We arrived at Aranjuez on the 13th of October, after an absence of four days; three of which were spent as agreeably as we could have wished, and in the full enjoyment of every variety afforded by a city well deserving a longer visit, and one which though it is less generally known, is more interesting in every point of view, than many that are more frequently resorted to.

On the 23rd of October the troops were again in full march, on the high road to Madrid, halting at various intermediate stations. We passed that city, on the 29th of the same month, and, tantalized as we were by our close proximity to its gates, we continued onward in the direction of the Pass of Guadarama, it being the object of our chief to follow hard upon the French army, (which was then bending northward, in rapid strides,) and allow them no rest, night or day, until we brought them to a decisive combat. Our road, as we approached the mountains, lay over a fertile country; the view on every side presenting a vast extent of arable and tillage land. Towards evening, after a long and painful journey, we halted at the Court-yard of the Escurial.

This famous palace, built by Philip the Second of Spain, is consecrated to St. Lawrence, and is formed after the pattern of a gridiron, upon which very useful culinary article the Saint is supposed to have undergone the operation of being broiled. The building stands on one of the heights at the base of the lofty chain of the Guadarama, and is a huge and spacious pile, enclosing four distinct court yards, the whole surrounded by an extensive range of buildings, allotted to the domestic establishment of the royal household. The grand entrance faces the mountain, the barren sides of which offer but a confined and uninteresting prospect. From the windows of the principal apartments, looking to the South, (which are said to be as numerous as the days in the year,) a view embracing all that fine extent of country round Madrid, and along the Manzanares, may, however, be enjoyed, which fully compensates for the dull uniformity on the other quarters. Some idea may be formed of the enormous amplitude of the structure, when it is considered that General Hill's division, including the Portuguese troops, were lodged within the walls, and found sufficient room in the galleries, court-yards, and outer-halls, without entering any of the private chambers. Our brigade marched up the great staircase, with ample space to move along in sections. It was a splendid cantonment, and worthy a better fate than that of being converted into a barrack and cooking place for a few thousand hungry soldiers.

The rooms, into which the officers obtained admittance, were spacious and lofty, those appropriated to the members of the court being ornamented and furnished in a costly manner. The lateness of our arrival, as well as the shortness of our stay, prevented our seeing the mausoleum; in which the royal family of Spain has been entombed for ages past. It is considered one of the greatest curiosities in Europe, and is beneath the grand chapel of the palace. The grand front has three separate entrances, and above the dome surmounting the central gate, the figure of St. Lawrence, together with the gridiron, stand upon a pedestal, and underneath are the Arms of Spain.

On the 1st of November we moved on towards the crest of the Guadarama, our route being along the summit of the hills, forming the lower branches of the Sierra, the ascent of which we took more than two hours to accomplish; many times on the way being obliged to halt, in order to gain breath for a further stretch. It was a work of considerable fatigue to both men and animals, and on arriving at the extreme point we were fairly exhausted by the effect of our morning's walk. Nature has here placed a formidable barrier between the provinces of Old and New Castile. This road, which is the only one across the mountain, is difficult of access, the rocks on either side being steep, rugged, and in some parts perpendicular, rising high above the causeway. Close to where we halted stands a pedestal of granite, on which is placed the figure of a lion crouched, holding between his paws two balls, intended, as denoted by the inscription underneath, to represent the provinces below. In the centre of the pedestal is inserted a square slab of marble, on which is inscribed, in large characters, "Fernando VII, Pater PatriÆ," followed by a long account of the cause for which the monument was erected, but in letters so small, and so much defaced, that it is a matter of some difficulty to decipher the mysterious tale.

Being again formed into something like marching order, we proceeded downward with a lively pace, leaving the plains of New Castile behind, and bidding a long and last farewell to that part of Spain, which had been for years gone by the theatre of our varied and ofttimes not very peaceful occupation. On our descent from the Sierra, we continued along the main road to Valladolid, and after having cantoned at several intermediate stages, arrived on the 8th at Alba de Tormes, a small town, one day's march from Salamanca, and commanding the passage of the Tormes, over which, at this place, there was a solid stone bridge.

We were soon actively employed getting all the old walls and defences into good condition, and, after waiting behind them for a few days, expecting an attack from a large body of the French army, (who had sent some round shot about our ears), we again crossed the river, taking care to destroy the bridges, the moment that the last of our men were over.

The enemy, who had threatened in so formidable a way, sheered off to his left, making for the road to Ciudad Rodrigo, in order to interrupt our progress in that line, with the view of eventually cutting off our communication with the frontiers of Portugal.

The whole of the British forces, meanwhile, passed on towards the Aripiles, those remarkable heights, where the great contest of Salamanca was fought in the preceding year. Here battle was again offered to the French, who declined the pleasure of our kind invitation, and wisely deeming prudence to be the better part of valour, continued their manoeuvres to impede our march on Portugal, and succeeded in getting possession of almost all the approaches in that direction.

On the 14th, our troops were rapidly pushed forward, in order to counteract their plans, and, by forced marches, we got the lead, the foremost columns being far advanced on the road to Rodrigo in the course of that day. It was a neck and neck concern, and nothing but the superior generalship of Lord Wellington could have brought us through the difficulty.

The rain poured down in torrents, as we entered the woods, through which the various routes penetrated, and the most inclement weather that ever was experienced set in on the commencement of this unfortunate march. Wind and hail in all their varieties beat unmercifully upon us, and the elements in fearful agitation combined to assail us on every side, while the roads, broken up by the violence of the storm, were rendered almost impassable, producing thereby the utmost delay in the transport of our supplies. To increase our sufferings, the personal baggage had been sent on some days in advance, so that we had no covering whatever but the garments that we wore, which were now waxing quite deplorable; and as for subsistence, our only resource was the miserable contents of a lank and scanty haversack, wherein were jumbled up together, in a sort of medley, the various remnants of ration leather, (falsely called beef), and mouldy biscuit, hard and jaw breaking, of which the maggots contended for a share.—It was enough to horrify the poor chop-fallen wanderer, who trudged along most dismally, cold, drenched, and woebegone.

Were I to relate but one tenth of the sufferings we endured, in what is known as the retreat of Salamanca, civilians would stare, and say that I dealt largely in the marvellous, or was drawing a long bow; but, start not, ye fireside and ye featherbed gentry, when I inform you, that many times have we arisen from our damp, and comfortless berth on the cold ground, with no prospect of a breakfast, but that which we derived from a meal of acorns, and often have we munched at these in lieu of more savoury food; chewing (by way of dessert), the bitter cud of disappointment and vexation.

At the termination of each day's march, down came the branches of the forest, and loudly clashed the bill hook and the axe, to put in requisition materials for the long wished-for fire, to establish which was a labour of no trifling nature, for the timber, throughly saturated with rain, lay in smoking heaps, long after the light had been communicated, while we with haggard looks stood collected round the smouldering pile. The flames at length got up, all due advantage was taken of this blessing, and no sirloin was ever more industriously turned by the hand of anxious cook than were our precious bodies, both front and rear alternately, with the vain hope of getting dry, and some degree of heat wherewith to cheer our wearied bones.

In the midst of all our extremities there was still something to excite the mind; while camping out among the oak trees, numerous droves of wild pigs ran to and fro, as we invaded their dominions, and in their flight many were fired at and shot by the famished soldiers, who were ignorant, when committing the depredation, of its being a crime which would cause the displeasure of our Chief.—Some were performing the achievement of hunting down the grunters, while others displayed their skill in the culinary art, after the chase was over. The unfortunate swinish multitude afforded some delicate tit bits, and the greasy provender was bolted in solid pieces by the half-starved men.

Before we came to break in on their retirement, the poor animals were revelling in luxury on the acorns, by which they chiefly fed, but as our troops approached their haunts they set up a grand concert, resounding through the woods, the most audible tone of which was a firm thorough bass.

The hog is by no means the most despicable of the brute creation, for have we not had the learned pig, and the pig-faced lady, who thought it no disgrace to bear a likeness to the useful beast. We have moreover good reason to know that the quadruped has proved a subject of deep meditation to more than one biped. There was a certain wiseacre, who lived not quite a hundred miles from Chester, of ample paunch, and who not only loved his port, but his port loved him; for it shone in rosy blossoms on his well bronzed visage; in fact, his person bore no bad resemblance to a well filled bottle. He was a great admirer and disciple of Kitchener, Mrs. Glass, and others of the same stamp. Having one day a party at his house, he, by way of entertaining them, led them through his grounds, and, after that, to the various buildings for his cattle. "But now," says the happy man, as they approached the piggery, rubbing, at the same time, his hands with joy, "you will see something on which you may feast your eyes;" and, on giving the signal, a regiment of fat hogs were marched out of their quarters, and passed in review before the delighted guests. One of the gentlemen remarked what amazingly fine animals they were. "Yes," says their host, "I thought you would say so! I flatter myself," (here his eyes sparkled in triumph,) "there are not such prime ones in England; they ought to be so,—I feed them well,—I have made them my constant study all my life."

What an intellectual scholar! there was the feast of reason with a vengeance; fat pork, tusks, bristles and all. What a study!—O ye classics, ye national educationists, ye Broughamites,—hide your diminished heads! Here's a college course for ye; aye, and one that may be studied by John Bull with joy and pride; for, instead of wasting the midnight oil, he may consult his larder, and contemplate, with a rapturous sensation, the Essays of Bacon, and Hog's-tales, while poring over the whole range of his swinish library. But, enough! we must recommence our march.

The gentlemen with the blue coats not chusing to measure swords with us, we lingered not upon the road, but, moving on the Agueda, arrived at the village of Robledo on the 18th. Here we were comparatively in luxury for a season; the severity of our recent journey, added to the miseries of night exposure under such dreadful weather, rendered doubly welcome the comfort of a roof; and the kitchen fire of even an humble dwelling restored us once more from our torpid state to spirit and animation. To each of the officers was allotted a tolerably good sized cabin, furnished plentifully with straw, in which, to our dismay, we found a numerous tribe of nimble footed gentry, which have already been more than once mentioned.

We broke up from those cantonments, and, steering our course over a long mountainous ridge, we entered the town of Coria, on the 30th of November. This place is situated on a steep hill, at the base of which flows the small river Alagon, and is at no great distance from the Portuguese frontier. The country around is well planted with the olive and the vine, of the latter in particular there was then a great abundance, of the finest description, from which the most delicious wine is made.

In company with another officer, I was billetted on the house of an ancient widow, who was the most perfect shrew I ever beheld. It must have been a happy day for her unfortunate spouse, that witnessed his departure from the stormy vicinity of his termagant rib, to the more peaceful mansions of the defunct.

The heaviness of the weather, subsequent to our arrival, caused us to pass rather a dreary time, made still more sad by the death-like tolling of the cathedral bells, eternally sounding in our ears. The place is well stocked with a great variety of priests, monks, friars, and other ecclesiastics, forming a worshipful host, with ill-favoured countenances. Although their looks are meagre, their corpulent rotundity of shape proves that to mortify the body forms no part whatever of their doctrine, and that an abundance of fat things, together with a liberal supply of the vinous fluid, are by no means inconsistent with their holy calling. It is also said of them, that the worldly discussion of those affairs is much more frequently the subject of their meditation, than the comparatively irksome duty of either prayer or fasting. The best and most luscious wine, not only here, but in all parts of Spain, is denominated, in justice to the better taste of those divines, "Priests' wine," and is more highly valued than any other.

The Alcalde, the corporation, and the myrmidons pertaining thereto, were a mean-looking, ill-dressed set of fellows. The former is chosen annually from the middle classes; in some instances his worship has figured in the trade of pig-driver, butcher, or other employment of that nature.

We saw but few inhabitants of distinction here; the families of the poorer order were numerous, generally ill-looking, and badly clothed. The females, in particular, we remarked, as not being "cast in nature's finest mould;" in fact, to tell the honest truth, I must say, that we never beheld a more ugly and forbidding race of damsels. On this account, they were certainly right to hide themselves. Indeed, we seldom had an opportunity of gazing at their lovely persons; as, unless at those times when they tottered, (as they always seemed to do) to chapel, they remained chiefly within doors, enjoying the genial warmth of the brasseiro, in preference to exposing their delicate frames to the effect of the chilling blast. The usual mildness of the climate, as well as the summer heat, congenial to the Spanish fair, renders them more sensible of cold, and less capable of enduring the rudeness of December winds and frost. The transition from the close atmosphere of their dwellings to the bleak and humid air within their churches is often the means of imparting to the Senoras a pale and ghastly look, their dark and sallow aspect assuming a death-like tinge, which, combined with their usually spectral form, would indicate to the observer, that the wire drawn figures on the marble flags of the chapel were speedily to occupy a tenement of small dimensions beneath the stones upon which they knelt.

A short time subsequent to our arrival at Coria, Colonel Charles Stewart, of the 50th, died of fever, brought on by excessive fatigue, after an illness, of about ten days. His constitution was undermined, not only by the effect of past service in India, but by that in which he was engaged in Spain. The harassing marches we had undergone since we passed the Tormes overcame his already impaired health, and he may be literally said to have fallen a victim to his unwearied exertions on that retreat.

By all who could appreciate the value of high military feeling and strict discipline, Colonel Stewart was justly regretted. Zealous and well informed on every point of duty, he knew how to estimate those qualities in others, while he held a tight rein over the careless and inattentive. Such characters as composed the Belem26 Rangers he never could approve of, and at all times he set his face against a certain set of men, who were very fine fellows when strutting upon parade at home, but were so careful of their own dear persons, that they kept at a most respectful distance from the field when there was any rough work going forward.

The remains of Colonel Stewart were followed to the tomb by all the troops in the garrison, and were interred in the terrace of the grand Cathedral here.

Brigadier General Wilson, late Colonel of the 39th also died here, he was an old officer and deservedly regretted.