Spain, of all countries, tends to produce in the mind the most romantic thoughts, from the salubrity of its climate, its diversified scenery, clear sky, and bright sun—a sun which shines throughout the summer from morning till night, so that to those who sleep under the canopy of heaven all days seem the same, and when summer closes and clouds darken the atmosphere, the preceding season appears to the imagination as one continued day. These and many other feelings are indelibly fixed on the mind of a soldier, who closes his eyes on the highest mountains, in the deepest vallies, in woods, in morasses, in dusty, parched, and arid plains, or amid orange groves, luxuriant gardens, and beneath the marble fountain; or amidst frost and snow—the inmate alike of the palace, or of the peasant's menial hut—one night reposing on a bed of down, enveloped by satin drapery, the next stretching his tired limbs on the ground, or on a miserable bed filled with vermin—one hour gazing on the sumptuous, light, flowing drapery and satin slipper of the graceful _señora_, the next on the ruddy healthy cheek of the more humble _muchacha_. All these opposite changes attend the soldiers' career in rapid succession. But lo! dinner is served up and announced. A truce to reflections! While we were employed handling our knives and forks, displaying a hungry dexterity, and bolting morsels of unchewable ration beef, a smoke was observed issuing from a valley, in the direction of our outposts, a mile to the front, which continued to increase, and then burst into a flame. A gentle wind blew towards our bivouac. The blaze increasing, and extending with great velocity, the cry of "fire," resounded from all quarters—"The camp's on fire." All was confusion; officers and soldiers seizing their baggage, ammunition, and horses. In the mean time, some tore large branches from the trees, and advanced to check the devouring element, the dried corn burning and whizzing towards us with the noise of a whirlwind; the heat was excessive; opposition was useless; the trees of the forest blazing away like a whisp of straw; and the whole brigade were _en déroute_, flying to save their lives, by reaching the road, where the second brigade had hastily formed, with boughs in their hands, as a last effort to endeavour to repel this vast conflagration. Fortunately the wood here ended, and the grass burnt itself out to the edge of the sandy road, which was one of great width, such as are frequently met with in the open parts of Spain. Had I not been an eye-witness to so quick and extensive a devastation made in a short time, I could hardly have pictured to my mind such a grand and awful spectacle.