In vain we searched each thicket by the wayside for some straggling soldier, some wounded or wearied man; nothing of the kind was to be seen.
Except the deeply-rutted road, torn by the heavy wheels of the artillery, and the white ashes of a wood fire, nothing marked their progress.
Our journey was a lonely one.

Not a man was to be met with.

The houses stood untenanted; the doors lay open; no smoke wreathed from their deserted hearths.

The peasantry had taken to the mountains; and although the plains were yellow with the ripe harvest, and the peaches hung temptingly upon the trees, all was deserted and forsaken.

I had often seen the blackened walls and broken rafters, the traces of the wild revenge and reckless pillage of a retiring army.