After passing through a variety of towns and villages, the troops of Sir Rowland Hill, on the 29th of September, beheld before them the famous and venerable city of Toledo—of old the populous and wealthy capital of Spain, once so celebrated for its magnificence and glory, of which, alas! so little now remains. The appearance of the dark city, illumined by the glow of the setting sun, which bathed in purple every thing that its rays fell upon, formed a new and agreeable object to the brigades, as they emerged in succession from the rich groves and cool vine-trellises that, bending under purple grapes, had for miles and miles overshadowed their line of march, and echoed to the music of the thirty regimental bands. A cheer arose from the advanced-guard when they came in sight of Toledo. Situated amidst the most delightful and romantic scenery, it crowns the summit of a rocky eminence, around which runs its girdle of walls and battlemented towers, circled on three sides by the Tagus, which, reflecting the hue of the sky, was now wandering like a river of blood among gloomy trees, sylvan ravines, and rocky places, adding greatly to the singular beauty of the surrounding country. The roofs of the houses, which are generally about five or six stories high, were seen shining in the sun above the serrated lines of the ramparts; and rearing high above all rose the enormous gothic tower and spire of the ancient cathedral, the red sky appearing between pinnacle and buttress, flying arch and traceried window, giving a peculiar appearance of lightness and richness to the huge dark mass. The opinion formed by the soldiers on first viewing Toledo was changed on entering it, and seeing the close, crooked, desolate, and filthy alleys which branch off in every direction. A very handsome street, where the cathedral stands, and which leads to the great square, is, or was, the principal one in the city, and was kept tolerably well paved and clean. But every thing which meets the eye announces decay, and attests that trade, commerce, wealth, and glory have departed from Toledo. The population, which once exceeded two hundred thousand souls, has now sunk to about one eighth of that number.