Of the bitter agony, the deep-seated affliction that now overwhelmed us, it would be in vain to speak. There are feelings in the human heart that can find no utterance in words, and which "lie too deep for tears:" and the conviction that the British army had been defeated--the dreadful uncertainty of its fate--and the heart-piercing sight of my brave, my unfortunate wounded countrymen returning from the lost battle in which their valour had been exerted, and their blood been shed in vain, awakened sensations which no visible emotion, no power of language could express; but which have left an impression on my mind that no lapse of time can efface. No private calamity, however great, that had befallen myself individually, could have afflicted me with such bitter anguish as I now suffered. The image of the British troops retreating before a conquering, an insulting, a merciless enemy--defeated, perhaps cut to pieces: the idea of their misfortunes and their sufferings--of the wounded abandoned to perish on the fatal field; the misery of thousands; the distress in which it would plunge my country; the years of war and bloodshed, and all the dreadful consequences it would bring upon the world, incessantly haunted my mind during this long night of misery. Overpowered by three days and nights of extreme fatigue, anxiety, and agitation, I fell at times into a sort of unquiet slumber; but my busy fancy still presented the horrid images of terror and distress, and repeatedly I started up from uneasy sleep to the dreadful consciousness of waking misery. Oh! it was a night of unspeakable horror-- "Nor when morning came Did the realities of light and day Bring aught of comfort: wheresoe'er we went The tidings of defeat had gone before; And leaving their defenceless homes, to seek What shelter walls and battlements might yield, Old men with feeble feet, and tottering babes, And widows with their infants in their arms Hurried along: nor royal festival, Nor sacred pageant--with like multitude E'er fill'd the public way:--all whom the sword Had spared--fled here!"--_Southey's Roderick._