arsh clang of
trumpets and monotonous beat of drums; muleteers loading and unloading
their beasts; commissaries bustling about for rations; beplumed and
embroidered staff-officers galloping to and fro with orders; the clash
of arms and tramp of horses in the barrack-yards; the clatter of
wine-cups, joyous song, and merry tinkle of the guitar, from the
various wine-houses in which the light-hearted soldiery were snatching
a moment of enjoyment in the intervals of duty;--such were a few of
the sights and sounds which for the time animated and gave importance
to the usually quiet town of Logrono. Towards evening, the throng and
bustle within the town diminished, and were transferred to the
pleasant walks around it, and especially to the shady and
flower-bordered avenues of the alameda. Thither repaired the proud and
graceful beauties of Castile and Navarre, their raven locks but
partially veiled by the fascinating mantilla, their dark and lustrous
eyes flashing coquettish glances upon the gay officers who accompanied
or hovered around them. Every variety of uniform was there to be seen;
all was blaze, and glitter, and brilliancy; the smart trappings of
these fresh troops had not yet been tattered and tarnished amidst the
hardships of mountain warfare. The showy hussar, the elegant lancer,
the helmeted dragoon, aides-de-camp with their cocked-hats and blue
sashes, crossed and mingled in the crowd that filled the alameda, at
either end of which a band of music was playing the beautiful and
spirit-stirring national airs of Spain. On the one hand arose the
dingy masses of the houses of Logrono, speckled with the lights that
issued from their open casements, their outline distinctly defined
against the rapidly darkening sky; on the other side was a wide
extent of corn-field, intersected and varied by rows and clusters of
trees, amongst the branches of which, and over the waving surface of
the corn, innumerable fire-flies darted and sparkled. Here, a group of
soldiers and country girls danced a bolero to the music of a guitar
and tambourine; there, another party was collected round an Andalusian
ballad-singer, of whose patriotic ditties "_la Libertad_" and "_la
inocente Isabel_" were the usual themes. In a third place, a few
inveterate gamblers--as what Spanish soldiers are not?--had stretched
themselves upon the grass in a circle, and by the flickering light of
a broken lantern, or of a candle stuck in the earth, were playing a