The artillery and baggage forded one hundred yards above the bridge, without difficulty; the water being only knee-deep at this season of the year. We encamped half a league from the town. In the afternoon I walked in to see the prisoners who had been taken by the English hussars on the previous day, all of whom bore a very martial appearance, and many of their countenances were so covered with hair, that it was difficult to distinguish their features: one man, in particular, had a long red beard which reached down to his middle; he wore a brass helmet, surmounted with tiger's skin, with a bunch of horse hair hanging down his back from the casque. One hundred of these French dragoons, who had not been wounded, were assembled to march to the rear. Their officer maintained a profound silence, and looked angry and highly indignant, with a large stick over his shoulder, stuck through the middle of a four-pound Spanish loaf. The whole of the captured, raw-boned horses, were huddled together in a court-yard, and bore evident marks of bad provender, escort duties, marches, and countermarches; and nearly the whole of them had the most horrible sore backs, almost frying in the sun, while innumerable flies settled on and irritated the poor animals. A number of English medical officers were busily employed dressing the wounds of the French cavalry; some of them were of a most shocking description, from sabre cuts on their heads and faces. A Frenchman, of enormous stature, lay extended with a dreadful thrust from a pike, which had been inflicted by a cruel Guerilla, some hours after he had surrendered himself a prisoner. A medical officer was on his knees trying to bleed him, and held his wrist, moving his arm gently, having made an incision in hopes of causing the blood to flow; but every effort to save his life was useless; the dying soldier nodded thanks to the doctor, and soon after expired. On the 4th, the whole army being concentrated[46], it moved in three columns, the centre in the direction of Palencia. The country was beautifully diversified, studded with castles of Moorish architecture, realizing the descriptions given in the chivalric days of Ferdinand and Isabella. The sun shone brilliantly, the sky was of heavenly blue, and clouds of dust marked the line of march of glittering columns. The joyous peasantry hailed our approach, and came dancing towards us, singing and beating time on their small tambourines; and, when we were passing through the principal street of Palencia, the nuns, from the upper windows of a convent, showered down rose-leaves on our dusty heads, and the inhabitants declared, by way of compliment, that the Oxford Blues were nearly as fine as the Spanish royal horse guards. Our division took up their ground close to the town, and on the exact spot where the French had bivouacked the same morning.