The second day after leaving the army I reached Badajoz, and went over the defences of that city, which bore strongly the marks of recent strife. Not the least affecting evidence of mortal affray were the bodies of several of my gallant countrymen floating in the ditch, and which people were employed in removing in order to their being buried. The more I examined the works, the greater my astonishment at the bravery and perseverance of our troops. By one unacquainted with military tactics, time alone would have been pronounced capable of effecting the ruin before him. He could never have conceived it possible that walls so apparently impregnable would have yielded to the force of a besieging army. But for the escalade, indeed, failure had been inevitable where success was now complete, insured as it had been by immense sacrifice of life. My road from Badajoz lay through Olivença, where I crossed the river Guadiana to Xerumaha, and proceeded thence to Villa Vicosa and San Miguel de Mechada, where I fell in with some French prisoners marching, under a strong escort, to Lisbon. They had formed part of a division, under General Girard, when he was surprised and routed by the gallant Sir Rowland Hill near Miranda. The fifth day brought me to Evora, where, announcing to the inhabitants glad tidings of victory, I got an excellent billet at the house of a padre, who gave me the best dinner and bed I had had for some time. Evora, the capital of the Alemtejo, is a fine old town, and has still visible the remains of a Roman wall. Here, too, is the aqueduct, built by the General Sertorius, which is in tolerable repair after the lapse of so many ages. This place is fortified, and contains an episcopal palace. Time pressing, I set forward the next morning, my friend, the priest, having obtained an order from the Juis de Fori for a muleteer to attend me, and convey my baggage on a mule. The fellow turned rather sulky, so much so that I was obliged to drive him on with my pistol to Vendas Novas, where, after a hot ride of thirty-six miles, I had to sit up all night to guard my baggage and prevent the rascal running away, such I had been informed being his intention the moment I had gone to bed. The window of my room looking into the street, I told my friend that if he attempted to escape I would shoot him on the spot. This had the desired effect, and next morning I proceeded, still driving the Spaniard on before me, to that dirty place, Pegoeus, where, falling in with a party of English soldiers, I gave him in charge to them. The following day I arrived, after a ride of five hours, at Aldea Galega, where, dismissing my muleteer, who made many humble apologies for his behaviour, I embarked in the ferry-boat, and crossed over to Lisbon. The fellow, it appeared, was fearful of being again pressed at Aldea Galega into the service of the commissaries to carry stores or provisions to the army.