a nightingale concealed in the leaves was pouring forth its plaintive
notes to the night air, and its low warble sounded like the dirge of the
departed. Far beyond, in the plain, the French watch-fires were burning,
and I could see from time to time the fatigue-parties moving in search of
their wounded. At this moment the clock of the convent struck eleven, and a
merry chime rang out, and was taken up by the echoes till it melted away in
the distance. Alas, where were those whose hearts were wont to feel cheered
at that happy peal; whose infancy it had gladdened; whose old age it has
hallowed? The fallen walls, the broken roof-trees, the ruin and desolation
on every side, told too plainly that they had passed away forever! The
smoking embers, the torn-up pathway, denoted the hard-fought struggle; and
as I passed along, I could see that every garden, where the cherry and the
apple-blossom were even still perfuming the air, had now its sepulchre.

"Halt, there!" cried a hoarse voice in front. "You cannot pass this
way,--the commander-in-chief's quarters."

I looked up and beheld a small but neat-looking cottage, which seemed to
have suffered less than the others around. Lights were shining brightly
from the windows, and I could even detect from time to time a figure
muffled up in a cloak passing to and fro across the window; while another,
seated at a table, was occupied in writing. I turned into a narrow path
which led into the little square of the village, and here, as I approached,
the hum and murmur of voices announced a bivouac party. Stopping to ask
what had been the result of the day, I learned that a tremendous attack
had been made by the French in column upon the village, which was at first
successful; but that afterwards the Seventy-first and Seventy-ninth,
marching down from the heights, had repulsed the enemy, and driven them
beyond the Dos Casas. Five hundred had fallen in that fierce encounter,
which was continued through every street and alley of the little hamlet.
The gallant Highlanders now occupied the battle-field; and hearing that the
cavalry brigade was some miles distant, I willingly accepted their offer to
share their bivouac, and passed the remainder of the night among them.

When day broke, our troops were under arms, but the enemy showed no
disposition to renew the attack. We could perceive, however, from the road
to the southward, by the long columns of dust, that reinforcements were
still arriv