Twenty-five squadrons of cavalry, supported by a whole division of infantry, were seen to defile along the great road from Ciudad Rodrigo to Guenaldo.

Another column, equally numerous, marched straight upon Espeja; nothing could be more beautiful, nothing more martial, than their appearance: emerging from a close mountain gorge, they wound along the narrow road and appeared upon the bridge of the Aguada just as the morning sun was bursting forth, its bright beams tipping the polished cuirassiers and their glittering equipments, they shone in their panoply like the gay troop of some ancient tournament.

The lancers of Berg, distinguished by their scarlet dolmans and gorgeous trappings, were followed by the Cuirassiers of the Guard, who again were succeeded by the _chasseurs a cheval_, their bright steel helmets and light-blue uniforms, their floating plumes and dappled chargers, looking the very _beau ideal_ of light horsemen; behind, the dark masses of the infantry pressed forward and deployed into the plain; while, bringing up the rear, the rolling din, like distant thunder, announced the "dread artillery." On they came, the seemingly interminable line converging on to that one spot upon whose summit now we assembled a force of scarcely ten thousand bayonets.
While this brilliant panorama was passing before our eyes, we ourselves were not idle.

Orders had been sent to Picton to come up from the left with his division.

Alten's cavalry and a brigade of artillery were sent to the front, and every preparation which the nature of the ground admitted was made to resist the advance of the enemy.