The only _wholesale dealer_ in the plunder of the French military chest who essayed his talents at Vittoria, was a commissariat _officer_: he very coolly ordered one of his muleteers to load eight or nine mules with boxes of dubloons, and dispatched him with a letter of consignment to Lisbon; where, had the treasure arrived, the commissary’s fortune would have been made. But it was otherwise ordained; for the muleteer, in going back through Spain, boasted at a _posado_ that he had immense treasure in his charge. An Alcaldi was present drinking; and from the circumstances of the mules being without a military escort, yet admitted to contain specie, suspicion arose. He continued to drink with the muleteer, and the latter, in his careless cups, dropped the letter which the commissary had given him to deliver to his correspondent at Lisbon. The Alcaldi withdrew; opened the letter--and with the help of the curate of the village, who knew a little English, discovered that the treasure was not sent by any authority. In consequence of this, he seized the whole--mules, muleteer, and all. The result was, that the gold was sent back, and the commissary thought it right to run away, without waiting for farther enquiry. Thus ended _his_ speculation: but speculation at best is _only_ speculation--except in this case; for here it lost a _letter_, and therefore was clearly--_peculation_. The day after the battle, I, in company with another, rode out to view the ground where the armies had so recently contended. It was strewed with dead and wounded, accoutrements and arms; a great part of the latter broken. At those points where obstinate fighting took place, the ground was covered with bodies: a great number of wounded, both French, English, and Portuguese, lay along the road, groaning and craving water. The village of _Gamarra Mayor_ was shattered with heavy shot, and the bridge covered with dead, as well as its arches choked up with bodies and accoutrements. We returned by the main road, to where the centre of the army was engaged. Here were the French huts, and their broken provisions, half cooked, lying about; this was a level interspersed with little hillocks and brushwood: we were then surrounded with dead and wounded; several cars were employed in collecting the latter. A few straggling peasants could be seen at a distance, watching an opportunity for plunder--there was a dreadful silence over the scene. A poor Irishwoman ran up to one of the surgeons near us, and with tears in her eyes, asked where was the hospital of the 82nd regiment--I think it was the 82nd--she wrung her hands, and said that the men told her she would find her husband wounded; and she had travelled back for the purpose. The surgeon told her that the only hospital on the field was in a cottage, to which he pointed; but informed her that all the wounded would be conveyed to Vittoria. The half-frantic woman proceeded towards the cottage, over the bodies which