of the kingdom of Leon: the forts of Salamanca fell before them in
June, and in July the battle of Salamanca crushed the French force in
that quarter, and opened the road to Madrid to the British, who,
driving thence the intrusive king, acquired the control of all central
Spain. But, at length, in October, the castle of Burgos defied their
utmost efforts, unaided by a siege-train. The French hosts from north,
south and east, abandoning rich provinces and strong fortresses they
had held for years, gathered around them in overwhelming numbers; and
slowly, reluctantly, and with many a stubborn halt, the English
general retraced his steps toward Portugal. The prostrated strength of
both armies put an end to the campaign. The French gave up the
pursuit, being too hungry to march further, or to fight any more; and
the discipline and appetites of the British soldiers were indicated,
on their march through the forests bordering the Huebra, by the
fusilade opened on the herds of swine, which were fattening on the
acorns there. For a moment their commander thought himself surprised,
and that the country, for miles around, was the scene of one
wide-spread skirmish with the foe. Even hanging a few of his men did
not put a stop to the disorder. Late in November the troops were
permitted to pause for rest, in the neighborhood of Ciudad Rodrigo,
with their energies prostrated and their discipline relaxed through
the sieges and battles, the continual marches, the exposure and the
want of a campaign so long and arduous as this. Strange it seemed to
them, after going so far, and doing and suffering so much, that they
should end the campaign where they had begun it. Yet they had done
much: wrenching the larger and richer half of Spain out of the grasp
of the French, and changing their possession of the country to a mere
invasion of it.

Such toils need long rest. Privations and sufferings like theirs