"The whole army is now encamped in an immense vineyard--as far as the eye can reach, and the river between us and Mr Frenchman. Our people chat across, while going for water or washing. War is a strange business, and I am most heartily tired of the novelty. Hill's army has quitted the Tagus, and is moving upon us. The game, I think, is pretty well up. It is labour in vain, while poor John Bull only suffers and bleeds, as you will see by those who caught the bubble against the walls of Burgos. How lucky we are to get out of the digging business! So excellent a corps must always be in front, for the general safety of the whole. The unfortunate country people are being driven to desperation; what between friend and foe, their situation is deplorable; everything is taken from them, either by force or on requisition. The scenes of warfare are too shocking to witness. Sick and wounded men, in want of every comfort, add to the horrors which words cannot describe. But one must not reflect. Some French wag wrote up upon a wall: _un bon soldat faut avoir la force d'un cheval, le cœur d'un lion, l'appétit d'un souris, l'humanité d'un bête_--a true bill enough, and expressive of the Peninsular and Favourite War. The army must have repose; it is naked, jaded, and done up. If the lord gets hold of this, I shall certainly be hanged. You shall hear soon of further operations and all agreeables." Officers writing from the seat of war seldom told the whole bare tale; possibly they had the feeling that their letters were overhauled in transit, or they may have been disinclined to mention incidents which their friends at home, knowing nothing of war or of human weakness under trying circumstances, would regard as outrages. But these things left unsaid came out afterwards, and what Major Rice thought that his brother (to whom the above letter was written) would not understand was the extraordinary incident which took place at the very commencement of the retreat from Burgos. Arriving late in camp, after a heavy day of marching, near the town of Duenas, between Burgos and Valladolid, the men heard that the wine-vaults were full of the recent vintage, and with one accord they broke loose and sacked the vaults. "Some of them were found dead, literally drowned in wine, it having overflowed in the cellars and suffocated the poor wretches who were too drunk to escape. Next morning, at daybreak, when we stood to our arms to recommence the march, the scene was one, perhaps, without parallel in the annals of military history; for I scarcely exaggerate when I say that, with the exception of the officers, the whole army was drunk." Thus wrote Ensign Mainwaring of the 51st, and Napier bears him out in saying that at one time "twelve thousand men were in a state of helpless inebriety." Fortunately the rearguard was well away from the neighbourhood of the wine, though, as the historian points out, there was at the moment little