which had been converted into a prison: they undermined the wall, and escaped with their officers at their head. The peasantry guided them, and supplied them with food on their way, and they rejoined the army in a body on the thirteenth day after the battle. The official dispatch of the French general was, as usual, falsified for the public. Soult there asserted that, having gained the height, he was surprised to see so great a number of troops, and that he then first learned from a prisoner how Blake with 9000 Spaniards had effected a junction during the night. This discovery, he said, made him resolve not to pursue his victory, but content himself with keeping the position which had been taken from the enemy, and that position he[23] retained, ... the enemy, after the carnage which was made among them by Latour Maubourg and the Polish lancers, not having dared to attack him again. Few battles have ever given the contending powers so high an opinion of each other. The French exhibited the highest possible state of discipline that day: nothing could be more perfect than they were in all their movements; no general could have wished for more excellent instruments, and no soldiers were ever directed by more consummate skill. This was more than counterbalanced by the incomparable bravery of their opponents. The chief loss fell upon the Buffs and the 57th. The first of these regiments went into action with twenty-four officers and 750 rank and file; ... there only remained five officers and thirty-four men to draw rations on the following day. Within the little space where the stress of the battle lay, not less than 7000 men were found lying on the ground, literally reddening the rivulets with blood. Our dead lay in ranks as they had fought, and every wound was in front. A captain of the 57th, who was severely wounded, directed his men to lay him on the ground at the head of his company, and thus continued to give his orders. Marshal Beresford saved his life by his dexterity and personal strength: as he was encouraging his troops after the charge of the Polish lancers, one of these men attacked him; avoiding the thrust, he seized him by the throat, and threw him off his horse; the lancer recovered from his fall to aim a second thrust, but at the moment was shot by one of the general’s orderlies. Sir William Meyers, leading on that brigade which recovered the fortune of the field, exclaimed it would be a glorious day for the fusileers. In ascending the ground his horse was wounded; another was brought, which he had hardly mounted, when a ball struck him under the hip, and passed upward obliquely through the intestines. He did not fall, and attempted to proceed; but this was impossible, and when he was carried off the field he seemed to forget his own sufferings in exultation at beholding the conduct of his brave companions. A heavy rain was falling; there was no shelter near, and Valverde, whither it was thought proper to convey him, was ten