diers, ill of the plague, who were left in a convent (which
served for a hospital), and abandoned too confidently to the generosity
of the Turks, had been barbarously put to death.

A most intolerable thirst, the total want of water, an excessive heat,
and a fatiguing march over burning sand-hills, quite disheartened the
men, and made every generous sentiment give way to feelings of the
grossest selfishness and most shocking indifference. I saw officers, with
their limbs amputated, thrown off the litters, whose removal in that way
had been ordered, and who had themselves given money to recompense the
bearers. I saw the amputated, the wounded, the infected, or those only
suspected of infection, deserted and left to themselves. The march was
illumined by torches, lighted for the purpose of setting fire to the
little towns, villages, and hamlets which lay in the route, and the rich
crops with which the land was then covered. The whole country was in a
blaze. Those who were ordered to preside at this work of destruction
seemed eager to spread desolation on every side, as if they could thereby
avenge themselves for their reverses, and find in such dreadful havoc an
alleviation of their sufferings. We were constantly surrounded by
plunderers, incendiaries, and the dying, who, stretched on the sides of
the road, implored assistance in a feeble voice, saying, "I am not
infected--I am only wounded;" and to convince those whom they addressed,
they reopened their old wounds, or inflicted on themselves fresh ones.
Still nobody attended to them. "It is all over with him," was the
observation applied to the unfortunate beings in succession, while every
one pressed onward. The sun, which shone in an unclouded sky in all its
brightness, was often darkened by our conflagrations. On our right lay
the sea; on our left, and behind us, the desert made by ourselves; before
were the privations and sufferings which awaited us. Such was our true
situation.

We reached Tentoura on the 20th of May, when a most oppressive heat
prevailed, and produced general dejection. We had nothing to sleep on but
the parched and burning sand; on our right lay a hostile sea; our losses
in wounded and sick were already considerable since leaving Acre; and
there was nothing consolatory in the future. The truly afflicting
condition in which the remains of an army called triumphant were plunged,
produced, as might well be expected, a corresponding impression on the