May came at length, and we were obliged to leave our kind hosts. I never before felt regret at quitting a town in Spain. That morning we marched, the town was deserted by its inhabitants, who accompanied us a good way; girls weeping and running into the ranks to be protected from their parents, and hanging upon their old acquaintances; parents tearing away and scolding their children; soldiers and inhabitants singing or exchanging adieus. Almost every man had his handkerchief on the muzzle of his firelock. Don Galves’ children, weeping, took leave of me. I never saw them again. May God bless them! At length we were left to reflect upon our absent friends, and commence the toils of war afresh. We lay in camp until the whole army joined; then were reviewed by Lord Wellington, and received orders to take the line of march, and follow the enemy. We marched over a great part of Spain, quite across the country; many parts of which were very beautiful, more particularly that before we crossed the Ebro. But we were so harassed by fatigue, in our long marches, that we never left the camp; and were too weary to pay much attention to any thing that did not relieve our wants. We continued to advance until the 20th of June, when, reaching the neighbourhood of Vittoria, we encamped upon the face of a hill. Provisions were very scarce. We had not a bit of tobacco, and were smoking leaves and herbs. Colonel Cadogan rode away and got us half a pound of tobacco a man, which was most welcome. Next morning we got up as usual. The first piper played for parade; the second did not play at the usual time. We began to suspect all was not right. We remained thus until eleven o’clock, then received orders to fall in and follow the line of march. During our march we fell to one side, to allow a brigade, of guns to pass us at full speed. “Now,” said my comrades, “we will have work to do before night.” We crossed a river, and as we passed through a village, we saw, on the other side of the road, the French camp, and their fires still burning just as they had left them. Not a shot had been fired at this time. We observed a large Spanish column moving along the heights on our right. We halted and drew up in column. Orders were given to brush out our locks, oil them, and examine our flints; we being in the rear. These were soon followed by orders to open out from the centre, to allow the 71st to advance. Forward we moved up the hill. The firing was now very heavy. Our rear had not engaged before word came for the Doctor to assist Colonel Cadogan, who was wounded. Immediately we charged up the hill, the piper playing, “Hey Johnny Cope.” The French had possession of the top, but we soon forced them back, and drew up in column on the height; sending out four companies to our left to skirmish. The remainder moved on to the opposite height. As we advanced, driving them before us, a French officer, a pretty fellow, was pricking and forcing his men to stand.