ere marching
carelessly along the road, he and his dragoons galloped right into our
column, with a cloud of French ones at his heels. Luckily, the ground
was in our favour; and, dispersing our men among the broken rocks, on
both sides of the road, we sent them back somewhat faster than they
came on. They were, however, soon replaced by their infantry, with
whom we continued in an uninteresting skirmish all day. There was some
sharp firing, the whole of the afternoon, to our left; and we retired,
in the evening, to Soito.

This affair terminated the campaign of 1811, as the enemy retired the
same night, and we advanced next day to resume the blockade of
Rodrigo; and were suffered to remain quietly in cantonments until the
commencement of a new year.

In every interval between our active services, we indulged in all
manner of childish trick and amusement, with an avidity and delight of
which it is impossible to convey an adequate idea. We lived united, as
men always are who are daily staring death in the face on the same
side, and who, caring little about it, look upon each new day added to
their lives as one more to rejoice in.

We invited the villagers, every evening, to a dance at our quarters
alternately. A Spanish peasant girl has an address about her which I
have never met with in the same class of any other country; and she at
once enters into society with the ease and confidence of one who had
been accustomed to it all her life. We used to flourish away at the
bolero, fandango, and waltz, and wound up early in the evening with a
supper of roasted chestnuts.

Our village _belles_, as already stated, made themselves perfectly at
home in our society, and we, too, should have enjoyed theirs for a
season; but, when month after month, and year after year, continued to
roll along, without producing any change, we found that the cherry
cheek and sparkling eye of rustic beauty furnished but a very poor
apology for the illuminated portion of Nature's fairest works, and
ardently longed for an opportunity of once more feasting our eyes on a
_lady_.

In the month of December, we heard that the chief magistrate of
Rodrigo, with whom we were personally acquainted, had, with his
daughter and two other young ladies, taken shelter in Robledillo, a
little town in the Sierra de Gata, which, being within our range,
presented an attraction not to be resisted.

Half-a-dozen of us immediately resolved ourselves into a committee o