Well-performed retreat of the French after the battle of Salamanca—Progress of the English troops—Description of the Spanish plains and towns—Custom of the _Siesta_—Movements of Joseph Bonaparte—Bivouac at Olmedo, and ball given there by Lord Wellington—Advance of the British army, and entry into Valladolid—A swimming adventure—Illness of the author, and his removal to the town of Cuellar—Timorous conduct of the Portuguese dragoons—The English army enters Madrid—Incidents attending the author's further removal as an invalid to Salamanca—General position of affairs on the Continent—Operations of Sir R. Hill—Re-capture of Valladolid—Unsuccessful siege of Burgos—Various movements of the forces. A great portion of the French army had marched more than twelve leagues[41] in thirty-six hours, (advancing and retreating from the field of battle,) and had also been engaged in hard-fighting six hours out of that time; therefore, until the night of the 23d, they had hardly made a halt for any considerable time during two days and a night, and I think I may venture to assert, that the rapidity of their movements, before and after the action, and their ultimate escape under Gen. Clausel from the very jaws of destruction, are equally astonishing. Early on the morning of the 24th of July, we passed Pena-Aranda, from whence the inhabitants sallied out, loaded with bread, wine, and liquors, and rent the air with their acclamations in praise of the glorious victory that we had won over the French; and even the little boys straddled out their legs and bent forward their heads in derision of the enemy's soldiers, to represent to us to what a state of distress and exhaustion they were reduced. As we passed onwards, numerous objects of commiseration, lying by the side of the road, reminded us of the miseries of war in all its horrors: many of the French soldiers lay dead, exposed to the scorching rays of the sun, which had so blistered their faces, and swelled their bodies, that they scarcely represented human forms, and looked more like some huge and horrible monsters, of gigantic dimensions, than any thing else. It is impossible to convey an adequate idea of such spectacles, or of the sensations they must have endured during their last agonies. These, now inanimate, objects had marched over sandy plains, without a tree to shelter them, while suffering from fatigue, sore feet, and want of water; then crowding into the battle, covered with dust, and under a scorching sun, they had received severe wounds, and were finally dragged, or carried on rudely-constructed bearers, from the scene of action, during excruciating torture, and ultimately left to perish by the side of the roads, or on stubble land, with their parched tongues cleaving to the roof of their mouths, and (to complete their miseries) before breathing their last sigh, to behold, with glazed and half-closed eyes, the