As the battalion to which I belonged returned from the pursuit, we passed, in our way to the camp, over the field of the dead. It was too much for my feelings. I was obliged to turn aside my head from the horrid sight. The birds of prey seemed to contend with those who were burying the slain, for the possession of the bodies. Horrid sight! Men who, in the morning, exulting trode forth in strength; whose minds, only fettered by their bodies, seemed to feel restraint, now lay shockingly mangled, and a prey to animals--and I had been an assistant in this work of death! I almost wished I had been a victim. Until the 2nd of November, my fatigue was great: constructing batteries and other works, we were forced to labour night and day. My hands, when I left home, were white and soft; now they were excoriated and brown, and, where they were unbroken, as hard as horn. Often overpowered by fatigue, sleep has sealed my eyes;--I have awoke groaning with thirst, and the intense heat of my hands. It was then I felt, in all its horror, the folly of my former conduct. Bitter was the sigh that acknowledged my punishment was just. In the storming of Monte Video, I had no share. We remained with the camp to protect the rear. While we lay before the town, the shells of the enemy were falling often near where I stood; one, in particular, seemed as if it would fall at our feet. A young officer ran backwards and forwards, as if he would hide himself; an old soldier said to him, with all the gravity of a Turk, “You need not hide, Sir; if there is any thing there for you, it will find you out.” The young man looked confused, stood to his duty, and I never saw him appear uneasy again,--so soon was he converted to the warrior’s doctrine. We marched into Monte Video the day after the assault, where I remained seven months. It is a most delightful country, were it not so hot. The evening is the only tolerable time of the day. The sea-breeze sets in about eight or nine o’clock in the morning, which mitigates the heat a good deal; yet I suffered much. It was now the middle of December. Summer had commenced with all its sweets, on a scale I had no conception of; neither can I convey any idea of it in words. We had the greatest abundance of every article of food, and, as the summer advanced, the choicest fruit, indeed even more than we could consume, and at length we loathed it. I had been along with the other youths appointed to Sir Samuel Auchmuty’s guard, as the least fatiguing duty. I would have been comparatively happy, had I known my parents were well, and had pardoned me: the uncertainty of this, and reflections on my past conduct, kept me in a state of continual gloom.