood, with all the fierce ardour of civil strife, animated by the memory of years of mutual insult, cruelty, and wrong. Brother against brother--father against son--best friend turned to bitterest foe--priests against their flocks--kindred against kindred. "For God and for the King,"--"For Liberty and Spain." But to our foes, we of the British Legion were the most odious of all; strangers, mercenaries, heretics, scoffers, polluters of their sacred soil; so did they term us. For us there was no quarter; in the heat of battle, or by cold judicial form, it was all the same: to fall into their hands was certainly a tortured death. Their king had issued the bloody mandate; they were its ready executioners. At different times, and under different circumstances, many of our men had fallen alive into their hands, but the doom of these unfortunates was always the same. About a week since, five Scottish soldiers, while cutting wood, unarmed, in a grove close by our lines, were suddenly seized, bound, and carried away to Hernani, the nearest town; they were tied to stakes in the great square, and shot to death, slowly, with many wounds, commencing at the feet, and gradually rising higher, till a kind bullet struck some vital spot. One of these victims was a brawny giant with a huge black bushy beard; I recollect him well, it was said he had been the Glasgow hangman. Our men swore frightful vengeance; a black flag--unsanctioned by the authorities--waved over Alza fort; and as orders were given by the generals for the safety of the enemies who might be taken, it was agreed among the soldiers that there should be _no prisoners_. Some shots from the English artillery on Alza heights began the battle; as the smoke curled up in white wreaths through the pure morning air, the deadly missiles fell lazily into the Carlist breastworks, and burst with destructive accuracy. At the same time, the Irish brigade of the Legion crossed the valley between us and the enemy at a rapid pace--for a time hidden in the mists of the low grounds--but as they neared the hostile parapets they re-appeared, ascending the sloping hill, then their pace increased to a run, and at last they broke, and rushed like a flock of wolves upon the foe. The Carlists waited till the assailants were close at hand, fired one sharp rattling volley into their leading files, and, abandoning the position, fled rapidly down the opposite side of the hill. An English brigade, consisting of the rifles and two London regiments, had at the same time attacked the intrenchments on our right, threatening to cut off a retreat should an effort be made to hold them against the front attack. My duties lay with this portion of the army.