We marched on the morning of the 20th of May, 1812, and on the 21st entered our old quarters at Truxillo. The journey was fatiguing, but, as we returned by the main road, our sufferings were not by any means so great as they were on the former occasion.

Truxillo is large and populous, and appears from the remains of its ancient buildings, castles, churches, and walls, to have once been a place of considerable note, and one of the principal towns in this part of Spain. From the hill, on which it stands, there is a commanding view, even to the mountains of Miravete. The square is spacious and uniform, the houses built in the Moorish style, their upper compartments projecting, so as to form a range of handsome piazzas underneath, where all the most respectable shops are situated. The windows above, opening to the plaza, are furnished with handsomely ornamented verandas and balconies, in front of which are appended solid iron bars. The fair Senoras occasionally display their charms at those windows, during the cooler hours, decked out in holyday robes and gaiest attire, imparting a brilliancy of effect to their balconies which it would be impossible for the most costly works of art to rival.

On the South side of the Square, the attention of the stranger is attracted to the splendid fabric, erected by the celebrated Pizarro, to commemorate the successes of his victorious arms in the Western hemisphere. It is large and solid, and of such ample dimensions that a regiment of French soldiers found space to lodge therein. On the surface of the flat roof are several marble figures, designed, it is said, to represent the Peruvian princes and warriors who submitted to the Spanish chief, in his wars against their nation. They remain, however, monumental of the barbarous cruelties exercised towards a harmless people, by a merciless tyrant, who is to this day undeservedly held up to admiration in his native country.

The principal amusements of this place are the bull-fights. Soon after our arrival there was one of those performances took place in the Plaza de Torres, to celebrate our late exploits. It was a miserable attempt to represent those exhibitions as they were in former days. Two or three unfortunate bulls were driven, or rather tormented, into a circle formed in the Square; they were then goaded by a multitude of men and boys, until the animals became almost frantic; their tormentors, throwing up hats, caps, cloaks, and sticks, while hooting and yelling forth the most abominable noises. Although this afforded us but little sport, it was a means of collecting a large assemblage of spectators, from all parts of the town and country, and the houses around the Square were filled; the doors and balconies, as well as the roofs, being crowded with the delighted amateurs. Numerous fair damsels were among them, dressed out in gaudy colours, attended by their duennas, to witness the barbarous entertainment.

Amidst the cries, yells, and shouting of the peasants in the ring, one of the bulls, infuriated and lashed into rage, not only by his persecutors in human form, but also by some ferocious mastiffs, would occasionally make a desperate rush in upon the mob of ruffians, and violently running down a fellow more daring than the others, would toss him up with his horns several yards in the air, to the inexpressible delight and admiration of the surrounding audience, who expressed their savage joy in loud and deafening acclamations; clapping their hands, and waving handkerchiefs and fans, by way of approbation of the inhuman spectacle. At intervals, the peasants paired off in the fandango, or bolero, with some fair sweetheart, putting themselves through the most ridiculous antics, while accompanied by the music of an old cracked guitar, or broken-winded clarionet, performed on by some wretched artist.

Truxillo must have been in the days of yore a formidable place; rendered so, not only by its elevated site, but also by the nature of its defences, and a high wall, which in ancient times completely encompassed it, of which the gates alone remain. The country immediately around it is open, presenting but little appearance of any sort of verdure, but in the direction of Almaraz, there are thick and extensive forests, of oak and other trees.

On the 12th of June we marched to Fuentes del Maestro, where I got into capital quarters, at the house of Don Diego Dias, which, though it had been occupied by French Dragoons, the Don made tolerably habitable, furnishing a good bed, in an old barrack of a room. It had formerly been the residence of a nobleman, but the constant thoroughfare of the French had long since caused its owner to quit the country, leaving at the mercy of the plundering crew his property and his dwelling. The wreck and havoc which were made upon his furniture, and the interior of the mansion, fully justified the fears of its original possessor.

On the 1st of September, we again resumed our journey towards the interior; and, marching some hours before daylight, we arrived when it became clear, at La Hava. Our road, for the most part, lay over a country thinly planted with olive trees, but producing numerous fruitful vines. On approaching La Hava, the distant spires of Don Benito became discernible, and, on passing two leagues further, appeared the mountain of Marcella, upon the highest part of which stands the castle and village of Marcella. The former is an old fortified ruin, having a round tower in the centre, and the latter a poor miserable place, consisting of a few wretched hovels crowded together.

Like all the small towns, in this part of Spain, we found La Hava a collection of insignificant habitations, thrown into a group, without order or regularity, as if the place had suddenly dropped from the clouds; the chapel, as usual, in the centre, being the most prominent object in this confused assemblage of nondescript dwellings.

We entered Don Benito on the 4th of September, and, as we had been formerly quartered there, the inhabitants were kind and hospitable. In this instance, as well as in every other, when we had occasion to make the observation, the Spaniards proved themselves a generous and friendly people, evincing in every possible way, and by every mark of good-will, the pleasure they experienced not only in seeing strangers but on the return of those whom they had known before, and who had at other times enjoyed their hospitality. I was quartered at the house of Don Pedro Montenegro, a fat portly gentleman, who, with his family, exerted themselves to make my residence within their walls as agreeable as I could desire.

During our stay the ceremony of a Spanish wedding was performed in my quarters, which, though not affording much that was calculated to enliven the company assembled, was characteristic of the people, and their motives for entering into the holy state. Alonzo, the happy bridegroom, was a rosy cheeked comely boy of sixteen. His friends proposed him as a suitable match for Senora Maria Teresa, the daughter of my landlord, for the purpose of preventing his being liable to be called off to serve in the armies—married men being then exempt from the contributions required to fill up the ranks, all the youthful fellows in the neighbourhood espoused themselves in order to avoid the Junta's levies; so that many contracted an union at a very early age, or when mere children, for fear of the war.—Our hero did not appear to be much interested about the matter; young and simple, as he was, the passion of love was quite a stranger to his breast. His intended Maricita, a fine girl of eighteen, was however of no such temperament, for having arrived at years of discretion she was better educated in all those sort of things, and consequently made herself as engaging as possible in the eyes of her juvenile bridegroom.—They were seldom together before their marriage; courtship seemed to be laid aside as a superfluous piece of business, and the whole affair of matrimony, being previously settled by the wiseacres of their families, the poor devoted victims had nothing to do but just get on as they were commanded.

The friends and acquaintances, consisting of a bevy of old and young of both sexes, together with a moderate share of clerigos, being assembled, Alonzo made his entrÉe clothed in a capote, of materials warm enough to raise a flame within his frigid breast, if there was even an expiring ember there. His hair was tied up with ribbons, and a sash completed his attire. The fair bride, attended by her sister Catalina, soon came after, dressed in sable robes, that being the costume worn at all times on these occasions.

The reverend priest followed, and without delay began to make his preparations for riveting the chain, by reading out of a huge black book, by the light of a long wax taper. Having muttered for some minutes, in a hollow tone scarcely audible, he joined their hands, then poured forth his last benediction, and so this important ceremony was concluded. After the venerable Father had bestowed his blessing on the guests around, all immediately resumed their places, on low forms and chairs on either side of the room. The Patrona, together with her assistant deities, retired to an adjoining alcoba, where they commenced serving out refreshments, of all varieties, upon large plates: these were handed about by a couple of jolly, good-looking padres, who, as they offered them to the lovely senoritas, showed no small degree of gallantry, passing off compliments and soft words, highly acceptable to their willing ears.

Poor Alonzo, meanwhile, sat like Patience, and, though not smiling at grief, yet he looked very much as if he would rather be at home with his mother, than be brought to cut such a figure in the mummery. The bride, every now and then, modestly hid her face and blushes from the vulgar gaze, under a long black veil of the finest lace.

Chocolate and cakes were handed round, and the damsels pocketed the fragments, which they purloined without any remorse of conscience. About nine o'clock the company began to separate, and this most stupid of all stupid weddings was finished by a general salutation on all sides, and by Alonzo, amidst the smiles and winks of the envious spinsters, going off quietly to his father's, while his cara sposa remained at home in single blessedness, to dream of happiness yet to come.

While we remained at Don Benito, the natives vied with each other in their efforts to afford as much enjoyment as possible to their guests. Balls and other festivities were among the many sources by which they endeavoured to amuse us.

The assemblies were usually held in the spacious apartment of a large building, the residence of a marquis, and situated in the grand square. The fair and lively daughters of my host were regular attendants at the ball-room, and were escorted thither by a tall black looking man, who, in his official capacity of chaperon, on this and other occasions, took the damsels under his wing, and as he proceeded along collected a reinforcement of old and young; his party, by the time of their arrival, having accumulated to a motley crowd of votaries, including domestics and a train of followers: many of them under pretence of being brothers, friends or relations, intruded uninvited, pushing after the ladies without ceremony, to the no small annoyance of the respectable portion of the company. The women on those occasions make but few preparatory arrangements. After having merely plaited up the hair, or thrown a mantilla loosely across the neck and shoulders, and adorned the feet with a pair of white or yellow shoes, they sally forth in the same dress which they have worn during the day.

We departed from Don Benito on the 13th of September, and passing over the plains of Medellin, forded the Guadiana about a league above the bridge.

On the 14th we reached Villa Mercia. It was so very early when we got into the neighbourhood of this place, a place so wretched that we could scarcely get even a drop of water. The troops halted on the open ground some distance from the village. The vestige of a single plant or tree was not to be seen on any side, and the dry stubble-fields yielded us no means of obtaining the comfort of a fire. Our chances for a breakfast were therefore but slight. After marching for the greater part of a very cold night, we all looked blue enough at daybreak, eyeing wistfully the country round for something to build our hopes upon; but alas! the interminable waste was to us as much a desert as the barren sands of Africa. When the arms were piled the men threw off their packs, and seating themselves thereon, commenced a voyage of discovery in their haversacks, rummaging every hole and corner for sundry fragments, the residue of four days provender. The officers with hollow cheeks and cadaverous aspect, having gone to bed, (or rather to mach,) supperless, and being without the slightest chance of muffins or hot rolls, were ruminating on the evil day on which they went a soldiering. In the midst of this, some of the knowing hands, while prowling about the camp, for a few sticks wherewithal to boil a kettle, beheld an old, crazy and dismantled bullock-cart, (on the retired list) lying quietly on the field. As soon as the prize was seen, a general rush succeeded, and, like a pack of hounds pouncing on an unfortunate fox, they flew at the ill-fated remnant of the waggon, and without waiting to dissect, secundem artem, the subject before them, they tore it limb from limb, and the broken fragments were carried off in triumph by the ravenous crew.

Soon there arose a thin curling smoke in various quarters, awfully distant from each other, and those lucky favourites of fortune, who got a splinter of the aforesaid vehicle, were quickly gladdened by a flame; meanwhile, the tin, wherein the Congo was infused, hung dangling on a ramrod, suspended by two bayonets stuck cunningly in the earth. The poor wretch, with a visage of at least a span in length, who failed in his attempts to share in the spoil of the waggon, scraped up the stubble, which, damp with heavy dew, baffled all his labour, and he was at last obliged, with his culinary vessel in one hand, and his canister in the other, to wander from right to left, in order to beg a portion of some friendly blaze.

Renewing our march on the following day, we continued on the road until a late hour.—The face of the country, as far as the eye could reach, was an extended waste, devoid of any thing in the shape of tillage; the plain, wide and boundless, interspersed with scattered rocks, with occasional patches of heath and broom, was quite as wild as any lover of romance could wish. After some hours travelling over this dreary road, its sameness was at length relieved by a view of the Sierra de Santa-Cruz, the highest pinnacle of which rises in the form of a pyramid, and has a most remarkable-looking old castle, situated upon a lofty cliff near its western side.

The main road from Villa Mercia directed us, after many turnings, to the base of those heights. Among the rocks even to the highest peak, the sheep and goats were browsing, and at intervals we observed the shepherds with their dogs, in places where it would seem impossible that any human being could obtain a footing. In the grassy marshes below were large herds of oxen and other cattle grazing.—We had an opportunity of having a nearer view of these shepherds, who descended from the steep acclivities, and we were astonished beyond measure at their ferocious aspect and savage garb; one could not help comparing them, as they stood, with those of old, as described by ancient writers, when in simple dress, with crook and pipe, the rustics tending their flocks in Arcadian fields, charmed by soft and rural notes the lovely damsels of the woods and plains. The Spanish guardian of the flock, from his warlike costume, his dark and bearded visage, seemed better adapted for a ruffian robber of the forest, or the ranks of a Guerrilla Chief, than a gentle warbler of simple love songs. These peasants were cloathed with coarse materials; their inner garments were protected from the weather by pieces of sheep skin rudely joined, and they were armed with a dirk and an old fusil.

On the 29th of September we departed from Guerindote, our route leading over the spacious plain that extended to the Tagus. Upon the green borders of that river we at length arrived, and before us, in the midst of splendid scenery, lay the far-famed City of Toledo. The inhabitants, on first beholding our approach, assembled in multitudes on the road, near the outskirts, where we had already halted. They pressed on to welcome us, while with loud huzzas and shouting they rent the air. We entered by the principal gate, and marched up to the Plaza Mayor, amidst joyous salutations, and the ringing of innumerable bells. The balconies around were literally crammed with a brilliant show of beauty, waving flags, handkerchiefs and ribbons; their delight on seeing the English soldiers, was expressed with unaffected gladness, and could we judge by this display of feeling, we might have flattered ourselves with at least having the people of this city for our friends.

Toledo, from its situation on a semicircular chain of rugged heights, has a broken and irregular aspect; and, as the steep sides of the eminence descend precipitously to the Tagus, many of the buildings seem as it were impending over the banks of that river, which nearly surrounds the city walls. Across the stream are two solid bridges, each having one arch of considerable span, and of dimensions correspondent to the magnitude of the passage.

The brief period of our stay permitted not of any minute inspection of various objects, well deserving the traveller's notice. We could therefore take but a hasty survey; and in passing through the city, it was impossible to avoid admiring the beauty of many buildings, the names of which we knew not, nor had time to enquire.

Having proceeded down the Calle del Caromen, a long and handsome street, we found ourselves close to the grand cathedral, the finest perhaps in the kingdom. The utmost force of language could but faintly convey any idea of the magnificence of that building; the grandeur of which far exceeded any thing we had hitherto beheld in this country, and was worthy of being honored by a far more minute inspection than we had time to bestow on it. The roof is supported by lofty pillars and fluted columns of marble, and composition in imitation thereof. The floor is composed of the same stone, dark, and highly polished. Approaching towards the centre aisle, we encountered a ragged looking cicerone, who volunteered to conduct us to the vault within which lay in state the anatomy of St. Ursula, a lady whose memory is highly reverenced by the people of Spain. We descended by a narrow flight of stone steps, led on by the aforesaid genius, who, chuckling within himself at the idea of relieving the curious Ingleses of their loose cash, yet seeming wondrous grave, brought us in a few moments to the door of the sepulchre. The skeleton of her ladyship lay very comfortably in a glass case, and lest the venerable saint might feel rather solitary in this abode, a lamp was suspended from the vaulted roof of her bedchamber, to enliven her gloomy residence, as well as to enable the visitors to examine her crumbling bones.

Having rewarded the guide, we renewed our search for the numerous objects within this extraordinary and sacred pile, and while we were thus engaged we met the Secretary, who introduced us to his apartments, where we were much gratified by the sight of some rich and beautiful paintings, by which the walls were ornamented. Among the exhibitions of art, which hung within the court yard, those of the capture of Toledo, by the Spaniards from the Moors, and the grand procession of Charles the 4th were by far the finest in the Cathedral. They were all executed by that inimitable artist Francisco Bayue. Having seen every thing worthy of observation within, we passed through the main entrance, and commenced the ascent of a flight of steps leading to the belfry; at the top of which having safely landed we beheld the famous bell, said to be the largest in Europe. It is suspended from a massive beam, and its weight, as marked on the side, is 1543 arobas of 32? each. The height of the spire, as far as the belfry, is about two hundred feet, and we counted a hundred and ninety four steps, while climbing to this part of the tower.

The Senoras of Toledo are low in stature; but being possessed of as large a share of beauty as those of any other part of Spain, and full of animation, they are all that can be wished as far as personal charms are concerned. And, indeed, to do them every justice, I must say they received us with a warm and hearty kindness, that was long, yes, very long remembered. When they assemble on the passeo, they dress in every respect as they do for public worship, clothed in fine robes of the richest black silk or velvet, trimmed with lace, their persons decorated with various brilliant ornaments, and the hair tastefully braided up with combs of costly workmanship. A beautiful transparent veil, thrown gracefully over the figure, partially enfolds those charms it is intended to adorn.

Females of the lower class wear thick and substantial garments of black or brown cloth, of measurement so ample, that no opinion can be formed as to the dimensions of their shape. The men of rank generally dress in black, with chapeau, buckles, sword, and waistbelt. The working people and peasants wore the cloth jacket, botas, and montero cap, with a profusion of tassels and buttons. Instead of shoes they wear sandals, made of strong brown leather, laced round the foot and instep; these, together with the botas, (or leathern gaiters), shew to great advantage their round and well turned limbs.

We departed from Toledo on the 30th of September, at an early hour in the morning, very much regretting that we had so short a time to see every thing worthy of notice in that delightful place. Our route lay through a richly planted vale, watered by the Tagus, with whose rapid current we were in company for the whole of this day's march.

Towards evening the troops were encamped upon a most inviting spot; the ground upon which our alignment was taken up being the fresh and verdant banks of the river, and around our bivouac, on every side, were gardens and green plantations, filled with a great variety of shrubs and flowers in their Autumnal tints. With the soft leaves of these, (now thickly fallen), for a bed, we enjoyed that rest, after a toilsome journey, which "the weary traveller never seeks in vain."

In the forenoon of the 1st of October, the column was again on the main road leading to Aranjuez, and parallel with the course of the river. When we were within two leagues of our destined quarters, we entered a noble avenue of tall trees, their branches forming a long continued archway overhead, and protecting us from a scorching sun. The camino real was planted in double rows, in so direct a line, that the endless vista in perspective was, to our impatient optics, any thing but agreeable; and whatever little stock of patience remained within our keeping, was pretty well exhausted by the time we gained the end of our morning's tramp. At last, about 11 o'clock, we got into our cantonments; bugles, drums, and pipes rattling through the streets, enough, (at least in one sense,) to bring the very stones about our ears. Without any unnecessary delay, we were permitted to make ourselves perfectly at home, in mansions devoid of either comfort or means of entertainment; emblems they truly were of splendid misery. The ruthless hand of French campaigning had converted this once interesting place into a comparative wilderness; the habitations had not only been pillaged, but the furniture burned or destroyed, and every vestige of their former grandeur swept away, by the cruel ravages of this devastating warfare, leaving us to dispute with rats, and other vermin, for possession of their desolate abodes.

Aranjuez, which is seven leagues from Madrid, seven from Toledo, and nineteen from Segovia, has long been the residence of the Spanish Court; and, even in its fallen state, there is still sufficient to denote its past splendour. In spite of the ruin to which it has been exposed, it has the stamp of noble bearing, and, previous to the invasion, must have been one of the most beautiful towns in the Spanish dominions. The Royal Palace, on the banks of the Tagus, is worthy of being the residence of princes, and contains a number of costly and magnificent paintings.

The Queen's Palace, or the Casa de Labrador, the charming summer retreat of her Majesty, is fitted up with simplicity and elegance combined, and, being replete with every comfort and luxury suited for a Queen, it may well be termed a paradise in miniature. The walls are covered with richly embroidered tapestry, and the finest needlework, executed on silk and velvet, of exquisite workmanship.

Around the palaces and buildings for the nobility and members of the court, are numerous gardens, groves, and plantations, in the walks through which we rambled with much delight, as often as our duties might permit. The few inhabitants remaining here assembled on the promenade, to enjoy our military music, while a sprinkling of pretty blackeyed senoritas rendered the place more highly interesting.