the French army, had been at
Logrona, on the day of the battle of Vittoria, and was now
endeavouring to pass into the Pyrenees by our right. We marched until
sun set, and halted for the night in a wood.

On the morning of the 27th we were again in motion, and passing
through a country abounding in fruits, and all manner of delightful
prospects; and through the handsome town of Tafalla, where we were
enthusiastically cheered by the beauteous occupants of the numerous
balconies overhanging the streets. We halted, for the night, in an
olive-grove, a short distance from Olite.

At daylight next morning we passed through the town of Olite, and
continued our route until we began to enter among the mountains, about
midday, when we halted two hours, to enable the men to cook, and again
resumed our march. Darkness overtook us, while struggling through a
narrow rugged road, which wound its way along the bank of the Arragon;
and we did not reach our destination, at Casada, until near midnight,
where, amid torrents of rain, and in the darkness of the night, we
could find nothing but ploughed fields on which to repose our weary
limbs, nor could we find a particle of fuel to illuminate the
cheerless scene.

Breathed there a man of soul so dead,
Who would not to himself have said,
This is--a confounded comfortless dwelling.

Dear Sir Walter,--pray excuse the _Casadians_, from your curse
entailed on home haters, for if any one of them ever succeeds in
getting beyond the mountain, by the road which I traversed, he ought
to be anathematized if ever he seek his home again.

We passed the whole of the next day in the same place. It was
discovered that Clausel had been walking blindly into the _lion's
den_, when the _alcalde_ of a neighbouring village had warned him of
his danger, and he was thereby enabled to avoid us, by turning off
towards Zaragossa. We heard that Lord Wellington had caused the
informer to be hanged. I hope he did, but I don't believe it.

On the 30th we began to retrace our steps to Pampeluna, in the course
of which we halted two nights at Sanguessa, a populous mountain town,
full of old rattle-trap houses, a good many of which we pulled down
for firewood, by way of making room for improvements.

I was taking advantage of this extra day's halt to communicate to my
friends the important events of the past fortnight, when I found
myself all at once wrapped into a bundle, with my tent-pole, and sent
rollin