THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 RIVERSIDE 
 
 Ex Libris 
 C. K. OGDEN
 
 4 

 
 THE LIFE 
 
 ARTHUR DUKE OF WELLINGTON 
 
 G. R. GLEIG, M.A.,F.R.G.S. 
 
 ETC., ETC., 
 CHAPLAIN-GENERAL TO THE FORCES, AND PREBENDARY OF ST PAUL'S 
 
 THE PEOPLE'S EDITION 
 
 He was a man, take him for all in all, 
 We shall not look upon his like again 
 
 LONDON 
 LONGMANS, GREEN, READER, AND DYER 
 
 1865
 
 OflloB.I'Z. 
 
 I8h' 
 
 b 
 
 JOHN CHILDS AND SON, PRINTEBS.
 
 ADYEETISEMENT. 
 
 In this revised edition of the Life of the Duke of "Wel- 
 lington, I have kept two objects steadily in view : first, to 
 paint the Duke himself exactly as he was ; and next, to meet 
 the possible wishes of readers, and they are not few, to 
 whom the minute details of military and political operations 
 are not very attractive. 
 
 To describe the career of the foremost Greneral of his 
 age, without telling how he carried on war and achieved 
 ^ great successes, is indeed impossible. And as little pos- 
 ^ sible would it be to speak of a statesman and a politician, 
 O^ leaving unnoticed the stream of public affairs, the course of 
 which he contributed to guide, or by which he was carried 
 :; along. But writing as I now do for others than professional 
 ^ soldiers and statesmen, my endeavour has been so to handle 
 ^^^hese points of history, as that as little as possible they shall 
 ^ staud between my readers and the true subject of my narra- 
 Q five, the Duke himself. It seems to me, having now aecom- 
 \C) plished my task, that neither the continuity of the narrative, 
 \ nor its value as a record of great public events, is damaged 
 \S by the process. And I am willing to believe that on 
 (\^ others the same impression will be produced. But how- 
 ever this may be, one thing is certain, that by following no
 
 iv ADVERTISEMENT 
 
 other coiirse could I hope to achieve the ends which I had 
 set before me : namely, while lightening my story, to pro- 
 duce a portrait of my hero, such as shall do full justice to his 
 great qualities, Avithout seeking to hide or to explain away 
 the weaknesses which he shared in common with his fellow- 
 men. 
 
 It will be seen that in following up these designs, I have 
 made freer use than I formerly ventured to do of sources 
 of private information that were open to me. Of the Duke's 
 remarks upon men and things, many, which were originally 
 given in substance only, are here set down as he de- 
 livered them. Some of the peculiarities in his strongly- 
 marked character are now for the first time brought forward ; 
 and stories are told, which on former occasions might have 
 fitted in but indifterezitly with graver matters then under 
 discussion. I am confident that neither the most sensitive 
 of the Duke's personal friends, nor the bitterest of his 
 political enemies (if any such still survive), will see the 
 smallest reason to be dissatisfied or ofiended at this change 
 of plan. On the other hand, it appears to me that multi- 
 tudes whom the record of his glory^ in wars and political 
 contests long passed away, might repel, will be attracted by 
 the new arrangement to their own great gain. "Wherefore 
 " the People's Edition" of the Life of the Duke passes out 
 of my hands without any misgivings or hesitation on my 
 part; first, because I persuade myself that "the people" 
 will certainly read it ; and, next, because I feel that there 
 is not a man among them " so high, so low, so rich, so poor, 
 but that he will be benefited by the exercise, if it only 
 stimulate him to follow in all things, as the great Duke did 
 before him, the guiding star of duty through life."
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAP. PAGE 
 
 I. HIS PEDIGREE AND EARLY LIFE . . . . - 1 
 
 II. AT HOME — IN INDIA — FALL OF SERIN GAPATAM . . 14 
 
 ni. CAMPAIGN AGAINST DHOONDIAH — IN CEYLON— THE MAH- 
 
 RATTA WAR — RETURNS TO ENGLAND 26 
 
 IV. IN COMMAND AT HASTINGS — CHIEF SECRETARY FOR IRE- 
 LAND — EXPEDITION TO COPENHAGEN . . . . 44 
 
 V. RETURN TO CIVIL EMPLOYMENT — BEGINNING OF THE PENIN- 
 SULAR WAR. 61 
 
 VI. ROLI9A AND VIMEIRO — RETURNS HOME 72 
 
 VII. IN LONDON — IN DUBLIN — IN COMMAND OF A NEW ARMY . . 80 
 
 VIII. IN PORTUGAL . . . . . . . . . ^M 
 
 IX. MOVES TOWARDS CUESTA — BATTLE OF TALAVERA . . 96 
 
 X. MOVES AGAINST SOULT — ACROSS THE TAGUS — IN LISBON — 
 
 IN CADIZ — ACROSS THE TAGUS AGAIN 104 
 
 XI. OPENING OF THE CAMPAIGN — FALL OF CIUDAD RODRIGO 
 AND ALMEIDA— BATTLE OF BUSACO, RETREAT TO THE 
 
 LINES 112
 
 •i CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAP. PAGE 
 
 XII. LINES OF TORRES VEDRAS .. .. .. ..123 
 
 XIII. MASSENA'S retreat — FUENTES D'HONORE 129 
 
 XIY. MARilONT SUCCEEDS MASSENA — LORD WELLINGTON FAILS 
 TO TAKE BADAJOZ — HE TAKES CIUDAD-RODRIGO — IN- 
 VESTS BADAJOZ AG/VIN 141 
 
 XV. SIEGE AND ASSAULT OF BADAJOZ — LORD WELLINGTON 
 
 DURING THE ASSAULT 150 
 
 XVI. PREPARATIONS FOR THE CAMPAIGN OF 1812 . . 157 
 
 XVII. OPENING OF THE CAMPAIGN — SALAMANCA TAKEN — BATTLE 
 
 OF S.ALAMANCA 166 
 
 XVIII. LORD WELLINGTON IN MADRID— SIEGE OF BURGOS— RE- 
 
 TRK\T TO THE PORTUGUESE FRONTIER . . . . 1/3 
 
 XIX. WINTER QUARTERS — OPENING OF THE C.A:\IPAIGN OF 1813 
 
 —BATTLE OF VITTORIA 184 
 
 XX. SIEGE OF SAN SEBASTIAN — BATTLES OF THE PYRENEES . . 194 
 
 XXI. INVASION OF FRANCE — BATTLE OF THE NIVELLE . . . . 201 
 
 XXII. BATTLE OF THE NIVE— WINTER QUARTERS . . . . 209 
 
 XXIII. OPENING OF THE CAMPAIGN — BATTLE OF ORTHEZ . . 221 
 
 XXIV. ADVANCE TO TOULOUSE— BATTLE OF TOULOUSE — SORTIE 
 
 FROM BATONNE— CESSATION OF HOSTILITIES . . 229 
 
 XXV. THE DUKE IN PARIS — AT MADRID— IN ENGLAND— RE- 
 TURNS TO FRANCE 242 
 
 XX^^. CONGRESS OF VIENNA — RETURN OF NAPOLEON TO FRANCE 252 
 
 XXVII. DISPOSITIONS OF THE ALLIED ARMIES — BATTLES OF LIGNY 
 AND QUATRE-BRAS — RETREAT OF THE ENGLISH TO 
 WATERLOO — BATTLE OF W.\TERLOO — THE DUKE ON 
 THE FIELD . . 258 
 
 XXVIII. F.\LL OF PARIS — ARMY OF OCCUP.\TION — ATTEMPTS ON 
 
 THE duke's LIFE .. 271
 
 CONTENTS. vii 
 
 CHAP. PAGE 
 
 XXIX. TROUBLESOME TIJIES— CATO STREET — QUEEN CAROLINE 290 
 
 XXX. THE DUKE IN THE CABINET— AT VERONA . . . . 295 
 
 XXXI. LORD LIVERPOOL'S ADMINISTRATION 305 
 
 XXXII. THE DUKE AND MR STEPHENSON — THE DUKE AT ST 
 
 PETERSBURG 312 
 
 XXXIII. DEATH OF THE DUKE OF YORK — THE DUKE COM- 
 
 MANDER-IN-CHIEF — DE.\TH OF LORD LIVERPOOL — 
 
 INIR CANNING PRIME MINISTER 326 
 
 XXXIV. THE DUKE IN OPPOSITION — DEATH OF MR CANNING— 
 
 THE DUKE A POLITICAL LEADER — THE GOVERNMENT 
 
 — ITS DIFFICULTIES . . . . . . . . . . 334 
 
 SXXV. THE CATHOLIC QUESTION — DUEL WITH LORD WIN- 
 CHELSEA . . 344 
 
 XXXVI. DEATH OF GEORGE IV. — STATE OF PARTIES — REVOLU- 
 TION IN FRANCE — GENERAL ELECTION — DEATH OF 
 MR HUSKISSON — THE DUKE RESIGNS . . . . 350 
 
 XXXVII. THE REFORM BILL — DISSOLUTION OF PARLIAMENT — 
 THE duke's windows BROKEN — THE BILL THROWN 
 OUT IN THE LORDS — RIOTS IN LONDON — THE DUKE'S 
 
 life threatened at deal . . . . . . 358 
 
 xxxviii. the duke after the reform bill — ms great in- 
 FLUENCE in the house OF LORDS— LORD MEL- 
 BOURNE MINISTER — HIS DISMISSAL — SIR ROBERT 
 peel's government — THE DUKE CHANCELLOR OF 
 THE UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD 3/8 
 
 XXXIX. DEATH OF WILLIAM IV. — ACCESSION OF QUEEN VIC- 
 TORIA — THE DUKE IN AND OUT OF PARLIAJMENT — 
 THE duke's great AFFECTION FOR HER MAJESTY — 
 HIS PROCEEDINGS AS COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF . . 387 
 
 XL. BREAK UP OF SIR ROBERT PEEL'S GOVERNMENT — 
 
 CORRESPONDENCE WITH THE EARL OF DERBY . . 409
 
 viii COXTEXTS. 
 
 CHAP. PAGE 
 
 XLI. THE DUKE IX PRIVATE LIFE — HIS PECULIARITIES — HIS 
 FRIENDS— MR ARBUTHXOT— HIS HABITS — HIS ANXIETY 
 ON THE SUBJECT OF NATIONAL DEFENCES — HIS LAST 
 ILLNESS, DE.ATH, AND FUNERAL . . 423 
 
 XLII. THE DUKE AS A MAN, A SOLDIER, A STATESMAN — HIS PLAT- 
 FULNESS — HIS KINDLINESS — HIS SELF-POSSESSION — HIS 
 
 ■v^^sDOM . . 461
 
 THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 HIS PEDIGREE AND EARLY LIFE. 
 
 Arthur, first Duke of "Wellington, was the fourth son of 
 Garret, first Earl of Mornington, by the eldest daughter of 
 Arthur Hill, Viscount Dungannon. He derived his descent 
 from "Walter Colley, or Cowley, a Eutlandshire Esquire, who 
 settled in the county of Kilkenny, during the reign of 
 Henry VIII., and a descendant of whom, Eichard Colley, in 
 the beginning of the ISth century, took the name of Wesley 
 in consetjuence of his adoption by Garret "Wesley of AVest- 
 meath, who had married his aunt and made him his heir. 
 
 The first rather noticeable incident in the history of the 
 great Duke occurs, therefore, so to speak, previously to his 
 , birth. A Colley by right of lineage, he becomes a AVesleyby 
 adoption, a name which is subsequently changed to "Welles- 
 ley, though at what precise time, and for what special reason, 
 there is nothing on record to show. 
 
 Eichard Colley "^Vesley, after sitting for awhile in the 
 Irish House of Commons, w'as raised to the peerage, and 
 became Baron Mornington of the kingdom of Ireland. His 
 eldest son. Garret, succeeded him in the title and in his estates, 
 and was advanced in 1759 to the dignity of an Earldom. 
 
 1
 
 2 HIS TIME AND PLACE OF BIRTH. 
 
 But tins elevation in raulc brouglit witli i\; no addition to liis 
 fortunes, which, on the contrary, he appears to have consider- 
 ably redv\ced by electioneering and other extravagances. 
 Garret, first Earl of Mornington, distinguished himself as a 
 musician, and became the composer of many chants, anthems, 
 and glees, which have been much admired. It is said of 
 him also that he was a good deal addicted to political intrigue. 
 This may or may not have been the case, but if it were, one 
 thing is certain, that, so far as his own interest was concerned, 
 he intrigued to little purpose ; for he died in 1781, leaving 
 a widow with nine children, in what may fairly be described, 
 looking to their social position, as very straightened cir- 
 cumstances. 
 
 The next curious circumstance which we are called upon 
 to notice, in glancing over the career of the great Duke of 
 Wellington, is this, that both the time and the place of his 
 bii'th are hidden in obscurity. The register book of the 
 parish of St Peter in Dublin Avould make it appear that he 
 was baptized in that parish on the 30th of April, 1769. An 
 old Dublin newspaper states as a fact that he was born in 
 the Irish capital, on the 3rd of April, whereas the woman 
 who nursed his mother through her confinement, always 
 declared that his birth occurred on the 6th of March, at 
 Dangan Castle, in the county of Westmeath. This latter 
 assumption was formally taken up and afiirmed by a vote of 
 the Irish House of Commons ; yet what avail even votes of 
 Parliament when people are determined not to be con- 
 trolled by them ? The late Duke's mother persistently 
 asserted that her son Arthur was born on the 1st of May. 
 The Duke himself kept the 1st of May as his birthday ; but 
 neither mother nor son, as far as I have been able to disco- 
 ver, ever decided the question of place between Dublin and 
 Dangan. "\Ve are tlius tlu'own upon conjecture in reference 
 to points whicli, though not perhaps of much importance in 
 themselves, become important through their connection with 
 one who was destined in after life to fiU. so wide a page in 
 history. Nor must I forget, while upon this subject, to 
 point out th.at the same year brought into the world the 
 two most remarkable men of their age, whether as warriors
 
 AT SCHOOL IN CHELSEA. 3 
 
 or as politicians ; Napoleon Buonaparte, and Arthur, Duke 
 of "Wellington. 
 
 Pew tales, and none of them very important, are told 
 of the childhood and early youth of the latter of these 
 heroes. Childhood and early youth were stages in the 
 Duke's existence of which he seldom spoke ; and never 
 except ahruptly, and as it were by accident. But enough 
 escaped him from time to time to show that he did not look 
 back upon them with much pleasure. There is reason to 
 believe that, from some cause or another, he was not a favour- 
 ite with his mother till his great deeds in after life con- 
 strained her to be proud of him. She seems to have taken 
 it into her head that he was the dunce of the family, and to 
 have treated him, if not harshly, with marked neglect ; and 
 being herself a woman of great ability and strength of cha- 
 racter, she gave the law in this as in other respects to her 
 own household. "While the utmost pains were taken with 
 the education of his brothers, Arthur was sent, being very 
 young, to a preparatory school in Chelsea, where he learned 
 little, and to which the only references which he was ever 
 known to make were the reverse of flattering. "Where this 
 school stood, and who was at the head of it, would have 
 probably remained to the end of time unknown, had not the 
 publication of a former edition of this work attracted the 
 attention of a gentleman,/ whose father happened to be a 
 fellow-pupil of the great Duke at the school in question. 
 He kindly wrote to me on the subject, inclosing a communi- 
 cation from his father, from which I learn that the school 
 in question was kept by a Mr Brown, that it was not an 
 expensive establishment, and that " Lord "Wellesley called 
 upon Arthur Wesley one day, and gave him a shilling." A shil- 
 ling tip to a schoolboy betokens no superabundance of this 
 world's wealth in the donor, and the donor on the present 
 occasion was Arthur's elder brother. 
 
 Erom the Chelsea school, young "Wesley was transferred 
 to Eton, where he remained only long enough to make his 
 way into the remove. He was indifierently instructed when 
 he arrived, and he never by such diligence as the case 
 required succeeded in taking a good place among hia class- 
 
 1 *
 
 4 AT ETOX. 
 
 fellows. His habits, on the contrary, in school and oiit ot 
 school, are stated to have been those of a dreamy, idle, and 
 shy lad. The consequence was, that besides achieving no suc- 
 cess as a scholar, he contracted few special intimacies among 
 his contemporaries, and laid the foundation of no lasting 
 friendships. His was indeed a solitary life ; a life of solitude 
 in a crowd ; for he walked generally alone, often bathed 
 alone, and seldom took part either in the cricket matches 
 or the boat-races which were then, as they are now, in great 
 vogue among Etonians. As was to be expected, after he attain- 
 ed to eminence, attempts were occasionally made to connect 
 these habits with an imagination so busy in devising schemes 
 for the future as to leave the boy neither time nor inclina- 
 tion to live, like other boys, in the present. And in corro- 
 boration of this theory, a tradition still survives, that when 
 he took his sons to Eton he showed them a tree, amid the 
 branches of which he had laid out, as upon a map, the whole 
 of his own military career. But this is a mere romance 
 founded upon an entire misconception of the character of the 
 man. It is in direct contradiction likewise to the history 
 of his life, for we have good reason to believe that, had the 
 choice of a profession been left to him, he would not have 
 selected the army. It is therefore simply impossible that 
 visions of military glory could have filled his mind to the 
 exclusion of other and more pressing subjects, while as yet 
 the career which he might be called upon to run was uncer- 
 tain, and his own wishes pointed in a direction opposite to 
 that on which in due time he entered. 
 
 There seems some reason to believe that Arthur "Wesley, 
 though dreamy and reserved, was, as a boy, of rather a com- 
 bative disposition. He fought at least one battle at Eton, 
 and had for his opponent Eobert, better known as Bobus 
 Smith, the elder brother of the witty Canon of St Paul's. 
 It happened one day, that while Smith was bathing in the 
 Thames, young "Wesley passed by, and, child-like, threw a 
 small stone or clod at the swimmer. A threat to come 
 ashore and thrash him if the insult were repeated, led, as a 
 matter of course, to its repetition ; and Smith, being as good 
 as his word, scrambled up the bank and attacked the cul-
 
 IN BRUSSELS. 5 
 
 prit. The blov thus received was immediately retiu'ned, and 
 a sharp contest ensued, which ended after a few rounds in 
 favoTxr of him who on that occasion had certainly not the 
 right upon his side. But "Wesley did not always come off 
 victorious from such encounters. 
 
 He was in the habit of spending some of his holidays 
 v.'ith his maternal grandfather, Lord Dungannon, at Bryn- 
 kinalt, in North Wales. Here he managed to establish both 
 a friendship and a feud with a young blacksmith, from whom, 
 though not till both had suffered severe punishment, he 
 received on one occasion a sound thi-ashing. The victor in 
 that fight, whose name was Hughes, and who died in 1849, 
 at an advanced age, used to tell the story with extreme 
 glee. He was very proud of having beaten the man before 
 whom Napoleon and all his generals went down ; and never 
 forgot to end his narrative by observing " that Master 
 Wesley bore him not a pin's worth of ill-will for the beating, 
 but made him his companion in many a wild ramble after 
 the fight, just as he had done before." 
 
 On the death of her husband, Lady Mornington removed 
 to London, where she struggled for awhile to keep her place 
 in society, upon a jointure which was by no means equal to 
 the strain. The strain became however too great in the end, 
 and she withdrew her son Arthur from Eton, and carrying 
 him to Brussels, took up her abode, in 1784, at the house of 
 a French Avocat, named Goubert. There accompanied them 
 to Brussels a youth of about the same age with Arthur, 
 John Armytage by name, the second son of a rich York- 
 shire Baronet, between whom and Lord Mornington a 
 friendship had subsisted for many years. It Avas an arrange- 
 ment which, Avhether designedly or not, proved of mutual 
 advantage both to Lady Mornington and John Armytage ; 
 for the former received a handsome board with the son of 
 her husband^s friend, and the latter enjoyed the prestige of 
 Lady Mornington's protection. 
 
 Arthur Wesley and John Armytage thus brought toge- 
 ther, pursued their studies in a desultory way under the 
 gentleman at whose house they lodged. They were neither 
 of them much given to hard work, but they mixed in the
 
 6 JACK. ARMTTAGE. 
 
 gaieties of tlie place, and, if I may judge from Mr Armytage's 
 MS. Journal, lived with each other on the best terms. 
 " Arthur "Wesley," says the document in question, " was 
 extremely fond of music, and played well upon the fiddle, 
 but he never gave indication of any other species of talent. 
 As far as my memory serves, there was no intention then of 
 sending him into the army ; his own wishes, if he had any, 
 were in favour of a civilian's life." 
 
 Having touched upon the early acquaintance of these two 
 men, it may not be amiss if I show in this place how it 
 went off for a season, and how it came to be renewed. After 
 residing for about a year at Brussels, Lady Mornington 
 returned home, sending her son to the military school at 
 Angers. John Armytage was at the same time ap^Dointed 
 to a Cornetcy in the Blues, with which regiment he con- 
 tinued to serve till marriage with an heiress enabled him to 
 retire from the army and to settle as a country gentleman 
 in or near Northampton. There he gave himself up to such 
 pursuits as were in those days fashionable among men of his 
 class. He hunted, shot, drove four-in-hand, and patronized 
 the turf, being a regular attendant, among other meets, at 
 Doncaster races. It happened one day in 1827, when he 
 stood upon the Grand Stand beside the race-course, that a 
 voice which struck him as not unfamiliar, exclaimed, " I'll 
 be d — d if that isn't Jack Armytage." Jack immediately 
 turned rouud, and found himself f;\ce to face with his old 
 companion and fellow-student of other days. There was a 
 cordial gripe of hands, followed by questions as to what 
 each had been doing since they parted 42 years before. 
 " You know pretty well what I've been about," said the 
 Duke, " but how have you employed yourself all the while ?" 
 " Well, sir," replied Mr Armytage, " while your Grace has 
 been driving Buonaparte and his Marshals up and down, 
 and all over France, Spain, Portugal, and Belgium, I have 
 been driving four-in-hand almost every day from Northamp- 
 ton to Barnct and back again.* Yours has been the more 
 glorious career of the two, but mine I suspect has not been 
 
 * lie uspd to meet the mail regularly in its course up and down, and 
 handle the ribhons.
 
 AT AXGESS. 7 
 
 tlie least agreeable." The Duke laughed, and Tvent on to 
 speak about Louis Goubert their tutor, adding this anecdote : 
 " As I rode into Brussels the day after the battle of "Water- 
 loo, I passed the old house, and recognized it, and pulling 
 up, ascertained that the old man was still alive. I sent for 
 him, and recalling myself to his recollection, shook hands 
 with him, and assured him that for old acquaintance' sake 
 he should be protected from all molestation." 
 
 Mr Armytage, who never wearied of describing this little 
 scene, died at Northampton, in 1861, at the advanced age 
 of 92. It does not appear that the Duke and he ever met 
 afterwards. They took leave of each other on the Grrand 
 Stand at Doncaster, equally resolved to renew their intimacy 
 elsewhere ; but their courses in life lay wide apart, and in 
 politics they differed. How far this latter circumstance 
 may have tended to keep them asunder, must be left to 
 conjecture. All that is certainly known on the subject 
 amounts to this, that their first and last greeting, subse- 
 quently to their Brussels' intimacy of 1785, began and ended 
 as has just been described. 
 
 I should be glad, if I possessed the requisite information, 
 to give some account of the Duke's manner of life while 
 a pupil in the military school at Angers. If any memorials 
 of him were ever established there, the avalanche of the first 
 French E,evolution must have swept them all away. But 
 none would appear to have been set up. His early friends, 
 of whom not one now survives, used indeed to say that he 
 made better use of his time at Angers than he had done 
 either at Chelsea or Eton, and he himself stated that he 
 formed some agreeable acquaintances in the neighbourhood, 
 from whom he learned to speak French with the accent and 
 precision of the days of the old monarchy. But here our 
 materials for narrative fail us. We know nothing more than 
 that he pursued his studies at Angers for about a year and a 
 half or two years, and then returned home. 
 
 Arthur Wesley entered the army on the 7th of March, 
 1787, on which day he was appointed to an ensigncy in the 
 41st Eegiment of foot. On the 25th of the following De- 
 cember he became a Lieutenant. That he was then, and for
 
 8 EAriD PROMOTIOX. 
 
 some time continued to be, the shy and awkward lad, in 
 Avhom the fair sex for the most part see little to admire, 
 the following anecdote, which I give on the authority of 
 the late Lady Aldborough, seems to prove. She is speak- 
 ing of him after he became aide-de-camp to the Lord 
 Lieutenant of Ireland : — " We had a pic-nic near Dublin, 
 and I took Wesley in my carriage, but he was so dull that 
 I threw him over and brought back le beau Cradock 
 (the first Lord Howden). All the other carriages having 
 started, or being full, he had nothing for it but to return 
 with the band. I reminded him of the incident in the 
 height of his fame, adding, ' When I left you to go home 
 with the fiddlers, I little thought you would ever play first 
 fiddle yourself " 
 
 Mr Wesley attained the rank of Captain on the 30th of 
 June, 1791, and on the 30th of April, 1793, he was appoint- 
 ed to the 33rd Eegiment of the line as Major. His subse- 
 quent promotion was rapid, for on the 30th of September he 
 obtained the lieutenant-colonelcy of his regiment. He then 
 fell into the seniority groove, from which, in those days, no 
 one could escape ; and spent in consequence half as many 
 years in the rank of lieutenant-colonel as had been required 
 to raise him to that rank from an ensigncy. Colonel in 
 1790, he became Major-general in 1802, and General with 
 local rank in 1811. His last and final step to Field Marshal 
 was taken in 1812, under circumstances which shall be more 
 fully detailed when the proper time comes. 
 
 Though Mr Wesley owed his rapid advancement partly to 
 political influence and partly to money, and though it be. 
 perfectly true that till he arrived at the command of a regi- 
 ment no opportunity was afibrded him of earning distinction 
 in the field, a very erroneous inference will be drawn if it be 
 assumed that because he had been so successful, he was 
 therefore an ignorant or even a careless regimental officer. 
 The very reverse is the fact. He never neglected a duty, or 
 went through with it as if it were irksome to him. He read 
 a great deal, in a desultory Avay no doubt, but still to good 
 ])urpose ; and he addicted himself from the outset to a habit 
 which remained with him to the last, that of acquainting
 
 KEEPS FREE FROM DEBT. 9 
 
 himself in all manuer of odd ways with everything worthy of 
 notice which passed around him. No exhibition of a new 
 discovery, no display of ingenuity or skill, however absurdly 
 applied, failed to number him among its investigators, and 
 he was not only quick in calculating and drawing inferences, 
 but took special delight in both practices. I have often 
 heard him say that the power of rapid and correct calcula- 
 tion was his forte, and that if circumstances had not made 
 him what he was, he would probably have become distin- 
 guished in public life as a financier. 
 
 Mr Wesley still lacked a month or two of completing his 
 21st year when he took his seat in the Irish House of Com- 
 mons for the family borough of Trim. He was then a cap- 
 tain of cavalry and aide-de-camp to the Lord Lieutenant,* — 
 a somewhat perilous position for a youth, who, with scarcely 
 any other resources than his military pay, found himself 
 thrown into the very vortex of a court famous for its gaiety 
 and extravagance. It has been said that then for the first 
 and only time in his long career he became involved in pecu- 
 niary difficulties ; and stories are told of his being helped 
 out of them by tradesmen, one of whom, a draper named 
 Dillon, paid his bills. I must be permitted to doubt the 
 truth of these stories, which are contradicted not only by 
 the habits of well-ordered economy which distinguished him 
 in after life, but by the whole tone and tenor of his convers- 
 ation. I have repeatedly heard him discuss the subject of 
 debt, which he denounced as discreditable in the extreme. 
 His expression was, " It makes a slave of a man : I have 
 often known what it was to be in want of money, but I never 
 got into debt." It is not, therefore, very probable, had the 
 Dublin stories been authentic, that the Duke with his tena- 
 cious memory could have forgotten them. It is impossible 
 to conceive that oue so rigidly adherent to truth in small 
 
 * The Duke's first and least scrupulous patron was the Earl of "West- 
 moreland. He was Lord Lieutenant of Ireland when Arthur "Wesley re- 
 ceived his first commission, took the youth at once upon his staff, and heaped 
 promotion upon him. Lord Westmoreland's court was remarkable for the 
 low state of its morality, and the excess of its extravagance. That of Lord 
 Camden, which came next, offered to it in both respects a striking contrast.
 
 10 COMMANDS THE 33rd REGIMENT. 
 
 matters as •well as iu great, wouLl, in this solitary instance, 
 have stepped aside from it. 
 
 Of his career as an Irish senator no record has been pre- 
 served. He seems to have spoken but rarely, and never at 
 any lengtli. His votes were of course given in support of 
 the party to which lie belonged, but otherwise he entered 
 very little into the business of the House. Neither can I dis- 
 cover any traces of intimate or frequent correspondence with 
 members of his own family. One incident, and only one, in 
 his personal history at this period, deserves to be noticed. 
 He became attached to Lady Catherine Pakenham, third 
 daughter of Michael, Earl of Longford, a young lady pos- 
 sessed of great personal charms, and a prodigious favourite 
 at the vice-regal court. The means, however, to support a 
 wife in the style to which the lady had been accustomed, 
 were wanting, and Lord Longford objecting to the match, 
 the young people separated, free indeed from all positive en- 
 gagement, but with a tacit understanding that they would 
 continue true to one another, and wait for better times. 
 
 Captain Wesley was thus circumstanced when the British 
 Grovernment determined to afford to Holland, against which 
 the Prench armies were moving, the militaiy support which 
 England was bound by treaty, in such an emergency, to 
 supply. Anxious to see real service, he wrote to his brother. 
 Lord Mornington, begging him to make interest for a majority 
 in a battalion which was about to be formed out of the flanlc 
 companies of different regiments of guards. The application 
 was refused, and Captain AVesley continued to act as aide- 
 de-camp in Dublin, till promoted into the 33rd of the line, 
 of which regiment he took command on the 30th of Septem- 
 ber, as lieutenant-colonel. Erom that day he devoted all the 
 time which could be spared from his duties in Parliament, to 
 improving the discipline of his battalion. He drew up for it 
 a code of standing orders, which have been faithfully pre- 
 served ever since. He looked narrowly into its interior 
 economy, which he rendered as perfect as the customs of the 
 British army would then permit, and he had ere long the 
 satisfaction to find that by every general officer who inspect- 
 ed it, the 33rd was pronounced to be the best drilled and
 
 IX THE LOW COUNTRIES. 11 
 
 most efficient regiment witliin tlie limits of the Irisli com- 
 mand. 
 
 So passed his time till towards the end of May, 1794, 
 when the 33rd received orders to proceed to Cork, and em- 
 bark for foreign service. Colonel Wesley resigned his seat 
 in the Irish House of Commons, and put himself at the head 
 of his regiment. A small force had already been collected 
 for the purpose of making a descent upon the coast of Brit- 
 tany ; but the misfortunes which about this time overtook 
 the allied armies in the Netherlands, led to a change of plan, 
 and Lord Moira, to whom the command of the expeditionary 
 corps had been entrusted, was directed to proceed with it to 
 the assistance of the Duke of York. With the fii'st divi- 
 sion of that corps Colonel Wesley put to sea. He reached 
 Ostend early in June, and Lord Moira arriving, a few days 
 subsequently, with the main body of the troops, preparations 
 were made to open the campaign. 
 
 With Lord Moira's successful march from Ostend to Ma- 
 lines I am not concerned. Colonel AVesley took no part in 
 it. He was sent round by water with his own and other 
 battalions to Antwerp : — upon which point not long after- 
 wards the corps of the Duke of York and of the Prince of 
 Orange fell back. Both had sustained reverses, the former 
 at Oudeuarde, the latter at Fleurus ; and both were separ- 
 ated from the Austrian army by the issues of the action at 
 Montague de Per, near Louvaine. A retreat in opposite 
 directions was thereupon commenced. The Prince of Orange 
 retired with his force towards the Ehine, while the Duke of 
 York marclied his own and the Dutch troops upon the 
 Mouse, hoping from his position there to cover Holland. 
 Never were grosser blunders committed, except by the Prencli 
 Committee of Public Safety, which interfered to prevent Gre- 
 nerals Pichegru and Jourdan from taking advantage of the 
 opportunity which these false movements presented. Had 
 the Allies known how to make war, they would have con- 
 centrated after the aifair of Pleurus near Bi^ussels, and thence 
 assumed the offensive. Had the councils of the Prench been 
 raore wisely directed, they would have fallen with all their 
 force upon each retreating corps separately, and destroyed
 
 12 HIS FIEST ACTION. 
 
 both in detail. The French, however, after wasting two 
 months in inaction, broke up into two corps, and pushed back 
 the Allied generals into the positions which they were sever- 
 ally desirous of occupying. 
 
 It was the month of July ; and in the lines covering Ant- 
 werp, Colonel Wesley for the first time found himself in the 
 presence of an enemy. No event of importance occurred, 
 however, till the September following, when the Anglo- 
 Dutch army quitted its position, and took the road to Hol- 
 land. On the loth of the same month it was engaged in a 
 serious affair with the right of the republican army. Anxi- 
 ous to interpose between the Allies and the Meuse, the 
 French had on the previous evening seized the village of 
 Boxtel, from which the Duke of York directed General Aber- 
 crombie, with two battalions of the guards, four of the line, a 
 battery of artillery, and a couple of squadrons of horse, to 
 dislodge them. The English, though they attacked with gal- 
 lantry, sustained a repulse, and being closely pursued, would 
 have probably been cut to pieces, had not Wesley, with ex- 
 ceeding promptitude, deployed his battalion and checked the 
 pursuers. The village was not retaken, but his judicious 
 move arrested the ardour of the enemy, and the English 
 were enabled to continue their retreat in good order, and 
 without hea\y loss. 
 
 Colonel Wesley's judgment and coolness attracted that 
 day the notice of General Dundas, who seized the earliest 
 opportunity, after the Duke of York resigned the command, 
 to mark his sense of the young soldier's merits. In January, 
 1795, he was placed at the head of a brigade, consisting of 
 three weak battalions, and directed to cover the further re- 
 treat of the army. And a service of extreme difficulty, hard- 
 ship, and suffering it proved to be. Driven from the Meuse 
 across the Wahl, and from the Wahl across the Leek, the 
 English, now separated from the Dutch, fought for existence, 
 amid the depth of a winter unexampled in Europe for sever- 
 ity. The rivers which at other seasons might have inter- 
 posed some obstacles to the enemy were all frozen over. 
 There was no commissariat ; the resources of the open coun- 
 try were exhausted : the more populous towns, imbued with
 
 niS EXPERIENCE OF WAR. 13 
 
 republican opinions, had become decidedly hostile ; and fort- 
 ress after fortress opened its gates, the Dutch garrisons 
 going over to the invaders. Still, whenever the day of battle 
 came, the English did their duty ; and again, in an affair 
 near Meterin, between the "Wahl and the Leek, Colonel 
 AYesley greatly distinguished himself. But the game was 
 up. On the 2nd of December, 1794, the Duke of York gave 
 over the command to the Hanoverian Greneral, Count Wal- 
 moden, and before the end of the following January, Ams- 
 terdam, Daventer, Caervorden, Sneppen, and Emden, were 
 one by one evacuated. Nothing now remained except to 
 embark the wreck of the army as soon as the breaking up of 
 the frost would allow. And this, without the necessity of sub- 
 mitting to the disgrace of a capitulation, was at length effected. 
 Short and disastrous as his first campaign had been, it 
 proved of unspeakable advantage to Colonel Wesley. If he 
 found nothing to admire in the general management of affairs, 
 the countless blunders which day by day were committed 
 conveyed to him lessons and warnings which he neither over- 
 looked nor forgot. There was divided command without 
 talent enough anywhere to lessen the incoTiveniences inse- 
 parable from it. There was total absence of forethought, of 
 arrangement, of system. There were national jealousies and 
 heartburnings innumerable. Sometimes one day, sometimes 
 two, would elapse without a moi'sel of food being issued to 
 the soldiers. The sick were left to recover or die, as the 
 strength or weakness of their constitution might determine. 
 Indeed the very wounded themselves received scarcely any 
 attention. Shoes wore out, and were not replaced, though 
 it was necessary to perform long marches amid melted snow 
 and over frozen ground ; and as to time, no man, high or 
 low, seemed to take the smallest account of it. " Ton can't 
 conceive such a state of things," the Duke used to say long 
 years afterwards. " If we happened to be at dinner and the 
 wine was going round, it was considered wrong to interrupt 
 us. I have seen a packet handed in from the Austrian head 
 quarters, and thrown aside unopened, with a remark, That 
 will keep till to-morrow morning. It has always been a 
 marvel to me how any one of us escaped."
 
 14 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 AT HOME IX IXDIA FALL OF SERIXGAPATAM. 
 
 Colonel "Wesley lauded at Har-wicli from the Low Coun- 
 tries in the early spring of 1795. He conducted his regiment 
 to Warley in Essex, "where an encampment had been formed, 
 and leaving it there, proceeded on a short visit to Ireland. 
 He seems to have laboured at this time under considerable 
 depression of spirits, and for some reason or another had 
 become disgusted Avith his profession. This we learn from a 
 letter addressed by him to Lord Camden, in Avhich he asks 
 that nobleman, then at the head of the Irish Government, to 
 find for him a situation either in the Board of Revenue or 
 in the Treasury. But though he describes himself as acting 
 on the occasion under the advice of Lord Mornington, the 
 application met with no success. Some other candidate, 
 probably supported by stronger political influence, obtained 
 the prize ; and "Wesley was left to carve out for himself 
 with his sword a name second to none in the military annals 
 of his country. 
 
 Colonel Wesley had enjoyed but a few months' repose, 
 when he was directed to join an expedition fitted out for the 
 reduction of the French settlements in the "West Indies. He 
 embarked in Admiral Christian's fleet, Avhich a succession 
 of heavy gales dispersed in the Channel, the transports 
 allotted to convey him and his regiment being driven back 
 to Spithead. So ended that enterprise. The regiment dis- 
 embarked again and proceeded to Poole, But there was a 
 call for its services elsewhere, and in the course of a few
 
 AD. 1707.] STATE OF BRITISH IXDIA. 15 
 
 months it embarked for India. Colonel "Wesley was suffer- 
 ing at tlie time under a sharp attack of illness which con- 
 fined him to his chamber ; he was unable therefore to accom- 
 pany the regiment. But taking a passage in a fast-sailing 
 frigate, he overtook the fleet still at anchor in Table Bay, 
 and on the 17th of Feb., 1797, entered Fort William, at the 
 'head of his corps. 
 
 The conditiou of British India, in 1797, was different in. 
 every respect from British India in 18G4. At the former of 
 these periods its right to be spoken of as an empire had 
 indeed been established, but it was an empire made up of 
 detached fragments, the largest of which comprised a popu- 
 lation of perhaps 30 millions, the smallest of not more than 
 half a million at the most. There were then, as there are 
 now, three Presidencies, — Bengal, Madras, and Bombay. 
 Bengal included the fertile provinces of Bengal, Bahar, and 
 Orissa. The authority of Madi'as was recognized over a 
 comparatively insignificant portion of the Carnatic ; Avhile 
 Bombay gave the law only to the town and harbour of that 
 name, and to a narrow strip of land running along the shores 
 of the adjacent continent. Interspersed among these Presi- 
 dencies and to a great extent surrounding them, were many 
 native states ; Nepal, the country of the Seiks, the kingdom 
 of Oude, the IMahratta principalities, including those of 
 Holkar, Seindia, and the Peishwa ; the Deecan, of which the 
 Nizam was at the head ; Bundeleund, Nagpore, Cuttack, 
 Mysore, and Travancore. All these, originally portions of the 
 great Mahometan Empire, or else, like the Mahrattas and 
 the Seiks, tributaries to the Mogul, had in the course of the 
 previous century and a half thrown off their allegiance, and, 
 some without foreign aid, others with such assistance as the 
 English and Erench factories could supply, succeeded in 
 establishing their independence. During the progress of the 
 wars which led to these results both English and Erench were 
 constrained to assume a new attitude in the country. In- 
 stead of traders, they became soldiers, and fought first for 
 existence, and by and by for empire. They invariably took 
 opposite sides in the native quarrels, and in due time stood 
 forward as principals instead of accessories. After a length-
 
 16 COLOXEL WELLESLET IX IXDIA. [1797 
 
 ened struggle the balance of fortune turned in favour of the 
 English. They defeated their rivals at all points, placed 
 their own candidates on vacant thrones, obtained from each 
 fresh accessions to their territory, and ended in becoming, if 
 not the paramount, at all events a leading power in India. 
 And all this in defiance of constant prohibitions from home 
 and asseverations from abroad, continually repeated, that 
 their single object was to conquer a peace which should 
 prove at once honourable and lasting. 
 
 The amount of physical force employed to achieve these 
 great ends cannot now be thought of except with astonish- 
 ment. A few hundred Englishmen were all that applied 
 their hands to lay the foundations of the Company's empire 
 in the East ; and very few thousands, not more than three 
 or four at the most, brought the work to a completion. 
 They did so indeed by communicating to natives their own 
 discipline, and in part at least their own spirit — and these 
 they found, under their own guidance, equal to every emer- 
 gency. But not the less true is it, that to effect so large a 
 purpose, qualities were needed, and called into existence, 
 such as are rarely to be met with in any other than the 
 Anglo-Saxon race. From the chief of a factory to the pri- 
 vate soldier who stood sentry at his gate, every Englishman 
 in India accepted it as a principle that great things were ex- 
 pected of him : and very few indeed, when the hour of diffi- 
 culty arrived, disappointed the expectation. The consequence 
 was that India became, what Mr Canning on a memorable 
 occasion pronounced it to be, " a country fertile in heroes 
 and statesmen." Eor every particular lad, whether he came 
 as a writer or as a cadet, stepped at once on his arrival into a 
 position more or less of responsibility, and knowing that he 
 had only his own energies to depend upon, he brought them 
 to bear at once, and either failed entirely or triumphed. 
 
 I am far from supposing that Avherever Colonel AVellesley 
 (for about this time the spelling of the name was changed) 
 had been called upon to serve, his mind would not have awak- 
 ened sooner or later from the half-lethargic state in which 
 throughout his earlier years it may be said to have lain. 
 He was already known in the arjny as an excellent regimental
 
 1797.] CONSULTED BY THE GOVERXMEXT. 17 
 
 officer, and needed only a fiiir field to show that he was 
 capable of higher things. But India, circmnstauced as it 
 then was, undoubtedly presented to him opportunities for 
 which, he might have vainly sought in any other part of the 
 world. The best proof of this lies in the fact, that from the 
 day of his arrival at Calcutta a complete change took place 
 in the moral and intellectual nature of the man. The habits 
 of quiet observation to which he had heretofore been addicted 
 expanded suddenly into reasoning. The experience of war 
 and its requirements which he had accumulated in the Ne- 
 therlands seemed to act upon him with the force of inspira- 
 tion, and his correspondence, happily preserved, becomes in 
 consequence instructive as well as intei'esting in the highest 
 degree. He had not been two months in the country 
 before he was consulted by the Government on everything 
 connected with the equipment and administration of the 
 army. He was chosen within three months to command a 
 force, which Sir John Shore ' proposed to employ in the 
 reduction of Manilla ; a charge which, with rare generosity, 
 he refused to accept till satisfied that the feelings of a meri- 
 torious officer, senior to himself, had suffered no outrage. 
 The enterprise came to nothing, because, while the troops were 
 still on their way, the Grovernor-general changed his mii\d. 
 But the pains which Colonel -Wellesley took to provide all 
 things necessary to ensure success, and the care which 
 he bestowed upon the health and comfort of his men, 
 showed that already he understood the importance of 
 attending to matters of detail, the neglect of which, almost 
 more than disasters in the field, renders armies inefficient. 
 Nor was it only in his own department properly so called 
 that he took at once and for ever the start of his con- 
 temporaries. The political relations of the Company with 
 the surrounding states, the character of the people over whom 
 their dominion was established, tlie position which the em- 
 pire must assume in India, if it was to become permanent 
 and prosperous, — all these demanded his attention, and he 
 mastered them. His letters consequently exhibit a wonder- 
 ful perception of the true state of things as they then existed, 
 and a clear understanding of the dangers which threatened. 
 
 2
 
 IS LORD MORXIXGTOX GOVERXOE-GEXERAL. [1797. 
 
 Xor "was he content to study India from one point alone. 
 He visited his old friend Lord Hobart, still Governor of 
 Madras, though on the eve of making way for Lord Clive, 
 and made himself master of the system which prevailed 
 there, and of which he certainly does not speak in laudatory 
 terms. The results of his experience in all these matters 
 he communicated to Lord Morniugton, on whom the office 
 of Governor-general had been pressed, urging him at the 
 same time not to reject the proffered dignity. " I strongly 
 advise you," writes Colonel Wellesley, " to come out. I am 
 convinced that you will retain your health, nay, it is possible 
 that its general state may be improved, and you will have 
 the fiiirest opportunity of rendering material services to the 
 public aud of doing yourself credit." Colonel "Welleslej^'s 
 arguments prevailed, and on the 17th day of May, 1797, the 
 brothers had the happiness to meet and embrace in the 
 Government house at Calcutta. 
 
 It would be an old story, often told before, were I in this 
 place to tell how Lord Morniugton found himself driven to 
 reverse the policy on which his immediate predecessors had 
 acted. A too manifest determination to keep at peace is 
 attributed by Orientals to weakness. And economy in the 
 management of national affairs leads, when carried beyond 
 wise limits, to extravagance. British India, when Lord 
 Morniugton assumed the management of its policy, was in 
 imminent danger both from without and from within. AVith- 
 in, the army had melted away for lack of recruitment ; the 
 arsenals were void and the treasury empty. "Without, the 
 native governments, stirred by the assurance of support from 
 France, plotted the overthrow of a power which they detest- 
 ed and were beginning no longer to fear. Tippoo Sahib, the 
 ruler of Mysore, was the ruling spirit in this combination. 
 He had 50,000 good troops trained in European tactics, 
 and officered by Frenchmen ; and only Avaited the arrival of 
 promised reinforcements from Mauritius in order to sweep 
 down upon ]Madras and destroy it. Meanwhile his agents 
 were busy in the Deccan, and urgent with the Mahrattas to 
 make common cause with him ; and even the sovereign of 
 Oude and the far-off Seiks cauiiht the infection. Lord
 
 1797.] IN MADEAS. 19 
 
 Mornin2;ton had not been many days in Calcutta ere the 
 true nature of his position became apparent to him. He 
 sa\\- that he must choose between two evils. Either he must 
 anticipate the designs of his enemies by attacking them in 
 detail, or meet them as he best could when they were in a 
 condition to fall upon him in a body. 
 
 Lord Mornington's voice, like that of Beelzebub in Milton's 
 Satanic gathering, was for open war. Colonel Wellesley 
 counselled peace ; indeed, it is a remarkable trait in the cha- 
 racter of that great soldier that peace, and the moral as 
 well as political wisdom of maintaining it, Avas always pre- 
 sent to his mind. But the power of maintaining peace de- 
 pended, in his estimation, on a nation's ability to go to war 
 at a moment's notice, and hence, while he restrained his 
 brother from breaking prematurely with Mysore, he advised 
 that preparations should be made to meet every contingency. 
 Lord Morningtou fell, though not without reluctance, into 
 his brother's views. As it was on the side of Madras, how- 
 ever, that danger more immediately threatened, he deter- 
 mined to send Colonel "Wellesley thither, which he was the 
 more disposed to do, that in the civil and military rulers of 
 that presidency neither he nor his brother reposed much 
 confidence. Yet even this step was taken in such a way as 
 to spare the self-love of those whom it was intended to con- 
 trol. Xo special office was conferred upon Colonel Welles- 
 ley, such as might entitle him to interfere authoritatively 
 with the proceedings of the Government. On the contrary, 
 he embarked with his regiment on the Hoogly, and went 
 round to Madras, as any other officer might have done, in 
 command of a corps which was intended to reinforce the 
 army in that quarter. 
 
 Though he produced no commission entitling him to share 
 in councils of state. Colonel Wellesley was naturally re- 
 ceived both by Lord Clive and General Harris with the re- 
 spect due to the brother of the Governor-general. He needed 
 no more than this to accomplish all that the Governor-general 
 expected from him. His sound jiidgment, clearly and mo- 
 destly expressed, soon made itself felt on every question, 
 
 and he became in a few days the moving spirit of the Go- 
 
 2* -
 
 20 NEGOCIATIONS WITH TIPPOO. [1793. 
 
 vernment in which he had no legal A^oice. But the Govern- 
 ment, though assenting to his proposals, lacked vigour to 
 enforce obedience to its own orders. He suggested that in 
 Barahmal, a district conquered not long before from Hyder 
 Ali, troops should be quietly assembled, and that a number 
 of forts which lay on the line of march towards Seringapa- 
 tam should be re])aired, and put in a defensible state. Above 
 all, he recommended that means should be provided for ren- 
 dering the war, if it came, an aggressive one, by collecting 
 bullocks and conveyances for an army ; yet he continued at 
 the same time to press upon his brother the wisdom of 
 avoiding a rupture, if it were possible to do so. " Don't 
 force Tippoo," he wrote, " into a corner ; make as little as 
 possible of the French declaration from Mauritius, and take 
 no notice of the handful of people whom he has received 
 from that quarter. When he finds the French alliance so 
 little profitable to him, he will probably get tired of it, and 
 of his own accord resume habits into which we could not 
 force him, except at great trouble and expense." Indeed, 
 so much in earnest was he in his desire to keep the empire 
 out of war, that he consented to go in person to the Court 
 of Tippoo and persuade him to lay aside his jealousies. 
 Tippoo, fortunately perhaps for Colonel Wellesley, refused to 
 admit an English ambassador into his presence, and thus 
 placed beyond a doubt the hostility of his intentions. 
 
 So time passed. The English treasury was again full. 
 Public credit revived, the army became once more efficient, 
 and a plan of campaign, drawn up by Colonel Wellesley, was 
 approved. It settled that the war when it came should be 
 aggressive : it got rid, as a step preliminary to that issue, of 
 the apprehended disaffection of the Nizam and of the Mah- 
 rattas. The former, freed from the presence of his French 
 officers, renewed his treaty of alliance with the English ; 
 the latter, according to the customs of their nation, played fast 
 and loose with both parties. It was at this juncture that 
 by the death in a duel of a senior officer, Colonel Wellesley 
 found himself appointed to the command of a division. He 
 hurried off towards the Mysore frontier, to place himself at 
 its head, and found, to his surprise and indignation, that the
 
 1798] GEXEEAL HAEEIS. 21 
 
 preparatioDS "wLicli had been ordered months before were 
 not so much as begun. The men were there and the guns, 
 1)ut not a beast of burden was available ; neither had any steps 
 been taken to equip the forts which were to protect the 
 communications of the army with its rear. Colonel A\"elles- 
 ley made no public complaint of this ; he never did com- 
 plain of events which were past remedy, but he set himself 
 to make up, as far as circumstances would allow, for the 
 negligence of which others had been guilty. In less than 
 three weeks he equipped and stored the forts, laid up sup- 
 plies of grain for his own and other divisions, and brought 
 together 12,000 out of the 40,000 bullocks, which his ori- 
 ginal memorandum had specified as necessary to render the 
 army moveable. Such exertions had never before been 
 heard of on that side of India, and Greneral Harris wrote of 
 them privately to the Groveruor-general in terms of high 
 commendation. But there the matter ended. Colonel AVelles- 
 ley was not unnaturally hurt at the slight thus put upon 
 him. " The General," he says in a letter to his brother, 
 " expressed his approbation of what I had done, and adopted 
 as his own all the orders and regulations I had made, and 
 then said that he should mention his approbation publicly, 
 only that he was afraid others w^ould be displeased and 
 jealous. Now as there is nothing to be got in the army ex- 
 cept credit, and as it is not always that the best intentions 
 and endeavours to serve the public succeed, it is hard that 
 when they do succeed they should not receive the approba- 
 tion which it is acknowledged by all they deserve. I was 
 much hurt about it at the time, but I don't care now, and 
 shall certainly do everything to serve General Harris, and 
 to support his name and authority." 
 
 From this generous resolution Colonel Wellesley never 
 departed. He had advised his brother, and the Governor- 
 general acted on the advice, to transfer the seat of the 
 Supreme Government from Port "William to Port St George, 
 as soon as the occurrence of hostilities should become in- 
 evitable. He now opposed Lord Mornington's further wish 
 to repair to the camp or march with the army. " Tour 
 presence in the camp," he says, " instead of giving confidence
 
 22 HIS GENEROSITY. [1798. 
 
 to the Greueral, would, in fact, deprive liim of the command. 
 If I were in General Harris's situation, and you were to 
 join the army, I should quit it. In my opinion, he is at 
 present awkwardly situated, and he will require all the powers 
 which can be given him to keep in order the officers who 
 will be in this army. Your presence will diminish his pow- 
 ers, at the same time that as it is impossible you can know 
 anything of military matters, your presence will not answer 
 this purpose." Nor did his loyalty to the officer under whom 
 he served end there. He privately i-emonstrated against the 
 assumed rights of the Military Board at Madras to dispense the 
 patronage of the field force which General Harris command- 
 ed. " I told Lord Clive all this," he says, in a letter to Lord 
 IMornington, " and particularly stated to him the necessity 
 of giving the General credit, at least, for the appointments, 
 if he did not allow him to make them. It is impossible to 
 make him too respectable, or to place him too high, if he is 
 to be the head of the armj^ in the field. This want of respect- 
 ability, which is to be attributed in a great measure to the 
 General himself, is what I am most afraid of. However, I 
 have lectured him well on the subject, and I have urged 
 publicly to the army (in which I flatter myself I have some 
 influence) the necessity of supporting him, whether he be 
 right or wrong." 
 
 It is impossible to over-estimate the true generosity of 
 conduct like this. Ordinary men, circumstanced as Colonel 
 AVellesley was, would have taken quite an opposite course. 
 In proportion as the influence of the Commander-in-chief 
 fell into the shade, his, as he well knew, would have become 
 conspicuous ; especially in the event of the arrival of the 
 Governor-general in camp, when all real power would have 
 passed into his hands. But such considerations never 
 weighed with him, either then or afterwards. Of the author- 
 ity set over liim, be it what it might, he was only the servant, 
 and he supported it, not because it was wise, or great, or pow- 
 erful, but because it was his duty, as a subject of the Crown, 
 to uphold the dignity of the Crovi'n's representative. We 
 sliall see as we go on w itli his history that from this principle
 
 1799.] REPULSED A]S'D WOUNDED. 23 
 
 of action, no considerations of gain or credit to himself 
 could ever tempt hirn to swerve. 
 
 The campaign against Tippoo and its results are matters 
 of history. In the advance from Vellore to Seringapatam, 
 Colonel Wellesley commanded the left column of the grand 
 army, consisting of the 33rd regiment of foot, and 15,000 of 
 the Nizam's troops. Other columns appi-oaehed the de- 
 voted city from the Southern Carnatic and from Bombay. 
 They united under the walls of the Mysorean capital on the 
 5th of April, 1799 ; though not till after a sharp affair at a 
 place called Mallavelley, on the road. Tippoo marched out 
 with the whole of his force, and fell there upon General 
 Harris's army, which by a happy movement of Colonel Wel- 
 lesley's colimm took the enemy in flank, and totally defeated 
 him. And now the siege began, which, so far as the Duke's 
 biographer is concerned, is memorable chiefly for this — 
 that during one of the preliminary operations, Colonel 
 Wellesley failed in a night attack, and received a slight 
 wound on the knee. It was at one time, I believe, a favourite 
 pastime with writers to make a great deal of that reverse. 
 The Colonel was represented as losing not only his way, but 
 his head ; and returning alone in a state of utter despondency 
 to the tent of Greneral Harris. Never was superstructure 
 of romance built up on so narrow a foundation. Colonel 
 Wellesley in his correspondence with his brother describes 
 the whole afiair, and thus he speaks : " On the night of the 
 5tli, we made an attack on the enemy's outposts, which, at 
 least on my side, was not quite so successful as could have 
 been wished. The fact is, that the night was very dark, 
 that the enemy expected us, and were strongly posted in an 
 almost impenetrable jungle. "We lost an ofiicer, killed, and 
 nine men of the 33rd Avounded, and at last, as I could not 
 find out the post which it was desirable I should occupy, I 
 was obliged to desist from the attack, the enemy also having 
 retired from the post. In the moriiing they re-occupied it, 
 and we attacked it again at day -light, and carried it with 
 ease, and with little loss. I got a slight touch on the knee, 
 from which I have felt no inconvenience, and I have come to
 
 24 SERINGAPATAM TAKEN. [1799. 
 
 the determinatiou never to suffer an attack to be made by night 
 upon an enemy who was prepared and strongly posted, and 
 whose posts had not been reconnoitred by daylight." 
 
 In the final assault and capture of the place, which occurred 
 on the 4th of May, Colonel AYellesley appears not to have 
 been actively engaged. He remained with his corps in 
 observation, as the bulk of a besieging army under similar 
 circumstances usually does. But he was soon called upon 
 to perform a duty quite as arduous as the storming of a 
 breach, and far more disagreeable. The troops who bore 
 the brunt of the fray shook aside the restraints of disci- 
 pline, and throughout the night of the 4th and during the 
 vvhole of the succeeding day committed frightful atrocities. 
 The town was set on fire in various places, and rapine and 
 plunder prevailed. Colonel Wellesley was directed to carry 
 his own regiment into the town and to restore order. " I 
 came in," he wrote to his brother, " on the morning of the 
 (Jth, and in the course of the da}^ I restored order among 
 the troops." " Plunder is stopped," so he reported to Ge- 
 neral Harris on the 7th, " the fires are all extinguished, and 
 the inhabitants are retiring to their homes fast. I am now 
 employed in burying the dead, which I hope will be 
 completed this day, particularly if you send me all the 
 Pioneers." 
 
 Among the dead lay Tippoo himself. He had fallen, 
 like a brave man, in the heat of the melee, and 
 Colonel Wellesley, with equal nobleness and good policy, 
 conferred upon him the rites of an honourable sepulture. 
 The palace was, at the same time, saved from plunder; and 
 even the pictures of Colonel Bailey's overthrow, which Tip- 
 poo had caused to be painted, were carefully preserved. 
 Indeed, from the hour at which he succeeded in restraining the 
 violence of his own people. Colonel Wellesley laboured to 
 restore confidence to the natives. The former of these objects 
 he did not attain without the exercise of a stern authority. 
 Gallows were erected in seven streets, and seven marauders 
 soon dangled from them. But the latter came of its own 
 accord. The people saw that there was both the will and the 
 power to protect them, and forthwith resumed their ordinary
 
 1799.] COMMAKDANT OF SEEIXGArATAM. 25 
 
 occupations. General Harris learned from all this that 
 he had given temporary authority to one who well under- 
 stood how to exercise it, and without any solicitations from 
 any quarter he confirmed Colonel Wellesley as commandant 
 of Seringapatam. Once more, I believe, occasion has repeat- 
 edly been taken to throw censure, or what was intended for 
 censure, on Colonel "Wellesley. He is described as owing 
 this lucrative apj)ointmeut to the influence of the Grovernor- 
 general, and as coming between more meritorious officers 
 and the prize which they Jiad richly earned. There is not a 
 shadow of truth in either assertion. Colonel Wellesley was 
 appointed, not only without interference on the part of Lord 
 Mornington, but absolutely without his knowledge. " You 
 know," wrote the Governor-general to General Harris, 
 when the arrangement was communicated to him, " whether 
 you would be doing me a favour if you employed him 
 (Colonel Wellesley) in any way that would be detrimental 
 to the public service. But the opinion, or rather the know- 
 ledge and experience, which I have of his observation, his 
 judgment, and his character is such, that if you had not 
 established him in Seringapatam, I should have done it by 
 my own authority." 
 
 So much for the charge of influence unduly exercised ; 
 and next for the assumption that by placing Colonel Wel- 
 lesley in comrnand at Seringapatam, General Harris put him 
 in the way of amassing a fortune. After he had enjoyed 
 the distinction and emoluments of office rather more than a 
 month, he thus describes his position, iu a private letter to 
 his brother :* " Since I went into the field, I have commanded 
 an army with a large stafi" attached to me, which has not 
 been unattended by a very great expense, especially latterly. 
 About six weeks ago I was sent in here with a garrison, con- 
 sisting of about half the army and a large staff", and I have 
 not received one shilling more than I did in Fort St George. 
 The consequence is, that I am ruined. I should be ashamed 
 of doing any of the dirty things that I am told are done in 
 some of the commands of the Carnatic ; but if Government 
 do not consider my situation here, I shall be ruined for ever," 
 
 * 14th Sept., 1799.
 
 2fi 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 CAMPAIGN AGAIXST DHOOXDIAH IN CEYLON THE MAHRATTA 
 
 WAR RETURNS TO ENGLAND. 
 
 From the montli of April, 1799, to December, 1800, Colo- 
 nel Wellesley retained without a break the chief command 
 in Seringapatam. So long as General Harris's army lingered 
 near, his position was that of commandant of the fortress 
 alone. AVhen the main body of the force returned to Ma- 
 dras, he became civil as well as military superintendent of 
 the district. It was a position which imposed upon him 
 much responsibility and put no inconsiderable strain upon 
 his energies. He had order to bring out of confusion, the 
 authority of law and justice to re-establish ; bands of robbers 
 to eradicate ; refractoiy chiefs to subdue. He accomplished 
 all these objects as much by management as by force, and 
 made himself at once respected and beloved by all classes of 
 the people. A becoming addition to his pay and allowances 
 relieved him at the same time from pecuniary anxieties, 
 while £7000, his share of prize money, enabled him to repay 
 to his brother sums advanced for tlie purchase of his 
 promotion. This was a great weight taken from his mind, 
 but sterner work was cut out for him. 
 
 In the dungeons of Seringapatam there lay, at the period 
 of its capture, a notable robber, by name Dhoondiah Waugh. 
 He was one of those adventurers whom we meet with only in 
 the East, who by courage and a certain amount of ability 
 raise themselves suddenly to influence, and not unfrequently 
 fall again as suddenly as they rose. Captured by Tippoo, 
 lie had been reserved for a painful death, which he escaped 
 by the bursting open of his prison-doors when Seringapatam
 
 1800.] DHOOXDIAH WAUGH. 27 
 
 fell to the Englisli. He fled, and soon gathered round him 
 some thousands of desperate men, chiefly the wreck of 
 Tippoo's army. With these he ravaged the country in every 
 direction, the numbers of his followers increasing in propor- 
 tion to his success. Against that man, who assumed the 
 title of King of the World, Colonel Wellesley found it 
 necpssai'y to equip a force, and began at the head of it a 
 campaign of the most extraordinary marches that had ever 
 been performed in India. 
 
 Dhoondiah's people, unencumbered with baggage, moved 
 from place to place with great rapidity. Their intelligence 
 also was excellent, and for a while they managed to elude 
 their pursuers. But perseverance and skill overcame all 
 obstacles in the end, and Colonel Wellesley came np with 
 them and twice struck them hard. Both affairs were those 
 of cavalry alone. The first occurred on the 29th of July 
 close to the Malpurda river, through which Dhoondiah was 
 driven with the loss of his artillery. The second took place 
 near the village of Correahgall with much more decisive 
 results. With 1200 horse. Colonel Wellesley charged and 
 overthrew 5000 of the enemy, cutting his way through, dis- 
 persing, and riding them down with great slaughter. Among 
 the killed was Dhoondiah himself, and among the prisoners 
 his son, a mere child, whom some troopers found concealed 
 in a baggage wasfsron, and brouofht to their commander. 
 Colonel Wellesley was greatly touched with the piteous 
 condition of the boy, and not only received him kindly at 
 the moment, but took him permanently under his protection. 
 I have not been able to ascertain what ultimately became of 
 that youth, but I know that his protector bestowed upon 
 him a good education, and that before quitting India he 
 made such arrangements as secured to the lad a fair start 
 in life. 
 
 The operations against Dhoondiah, besides being brilliant 
 in themselves, were the more creditable to Colonel Wellesley 
 that while they were yet in progress it was proposed to him 
 to resign the government of Mysore, and to assume the 
 command of a body of troops which the Grovernor-goneral 
 thought of employing in the reduction of Batavia. To men
 
 28 THE ISLE OF FRANCE THREATENED. [1800. 
 
 of ordinary minds, such a sure prospect of acquiring both 
 Avealth and reputation would have been irresistible, but now, 
 as at all stages in his M'ondrous career, duty was with Colo- 
 nel "Welleslev the great principle of action. Others might 
 succeed in reducing Batavia, or they might fail ; it was cer- 
 tain that if he interrupted his close pursuit of Dhoondiah for 
 a day, the freebooter would escape. He preferred, there- 
 fore, that his own interests should suffer, than that an 
 object important to the Avell-being of the country should 
 miscarry. Besides, the Mahrattas were beginning to be 
 restless again, and he could not venture to break up his 
 little army till he saw in what their movement should end. 
 It ended for the present in a return to a state of quietude, 
 and then, and only then, he declared himself ready for active 
 service in any part of the world. 
 
 The Isle of France offered at that time a tempting prize 
 to English ambition. It was the last of the French colo- 
 nies which had submitted to the new order of things, and 
 though garrisoned by republican soldiers, the royalist feeling 
 was understood to be still strong among the settlers. More 
 than once, wistful eyes had been turned towards it from 
 Calcutta, and at last Lord Mornington, trusting to co-opera- 
 tion from the people, determined to invade it. He deter- 
 mined also to emjDloy his brother in the enterprise, and 
 addressed to him an official connuunication, of which the 
 language, it must be confessed, is somewhat ambiguous. 
 Colonel Wellesley accepted the despatch as conferring 
 absolutely upon himself the conduct of the expedition. 
 He did not therefore hesitate as to the course which it 
 behoved him to follow ; but making over the administra- 
 tion of affairs in Mysore to his friend Colonel Stevenson, 
 set out without a moment's delay for Trincomalee in Cey- 
 lon. It was there that the expedition had been directed to 
 rendezvous, and such Avas the rapidity with Avhich Colonel 
 Wellesley travelled, that though his orders reached him only 
 on the 2nd of December, Christmas found him at his post, 
 AVith characteristic diligence he set himself at once to col- 
 lect stores for the use of the army, and to inform himself as 
 well as he could of the military and political condition of
 
 1801.] DISAPPOINTED AXD DISGUSTED. 29 
 
 the Island. But all ended for hiin in disappointment. 
 Those were times in which the authority of Governors- 
 pener&l, however absolute on shore, was not acknowledged 
 three miles beyond the coast. The senior naval officer on 
 the India station took orders only from home, and Admiral 
 Renier, though willing to co-operate in an attack on Bata- 
 via, refused point blank to act against the Isle of France. 
 Towards Batavia, Lord Mornington therefore turned his 
 attention. But Colonel Wellesley gained nothing from the 
 change of plan. On the contrary, it was announced to him 
 that another should be appointed to reap where he had 
 sown. And yet again, when instructions from home divert- 
 ed the armament towards Egypt, the place assigned to him 
 was that of second to Greneral Baird. "We cannot greatly 
 wonder if this fresh disappointment somewhat disturbed 
 his equanimity. It was mortifying enough to be thwarted 
 once, but to suffer this mortification twice, after so much 
 time and attention bestowed upon the work of preparation, 
 was more than be could bear. His letters of this date show 
 unmistakeable signs of irritation. Not a Avord escapes him 
 however to indicate that he slackened in his efforts to pro- 
 mote the public service. His labours continued at Trinco- 
 malee till the resources of the country were exhausted, and 
 then on his own responsibility he carried the armament to 
 Bombay, as being better able to supply its wants and nearer 
 to the scene of intended operations. But further than this 
 he resolved not to go. 
 
 Colonel Wellesley was not free from the weaknesses 
 which appertain to men in general, however marvellous 
 might be his power to overcome them. He felt keenly 
 enough the slight that had been put upon himself, but he 
 felt still more the injustice which others had suffered. " I 
 can easily get the better of my own disappointment," he 
 says, " but how can I look in the face the officers who, from 
 a desire to share my fortunes, gave up lucrative appoint- 
 ments and must go with one whom none of them admires ? 
 I declare that I can't think of the whole business with com- 
 mon patience." These, however, were but the first outbursts 
 of a not unnatural indignation. His feelins's soon calmed
 
 30 A MAJOR-GENERAL. [ISOl. 
 
 clown. Lord Mornington, conscious that he had acted some- 
 what unfairly, proposed to reinstate him in his counnand at 
 Mysore ; and Colonel Wellesley, whom a sharp attack of 
 illness rendered incapable, had he been ever so much disposed, 
 to follow the fortunes of General Baird, returned, as soon 
 as he found himself able to travel, to Seringapatam. 
 
 He arrived there on the 7th of May, 1801, and heard not 
 long afterwards of his advancement to the rank of Major- 
 General. It was an event which might have operated in- 
 juriously to his fortunes, but that a vacancy occurred just 
 at the moment on the staff of the Madras Presidency, and 
 that, without any solicitation on his part, he was immedi- 
 ately nominated to supply. This left him in continued 
 charge of a province, which day by day became more the 
 centre of important proceedings. But his satisfaction was 
 somewhat damped by the tidings which arrived about the 
 same time of the retirement of Mr Pitt from the head of the 
 administration at home, and of the peace of Amiens nego- 
 tiated under the auspices of his successor, Mr Addington. 
 The truth is, that both the Wellesleys were in those days 
 what the younger continued ever after to be, decided Tories. 
 Both likewise regarded peace with France in the light of a 
 mere suspension of hostilities, of which the consequences, 
 however beneficial elsewhere, could not fail to prove incon- 
 venient in India. But the consideration which weighed 
 with them most was the loss of Mr Dundas from the Board 
 of Control, where he had given to Lord Mornington's policy 
 a consistent and liberal support. So keenly, indeed, did the 
 Governor-general feel the delicacy of his new position, that 
 he entertained serious thoughts of resigning the govern- 
 ment. Partly, however, through his own sense of duty, 
 partly in consequence of Colonel AVellesley's remonstrances, 
 he resisted that inclination, and for some years more con- 
 tinued to maintain the honour and advance the interests of 
 his country in the high position to which he had been 
 called. 
 
 From May, 1801, to Xov. 1802, Colonel Wellesley's labours 
 as administrator of the province of Mysore were chiefly pacific. 
 He reformed abuses in all departments of the public service,
 
 1S02.] IXDIA rXSETTLED. 31 
 
 military as ^vell as civil. He cleared jungles, constructed 
 roads, and hunted down robber-bands wherever they made 
 their appearance. But India was then in a state which 
 prohibited all hope of permanent peace ; and before 1802 
 came to an end, the necessity of preparing for a new war 
 became evident. Of the Mahrattas and their princes I 
 have elsewhere spoken briefly. They were lords of a wide 
 tract of country, which extended from sea to sea, between 
 the island of Salsette and the mouths of the Ganges, 
 overlapping the Company's territories, and stretching north- 
 ward as far as the Sutlej. One chief, Dowlat Eao Scindia, 
 whose authority was acknowledged furthest to the North, 
 could bring into the field, besides swarms of irregulars, 
 80,000 disciplined infantry, 8000 cavalry, and 250 pieces 
 of cannon. A deserter from the French marines, by name 
 Perron, commanded this corps, and placed adventurers from 
 almost all the countries of Europe at the head of his divisions 
 and brigades. Anotlier Mahratta chief was Holkar, whose 
 dominions interposed between those of Scindia and Bombay, 
 and whose force consisted chiefly of cavalry, of which he 
 could bring 80,000 into the field. A third was the Eajah 
 of Berar or Nagpore, whose territory lay between the west- 
 ern shore of the gulf of Bengal and the Nizam's frontier ; 
 while the fourth, nominally the head of the confederation, 
 was the Peishwa. This latter prince kept his court at 
 Poonah, and was on terms of strict amity with the English ; 
 a circumstance which gave little satisfaction to his brother 
 chieftains, and led eventually to the rupture of which I 
 am going to speak. 
 
 Throughout the autumn and winter of 1802, Greneral 
 Wellesley's attention was constantly fixed on the Mahrattas 
 and their doings. So, indeed, was that of Lord Mornington, 
 for Holkar and Scindia were evidently aspiring each to 
 take the lead of the other, and afterwards consolidate in 
 his own person a strong empire. The Peishwa threw his 
 influence, such as it was, into Scindia's scale, whereupon 
 Holkar declared war and marched against the allies. He 
 defeated their combined armies near Poonah, on the 25th of 
 Oct., ] 802, and immediately set up a new Peishwa. But the
 
 32 TROOPS ASSEMBLE, [1803. 
 
 legitimate Peishwa, Badje Eao by name, took slielter at 
 Bombay, wbere preparations were made to lead bim back 
 ill triumpb to his capital. It was not, however, according 
 to the policy of those days to assist even an ally gratuitously. 
 The Peishwa, in recompense of the assistance rendered, un- 
 dertook to keep 6000 British troops permanently near his 
 person, assigning to the Company territory enough to defray 
 the costs of their maintenance ; and never again on his 
 own account to make war, or to permit wars to be waged by 
 any others of the Mahratta princes, except with the sanction 
 of the English Government. Such, in brief outline, was the 
 ti'eaty of Bassein, so important in its results to the gi'owth 
 of British power in the East, with which, as is little to be 
 wondered at, the whole of the Mahratta nation declared dis- 
 satisfaction, and against which chief after chief loudly pro- 
 tested. 
 
 Indignation at the wrong put vipon their common nation- 
 ality reconciled Holkar and Scindia, who entered at the 
 same time into alliance with the Eajah of Berar. All these 
 collected their troops ; and while Holkar with his disci- 
 plined legions kept guard in the North, Scindia and the Berar 
 liajah united their forces, and from a position which they 
 took up at Bourampoor, threatened the JN^izam, the ally of 
 the English, with all the miseries of war. 
 
 Not one of these various movements escaped the observ- 
 ation of General Wellesley. He appears indeed to have 
 foreseen most of them before they occurred, and to have re- 
 commended such an arrangement as the case required, whe- 
 ther war, or the continuance of an uncertain peace, should 
 result from them. An army of observation was assembled 
 early in 1803 on the Toombudra, which could be crossed as 
 circumstances might dictate, whetlier to repel an invasion of 
 the Nizam's dominions, or to bring back Badje Kao to Poonah 
 in peace. It is curious to observe how, in sending forward 
 the corps which were to form this army. General Wellesley 
 anticipates himself, so to speak, in the operations which he 
 afterwards conducted on a larger scale. There is the same 
 attention to details wliich manifests itself in his orders to the 
 army of the Peuinsuki ; the same determination to maintain
 
 1803.] HIS PLAN OF CAMPxVIGN, 33 
 
 discipline, and to protect the people throiigh whose fields 
 and villages the troops were to march. The very pace at which 
 men and guns are to move is specified, and not an article 
 required for hospital or field equipment is overlooked. The 
 consequence was a quiet and orderly movement, to which 
 the natives offered no opposition ; and to the success of 
 which the Mahrattas themselves contributed by bringing 
 supplies into camp. I advise all military men who are 
 desirous of mastering the science of their profession, to read 
 with care the Duke's published despatches, voluminous 
 though they be ; and to make no portion of them the subject 
 of more careful study than those which show how under 
 him operations were carried on in India. 
 
 While thus guarding against danger on one side of India, 
 General Wellesley was not regardless of what might befall 
 in another. His, indeed, was a plan of campaign which 
 embraced the whole field over which war might be expected 
 to flow. He sent General Lake with 14,000 men from 
 Bengal towards Delhi, while he himself with 23,000 provided 
 for the safety .of the Deccan. With General Lake's oper- 
 ations, successful as they were, I am not immediately con- 
 cerned. They ended in the destruction of Holkar's power 
 at the battle of Laswarree. And even of General Wellesley's 
 brilliant exploits I must be content to describe rather the 
 issues than the details. His first object was to form a 
 junction with a corps of 7000 men, under protection of 
 which the Peishwa was moving from Bombay to Poonah. 
 This he could effect only by a rapid march through a country 
 which ought to have been hostile, but which remained 
 friendly, because of the care which was taken to prevent 
 marauding, and to make the movement a gain rather than a 
 loss to the inhabitants. He next made a dash to save 
 Poonah itself, which the Governor, left by Holkar, was pre- 
 paring to evacuate, though not till after he should have 
 laid the town in ashes. I have often heard the Duke de- 
 scribe this enterprise, which he did very clearly and with great 
 animation. " We were within 40 miles of the place," he 
 used to say, "Avhen this resolution of Holkar's Lieutenant was 
 communicated to me. My troops had marched twenty miles 
 
 3
 
 34 POOXAH SAVED. [1803. 
 
 that clay under a burning sun, and the infantry could no 
 more have gone five miles further than they could have flown. 
 The cavalry, though not fresh, were less knocked up, so I 
 got together 400 of the best mounted among them, and set 
 off. We started after dark on the night of the 19th of 
 March, and in the afternoon of the 20th Ave got close to the 
 place. There was an awful uproar, and I expected to see 
 the flames burst out, but nothiug of the kind occurred. 
 Amrut Eao, — that was the Mahratta's name, — was too fright- 
 ened to think of anj'^thing except providing for his own 
 safety, and I had the satisfaction of finding, when I rode 
 into the town, that he had gone off" with his garinson by one 
 gate as we went in by another. We were too tired to 
 follow, had it been Avorth while to do so, which it was not. 
 Poonah was safe, and that Avas all I cared for." 
 
 NotAvithstanding the reinstatement of the Peishwa in his 
 capital, there was no war as yet between the English and the 
 Mahrattas. The latter maintained, indeed, their threatening 
 attitude on the Nizam's frontier, and marauders from their 
 camp passed it occasionally to plunder. But this was a state 
 of things which coidd not last. General AVellesley informed 
 Scindia and Holkar that they must retire beyoud the Ner- 
 budda, otherwise he should be obliged to attack them ; and 
 they, with the cunning of their race, endeavoixred to evade the 
 proposal without positiA'ely declining to accede to it. Delay, 
 hoAvever, while it suited their ends, was exactly opposed to 
 his. The Nizam Avas knoAvn to be dying, and a rencAval 
 of the Avar betAveen England and France might any day be 
 expected ; he therefore repeated his demand in more per- 
 emptory terms, and was again put off". He had been pre- 
 pared for this issue all along, and brought the negotiation to 
 a close. " I have off"ered you peace," he wrote, " on tenns 
 of equity, honourable to all parties ; you have chosen Avar, 
 and are responsible for the consequences." 
 
 General Wellesley, after the occupation of Poonah, had 
 been obliged to look to the safety of many exposed points, 
 and his force was, in consequence, broken up into several 
 corps. Under his own immediate orders, at a place called 
 Sangwer, upon the Seena, Avcre 8903 regular troops, with
 
 1S03.] AHMEDXUGGUR STORMED. S5 
 
 5000 irregulars, partly Mahratta, partly Mysorean horse ; 
 while Colonel Stevenson, with 7920 men, and 16,000 of the 
 ]N^izam's people, was at Anrungabad, north of the Godavery. 
 These, together, constituted the army of operations, properly 
 so called, and were in observation of Scindia and the Eajah 
 of Berar ; who had assembled.at Jalgong, in rear of the Ad- 
 juntee Hills, not less than 38,000 horse, 14,000 disciplined 
 infantry, 190 guns, and 500 rockets. The two English corps, 
 though separated by a wide extent of country, yet worked 
 together, and were strong enough to depend, while ma- 
 noeuvring, each upon itself. In the event of the enemy 
 being forced to fight a general action, it was desirable to 
 engage him Avith both. 
 
 With a view of bringing matters to this issue. General 
 "Wellesley broke up from Sangwer on the 6th of August, 
 and encamped the same night, amid torrents of rain, a few 
 miles short of Ahmednuggur. It was a place of great re- 
 puted strength, and important as lying on the line of his 
 communications, and he determined to reduce it before pro- 
 ceeding further. 
 
 Indian forts are, for the most part, built near the summits 
 of hills, having the towns or pettahs clustered round the 
 bases ; and about each town is usually drawn a wall with 
 towers or circular bastions at intervals. Before attacking 
 the fort, the town must almost always be taken ; and General 
 Wellesley having failed to persuade the Governor to sur- 
 render, ordered the pettah of Ahmednuggur to be stormed. 
 And here, for obvious reasons, I prefer telling the story of 
 that operation in the words of the chief actor, rather than 
 in my own. " We had the same storm of rain all the 7th 
 which annoyed us on the 6th ; but the weather cleared dur- 
 ing the night, and early on the morning of the 8th, I sum- 
 moned the place. My proposals were rejected ; and having 
 made the necessary arrangements beforehand, I let loose 
 the storming party. As I was watching the progress of 
 things, I saw an officer seize a ladder, plant it against the 
 wall, and rush up alone. He was thrown down on reaching 
 the summit, but jumped up at once, and reascended ; he was 
 again thrown down, and again reascended, followed on this 
 
 3*
 
 36 COLIN CAMPBELL. [1803. 
 
 occasion by the men. There was a scuffle on the top of the 
 wall, in which the officer had to cut his way through the de- 
 fenders, and presently a whole crowd of British troops 
 poured after him into the town. As soon as I got in, I 
 made inquiries about him, and found that his name was 
 Colin Campbell, and that he was wounded. I sought him out, 
 and said a few words to him, with which he seemed greatly 
 delighted. I liked his blunt, manly manner, and never lost 
 sight of him afterwards. He became oneof my aides-de-camp, 
 and is now, as you know, the Governor of Plymouth." 
 
 Such a summary method of reducing the pettah struck 
 the Governor with astonishment as well as dismay. He 
 waited only till the English batteries began to fire, and then 
 proposed to capitulate. It was of more importance to Gen- 
 eral "Wellesley to save time than to destroy or make pri- 
 soners of 1400 Mahrattas ; he therefore permitted the garri- 
 son to march away, with its arms and baggage, and took 
 quiet possession of the citadel. A little labour bestowed upon 
 it rendered it an admirable place d'arvies ; which at once 
 covered his own rear and overawed such of the princes of 
 Southern India as might be inclined to make common cause 
 Avith the enemy. This done, he renewed his march, and, 
 heading the Mahrattas on one side, while Stevenson headed 
 them on another, he at last forced them to concentrate with 
 the apparent view of hazarding a battle. 
 
 It was ascertained on the 24th of September, that the 
 enemy were in position, and in great strength, near a village 
 called Bokerdun, behind the Adjuntee Hills. General 
 Wellesley himself was then at Budnapoor, where, in the 
 course of the 2oth, Colonel Stevenson joined him, and it was 
 arranged that they should move on the morrow in two 
 columns — so as to come up with the enemy, through different 
 passes, about the same time. It chanced however, while 
 the British generals were arranging their plans, that the 
 Mahrattas had changed their ground, and that they now oc- 
 cupied a delta, formed by the confluence of the Kaitna and 
 the Juah, having tlieir right on Bokerdun, and tlieir left 
 on the village of Assaye. They were thus brought nearer 
 by two or three uiiles to the site of the British camp than was
 
 1S03.] POSITION OF ASSAYE. 87 
 
 supposed, increasing thereby the distance ^\hich it became 
 necessary for Stevenson to compass, in the same proportion 
 as Greueral Wellesley's march was shortened. The conse- 
 quence -was that about two o'clock in the afternoon of the 
 26th, General "Wellesley found himself suddenly in presence 
 of 50,000 men, secured on both sides by villages and rivers, 
 and covered along their whole front by 128 pieces of cannon. 
 His own corps consisted of something less than 8000, of which 
 1500 only were Europeans : and 17 guns, drawn by animals 
 worn out with hard work, made up the whole of his train. 
 Tor a moment, and only for a moment, he paused to consider 
 whether it would be better to fall back, or to risk an action. 
 In the former case, he was pretty sure to be followed and 
 harassed at every step ; perhaps his baggage might be cut 
 off, and the enemy would doubtless avail themselves of the 
 cover of night to escape. In the latter he had the long odds, 
 so far as numbers were concerned, against him, and a posi- 
 tion of great strength, and not unskilfully taken up, to 
 carry. On the whole, however, it appeared to him advisable 
 rather to run all risks than to exhibit the faintest sign of 
 timidity ; so he placed his baggage where he believed that 
 it would be safe, and arranged his order of battle. 
 
 To those who lived on terms of any intimacy with the 
 Duke, there was nothing so agreeable as to get him, when in 
 a communicative mood, on the subject of his campaigns. He 
 expressed himself with such clearness and entire simplicity, 
 that a child could understand, while a philosopher admired 
 and became instructed by him. It seemed, likewise, as if 
 his Indian wars, perhaps because they were the first in 
 which he had an opportunity to control and direct large 
 operations, had made the strongest impression on his me- 
 mory. Of the battle of Assaye, he used to say that it was 
 the hardest-fought affair that ever took place in India. " If 
 the enemy had not neglected to guard a good ford on the 
 Kaitna, I don't know how we could have got at him ; but 
 once aware of his neglect, I took care that he should not 
 liave time to remedy it. We passed the river in one column 
 and then deployed. Unfortunately my first line, which had 
 been directed to keep clear of Assaye, swayed to the right,
 
 33 , THE BATTLE. [1803. 
 
 and became exposed to a heavy fire of musketry in that 
 direction. 'This obliged me to bring the second line sooner 
 into action than I intended, and to employ the cavalry — the 
 19th Dragoons — early in the day, in order to save the 74th 
 from being cut to pieces. But whatever mistakes my 
 officers committed, they more than made up for by their 
 bravery. I lost an enormous number of men : 170 officers 
 were killed and wounded, and upwards of 2000 non-commis- 
 sioned officers and privates ; but we carried all before us. 
 We took their guns, which were in the first line, and were 
 fired upon by the gunners afterwards, who threw themselves 
 down, pretending to be dead, and then rose up again after 
 our men had passed; but they paid dearly for the freak. 
 The 19th cut them to pieces. Seindia's infantry behaved 
 admirably. They were in support of his cannon, and we 
 drove them off at the point of the bayonet. We pursued 
 them as long as daylight lasted and the exhausted state of 
 the men and horses would allow ; and slept on the field." 
 
 While Greneral Wellesley Avas thus warmly engaged, 
 Colonel Stevenson held his appointed course, and gained the 
 further hiide of the hills, only to discover that the enemy 
 were not where he expected to find them. The sound of 
 firing reached him however, and acting on a rule which 
 Grouchy, at a later period, is accused by his countrymen of 
 having neglected, he brought up his right shoulder and 
 marched towards it. He arrived on the field of battle just 
 in time to see that the victory was complete, and to follow 
 and inflict further damage on the fugitives. After which, 
 by Colonel Wellesley's desire, he laid siege one after another 
 to several strong forts, which covered the approaches to 
 Berar in that direction. Meanwhile, Scindia and Ragogee 
 Bunshi, confounded by their disaster at Assaye, endeavoured 
 to open separate negotiations with General Wellesley, at the 
 same time that they reinforced their army with every dis- 
 posable man, and manoeuvred to interrupt these sieges. 
 There was one fortress in particular, a place called Gawil- 
 ghur, regarded by the natives with almost superstitious re- 
 verence, the endeavour to save Avhich brought them once 
 more into collision with Colonel Wellesley's army. This
 
 1803.] BATTLE OF AEGAUM. 39 
 
 second battle was fought near the village of Argaum, on 
 ground selected by the enemy themselves, because it was 
 suitable for cavalry, in which they were strong. But neither 
 the advantage of position, nor a vast superiority in numbers, 
 availed against the skill and hardihood of the assailants. 
 After a march of 26 miles under the rays of an Indian sun, 
 Greueral Wellesley, with 18,000 men, of whom 4000 were 
 irregulars, came upon 40,000 Mahrattas, and instantly at- 
 tacked them. For a moment, and only for a moment, the 
 issue of the sti-ife seemed doubtful. Three Sepoy battalions, 
 which had behaved admirably at Assaye, were seized with a 
 sudden panic, and began to move off, when General Wellesley 
 himself rode up and rallied them. They turned round, fell 
 upon their pursuers, and drove them from the field. Thirty- 
 eight guns, many elephants and camels, with an enormous 
 quantity of baggage, became the prize of the victor, and the 
 light of a full moon enabled him to pursue with his cavalry, 
 and to inflict heavy loss on the fugitives till a late hour of 
 the night. 
 
 The loss of this battle, with the surrender of Grawilghur, 
 put an end to the Mahratta war in Central India. Scindia 
 and Eagogee Bunsla felt that further resistance would be 
 useless, and after a good deal of chicane and equivocation, 
 they threw themselves on the mercy of the conqueror. The 
 terms imposed upon them were severe. Territory was ceded to 
 the Company, yielding a revenue of two millions, and measur- 
 ing about 2400 square miles of surface extent, which in- 
 cluded Delhi, Grwalior, Grohud, Baroach, Ahmednuggur, and 
 other important towns. It was stipulated also that neither 
 chief should hereafter receive into his service Europeans of 
 any nation except with the consent of the Grovernor-general, 
 — Scindia agreeing to co-operate with the English and com- 
 pelling Holkar to accept similar terms. 
 
 This treaty of peace, as well as the conduct of the war, 
 was altogether the work of Greneral Wellesley. He had ar- 
 ranged the entire plan of operations before they began, and 
 received plenary power from Lord Mornington to act Iti 
 every emergency as his own judgment miglit siiggest. In 
 after-years he used often, when one or two confidential
 
 40 THE BRINJAREIES. [1803. 
 
 friends got about him, to speak in glowing terms of the gen- 
 erous confidence witli which his brother treated him. 
 
 And when the conversation took that turn it was not 
 difficult to lead him on into details which were highly inter- 
 esting. For example, he would say, referring to the subsist- 
 ence of his troops during the campaign, " that he greatly 
 preferred depending upon Brinjarries to the difficulty and 
 labour of transporting grain. The Brinjarries are native 
 grain-dealers. They traverse the face of the country in 
 large bodies, and besides being able to defend themselves 
 against marauders, they enjoy a sort of immunity from mo- 
 lestation in passing through states which have any govern- 
 ment at all. Pay them well, and you may almost always 
 depend upon them. I never found them fail me. If I had 
 endeavoured in that war to carry about with me stores of 
 grain suflicient for the consumption of the sepoys and the 
 animals, I should have done nothing. It was difficult enough 
 to transport my ammunition, and supplies of meat and rum 
 and bread for the Europeans." 
 
 " The Mahrattas were capital marchers, were they not ? " 
 
 " Tes ; but except when they set out on a mere predatory 
 excursion, I always managed to come up Avith them. Mah- 
 rattas cannot live upon air more than other people, and the 
 Brinjarries would not trust them. Besides, they always 
 encumbered themselves sooner or later Avith plunder, and 
 then we had them." 
 
 " Was the country settled immediately on the conclusion 
 of peace ? " 
 
 " Not at all. The country was never settled, except in those 
 districts over which Ave extended our authority. Even the 
 Nizam, our ally, was always ready to play us a trick. He 
 refused to shelter my Avouuded after the battle of Assaye, 
 till I compelled him to do so. And Avhen Scindia and 
 Ragogee Bunsla could no longer hold out the promise of 
 plunder to their people, most of them deserted, and set up 
 as free-booters on their OAvn account. There Avas one band, 
 in particular, under a very daring leader, Avhicli gave us a 
 good deal of trouble. The fellow broke into the Deccau, 
 defeated the Nizam's troops, and Avas growing formidable,
 
 1803.] RIVERS CROSSED. 41 
 
 wheu I set out in search of him. I was suffering at the 
 time from boils, a not uncommon complaint, by the by, in 
 India, and riding "nas disagreeable, but I got upon my horse, 
 and after a march of sixty miles ascertained that he had 
 managed to put a river between him and me, which the 
 guides assured me was impassable. We pushed on across 
 a large plain, and presently saw the river, which certainly 
 had no bridges upon it, and looked very much as if it 
 were too deep for fording. I noticed, however, that two 
 villages stood directly opposite to one another, looking like 
 a single village with a stream running through, and I said 
 to myself, ' These people Avould not have built in this man- 
 ner unless there were some means of communication from 
 side to side.' I made no halt, therefore, and found, sure 
 enough, that a very good ford allowed the inhabitants of one 
 village to visit their neighbours in the other A'illage at all 
 hours of the day. We crossed by that ford, greatly to the 
 disgust of our guides, Avho intended the robbers to get 
 away, and overtaking the marauders we attacked and dis- 
 persed them, taking all their guns and baggage. I knew 
 that, without guns, and broken up as they were, they 
 would be cut to pieces in detail by the armed villagers, and 
 it Avas so." 
 
 " The rivers must have puzzled you at times, for you 
 probably did not carry pontoons with you." 
 
 " No, we had no pontoons in those days. We crossed 
 the rivers either by fords, or, when these failed us, by 
 bridges resting upon inflated skins. In fact, we made Avar 
 pretty much as Alexander the Grreat seems to have done, 
 and as all men must do in such a country as India then Avas. 
 My heaviest siege-guns were tAvelve-pounders, and I often 
 found them so inconvenient to carry that they were left 
 behind." 
 
 It Avas thus that the Duke used to speak of his own oper- 
 ations against the Mahrattas and of his Indian Avars gener- 
 ally. His estimate of the policy which brought about these 
 wars never varied. He held that Lord Morxington was 
 in every case forced into the hostilities in which he engaged. 
 Hesitation on his part in taking the initiative Avould have
 
 42 QUITS INDIA. [1805. 
 
 encouraged the native powers to combine ; and the contest, 
 which was inevitable sooner or later, Avould have been not 
 only more expensive, but in its issue perhaps more doubtful. 
 These were not the views taken at the time by the Court of 
 Directors. In a succession of despatches they expressed 
 themselves so angrily about orders disobeyed and dividends 
 absorbed, that General Wellesley,whom Lord Moruington con- 
 sulted on the subject, advised his brother to resign. As to 
 Greneral Wellesley himself, he had by this time begun to look 
 for something more than an Indian career, of which the effects 
 Avere telling upon his constitution. He applied therefore, 
 in the autumn of 1801, for leave to return to Europe, and 
 not doubting that the request would be acceded to, he 
 repaired to Calcutta in order to take leave of the Governor- 
 general. Lord Mornington, however, had not acted upon 
 his brother's advice. The support afforded him by the 
 King's ministers, though less vigorous than he had a right 
 to expect, sufficed to make him indifferent to the censure of 
 his masters in Leadenhall-street ; and having made up his 
 mind to remain a little longer at the head of the Indian 
 Government, he did what he could to dissuade his brother 
 from leaving him. So far he prevailed that General Wel- 
 lesley returned to Seringapatam, of which he continued to 
 administer the affairs till the beginning of 1805. Beyond 
 that date, however, no considerations Avere strong enough to 
 keep him in the country. On the first of February he 
 renewed his application to the ]Madras Government ; on the 
 13th he arrived at Fort St George, packed and ready for the 
 voyage ; on the IGth he took possession of a cabin in H. 
 M.S. Trident, and India saw him no more. He did not de- 
 part, however, till he had secured from many quarters marks 
 of the esteem and respect in which the Indian coumiunity 
 held him. The native inhabitants of Seringapatam sent 
 him an address, in which these remarkable expressions occur : 
 " You are entitled to our gratitude for the tranquillity, 
 security, and prosperity which Ave have enjoyed under your 
 beneficent administration. "We address our prayers to 
 the God of all castes and of all nations, that he will grant 
 you health, glory, and good fortune." The people of Ma-
 
 1S0.5.] TOKENS OF RESPECT. 43 
 
 dras gave him a magnificent farewell banquet, causing his 
 portrait to be placed among those of the chief benefactors 
 of the province. From the English settlers in Calcutta, he 
 received a valuable sword, and from the officers of the army 
 of the Deccau, a gold epergne, bearing this inscription, 
 " Battle of Assaye, 26th Sept., 1803." Nor, as it appeared, 
 had either his or his brother's claims to share in such 
 honours as the Crown can bestow, been overlooked. Before 
 quitting Madras Greneral Wellesley was gratified by learn- 
 ing that the honour of the Bath had been conferred upon 
 himself; and that his brother was advanced a step in the 
 Peerage, being created Marquis Wellesley.
 
 44 
 
 CHAPTEE IV. 
 
 IN COMMAND AT HASTINGS CHIEF SECRETARY FOR IRELAND 
 
 EXPEDITION TO COPENHAGEN. 
 
 After a tedious but not disagreeable passage of exactly six 
 calendar months, Sir Arthur AVellesley arrived at Portsmouth. 
 He had spent one month out of the six at St Helena, of which 
 he speaks in his correspondence as beautiful and salubrious ; a 
 fact worth noting when we bear in mind the use to which the 
 island was subsequently turned. His leisure hours on 
 board of ship he seems to have amused by drawing up papers 
 on various subjects of public importance. Two of these at least 
 are interesting at the present day, because they relate, one 
 to the agriculture of India, another to the employment of 
 African troops in the East, and of Sepoys in the "West 
 Indies. This interchange of force, which was a good deal 
 thought of at the period, he unhesitatingly condemned, 
 assigning reasons which it is impossible to question. But 
 other subjects employed his thoughts at the same time. He 
 heard at St Helena of the abrupt removal of Lord Wellesley 
 from power and the appointment of Lord Cornwallis to suc- 
 ceed him ; and remembering that Mr Addington was no 
 longer at the head of the administration, he was not more 
 annoyed at the iingracious proceeding than perplexed how 
 to account for it. Like a wise man, however, he abstained 
 from discussing the grievance, except in confidential commu- 
 nications with his brother; and laid himself out to ascertain 
 quietly through what influence it had occurred, before he 
 should take any decided steps to vindicate Lord "Wcllesley's 
 reputation.
 
 180.5.] MARQUIS OF BUCKIXGnAJI. 45 
 
 Lord Castlereagh was at that time President of the Board 
 of Control. On him Sir Arthur waited immediately on his 
 arrival in London, and learned, scarcely to his surprise, that 
 great efforts had been made in many quarters to create 
 in the minds of the King's ministers a prejudice against his 
 brother. It appeared, also, that these efforts had not been 
 entirely unsuccessful, for Lord Castlereagh, an old friend of 
 the Wellesleys, expressed disapproval of the Governor-gen- 
 eral's wars, and still more of his treaties, and es^^ecially of 
 the treaty of Bassein. Sir Arthur set himself to remove so 
 false an impression, and to a great extent he succeeded. But 
 Lord "Wellesley had many enemies, and, as the event proved, 
 they were both powerful and vindictive. At that moment, 
 however, the AVliigs suddenly became his friends. They had 
 given him no support while sharing with Mr Addington 
 the honours and responsibilities of office, but being now in 
 opposition themselves, they did their best to separate him 
 entirely from Mr Pitt. In the 4th volume of the Duke's 
 supplementary Indian Despatches, there is a letter which gives 
 a curious account of a visit paid by the writer to the Mar- 
 quis of Buckingham at Stowe, as w'ell as of an interview 
 with Lord Bathurst at Cirencester. Lord Buckingham, a 
 follower of Mr Pox, presses upon Lord Wellesley the wis- 
 dom of throwing in his lot with the Whigs. " It is the best 
 political game of the day, looking to the difference of the 
 ages of the King and of the Prince of Wales." Lord 
 Bathurst, a member of Mr Pitt's cabinet, reasons differently ; 
 and while expressing a hope that his old friend would return 
 to former habits of thbiking and acting, advises him " to 
 take no decided part in politics immediately on his arrival, 
 nor till his Indian question should have been settled." Of 
 this course Sir Arthur heartily approved, and Lord Welles- 
 ley, as is well known, adopted and profited by it. The 
 same letter sjDeaks of a ride with Mr Pitt himself from 
 Wimbledon Common to London. " We rode very slowly," 
 Sir Arthur says, " and I had a full opportunity of discussing 
 with him and explaining all the points in our late system in 
 India to which objections had been made, which were likely 
 to make any impression upon him." He then aUudes to
 
 46 COURT OF DIRECTORS. [1805. 
 
 Lord Wellesley's natural desire to have a Parliamentary 
 inquiry into his conduct, and expresses himself well pleased 
 with the manner in which Mr Pitt listened to the sugges- 
 tion. " I have seen INIr Pitt several times since," he adds ; 
 " he has always been very civil to me, and has mentioned 
 you in the most affectionate terms." 
 
 Sir Arthur's next point was to obtain a hearing from the 
 Court of Directors, to whom, on Lord Castlereagh's sug- 
 gestion, he volunteered to pay his respects in person. They 
 declined to see him, but invited him, as they coidd scarcely 
 avoid doing, to one of their great Wednesday dinners. 
 " jMy pi'oposal to wait upon them on my arrival," he says, 
 " the chairman recommended that I should withdraw, be- 
 cause it had no precedent. The real reason, however, for 
 which they refused to receive me was, that they were appre- 
 hensive, lest by any mark of personal attention to me they 
 should afford ground for a belief that they approved of any 
 of the measures in the transaction of which I had been con- 
 cerned." The Directors of the East India Company are no 
 longer the influential body which they Avere, when Sir 
 Arthur Wellesley was refused the honour of a special inter- 
 view with the Chairs ; but a retrospect of their behaviour 
 to those who served them best in seasons of difficulty and 
 danger does not impress us with any exalted idea of the 
 fitness of a mercantile corpoi'ation to administer the afiairs 
 of a great Empire. 
 
 It was during this season of inaction, when Cheltenham 
 Avas Sir Arthur's head-quarters, and he passed to and fro 
 between that town and other places as business or pleasure 
 required, that for the first and last time in their lives, the 
 greatest Admiral and the greatest General whom England 
 has ever produced met and conversed. " I had an engage- 
 ment with Lord Bathurst," the Duke used to say, " and 
 found in his waiting-room a gentleman who had lost an eye 
 and an arm. We entered into conversation, neither of us 
 being at all aware of who the other might be, and I was struck 
 with the clearness and decision of his language, and guessed 
 from the topics which he selected that he must be a seaman. 
 lie was called in first and had his interview ; I followed,
 
 1S05.] LORD NELSON. 47 
 
 and after settling our business, Lord Bathurst asked me 
 whether I knew who it was that preceded me. I answered 
 no, but that I was pretty sure from his manner of expressing 
 himself that he was no common man. ' You are quite right,' 
 was the answer ; ' and let me add that he expressed exactly 
 the same opinion of you. That Avas Lord Nelson.' He 
 was then making his preparations for going on board the 
 Victory, and counted on fighting the great battle in which 
 he died." 
 
 Being upon the subject of Sir Arthur's meetings with the 
 illustrious men of that age, I may as well give his own 
 account of a somewhat remarkable scene in which he and 
 Mr Pitt were actors, and which I am happily able to do in 
 the words of Mr Pitt's best biographer. 
 
 " The Duke," says Lord Stanhope, " spoke of Mr Pitt, 
 lamenting his early death. ' I did not think,' said the 
 Duke, 'that he would have died so soon. He died in 
 January, 1806, and I met him at Lord Camden's in Kent, 
 and I think that he did not seem ill, in the November pre- 
 vious. He was extremely lively and in good spirits. It is 
 true he was by way of being an invalid at that time. A great 
 deal was always said about his taking his rides, for he used 
 then to ride 18 or 20 miles every day, and great pains were 
 taken to send forward his luncheon, bottled porter, I think, 
 and getting him a beef-steak or mutton-chop ready at some 
 place fixed before-hand. That place was always mentioned to 
 the party ; so that those kept at home in the morning 
 might join the ride there if they pleased. On coming home 
 from these rides they used to put on dry clothes, and to 
 hold a cabinet, for all the party were members of the cabi- 
 net, except me, and I think the Duke of Montrose. At 
 dinner Mr Pitt drank little wine ; but it was at that time 
 the fashion to siip, and he then took a great deal of port 
 wine and water. 
 
 " ' In the same month I also met Mr Pitt at the Lord 
 Mayor's dinner ; he did not seem ill. On that occasion I 
 remember he returned thanks in one of the best and neatest 
 speeches I ever heard in my life. It was in a very few 
 words. The Lord Mayor had proposed his health as one
 
 48 MR PITT. [1806. 
 
 wlio had been the saviour of EDgland, and would be the 
 saviour of the rest of Europe. Mr Pitt then got up, dis- 
 claimed the compliment as applied to himself, and added, 
 ' Eugland has saved herself by her exertions, and the rest of 
 Europe will be saved by her example ; ' that was all ; he was 
 scarcely up two minutes, yet nothing could be more perfect. 
 " ' I remember another curious thing at that dinner. 
 Erskiue was there. Now Mr Pitt had always over Erskine 
 a great ascendancy, the ascendancy of terror. Sometimes in 
 the House of Commons he could keep Erskiue in check 
 by merely putting out his hand, or making a note. At this 
 dinner, Erskine's health having been drunk, and Erskine 
 rising to return thanks, Pitt held up his finger, and said to 
 him across the table, ' Erskine, remember that they are drink- 
 ing your health as a distinguished Colonel of Volunteers.' 
 Erskine, who had intended, as we heard, to go off upon 
 Rights of Juries, the State Trials, and other political points, 
 was quite put out : he was awed like a school-boy at school, 
 and in his speech kept strictly within the limits enjoined 
 him.' " 
 
 Thus the Duke used to speak of the " Pilot that weather- 
 ed the storm." He did not add, Avhat the first Lord Sid- 
 mouth told me, that Pitt entertained the highest admiration 
 of Sir Arthur Wellesley then, and used to say that he 
 found him quite unlike all other military men with Av]]om 
 he had ever conversed. ** He never made a difficulty, or hid 
 his ignorance in vague generalities. If I put a question to 
 him, he answered it distinctly ; if I wanted an explanation, 
 he gave it clearly ; if I desired an opinion, I got from him 
 one supported by reasons that were always sound. He was 
 a very remarkable man." 
 
 Sir Arthur returned from India, as he himself informs us, 
 certainly not rich, but master of a modest competency. 
 That indifference to the service, however, which ten years 
 previously had induced him to think of quitting it, was at 
 an end, and he now received with satisfaction an announce- 
 ment from the Duke of York tliat he might expect shortly 
 to be employed. The promise Avas in due time fulfilled, and 
 he found himself in command of a brigade of Infantry which
 
 1806.] SEAT IX PARLIAMENT OFFERED. 49 
 
 was quartered in and about Hastings. Had he looked upon 
 this as a slight rather than as a favour, no one could 
 have been surprised. The descent was striking enough from 
 the management of great armies in the field, to the routine 
 duty of drilling and inspecting two or three battalions at a 
 home station. But Sir Arthur never for a moment took so 
 unworthy a view of the matter, — " I have eaten the King's 
 salt," was his reply to some who remarked on the arrange- 
 ment, " and consider myself bound to go where I am sent, 
 and to do as I am ordered." Brighter prospects, however, 
 soon dawned upon him. By the death of Mr Pitt, followed 
 Avithin a few months by that of Mr Eox, new combinations 
 for the government of the country became necessary, and a 
 body of statesmen holding different opinions on many points 
 of more or less importance, came into office, with Lord Grren- 
 ville as their head. Now Lord Grrenville, an old friend of 
 Lord Wellesley, had been no consenting party to the attacks 
 upon his administration of the aifairs of India ; and believing 
 that Sir Arthur would be better able than anybody else to 
 defend his brother in Parliament, he proposed to him to 
 stand for the borough of Rye, in which the Grovernment 
 interest was paramount. The whole proceeding was from 
 first to last highly creditable to both parties. Lord Gren- 
 ville knew that on general questions Sir Arthur Wellesley 
 Avould be little disposed to support the administration. He 
 avoided throwing out the faintest insinuation that such sup- 
 port was expected, but, assigning his reasons for making 
 the proposal, made it on its own merits. Sir Arthur, on the 
 other hand, with equal frankness declined to avail himself of 
 the ofier till his political friends should be consulted, and 
 writing to Lord Castlereagh on the subject, received a reply 
 which I cannot deny myself the pleasure of inserting. 
 
 " St James' Square, "Wednesday evening. 
 " Mt dear "Wellesley, 
 
 " I lose no time in replying to your letter, which I 
 received just as I was sitting down to dinner. As far as I 
 can venture, as an old and very sincere friend, to express an 
 
 4
 
 50 SEAT ACCEPTED. [1807. 
 
 opinion, I tbink you cannot permit yourself for a moment 
 to hesitate in accepting Lord Grenville's proposal. Tour 
 presence in the House may be of the utmost service to your 
 brother, and you must feel that this consideration is and 
 ought to be conclusive. I am sure, whatever may have 
 occurred to associate Lord Grrcnville with other connections 
 in the Government, that Mr Pitt's friends, so far as their 
 sentiments can be permitted to weigh on such a point, will 
 be unanimously of opinion that circumstanced as Lord Wel- 
 lesley is at present, both with respect to the Government 
 and the active steps taken to arraign his public conduct, 
 your first and only consideration must be the protection of 
 his character and services from unjust aspersions, which 
 your intimate knowledge of the details of his Indian ad- 
 ministration must qualify you above any other individual 
 to do." 
 
 Whatever hesitation Sir Arthur may have previously 
 experienced, vanished on the receipt of this letter. He stood 
 for Eye on the Government interest, was elected, and took 
 his seat ; and had the satisfaction of knowing that his 
 straightforward statements of what his brother had done 
 contributed mainly to the Parliamentary acquittal, which 
 saved to Lord AVellesley his good name, though it robbed 
 him of the bulk of his fortune. 
 
 The fate of the coalition cabinet of " all the talents," as 
 it was called, is well known. The attempt to foi-ce upon 
 George III. measures to which he was hostile, led within 
 the year to the resignation of Lord Grenville and liis col- 
 leagues ; and a new administration, pledged to an opposite 
 policy, came into office. Of that administration the Duke of 
 Portland became the head. The Duke of Kichmond was 
 nominated to the Lieutenancy of Ireland, and Sir Arthur 
 AV^ellesley was appointed to serve under him as Chief Se- 
 cretary. 
 
 The state of Ireland both social and political was at that 
 time very deplorable. Shut out from the administration of 
 the affairs of their own country, the Roman Catholic gentry 
 were agitating for the repeal of the disabilities under which
 
 1807.] STATE OF IRELAND. 51 
 
 they laboured. The E.onian Catholic clergy, having special 
 objects of their own to serve, gave them in this agitation but 
 a divided support, while the great body of the people, still 
 suffering from the effects of the rebellions of 1798 and 1803, 
 stood in some degree apart from both. Meanwhile the habits of 
 both high and low were become alike demoralized and vicious. 
 The upper classes took no thought of the lower, except to wring 
 from them the utmost possible amount of rent ; which they 
 squandered upon a hospitality as rude as it was lavish, residt- 
 ing in a majority of cases in ruin to themselves and to their 
 families. The example thus set was not lost upon the lower 
 orders. Idle and improvident, they aspired to nothing bet- 
 ter than to keep soul and body together, by agriculture car- 
 ried on in its rudest form, and eked out by universal mendi- 
 cancy. And all were alike untruthful, corrupt, and selfish. 
 Jobbing was the rule in every station of life ; integrity, and 
 respect for principle, the exception. On the yeomanry and 
 peasantry of a nation so circumstanced, no reliance could be 
 placed, for they were disaffected almost to a man ; and to a 
 section only of the gentry could the Government look for 
 support. But support, especially support in Parliament, 
 was not to be secured except as a matter of bargain. Noble- 
 men and gentlemen commanding votes in their respective 
 counties or boroughs, sold them to the best bidder ; some- 
 times for a single session, sometimes for a whole Parliament ; 
 sometimes for a series of years. And as the party in power was 
 generally in a condition to offer a better price than the party 
 in opposition, the Government of the day, whether it were 
 Whig or Tory, derived no small share of its political strength 
 from the Irish constituencies. 
 
 To the Chief Secretary was committed, among other im- 
 portant trusts, the care of managing what were called the 
 political influences of Ireland. This had been done time 
 out of mind, Avith just so much of disguise as to render the 
 corruption over which the veil was assumed to be thrown, 
 doubly hideous. JSTow of hypocrisy in this or in any other 
 case Sir Arthur was incapable. Taking office as a subordi- 
 nate member of the Government, he took it with all its re- 
 sponsibilities, and he acquitted himself of these responsibili- 
 
 4 *
 
 52 HIS VIEWS THEREON. [1807. 
 
 ties in civil life exactly as he would have done had they 
 been connected with operations in the field. What concern 
 had he with men's meannesses except to make use of them ? 
 As to calling; jobs by any other than their proper names, or 
 pretending; to appeal to patriotism, when the point really to 
 be touched was self-interest, sucli a course of proceeding lay 
 quite apart from his idiosyncrasies. He never went about 
 the bush in asking for parliamentary support. His negotia- 
 tions were all open and above-board. Places, pensions, ad- 
 vancement in rank, sums of money, were promised in exchange 
 for seats ; and deaneries and bishoprics, equally with clerk- 
 ships of customs and tide-waiters' places, balanced on one 
 side votes in the Houses of Lords and Commons on the 
 other. I have often heard him speak of the political system 
 of that period, and always in the same terms. " It is not 
 very easily defended on abstract grounds, but in this, as in 
 everything else connected with the management of human 
 afliLxirs, we must look rather to results than to matters of 
 detail. You condemn the Government for bribing the Irish 
 gentlemen, and the Irish gentlemen for accepting bribes. I 
 am not going to defend the Irish, or any other gentlemen 
 who accept bribes. That is their concern, not mine. But 
 if the object sought be the best possible Government, and if 
 that Government cannot be obtained except through the 
 venality of individuals, you surely won't blame those who turn 
 even the moral weaknesses of individuals to good accoimt ? " 
 
 " Perhaps not ; but can that be the best possible govern- 
 ment which rests upon the moral obliquity of a whole na- 
 tion ? " 
 
 " In the first place, I deny that the whole nation is or 
 ever was corrupt, though a portion of its more influential 
 classes may have l)een so. Per one member who was re- 
 turned through what you call corruption to the United 
 Parliament in J 807, ten took their seats the honest advocates 
 of the opinions which they held. And if the Government, 
 let it be composed of what party it might, was able to pur- 
 chase the support of that tenth, by what you call corrup- 
 tion, it was surely justified in securing such support, rather 
 than allow these members to go over to the opposition."
 
 1807.] INFLUENCE IN GOVERNING. 53 
 
 " But can you justify this practice of buying and selling 
 seats in the legislature at all r " 
 
 " Now you are opening up the whole question of consti- 
 tutional government. If you mean to ask whether I, as an 
 individual, could bring myself to barter political influence 
 for private gain, or whether I hold in any respect those who 
 do so, my answer is, that no consideration on earth would 
 induce me to make such exchange, and that I heartily despise 
 a venal politician, to whatever party in the state he may 
 belong. But my feeling in this matter ought not to turn 
 me aside from the consideration of this great fact : under a 
 constitutional monarchy we have to choose one of two things, 
 but we cannot have both. Either we may so manage our 
 political influences as that the wealth and intelligence of the 
 country shall preponderate in the legislature, in which case 
 property will be protected, at the same time that the freest 
 course is opened to industry and talent, — or we may throw 
 this influence into the hands of the needy and the ignorant, 
 Avith the certain prospect before us of a scramble, sooner or 
 later. Now I am one of those who believe that no nation 
 ever has thriven, or ever will thrive, under a scramble. And, 
 therefore, since I cannot command a majority in favour of 
 order, except by influence, I am willing to use influence, 
 even though the particular manner of using it may go against 
 the grain." 
 
 " Of course, you allude more particularly to close bo- 
 roughs ? " 
 
 " No, I do not. Close boroughs are generally less open 
 to be swayed by mercenary considerations than larger con- 
 stituencies. Some of them belong to great noblemen, whose 
 general views are either in agreement with those of the Go- 
 vernment, whatever it may be, or opposed to them. These 
 great noblemen are not to be bought by ofiers of place for 
 themselves or their dependents ; and still less by bribes in 
 money. Others are in the hands of gentlemen who repre- 
 sent colonial and other special interests, which they will 
 never sacrifice for personal considerations. It is in counties, 
 and in what are called open boroughs, that the influence of 
 Government tells the most, particidarly in Ireland, where, in
 
 54 INTERNAL ADMINISTRATION. [1807. 
 
 my day at least, almost every man of mark in the state had 
 his price." 
 
 It was thus that in after-life the Duke of Wellington ixsed 
 to speak of the political system which prevailed in Ireland 
 during his tenure of office as Chief Secretary. He defended 
 it only on the ground of its fitness for the circumstances 
 which had called it into existence. He never made a secret 
 of the scorn with which he thought of the jobbers who had 
 profited by it ; nor is there in all his published correspond- 
 ence a line whicli, if fairly read, goes to prove that his opin- 
 ions were different in 1807 from what we know them to have 
 been in 1831. On the contrary, there occur, from time to 
 time, expressions which show that he sometimes found it a 
 hard matter to conceal from his correspondents what he 
 really thought both of them and their applications. 
 
 Jobbing and dealing with jobbers, now to conciliate, now 
 to reprove, though it occupied a considerable portion of Sir 
 Arthur's time, did not engross it quite. The care of main- 
 taining the internal tranquillity of the country devolved iipon 
 him ; and he was much consulted as to the best means of re- 
 sisting invasion from abroad. The former of these objects he 
 endeavoured to accomplish by tlie establishment of an effect- 
 ive police : the model of that which at a subsequent period 
 Sir Robert Peel introduced into both Ireland and England. 
 Against the latter he guarded by selecting positions which 
 should cover the approaches to Dublin from the coast ; 
 and by arranging for the rajjid conveyance of troops to any 
 point which might be threatened. But he did much more than 
 this. He set his face against all displays of party-feeling, and 
 declined to sanction either the commemoration by yeomanry 
 corps of victories gained over the rebels, or the presentation 
 to the Lord-Lieutenant of political addresses by the clergy. 
 On the other hand, he never hesitated to require perfect obe- 
 dience to the laws, from rich as well as from poor, from land- 
 lords not less than from tenants. An agitation was got up by 
 certain noblemen and gentlemen against the payment of tithes; 
 he denounced it as both unjust and un])atriotic, and put it 
 down. On tlie other liand, he advocated tlie introduction of 
 an educational system into the countiy whicli should enable the
 
 1807.] HIS IRISH CORRESPONDEXCE. 55 
 
 children of Protestants and Eoman Cafholics to read tlie 
 same books and sit in tlie same classes. He was favourable, 
 also, to a State provision for the Eomish bishops and clergy, 
 on conditions to which at that time the Romish hierarchy 
 would have . gratefully assented. "Our policy in Ireland 
 should be," he wrote on the 18th of Nov., 1807, " to en- 
 deavour to obliterate, as far as the law will allow us, the 
 distinction between Protestants and Catholics; and that we 
 ought to avoid anything which could induce either sect to 
 recollect or believe that its interests are separate or distinct 
 from those of others." 
 
 This with other and similar expressions, which occur more 
 than once in his Irish correspondence, would seem to imply 
 that already the conviction was maturing itself in his mind 
 that penal and even disqualifying laws, on account of reli- 
 gious opinion, are a mistake. At all events, I have myself 
 more than once heard him express regret that Mr Pitt's 
 scheme for the Union of Great Britain and Ireland had not 
 been carried into effect as it was originally concocted. It 
 is fan* to add, however, that as the discussion proceeded he 
 generally qualified that opinion. " Ireland was then, as it 
 is now, the greatest political puzzle the world ever saw. 
 The more justly and kindly you treat the people, the more 
 difficult it seems to manage them. Indeed the results of 
 our own experience scarcely authorize us in assuming, that 
 emancipation, if it had been sooner granted, would have 
 worked better than it does now. But that does not aflect 
 my argument, that the failure of Pitt's plan was a great 
 misfortune. We had the Pope with us and against the 
 French Republic in 1800 ; and the Irish priests were mostly 
 of the old school. If the State had paid them, they would have 
 been true to the State, I believe ; for they got little out of 
 the people, and had nothing to expect but extirpation from 
 the French. However I am arguing according to supposi- 
 tion only, and may be mistaken." 
 
 " Did you approve then of the exercise by the Crown of a 
 veto on all ecclesiastical appointments made by the Pope." 
 
 " I did not think much about it in those days. The 
 Romish party themselves proposed it, perhaps because they
 
 56 BIRTH OF A SON. [1807. 
 
 knew it would be rejected. My duty was to obey, and to 
 see that others obeyed the laws. It rested with the 
 Grovernment and the legislature to change or to retain 
 them. But this I did think then, and think now, that 
 Government ought to do what is just towards the governed, 
 let the consequences be what they may." 
 
 Sir Arthur was thus employed when an event occurred 
 in his family which could not fail to interest him deeply, I 
 allude to the birth of his eldest son, the present Duke of 
 AYellington. For on the 10th of April, 1806, he had mar- 
 ried the same Lady Catherine Pakenham, to whom when 
 a captain of cavalry he became attached, and on the 7th of 
 February, 1S07, she presented him with his first-born. We 
 know that in the latter years of his life the Duke's fondness 
 for children was great. There is every reason to believe 
 that this amiable feeling was quite as strong in youth, and 
 we need not therefore draw unfairly upon the imagination 
 if we assume that he hailed the birth of this child with all 
 a father's tenderness. Be this however as it may, the state 
 of Europe was then such as to leave him little leisure for 
 the indulgence of domestic sympathies. Before the boy was 
 five mouths old, duty called him again into the field, under 
 circumstances which are better understood now than they 
 seem to have been both here and on the Continent a few 
 years ago. 
 
 The treaty of Tilsit, which brought the war between France 
 and Eussia to a close, included certain secret articles, ac- 
 cording to which the Hulers of the two states were to 
 divide Em'ope between them. To Alexander of Eussia the 
 empire of the East was to be given, the empire of the 
 West was to fall to the share of Napoleon. One obstacle 
 alone presented itself to the accomplishment of that purpose ; 
 Eugland ruled the waves, and till she should be reduced to 
 a state of helplessness, all other combinations must fail. 
 It was accordingly settled that towards the subjugation of 
 England, France and Eussia should put out their whole 
 strength, and that the other powers, and especially the 
 naval powers, should be constrained to co-operate with them. 
 JS'ow there were three of these powers, and only three, Den-
 
 1807.] ARMAMENT PREPARED. 57 
 
 inark, Sweden, and Portugal, wliicli maintained at that time 
 friendly relations with England ; and these, it was settled, 
 should be required, by force or fraud, not only to close their 
 ports against English commerce, but to employ their fleets 
 in covering a great enterprise for the invasion of England 
 itself. 
 
 It happened that there was assembled at Sheerness and 
 other harbours along the east coast, a large fleet and a con- 
 siderable army, Avith which it had been intended to sup- 
 port Hussia and Prussia, while yet at war with Prance. 
 Delays occurred however in the departure of the expedition 
 which defeated its purpose ; and now the Grovernment de- 
 termined to employ this force upon an enterprise which no- 
 thing short of the necessity of the case could justify. The 
 Danish fleet was a powerful one, Danish seamen are excel- 
 lent, it was essential to the very existence of England that 
 these should be prevented from passing into the service of 
 Prance. But there was only one mode by which that danger 
 could be averted, viz. by prevailing upon Denmark to transfer 
 her ships to Grreat Britain, on the distinct understanding 
 that they should be restored to her in an efficient state, as 
 soon as hostilities between England and Prance came to an 
 end. To make this proposal, however, without having at 
 hand the means of enforcing compliance, was felt to be use- 
 less. So the troops received orders to embark, and the 
 fleet to prepare for sea, only a few persons, of whom Sir 
 Arthur Wellesley was one, being made acquainted with the 
 destination of the armament. 
 
 Sir Arthur no sooner became aAvare of what was in pro- 
 gress, than he applied to be appointed to a command. His 
 application was not Avell received by the Government. They 
 had found him eminently useful as a civil administrator, 
 and urged him to abide at his post. This to a man not rich 
 was a strong temptation, for the salary of the Chief Secretary 
 of Ireland amounted in those days to £8000 a year. But 
 neither the reasonings of his colleagues nor the suggestions 
 of prudence diverted Sir Arthur from his purpose. " As I 
 am determined," he wrote to Lord Castlereagh on the 7th of 
 June, " not to give up the military profession, and as I know
 
 53 PRESSES TO BE EMrLOYED. [1807. 
 
 that I can be of no service in it unless I have the confidence 
 and esteem of the officers and soldiers of the army, I must 
 shape my course in such a manner as to avoid the imputa- 
 tion of preferring lucrative civil employment to active ser- 
 vice in the field." In the same spirit, and about the same 
 time, he expressed himself to the Duke of Richmond. " I 
 accepted my office in Ireland solely on the condition that it 
 should not preclude me from such service when an opportu- 
 nity should offer ; and I am convinced that though you may 
 feel some inconvenience from my temporary absence, suppos- 
 ing that it is intended I should return to you, or from the loss 
 of the assistance of an old friend, supposing that it is not, 
 you would be the last man to desire or to wish that I should 
 do anything with which I should not be satisfied myself ; and 
 I acknowledge that I should not be satisfied if I allowed 
 any opportunity of service to pass by without offering myself." 
 
 There was no resisting such arguments as these ; and the 
 Government gave way: but they yielded only on one condition, 
 — that Sir Arthur should retain his Chief-secretaryship, a sub- 
 stitute discharging the duties of the office during his absence ; 
 and that on his return, should he be able to return within three 
 months, he would put himself once more in harness. AYell 
 pleased to carry his point on any terms, Sir Arthur could 
 not possibly object to these ; so he handed over his office 
 with its details to the gentleman appointed to receive it, and 
 quitted Dublin for a season. 
 
 It is the province of history to tell how and with what 
 measure of success the Copenhagen expedition was conducted. 
 The plan of operations appears not to have quite satisfied Sir 
 Arthur AVellesley, who was anxious to save the Danish 
 capital from the horrors of a bombardment. His proposal 
 however to staiwe out the Island, by cutting oft' its communica- 
 tions with the main-land, was rejected ; and the troops dis- 
 embarking, the siege began. AV^hile the rest of the army 
 was so employed. Sir Arthur, with the division of which he 
 was at the head, moved into the interior ; and on the 29th 
 of August, engaged and defeated a considerable force near 
 the little town of Kioge. Fifteen hundred prisoners and 
 ten pieces of cannon were the fruits of this victory,
 
 1807.] VICTORY AT KEOGE. 59 
 
 which effectually hindered the population from lising, and 
 placed the whole Island at the mercy of the invaders. And 
 rigidly and strictly was discipline preserved by them. 
 Wherever he went Sir Arthur placed guards over the 
 houses ; and hindered, as far as it was possible so to do, all 
 plunder and brigandage. Once, and only once, marauders 
 got the start of him ; but the misfortune served only the 
 more to bring his noble qualities into light. " Upon my 
 march from Kioge," he wrote to the Countess of Holstein, 
 " towards this part of the country, I heard with the 
 greatest concern that a detachment of British troops, which 
 had pursued the enemy on the side of Valve Slot Eye, had 
 committed excesses in the convent, from which your Hoyal 
 Highness and your servants had suffei'ed. I cannot suffi- 
 ciently express my concern at the occurrence of this event, 
 respecting which I find that your servants had already had 
 some communication with the officers of the regiment to 
 which the men belong who have been guilty of these ex- 
 cesses. The zealous desire of these officers to remove the 
 disgrace which these offences have brought upon their regi- 
 ment has anticipated my wishes, and they last night sent me 
 all the articles which had been taken from your Highness's 
 servants, of which they gave the officers a list. I now send 
 those articles, and entreat your Highness to pardon those 
 excesses, in consideration of the ignorance of the soldiers 
 that your Highness resided at Valve Slot Rye, and of the 
 circumstances by which they were produced. Those soldiers 
 were engaged in the pursuit of a defeated enemy, who made 
 some attempt to rally, and fired from the houses and build- 
 ings in your Highness's neighbourhood." 
 
 We are not surprised to find an officer, who, at the head 
 of an invading force, could thus act, receiving from people 
 of the country such communications as the following : — • 
 
 " Thullargshoim, 4th Sept., 1807. 
 " Sir, 
 
 " It is an obligation to me to thank you, most sin- 
 cerely and of my heart, for the protection you have given me 
 in these days your troops have laid in my neighbourhood.
 
 60 COUXTESS OF HOLSTEIN. [ISOr 
 
 I can never forget it ; I sliall still remember it ; and I beg 
 you most humbly that you never will withdraw me this pro- 
 tection so long your troops are staying here ; it will still be a 
 comfort to me and family, in letting us live in rest and se- 
 curity. I cannot finish this without giving the best testi- 
 mony to the people that you have given me to guard. They 
 have always behaved there as people belonging to a great and 
 genei'ous nation. 
 
 " Most humbly, &c., 
 
 " ToNNEGEN." 
 
 The Countess of Holstein writes still more gratefully : 
 
 " Lethrobourg, Sept. 5th, 1807. 
 
 " In presenting to Mons. le Chevalier de Wellesley my ac- 
 knowledgments I take the libertj' of offering some fruit, only 
 regretting that it is not more worthy of his acceptance. 
 
 " A Lieutenant Rila, of the dragoons, has just arrived in 
 search of the Chevalier, that he might pray him to set at 
 liberty certain prisoners. Not finding his Excellency here, 
 he has charged me to become a suitor for these unfortunate 
 men in his room ; and I send their names in the hope that, 
 looking to the noble and benevolent character of the Cheva- 
 lier de Wellcsley, I shall not ask in vain. With sentiments 
 of the most distinguished regard, I subscribe myself 
 
 " S. C. E. COMTESSE DE HoLSTEIX."
 
 f.l 
 
 CHAPTER T. 
 
 RETURK TO CIVIL EMPLOYMENT BEGINNING OF THE 
 
 PENINSULAR WAR. 
 
 Such was Major-general Sir Arthur "Wellesley command- 
 ing a division in Lord Cathcart's army ; the same strict 
 disciplinarian as when warring on his own account in 
 the Carnatic, the same that we afterwards find him when 
 freeing the nations of the Peninsula, pursuing the in- 
 vaders into their own country, and marching upon Paris. 
 "Wherever his influence extended, the troops were imder 
 rigid control. Stuhhorn and resolute in the day of battle, 
 they were gentle in their bearing towards the peaceful inha- 
 bitants, who not unfrequently came to them for protection 
 against the outrages of stragglers from their own armies. 
 It will be long before Denmark can forget, she has by this 
 time, I doubt not, forgiven, the wrong which a stern neces- 
 sity compelled England to put upon her. But as often as, 
 in her history, the proceedings of 1807 are referred to, the 
 name of Arthur Wellesley will be mentioned, not only with 
 respect, as that of a gallant and successful soldier, but with 
 gratitude and veneration, because he was a just and generous 
 man. 
 
 One of the last acts of Sir Arthur in this brief campaign 
 was to obtain leave for the prisoners whom he had taken at 
 the battle of Keoge to return on parole to their own homes. 
 He waited after this to conduct the negotiations for the 
 surrender of the fleet, and then lamenting the outrages teat 
 followed, the destruction of the dockyards and the burn-
 
 62 PROJECTS OF WAR IN SOUTH AMERICA. [1807. 
 
 ing down of a considerable portion of the city, he took his 
 passage in the frigate which carried the despatches, and 
 returned home. 
 
 He reached London on the 10th of September, and 
 resumed at once, from his house in Harley Street, the duties 
 of Cliief Secretary for Ireland. Among his letters I find 
 one addressed, on the 1st of October, to the Duke of Eich- 
 mond, in which reasons are assigned why the city and 
 county of Limerick should not be brought under the opera- 
 tion of the Insurrection Act ; and on the 14th he is in Dub- 
 lin, deep in Irish affairs. Indeed it is impossible to discover 
 Irom what he has left on record, that during these three 
 months of active warfare his thoughts were ever diverted 
 for a moment from the channel of civil administration. But 
 so it was with him under all circumstances. There never lived 
 a man who more entirely than he possessed the facidty of 
 abstracting his attention from one subject and applying it 
 to another. Indeed it seemed as if in that capacious mind 
 there were room enough for any number of arguments 
 at the same time, each of which, as occasion required, 
 could be brought forward, or thrust into the back-ground, 
 without sustaining by the process any damage in logical 
 distinctness. 
 
 Among other matters referred to him for consideration 
 at this time, was a project entertained by the Cabinet of 
 avenging the disaster of Buenos Ayres by the conquest of 
 Spanish America. As was his custom on all important 
 occasions, he handled the subject in elaborate minutes, of 
 which not fewer than 14 remain among his papers. The 
 first is dated in N'ovember, 1806, the last in June, 1808. They 
 are very remarkable documents, evincing not only a thorough 
 knowledge of the art of war, but showing that before he 
 began to write, he had mastered the geography of the pro- 
 posed seat of operations, and was thoroughly acquainted 
 with its resources, civil as well as military. Had his plans 
 been carried into effect, there is no telling Avhat changes 
 might have been brought about in the condition of the new 
 world. But before any decided steps could be taken in that 
 direction, a wider field of enterprise presented itself on Avhich
 
 1S08.] SPAIN IN INSUEEECTION. 63 
 
 lie entered, and out of which he came, as a politician and 
 a military commander, the foremost man in Europe. 
 
 The story has been elsewhere told at length of the out- 
 rages and wrongs which drove the Spanish and Portuguese 
 people into a war of extermination with France. I am not 
 going to repeat that story now, my purpose being sufficient- 
 ly served when I state, that just as the preparations of the 
 British Grovernment were complete, and the South American 
 expedition was about to sail, tidings arrived from the Pen- 
 insula which caused an immediate abandonment of the 
 enterprise. One French army had traversed the districts 
 which lie between the Bidassoa and the Douro, and was 
 marching upon Lisbon. Another, after occupying Madrid, 
 and removing Charles the 6th and his family to Bayonne, 
 had proclaimed Joseph Buonaparte King of Spain. Span- 
 iards and Portuguese, but particularly Spaniards, ran every- 
 where to arms, in order to vindicate the honour of their 
 country, and England was invited by delegates from various 
 provinces to help the people in the contest in which they 
 had embarked. It has been said that so long before as 
 1805, when the capitulation of 'Ulm was communicated to 
 him, Mr Pitt, entertaining at AValmer Castle a party of 
 statesmen and military officers, of whom Sir Arthur Wel- 
 lesley was one, foretold this outbreak. " Our last hope of 
 resistance to Buonaparte is gone," exclaimed one of the 
 guests. "By no means," was Pitt's reply, "we shall have 
 another European coalition against him before long, and 
 Spain will take the lead in it." Then observing that the 
 remark fell dead upon those around him, he went on to say, 
 " I tell you that Spain is the first continental nation which 
 will involve him in a war of partisans. Her nobles are de- 
 based and her Government wretched, but the people still 
 retain their sense of honour and their sobi'iety. Buona- 
 parte will endeavour to tread out these feelings, because 
 they are incompatible with his designs, and I look to that 
 attempt for kindling the sort of war which will not cease 
 till he is destroyed." 
 
 Whether this prediction was really vittered or not, the 
 case fell out exactly as here described. It was not the
 
 64 STATE OF PORTUGAL. [1808. 
 
 Spanish Government which opposed itself to France, nor 
 the high spirit of the Spanish nobles -which supplied the 
 place of a government. The Spanish people rose of their 
 own accord, finding leaders where they could, and rushed 
 into that war of partisans for which the nature of their 
 country eminently fitted them. The Portuguese followed 
 the example, and both appealed to England for support. 
 The appeal was not made in vain. Every Spaniard and 
 Portuguese, who presented himself as an emissary of the 
 revolt, was well received by the English Government ; and 
 arms, ammunitioji, clothing, and even money, were lavished 
 upon men, of whom very many took care that these good 
 things should not pass out of their hands again except 
 with profit to themselves. Nor was this heedless extrava- 
 gance considered to be unwise either in or out of the 
 British Pai'liament. The spectacle of a nation rising in 
 its might took captive the imaginations of all classes of 
 Englishmen. "Whatever the Minister proposed in aid of 
 the Spanish malcontents, was assented to with acclamation. 
 Indeed, the Duke of Portland and his colleagiies were found 
 fault with only because they did not go as far as the nation 
 desired in sustaining a cause so glorious. 
 
 The condition of Portugal at this moment, though bad 
 enough, was probably considered by the mere politician to 
 be less desperate than tliat of Spain. The King, before he 
 emigrated with his family to Brazil, had pi-ovided for the 
 administration of aftairs during his absence. Certain grandees 
 of the kingdom, including Count Souza and the Bishop of 
 Oporto, were appointed Regents, and every act performed 
 by the Regency was to be regarded as emanating from the 
 Crown. No provision of the sort was made or could be 
 made in Spain. It was only after he reached Bayonne 
 that Ferdinand VII. became aware of the destiny which 
 awaited him ; and the formal deed of abdication which he 
 executed there, transferred to Joseph Buonaparte whatever 
 right of government the retiring monarch could convey. 
 AV^hcn Spain rose therefore against the intruder, she rose 
 against the only Government then in existence ; and her 
 people accepted, what indeed came alone within their reach,
 
 1808.] THE JUNTAS. 65 
 
 the STvay of sucli persons as by social positiou or energy of 
 character seemed justified in taking the lead in a great 
 emergency. 
 
 Spain was, in former times, a constitutional country. 
 Each province had its Junta or deliberative body, elected 
 like the members of our own House of Commons, to repre- 
 sent the people in Parliament. When the Bourbons came, 
 they set aside these ancient usages, and now nothing but the 
 tradition of them remained. Tradition however, in such a 
 crisis, is of inestimable value, and the absence of a court was 
 atoned for, as if instinctively, by calling into operation these 
 dormant legislative bodies. Juntas arose, no one could tell 
 how, in every province. Arragon, Castile, Catalonia, Es- 
 tremadura, Galicia, Andalusia, eacb had its own, which 
 issued decrees in full assurance that they would be respected 
 and obeyed by all, except the adherents of the usurper. It 
 was with these Juntas that the English Government com- 
 municated in Spain, as they did with the Eegency in Portu- 
 gal. And till a closer experience proved how little they 
 could be trusted, the English Government reposed in their 
 wisdom and patriotism unbounded confidence. 
 
 The force intended for the conquest of Spanish America 
 was assembled at this time in Cork. The ships were in the 
 harbour ready to receive the men, and Sir Arthur Wellesley 
 was nominated to the command. But so novel an aspect of 
 aff"air3 in Europe induced the Government to pause before 
 proceeding further with the enterprise ; and Sir Arthur was 
 invited to come over, and give them the benefit of his advice. 
 "When he arrived in London, he found the Ministers unde- 
 cided whether it woiild be judicious to land a British soldier 
 in the Peninsula at all. They had been assured by the 
 representatives of the Spanish Juntas that Spain stood in no 
 need of men ; that there were Spaniards enough, provided 
 arms and ammunition were supplied them, to drive the in- 
 vaders beyond the Pyrenees. This was a comfortable 
 doctrine, to which the Cabinet lent a willing ear, but Sir 
 Arthur protested against it. He spoke from his own ex- 
 perience in India of the hopelessness of opposing undisci- 
 plined levies to regular troops, and so far prevailed, that it 
 
 5
 
 66 MR JOHN WILSON CROKER. [1808. 
 
 was settled to attempt with the corps already collected in 
 Ireland, a diversion in favour of the Peninsular patriots. It 
 was impossible to avoid offering the command of that corps 
 to Sir Arthur, but the offer was clogged with conditions, 
 which rendered the acceptance inconvenient if not disagree- 
 able. They insisted on retaining his services in Ireland, 
 and that he should again discharge the duties of his office 
 by deputy. That they intended and desired him to refuse 
 the command, there can be little doubt ; but he was too 
 much in earnest to be deterred by trifles. In less than four- 
 and-twenty hours the whole was settled. 
 
 It was during this visit to London that the tete-a-tete 
 conversation occurred, between Sir Arthur and Mr John 
 Wilson Croker, of which the latter gives an account in the 
 Quarterly Eeview. They had become acquainted in Dublin, 
 where Mr Croker's talents and success at the bar won for 
 him admittance into the best society ; and there the founda- 
 tions were laid of an intimacy which ceased only on Mr 
 Croker's death. Sir Arthur had invited him to dine in 
 Harley- street. He was the only guest, and after the ladies 
 had withdrawn, Mr Croker observing that his host was 
 silent, asked him what he was thinking about. Sir Arthur 
 replied, " To tell you the truth, I was thinking of the French 
 whom I am going to fight. I have never seen them since 
 the campaign in Flanders, when they were already capital 
 soldiers, and a dozen years of successes must have made 
 them still better ; they have beaten all the world, and are 
 supposed to be invincible. They have besides, it seems, a 
 new system, which has out-manoeuvred and overwhelmed all 
 the armies of Europe ; but no matter, my die is cast. They 
 may overwhelm, but I don't think they will out-manoeuvre 
 me. In the first place, I am not afraid of them, as every- 
 body else seems to be ; and, secondly, if what I hear of their 
 system of manoeuvring be true, I think it a false one against 
 troops steady enough, as I hope mine are, to receive them 
 with the bayonet. I suspect that half the continental 
 armies were more than half beaten before the battle began. 
 I, at least, will not be frightened beforehand." 
 
 I have no doubt whatever that this reported conversation
 
 1808.] FRENCH AND ENGLISH TACTICS, 67 
 
 is substantially correct. I suspect, however, that Mr 
 Croker's memory Avas a little at fault in regard to details, 
 for the phraseology is not the Duke's, and the inferences to 
 "which it leads would be unsound. The Duke knew better 
 than most men that the only difference then between French 
 and English tactics was this, that W'hereas the French at- 
 tacked in column, the English always attacked in line ; and 
 that the real resistance to an attack by troops waiting for 
 their adversaries in line comes from tlie volume of fire with 
 Avhich the column is received. All armies, French as well as 
 English, Russian, German, and Italian, defend a position in 
 line, provided the assailants give them time to deploy. 
 Eut the English alone have hitherto attacked in line, though 
 I believe that the armies of other nations are beginning in 
 this respect to follow their example. The flourish about 
 receiving the French with the bayonet, and the steadiness 
 required to do so, was not, I will venture to say. Sir Arthur 
 "Wellesley's, but Mr Croker's flourish. 
 
 Having settled his business in London, and received his 
 final letter of instructions, Sir Arthur Wellesley set off for 
 Cork, where his small and ill-appointed corps had already 
 been embarked. It consisted on paper of lOlG officers and 
 non-commissioned oflicers, 229 drummers and trumpeters, 
 9505 rank and file, and 215 troop horses. There were 12 
 pieces of cannon attached to that corps, not one of them 
 horsed. The cavalry, effective and non-effective, counted 
 only 346 sabres, and one ofiicer of engineers with 11 arti- 
 ficers made up the sum of trained workmen at the General's 
 disposal. The staff which attended him consisted of high- 
 spirited young gentlemen not one of whom had any ex- 
 perience of war ; he had neither a commissariat nor a 
 medical establishment to trust to ; and a veteran battalion, 
 while it seemed to swell his numbers, served rather to 
 weaken than to strengthen his hands. Hence, after making 
 necessary deductions, he found that the utmost force which 
 he could hope to bring into line would hardly exceed 8000 
 men. " It certainly was a shabby enough start," he used 
 to say in after-years, " but it was quite of a piece with our 
 military policy at the time. The Government trusted me, 
 
 5*
 
 68 SAILS FROM CORK. [1803. 
 
 I believe, as much as it trusted anybody, but it had no great 
 faith even in me, as yet, and dreaded nothing so much as 
 throwing a large army ashore on the Continent under the 
 command of a British officer. I must admit, however, that 
 the men were admirable, and admirably drilled. All that 
 they wanted was experience, and that they got by degrees." 
 
 Having seen his troops on board, and fixed a rendezvous 
 with the Commodore, Sir Arthur Wellesley, leaving the fleet 
 behind, set off in the Crocodile frigate for Corunna. He 
 had been desired to communicate with the Junta of Galicia 
 under the persuasion that the French had already sustained 
 a defeat, and that little more was necessary to insure the 
 independence of Spain than that the passes of the Pyrenees 
 should be occupied. But on his arrival at Corunna he 
 found that, with vast enthusiasm of speech, there was no 
 vigour of action iu the ruling body. His proffered assistance 
 ia men was declined ; so after landing stores and money for 
 the use of the patriots, he put to sea again. He rejoined 
 the fleet at Cape Finisterre, where he held a brief confer- 
 ence with the Admiral, Sir Pulteney Malcolm, after Avhich 
 he again took the lead, and found in Mondego Bay, on the 
 coast of Portugal, what appeared to him a convenient place 
 of disembarkation. 
 
 The British Government, when it sent out this handful of 
 men from Cork, had formed no specific plans of its own ; it 
 could not therefore give to the leader of the expedition any 
 specific instructions. But certain contingencies were as- 
 sumed as of possible occurrence, and certain eventualities 
 coincident with these contingencies were suggested. Be- 
 yond this the Cabinet had not • ventured to go, and Sir 
 Arthur felt on quitting Cape Finisterre that he possessed, 
 what above all things he most desired, entire liberty of 
 action. 
 
 The Crocodile's anchor was scarcely over the side in Mon- 
 dego Bay, ere this pleasant delusion vanished. Fresh letters 
 of instruction greeted him, wherein he was informed that 
 His Majesty's Government had enlarged its views, and that 
 the force under his command was to be considered as the 
 mere advanced guard of a larger army. From various quarters,
 
 1808.] IN MOXDEGO BAY. 69 
 
 from Gribi'altar, from Sweden, from England, fresh troops 
 were coming, -n-hich, when united, would make up 30,000 
 men. In this army Sir iVrthur AVellesley was to serve as 
 the junior of six generals of division. Lieutenant-Gener- 
 al Sir Hugh Dalrymple, Grovernor of Gibraltar, was to 
 command in chief. Lieutenant-General Sir Harry Burrard 
 was to be second in command; and Lieutenant- Generals Sir 
 John Moore, the Hon. Alexander Hope, Mackenzie Fra- 
 ser, and Lord Paget, were all, in command of their respective 
 divisions, to take precedence of Sir Arthur AVellesley. It 
 is not to be supposed that such a communication could be 
 at all agreeable to him who was the object of it. He took 
 it, however, Avith perfect good humour, as he took every an- 
 nouncement of the will of the Government which he served ; 
 and wovild not allow it to interfere with the arrangements 
 which he had already made. " All that I can say on the 
 subject," he wrote in reply to Lord Castlereagh, " is that 
 whether I am to command the army or not, or even to quit 
 it, I shall do my best to insure success, and you may depend 
 upon it that I shall not hurry the operations, or commence 
 them one moment sooner than they ought to be commenced, 
 in order that I may acquire the credit of success." 
 
 Among other contingencies touched upon in the original 
 letter of instructions, was a carrpaign in Portugal, of which 
 the river Tagus might be the base. It was essential in his 
 opinion to the success of that campaign, that as soon as 
 possible a landing should be effected, and he waited only the 
 coming in of the fleet to commence that opei-ation. The 
 fleet arrived on the last day of July, and the disembarkation 
 began on the first of August. But the means of effecting 
 that difficult pui'pose were most inadequate, and a succession 
 of heavy gales had left such a surf upon the shore, that the 
 ordinary ship's boats ran great risk of being staved, as one 
 by one they plunged into it. Pive days were thus consumed 
 in doing that which, had proper equipments been provided, 
 ought to have been done in one. But the evil was in a 
 great degree compensated by the unexpected arrival, on the 
 6th, of General Spencer, with a reinforcement of three or 
 four thousand men. On the 7th, therefore, Avhen he passed
 
 70 TROOPS LANDED. [1808. 
 
 his army in review, Sir Arthur found that 12,000 excellent 
 infantry were at his disposal, and that his cavalry and artil- 
 lery, though few in number, were, in all that affected the 
 equipment and physique of the men, excellent. 
 
 An army, to be effective, must, however, consist of more 
 than men. Horses are needed to drag guns ; mules or 
 waggons to transport stores ; cattle to supply fresh meat ; 
 and means of transport for tents and necessary baggage. All 
 these Sir Arthur AVellesley found himself obliged to procure 
 through the instrumentality of a staff to which work of 
 this kind was entirely new. He had, indeed, on his passage 
 to IMondego called at Oporto, and arranged there with tlie 
 Bishop for a small supply of what was most urgently 
 needed. But he learned at the same time that effective co- 
 operation from the Portuguese themselves was out of the 
 question. Of regular troops there were said to be about 
 8000, under General don Bernardo Prere, at Lyria. Bands 
 of peasants, the Bishop stated, were gathering round that 
 nucleus ; but " the peasants," Sir Arthur writes in a letter 
 to Lord Castlereagh, " have, I believe, no arms, but pikes, 
 and those called regular infantry arc composed of individuals 
 belonging to the different corps of the Portuguese army." 
 Prom a force so constituted, little support could be expect- 
 ed, and little was giveii. General Prere, after a good deal 
 of consultation and discussion, lent Sir Arthur 1400 of his 
 infantry and 250 of his cavalry, and stood apart with the re- 
 sidue to protect, as he stated, the communications of the 
 English with the coast, after their advance should have 
 begun. 
 
 There were at this time, it was calculated, about 20,000 
 Prench troops in Portugal. In point of fact, there were 
 many more, because the embarkation returns made out some 
 weeks subsequently, showed, that upwards of 26,000 had 
 survived the casualties of the campaign. Of these, five or 
 six thousand were in Alentejo, under General Loison. Pive 
 thousand more, under General De la Bordc, watched the 
 English from the hills of Cintra ; and the rest, after affording 
 garrisons to Almeida and to the forts upon the Tagua, were 
 with Junot himself in Lisbon. It was the obvious policy of
 
 1808.] ADVANCED SENTEIES IX VIEW. 71 
 
 the English Greneral to strike at the nearest of these corps, 
 before it could be joined by the rest : it was equally the 
 policy of General De la Borde to avoid an action, keeping 
 the invaders at the same time in check. The former sought to 
 gain his end by marching along the coast, instead of advanc- 
 ing, as he was expected to do, direct upon Cintra ; the lat- 
 ter, who was moving upon Lyria, intending to form a junction 
 there with Loison, found himself thwarted, and halted at Eo- 
 li^a. These events occurred during the 9th and 10th, for the 
 morning of the 9th had dawned before Sir Arthur was in a 
 condition to quit his bivouac ; and at two places, called Alco- 
 ba9a and Obidos, the advanced sentries of the hostile armies 
 came for the first time in view. The Prench felt that they 
 were not strong enough to hold both posts ; they retired, 
 therefore, in the night between the 13th and 14th from 
 Alcoba9a, and on the 15th made their first acquaintance with 
 the ring of English rifles. Two companies from the 95th 
 Rifle Brigade and the 60th were directed to dislodge the 
 enemy from Obidos, and the following are the terms in 
 which Sir Arthur describes the manner in which they did 
 their work. " We had yesterday," his letter is dated the 
 16th, " a little affair of advanced posts, brought on by the 
 over-eagerness of the riflemen in pursuit of an enemy's 
 picquet, in which we lost Lieutenant Bunbury of the 95th 
 killed, and Pakenham slightly wounded ; and some men of 
 the 95th and 60th. The troops behaved remarkably well, 
 but not with great prudence."
 
 72 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 ROLI9A AND YIMEIRO RETURNS HOME. 
 
 The ring of English rifles and Erencli musketry, in and 
 about Obidos, Tvill long be remembered as the opening of a 
 stern drama which occupied the attention of Europe unin- 
 termittingly during six long years. There followed on the 
 17th the battle of Eolica, which, considered with reference 
 to the numbers engaged, deserves to be spoken of as a mere 
 affair ; but which, because of the obstinate valour displayed 
 on both sides, and the moral effect produced by it, holds a 
 conspicuous place in the history of the war in the Penin- 
 sula. General De la Borde occupied on that occasion an 
 elevated plateau, of which the confoi-mation Avas such that it 
 could be turned only by a circuitous march, while its ap- 
 proaches in front were through two steep and narrow defiles. 
 He held it with 5000 infantry, 500 cavalry, and 5 guns, and 
 was attacked by 13,700 infantry, 650 cavalry, and 12 guils. 
 De la Borde fought for two objects ; first, in the hope that 
 before the English could dislodge him, General Loison, of 
 whose approach he was aware, would come up ; and next, 
 failing tlia", contingency, in the confident expectation that, 
 after inflicting severe loss upon the assailants, he should 
 himself be able to get away comparatively unharmed. There 
 is no rule in the art of war which condemned these expect- 
 ations, yet they came to nothing. Sir Arthur set aside the 
 first by attacking in front, instead of waiting for the com- 
 pk^tion of his flank movements ; and he dissipated the last by 
 the vigour with which the attack was pushed. Though
 
 1808.] BATTLE OF ROLigA. 73 
 
 unable to bring more than 4000 infantry at a time into ac- 
 tion, be carried all before bim. Tbe Frencb offered a stout 
 resistance ; tbey bad been taugbt to despise tbe Englisb as 
 soldiers, and waited for tbem till tbe bayonets well nigb 
 crossed. But in spite of tbeir bravery and tbe skill of tbeir 
 leader, wbo, wounded early in tbe day, never quitted bis 
 saddle, tbey were driven from one alignment after anotber, 
 and finally retreated under cover of tbeir cavalry, leaving 600 
 killed and wounded, and tbree of tbeir guns, upon tbe field. 
 Of tbe Englisbmen wbo took part in tbe battle of E-oli9a 
 few now survive, and tbese saw, in after-years, many a 
 sterner encounter ; yet tbe impression made upon tbem by 
 wbat passed on tbat memorable l7tb of August, never grew 
 faint. It is as vivid at tbe moment of my writing, as wbeu 
 the sbouts of tbe combatants rang more tban balf a century 
 ago in tbeir ears. Tbis is not to be wondered at. Putting 
 aside tbe Brigadiers and a few otber officers of rank, not a 
 man in that little army bad ever before come under fire ; 
 while all, without exception, witnessed then, for tbe first time, 
 bow tbeir chief bore himself in tbe hour of danger. He is 
 described by such as bad the best means of observation, to 
 have been calm, self-possessed, and cheerful tbrougbout, Tbe 
 16tb was devoted to such preparations as tbe eve of a battle 
 required. He personally reconnoitred tbe enemy's position ; 
 personally explained to eacb leader of a column wbat be was 
 expected to do ; showed the points on which tbey were all 
 severally to move, and satisfied himself that his orders were 
 un'derstood. He dined at bis usual hour, and chatted with 
 tbe gentlemen of bis staif, and the guests invited to meet 
 tbem, as if nothing extraordinary were going to happen ; and 
 when tbe morrow came be was early in the saddle, shaved and 
 dressed with tbe utmost regard to neatness. And here I 
 may as well observe in passing tbat such was bis unvarying 
 custom. At whatever hour he rose, however tbe coming 
 day was to be spent, be allowed nothing to interfere with this 
 minute attention to his toilet, which, free from the most 
 distant approach to foppishness, early got for bim the sobri- 
 quet of the Beau. His greetings to all wbo encountered 
 bim, as he rode along tbe line, were kindly and cheerful,
 
 74 SIR ARTHUR IX THE BATTLE. [1808. 
 
 He spoke a few words to Fergusson and Bowes, who com- 
 manded the columns appointed to turn the enemy's right and 
 left, and again pointed out the exact spots, on reaching which 
 they were to change their line of march. This done he 
 waited till they were seen to make the turn, and then his 
 skirmishers ran out. While these drove in the French 
 pickets, he himself rode behind the supports, and by and by, 
 when the proper moment came, said in a quiet tone to one 
 of his staff, " Now you may tell Crawford and Nightingale to 
 go on." From the spot where these words were uttered, he 
 surveyed the whole field, and dealt out reinforcements to the 
 troops which were struggling in the defiles, as a skilful 
 dealer distributes his cards at a game of whist. And finally, 
 when he saw the plateau crowned, he put spurs to his horse, 
 galloped to the summit, and made such fresh dispositions aa 
 the circumstances required. The perfect coolness with which 
 all this was done, his unfailing good humour, the apparent 
 indifference with which he regarded mistakes, taking care 
 however to correct them, inspired all who were at hand to 
 witness his proceedings, with admiration. It may be truly 
 said that on that day the ofiicers and men of the British 
 army gave him their entire confidence, and we know that 
 they never afterwards withdrew it, even partially. The bat- 
 tle of Eoli9a lasted a long time. It might be six or seven 
 in the morning when the English began to move ; it was 
 three or four in the afternoon before the firing ceased. The 
 men, enfeebled by confinement on board of ship, were quite 
 knocked up, and the Artillery horses, all in wretched condi- 
 tion, could with difficulty drag the guns. As to the cavalry, 
 it never struck a blow. The nature of the country, rugged 
 and broken, kept horsemen in the rear, till the plateau was 
 won ; and when they arrived on the table-land, they found 
 themselves inferior in every respect to the French, No 
 pursuit was therefore attempted, but on the ground which 
 they had won the troops lay down and slept. 
 
 It is necessary to bear in mind that Sir Arthur laboured 
 at this time under great disadvantages. He had ceased to 
 be the commander-in-chief of an army, and had become the 
 mere leader of an advanced guard. As such he had done
 
 1808.] AT VIMEIRO. 75 
 
 more than most men would have attempted. jS'ot satisfied 
 with making good his own landing, he had fought a success- 
 ful battle, and ensured thereby a safe debarkation for tlie 
 corps which were to follow. Tidings of the approach of 
 several of these had already reached him. G-eneral Anstru- 
 ther with 3000 or 4000 men was in the Tagus. Sir John 
 Moore with 10,000 was reported to be in the offing, and 
 Lieutenant- General Sir Harry Burrard might from hour to 
 hour be expected. If all this intelligence, important as it 
 was, had been kept back for four-and-twenty hours, Sir Ar- 
 thur would have marched on the 18th to Torres Vedras, and 
 cut off the communication of De la Borde ana Loison 
 with Lisbon. Under existing circumstances he felt himself 
 constrained to desist from an operation which, however it 
 might have redounded to his own honour, could not fail more 
 or less to embarrass those, to whom the management of the 
 campaign had been entrusted. He contented himself there- 
 fore with putting upon paper his own views of what ought 
 to be done, and led his corps to Yimeiro, that it might be at 
 hand to protect the disembarkation of Anstruther's brigade, 
 and to receive Sir Harry Burrard when he should arrive. 
 
 Sir Arthur proposed that while the main body of the 
 army, now raised by the arrival of Anstruther to 17,000 men, 
 marched by the coast road, round Torres Vedras to Mafra, 
 Sir John Moore should land at the mouth of the Mondego, 
 and push direct for Santarem. He showed that this double 
 movement would at once turn the enemy's position in front 
 of Lisbon, and cut them off from the only line of retreat 
 upon the road to Elvas. Nor, as he personally explained to 
 Sir Harry Burrard, whom he visited on the 20th on 
 board the frigate, would the operation be attended by any 
 of the inconveniences incident under common circumstances 
 to movements on double lines. Without Sir John Moore 
 Sir Harry was superior to anything that Junot could hope 
 to bring against him. There was no good reason, therefore, 
 why he should hesitate to act on the offensive, particularly 
 when he had it in his power to place a strong corps in the 
 enemy's rear. But to such reasoning Sir Harry was deaf. 
 He did not come to run any risks. He considered a flank
 
 Ye THE BATTLE. [1808. 
 
 marcli by a narrow coast road to be dangerous, and preferred 
 waiting for Sir John Moore, whom he had directed to steer 
 for the Tagus. Except when specially called upon so to do, 
 Sir Arthur never entered into arguments with his superiors ; 
 he returned, therefore, to the camj) at A^imeiro and cancelled 
 the order which had already been issued for moving at day- 
 light on the morrow. 
 
 Sir Arthur went to bed not entirely pleased, and had 
 slept some hours when a troop serjeant-major of the 21st 
 Light Dragoons was brought by an aide-de-camp to his bed- 
 side. The man was a German. His name was Landsheit, 
 and the reader who is curious to know more about him will 
 find his story told at length in a volume entitled " The Huz- 
 zar." Landsheit spoke English but imperfectly, and seemed to 
 Sir Arthur to be a good deal agitated, an imputation which 
 the gallant veteran put from him ever after with high dis- 
 dain. But agitated or calm, he reported, that patrolling to 
 the front he had encountered a French scouting party, and 
 had reason to believe that the enemy were coming on to the 
 attack, Eor this, as for every other emergency, Sir Arthur 
 was prepared. His position, though not in a military point 
 of view strong, was sufficiently so to give him confidence, 
 and his outposts were all so placed that surprise Avas im- 
 possible. He dismissed Landsheit, therefore, with a kindly 
 word, laid his head upon the pillow again, and went to sleep. 
 He was up before dawn, and had all his people under arms. 
 In less than an hour the battle began. 
 
 How the enemy came on and were repulsed, with what 
 skill Sir Arthur handled his troops in this his first defensive 
 action, and how anxious he was to follow up the victory, 
 these matters are told at length elsewhere. But power had at 
 this time departed from him. Sir Harry Burrard reached 
 the ground while the battle was still raging, and stopped 
 the pursuit, which would have converted the retreat into a 
 rout. The enemy were in consequence enabled to reunite 
 on strong grouu([ at Torres A'^edras, while the English stood 
 still. On the 22nd, however, Sir Harry consented to move, 
 and just then a second commander-in-chief arrived to super- 
 sede him. Sir Hugh Dalrymple became now the mo\ing
 
 ISOS.] HIS LETTER TO LORD CASTLEREAGII. 77 
 
 spirit in the camp, and the camp at once acknowledged hia 
 influence. On the 23rd Greneral Kellerman came in from 
 the liead-quarters of the French army, with proposals to 
 conclude an armistice as a step preliminary to capitula- 
 tion. The following are the terms in which Sir Arthur 
 speaks of these proceedings. His letter is addressed to Lord 
 Castlereagh : — 
 
 " 23rd April, 1S08. 
 
 " My dear Lord, 
 
 " Ton will have heard that one of the consequences of 
 our victory of the 21st has been an agreement to suspend 
 hostilities between the French and us, preparatory to the 
 negotiation of a convention for the evacuation of Portugal 
 by the French. Although my name is affixed to this instru- 
 ment I beg that you will not believe tliat I negotiated it, 
 that I approve of it, or that I had any hand in wording it. It 
 was negotiated by the Greneral himself in my presence and 
 that of Sir Harry Burrard ; and after it had been drawn out 
 by Kellerman himself, Sir Hugh Dalrymple desired me to 
 sign it. I object to its verbiage ; I object to an indefinite 
 suspension of hostilities ; it ought to have been for 48 hours 
 only. As it is now, the French will have 48 hours to pre- 
 pare for their defence, after Sir Hugh will put an end to 
 the suspension. 
 
 " I approve of allowing the French to evacviate Portugal, 
 more particularly as it appears to be deemed impossible to 
 move Sir John Moore's corps upon Santarem, so as to cut 
 off the retreat of the French towards Elvas. They could 
 establish themselves in Elvas, Fort La Lippe, Almeida, 
 and Peniche, which places we should be obliged either to 
 blockade or attack regularly in the worst season of the year 
 in Portugal, viz. the months of September and October ; 
 and the advance of the army into Spain would be delayed 
 until after that period. It is more for the advantage of the 
 general cause to have 30,000 Englishmen in Spain and 
 10,000 or 12,000 additional Frenchmen on the northern 
 frontier of Spain, than to have the Frenchmen in Portugal, 
 and the Englishmen employed in the blockade or siege of 
 strong places. If they are to be allowed to evacuate it
 
 78 SIR HUGH DALRYMrLE. [1808. 
 
 must be with their property, but I should have wished to 
 adopt some mode of making the French generals disgorge 
 the Church plate which they have stolen." 
 
 Such was the part, and the only part, played by Sir Ar- 
 thur Wellesley in transactions which were felt in England 
 to have robbed the victorious army of the legitimate fruits of 
 its valour. It went against the grain with him to affix his 
 signature even to the document which suspended hostilities. 
 Indeed his remark to friends who met him, as he returned 
 from executing that task, showed how little he had been 
 satisfied with it. " "What are we to do next ? Hunt red- 
 legged partridges, I suppose ; " an occupation to which the 
 young officers addicted themselves, the birds abounding in 
 the neighbourhood. But further than this he declined to 
 go. Indeed he was neither present when the Commissioners 
 signed the convention, nor did he become acquainted with 
 its contents till the whole were ratified. His manner, more- 
 over, though always respectful, became thenceforth distant 
 towards Sir Hugh Dalrymple, who was sharp-sighted enough 
 to understand that his subordinate, while obeying every 
 order, entertained no great respect for the source whence it 
 emanated. Sir Hugh accordingly endeavoured to get rid of 
 Sir Arthur, by proposing that he should travel to Madrid, 
 and arrange there a plan of combined operations with the 
 Spanish authorities. That proposal, of which he distrusted 
 the sincerity. Sir Arthur contrived to evade, taking care, how- 
 ever, to submit copies of the correspondence to Lord Castle- 
 reagh ; and the result was that to Lord William Bentinck, 
 and not to him, the Spanish mission was assigned. 
 
 From that day the tone and temper of the British camp un- 
 derwent a change. Everywhere, from generals commanding 
 divisions down to private sentinels, there was a sense of morti- 
 fication and well nigh of anger, which, had the command con- 
 tinued to rest where it then was, must have produced the worst 
 consequences. Sir Hugh Dalrymple was personally unpopular, 
 for which his mode of maintaining discipline sufficiently ac- 
 counted. He was habitually harsh, stern, and uncivil, both 
 to officers and men. But over and above this, there were
 
 1808.] EETURNS HOME. 79 
 
 causes of offence of a graver character and more deeply 
 seated. He had been thrust by court favour into the posi- 
 tion which he held, after something like a specific promise 
 given to Sir John Moore, that to him the command of the 
 army should be entrusted. This produced, as vras natural, 
 great indignation on the part of Moore's friends, and of dis- 
 quiet to Moore himself, "who had more than one confidential 
 conference with Sir Arthur upon the subject, and seems to 
 have been dissuaded by him from applying to be recalled. 
 The consequence was the total loss of harmony in a body, 
 which, till the arrival of the new commander-in-chief, had 
 deserved all the praises which Sir Arthur Wellesley bestowed 
 upon it. On one point, however, there was no difference of 
 opinion. The victor of Eoli9a and Vimeiro was held in the 
 greatest admiration and respect ; and of this a public mani- 
 festation was made as soon as it became known that he was 
 about to quit the camp. The officers commanding corps, 
 and the field-ofiicers of the army, agreed to present an ad- 
 dress to Sir Arthur, with a request that he would accept 
 at their hands a piece of plate. This was done on the 18th 
 September, through the medium of Colonel Kemmis, the 
 oldest field-oflacer among them, and accepted by Sir Arthur 
 with all the frankness which formed part of his nature. In 
 two days afterwards, having led hig division into Lisbon, and 
 seen the last of Junot's force on board of ship, he himself 
 quitted the seat of war and returned home.
 
 80 
 
 CHAPTEE YII. 
 
 IN LONDON IN DUBLIN IN COMMAND OF A NEW ARMY. 
 
 Sir Arthur landed at Plymoutli on the 4tli of October, 
 liis departure from Portugal having been precipitated by the 
 death of Mr Grant, the gentleman who, during his absence, 
 had undertaken to discharge the current business of the 
 Secretary's office in Ireland. He wrote immediately to the 
 Duke of Richmond, who was still Lord-Lieutenant, and an- 
 nounced his intention of presenting himself in Dublin with- 
 out delay ; but found it impossible to carry that design into 
 effect. For the public mind of England was in a state of 
 the highest excitement and indignation, on account of the 
 abortive conclusion, as it was called, of the campaign in 
 Portugal. The Convention of Cintra was stigmatized, not 
 as impolitic only, but iniquitous ; and all who were believed 
 to have taken any part in its management were denounced 
 as traitors. Among others Sir Arthur Wellesley came in 
 for no small share of blame. Dalrymple had managed to 
 convey an impression, that it was entirely by "Welleslcy's 
 advice that he had been guided in the matter, and Welles- 
 ley's signature attached to the preliminary treaty was ac- 
 cepted, by the newspapers and the people, as conclusive tes- 
 timony to the truth of the statement. One word from Sir 
 Arthur in public would have turned the tide and thrown the 
 obloquy upon others ; but with rare self-denial he refused to 
 speak or to write it. Still he found it necessary in defence 
 of his own character to remain some days in London, and 
 lie did not hesitate in his private correspondence to assign
 
 ISOS] MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM. 81 
 
 his reasons for so doing. Subjoined is a specimen of the 
 temper in which this correspondence was carried on. 
 
 To the Marquis of Buckingham, 
 
 " London, 11th Oct., 1808. 
 
 " My dear Lord, 
 
 " I assure you that I am most sensible of the friend- 
 ship and kindness of Lord Temple and yourself, of which I 
 hope to prove myself worthy. My situation is a very awk- 
 ward one, and I can relieve myself from it only by the result 
 of an inquiry. 
 
 " I am accused of being the adviser of persons over whom 
 I had no control and who refused to follow my advice, and 
 am made responsible for the acts of others. The real share 
 Avhich I have had in the transactions, — which, in my opinion, 
 have deservedly incurred the displeasure of the public, — 
 cannot be known till they will be inquired into ; and in the 
 mean time Sir Hugh Dalrymple has left the Grovernment and 
 the public so completely in the dark respecting the military 
 expediency of allowing the French to evacuate Portugal, that 
 that part of the question, which is the only one in which I 
 am involved, is as little understood as the rest. I know of 
 no immediate remedy for these difficulties of my situation, 
 excepting patience and temper, and I thank God that the 
 undeserved abuse which has been heaped upon me has not 
 altered the latter. 
 
 " In respect to the conduct of my case, I have determined 
 that I will publish nothing, nor will authorize the public- 
 ation of anything by others. This forbearance is particularly 
 incumbent upon me, as the whole subject must be inquired 
 into. I have also determined that I will not involve others 
 in scrapes because they differed in opinion with me pre- 
 viously to the 22nd of August, notwithstanding that differ- 
 ence of opinion and the alteration of system were the cause 
 of the military expediency of allowing the French to with- 
 draw from Portugal. I am afraid that I shall experience 
 some difficulty in carrying this intention into execution, be- 
 
 6
 
 82 LETTER TO SIR JOIIX MOORE. [1838. 
 
 cause the truth must come out ; but I will endeavour not to 
 bring others (viz. Sir Harry Burrard) into a scrape, not ouly 
 out of regard to him, but because I think it fatal to the 
 public service to expose officers to the treatment which I 
 have received, and to punishment for acting upon their own 
 military opinions, which opinions they may fairly entertain, 
 I have also determined to stand singly. There is nothing 
 in common between Sir Hugh Dalrymple aud me, or between 
 the Grovernment aud me, if the Government are supposed to 
 be involved in the question, and I shall act accordingly. 
 " I now enclose your Lordship the copy of a letter, &c." 
 
 Meanwhile, not less thoughtful of others than of himself, 
 he waited upon Lord Castlereagh, and informed him, both 
 as to the feelings of Sir John Moore and the estimation in 
 Avhich that officer was held by the army in Portugal. The 
 following letter to Sir John sufficiently explains the result 
 of the interview : — 
 
 To Lieut. -General Sir Jolui Moore, K.B. 
 
 " London, Sth Oct., 1808. 
 
 " My dear General, 
 
 " I arrived in London on Thursday, and I yesterday 
 took an opportunity of mentioning to Lord Castlereagh 
 what I told you I should, notwithstanding that I found, 
 upon my arrival in England, that the object I had in view 
 in conversing with you upon this subject at all had been 
 accomplished by your appointment to command the army. 
 I told Lord Castlereagh that you thought that Government 
 had not treated you well, and that you had considered it 
 incumbent upon you to express your sentiments upon that 
 treatment ; but that after you had done so, you had thought 
 no more of the matter, and that it would be found that you 
 would serve as cordially and as zealously in any situation in 
 which you might be employed as if nothing of the kind had 
 ever passed. 
 
 " Lord Castlereagh said tliat ho had never entertained 
 any doubt upon this subject ; and that after he had commu-
 
 1808.] AITOIXTED TO SERVE UNDER MOORE. 83 
 
 nicated to you the sentiments of the King's Government 
 \ipon what had passed, his only wish respecting you had 
 been to employ you in the manner in which you were most 
 likely to be useful to the country. 
 
 " I find that by the distribution I am placed under your 
 command, than which nothing can be more satisfactory to 
 me. I will go to Coruria immediately, where I hope to 
 find you. 
 
 " You'll have seen by the newspapers that the late trans- 
 actions in Portugal have made a stronger sensation here than 
 it was imagined they would, and I liave had what I think 
 more than my share of the blame. I suppose that there 
 must be an inquiry into the transactions ; and till that 
 takes place, I shall leave the public to find out the truth ia 
 the best way they can, and shall not adopt any illegitimate 
 mode of setting them right. In the mean time the abuse of 
 the news-writers of London will not deprive me of my tem- 
 per or my spirits, or of the zeal with which I will forward 
 every wish of yours. 
 
 " Ever, &c., 
 
 " Aethur Wellesley. 
 
 " Since writing the above I find that it will be necessary 
 that I should wait in England till Sir Hugh Dalrymple will 
 return, and it will be known at what time the inquiry will 
 be made into the late transactions in Portugal on which I 
 am to be examined. I will join you, however, the moment 
 I am set at liberty, for which I long most anxiously. 
 
 " I send a duplicate of this letter to Coruria." 
 
 It appears from this letter that Sir Arthur had accepted 
 a command in the army to the head of which Sir John 
 Moore was to be elevated. The following shows that he had 
 not forgotten another ofiicer, to whose merits he more than 
 once testified. It conveys, besides, such a true picture of 
 the entire disinterestedness of the writer, that I cannot refuse 
 to give it a place in these pages.
 
 84 GENERAL SPEXCER. [1808. 
 
 To Viscount CastlereagTi. 
 
 " Loudon, llth Oct., 1808. 
 
 " My dear CastlereaCtH, 
 
 " After I saw you on Saturday I spoke to Colonel 
 Gordon, and he agreed entirely in opinion with me, that it 
 ■was expedient to recommend General Spencer to the King 
 at an early period for some mark of his Mnjesty's favour, 
 and he promised to speak to the Duke of York upon the 
 subject. 
 
 " I have always been of opinion that I should not be 
 able to convince the public of the goodness of my motives 
 for signing the armistice ; and the late discussions in Mid- 
 dlesex and elsewhere, and the paragraphs in the newspapers, 
 which after all rule everything in this country, tend to con- 
 vince me that it is determined that I shall not have the 
 benefit of an acquittal, and that the news-writers and the 
 orators of the day are determined to listen to nothing in my 
 justification. I am, therefore, quite certain that the Govern- 
 ment will not be able to recommend me for any mark of the 
 King's favour to which they might otherwise think me en- 
 titled. If this turns out to be true, the Ministers will be 
 obliged to recommend that a mark of the King's favour 
 should be conferred on General Spencer, and not on me, 
 although both were employed on the same service, and 
 this after an inquiry will have been held in which my con- 
 duct will have been investigated. They will be obliged to 
 adopt this line, notwithstanding that I hope they will be 
 convinced of the propriety of my conduct, and the goodness 
 of my motives in every instance ; or they must determine 
 not to confer upon General Spencer those marks of the 
 King's favour which his services undoubtedly merit. 
 
 " I have no doubt of the alternative which the Ministers 
 will be inclined to adopt. I am convinced that Spencer 
 bimself will urge them not to think of him if tlie King's 
 favour cannot be extended to me, and thus he will lose what 
 he so well deserves. I am convinced tlnit this will be the 
 result of any further delay. 
 
 " I wish, therefore, that you would immediately rccom-
 
 1808.] RETURNS TO IRELAND. 85 
 
 mend Spencer for what you think he ought to have. There 
 can be no doubt of his merit on every ground ; and nobody 
 can with reason complain that an injustice is done to me, 
 because even my most sanguine friends cannot think that 
 I am in a situation to receive any mark of his Majesty's 
 favour. 
 
 " I wish you would turn this subject over in your mind, 
 and you will discover that great difficulties will be avoided 
 by adopting immediately the measure which I most earnestly 
 recommend. 
 
 " Believe me, &c., 
 
 " Arthur "Wellesley. 
 
 " P. S. It is said that Spencer would not like to accept 
 any mark of the King's favour at present, but I am con- 
 vinced that I shall be able to prevail with him." 
 
 Having brought his affairs to this point, Sir Arthur de- 
 parted for Ireland, where, indifferent to the wrong which 
 was done him by the English people, he resumed the course 
 of his civil duties. There he remained till the beginning 
 of November, when the assembling at Chelsea Hospital of 
 the Court to inquire into the circumstances of the late cam- 
 paign, and of the convention in which it resulted, recalled 
 him to London. In common with Sir Hugh Dali'ymple and 
 Sir Harry Burrard, he appeared before the Court, where 
 each gave his own statement, and supported it by his own 
 line of argument. There is no reason now to conceal or 
 disguise the fact, that the conclusions at which the Court 
 arrived were all pretty well arranged beforehand. Sir 
 Arthur, still treating with the utmost possible delicacy of- 
 ficers who were not by any means so delicate towards him, 
 proved his own case. The Court listened with partial ears 
 to the statements of Sir Hugh and Sir Harry ; and the final 
 issue was a declaration, that nobody was to blame ; that 
 all which could have been reasonably expected under the 
 circumstances, had been done, so that further proceedings 
 in the case were not necessary. Absurd as the decision was, 
 Sir Arthur made no protest against it ; but went back to
 
 86 THANKED BY PARLIAMENT. [180S 
 
 Ireland, and busied himself as before in such affairs as came 
 iisuaUy under the cognizance of chief secretaries in those 
 days of Protestant ascendancy and government by influence. 
 Time passed, and early in January, 1809, Parliament met. 
 One of the first acts of both Houses was to pass a vote of 
 thanks to Sir Arthur "Wellesley and the army which had 
 served under him ; a measure which pleased him, not alone 
 because his own good name was thereby vindicated, but 
 because the impediments were removed which had hereto- 
 fore stood between his friend G-eneral Spencer and the 
 honours for which he had recommended him. But business 
 of a graver nature soon followed. Sir John Moore's cam- 
 paign had ended unsuccessfully. The Spanish armies, with 
 Avhich he proposed to co-operate, were dispersed, and the bat- 
 tle of Coruna, while it saved the honour of the British 
 arms, cost the life of the brave officer who commanded. The 
 victors reached their ships in safety, and withdrew from the 
 Gralician coasts. For a moment a conviction of the hope- 
 lessness of the struggle took possession of the English mind. 
 But tlie heart of the nation was still resolute, and the 
 Cabinet decided to make one effort more for the liberties of 
 Europe in the Spanish Peninsula. It was natural enough 
 that the British G-overnment should make Spain, rather than 
 Portugal, the first object of their care. Spain was the larger 
 and more populous country of the two, and it had been 
 impressed upon their minds by Sir John Moore, and indeed 
 by all wliom they had heretofore consulted, that to defend 
 Portugal after Spain should have been overrun was impos- 
 sible. Lord Castlereagh therefore proposed to the Junta of 
 Seville, which had by this time assumed the functions of 
 Supreme G-overnment, that Cadiz should become the base 
 of operations for a British army ; and then, and not till 
 then, he bethought him of consulting Sir Arthur Wellesley. 
 On the 7th of March he received in reply a memorandum, 
 which not only answered every question proposed, but took a 
 view of the case so masterly and comprehensive as to leave no 
 single point connected with it untouched. Sir Arthur begins 
 that remarkable paper in these words. "I have always been 
 of opinion that Portugal might be defended, whatever might
 
 1S09.] HIS VIEWS OX THE DEFENCE OF TORTUGAL. 87 
 
 Lave been the result of the contest in Spain, and that in the 
 mean time the measures adopted for the defence of Portugal 
 would be highly useful to the Spaniards in their contest with 
 the French." He then goes on to justify this assertion, and 
 to explain that in Portugal, with its feeble Government and 
 docile population, a native ai'my could be ofBcered by 
 Englishmen, which being intermixed with English troops, 
 would soon be rendered capable of facing the best of the 
 Continental armies. It was thus that at every new stage 
 in his career the Grreat Duke was accustomed to turn to 
 account the experience which the past had given him. He 
 had evidently in his mind when he offered this suggestion 
 the native army of India and its capabilities, and often in after- 
 years he used to compare that army with his Portuguese 
 levies, giving however a marked prefei'ence to the latter. 
 But he did not, in the memorandum of which I am now 
 speaking, confine himself to matters of detail. He described 
 ISTapoleon's political system as one of terror, which must 
 crumble to pieces if once effectually checked ; and he ex- 
 pressed a belief that in Portugal, if wisely dealt with, the 
 first decided check Avould be given to that system. Sir 
 Arthur's minute was read in Cabinet, and produced a strong 
 eftect, and the refusal of the Spaniards to receive a British 
 garrison into Cadiz arriving not long afterwards. Sir Arthur's 
 views were unanimously adopted. There remained then but 
 one course for the Government to follow. Sir Arthur was 
 requested to assume the command of the army, which it was 
 determined to employ in the Peninsula, and he did so without 
 a moment's hesitation. 
 
 Before his own Government arrived at these conclusions, 
 the command of the Portuguese army had been pressed 
 upon Sir Arthur by the Portuguese Government, and de- 
 clined. He easily prevailed, however, to get that important 
 trust committed to General — afterwards Lord — Viscount 
 Beresford, an officer of whom he entertained a high opinion ; 
 and who, on account of his knowledge of the Portuguese 
 language, was well fitted to act with Portuguese troops. 
 But the arrangement interfered in no respect with the larger 
 plan on which the English Government had determined.
 
 88 PREPARES TO TAKE THE FIELD. [1809. 
 
 England was henceforward to become a principal in the war 
 which impended. She was to take into her pay, to discipline 
 and equip, a certain number of Portuguese troops, and the 
 whole military resources of the kingdom were to be placed 
 in return at the disposal of the English General. Sir Arthur 
 "NVellesley had nothing more to desire. He resigned at 
 once and for ever his seat in the House of Commons, and 
 the office which he had so long and usefully held in Ireland, 
 and turned his attention to the great work which was cut 
 out for him. For everything which he considered necessary 
 to the equipment and efficiency of an army in the Held he 
 apjilied in writing. No single article, from a battalion of 
 Infantry to a pair of shoes, was forgotten. Suits of clothing, 
 stands of arms, sets of accoutrements for the Portuguese 
 levies, horses, guns, muskets, ammunition, intrenching tools, 
 Ijorse-shoes, nails, hammers, all were distinctly specified. If 
 either at the outset or at any subsequent stage in the cam- 
 paign the army of which he was at the head suffered from 
 the lack of anything, the fault never rested with him. 
 
 This unceasing attention to details, this care for all 
 possible wants before they occurred, forms one of the most 
 remarkable features in the character of the great Duke of 
 AVellingfon as a General. Another of his peculiarities as a 
 Man deserves notice. He seems never to have been so 
 engrossed by any particular subject, as to be incapacitated 
 from discussing others with as much clearness as if each had 
 touched the very point to which his attention was mainly 
 directed. At this moment, for example, when other minds 
 than his own would have been filled with the coming war 
 and the preparations for it, we find him corresponding in his 
 usual style, now with the Duke of Richmond on Irish aflairs, 
 now with inventors on the subject of their inventions, now 
 with the President of the Board of Control upon Indian sub- 
 jects, and largely with his private friends and acquaintances 
 about the common gossip and business of life. In some of 
 these letters there is an elasticity and even playfulness of 
 tone which shows that, however grave the responsibility 
 which he was about to assume, it by no means weighed hin\ 
 down. And this is the mor3 remarkable that the condition
 
 1809.] COXDITION OF PORTUGAL. 89 
 
 of Portugal, political as well as military, was at that time as 
 little promising as can well be conceived. The departure of 
 the Prench had left the country without a Government. Army 
 there was none, in any proper sense of the term ; for the few 
 battalions which existed were without discipline, without 
 military spirit, without even arms ; and the mobs of Lisbon 
 and Oporto, stirred up by the brothers Souza and the Bishop,, 
 clamoured against the English as having betrayed them, and 
 insulted English officers as they walked the streets. There ia 
 no knowing to what extent this feeling might have been car- 
 ried, had not General Cradock, whom Moore had left iu 
 command, threatened to withdraw his troops altogether. 
 This brought men a little to their senses ; the Regency be- 
 gan to act again, and a levy en masse was ordered. Beresford 
 proceeded to place himself at its head, and did his best to 
 introduce discipline into the ranks. It was to a country so 
 circumstanced, and with a force at his disposal of less than 
 16,000 men on the spot, and promised reinforcements amount- 
 ing to barely 8000 more, that Sir Arthur Wellesley made 
 ready to proceed ; nowise distrustful that, if a little time 
 were aftbrded him, he should be able to make successful 
 head against the whole strength of the French Empire.
 
 so 
 
 CHAPTER Till. 
 
 IX PORTUGAL. 
 
 On the IBtli of April, 1809, Sir Arthur Wellesley took 
 ship at Portsmouth, and on the 22nd, after a tempestuous 
 aud uncomfortable voyage, he arrived in the Tagiis. His 
 reception by the people and authorities of Lisbon was en- 
 thusiastic in the extreme. Pear, jealousy, suspicion, ill-will, 
 seemed to disperse before him, and all classes, high and low, 
 crowded to greet and assure him of their confidence. He 
 did not allow the popular enthusiasm to grow cold. With 
 consummate tact he got the Regency together, and prevailed 
 upon them to pass whatever resolutions were proposed, and 
 then he set himself in right good earnest to the task which 
 he had undertaken. 
 
 Two Prench corps at this time threatened Lisbon from 
 opposite sides of the Tagus. Soult, with 20,000 men, or 
 thereabouts, was in Oporto — having his outposts advanced 
 as far as the right bank of the Youga. Victor, with 28,000, 
 lay at Merida in Estremadura. There was nothing in the 
 field to oppose to either of them, except the remains of cer- 
 tain Spanish armies, every one of which had sustained a de- 
 feat, and was therefore demoralized as well as undisciplined. 
 But the practised eye of Sir Arthur was not slow to dis- 
 cover that the distance between these two Prench corps was 
 too great to enable them mutually to support one another. 
 He resolved, therefore, to strike at them in detail ; and after 
 well considering the subject he made iip his mind to sacrifice 
 military to political considerations, and to begin with Soult. 
 
 The promised reinfor^-cm^'nts from Engh^nd arrived by
 
 1809.] OrEXS THE CAMrAIGX. 91 
 
 degrees, and Sir Arthur at the end of a week was able to 
 bring into line about 35,000 men. Of these 15,000 were 
 Portuguese, of whom 9000 with 13,000 English and 3000 
 German troops he directed to assemble at Coimbra. The 
 remainder he so posted as that they should be able to im- 
 pede, if they could not stop, the advance of Victor, in the 
 event of his endeavouring to pass the Tagus. The various 
 brigades and corps followed the routes which were pointed 
 out to them, and on the 2nd of May he himself arrived at 
 Coimbra. On the 3rd he passed his army in review ; on 
 the 4th it was distributed into eight brigades of Infautry 
 and one of Cavalry ; and on the Gth the advance began. 
 How entirely the French were Avithout partisans at that 
 time in Portugal is shown by the fact that not a rumour of 
 this concentration reached them, though Soult had his out- 
 posts within three easy marches of the point where the con- 
 centration took place. 
 
 It is not my intention to describe in detail the campaign 
 of the Douro, or any other campaign in the famous Penin- 
 sular war. My present purpose is rather with the great man 
 who led the allied armies than with the armies themselves ; 
 of which therefore I shall endeavour to speak more as of the 
 instruments with which he executed his purposes than as 
 agents in the execution of these purposes. And adhering 
 to this resolve it will content me to state that the Youga 
 was crossed by the English on the morning of the 10th ; 
 that in the course of the same day an affair occurred with 
 the enemy's posts, and that the enemy, leaving three guns 
 behind and a few men killed and wounded, hastily retreated. 
 They crossed the Douro on a bridge of boats which was im- 
 mediately removed, and so placing a broad river between 
 them and the English, they took shelter in Oporto, and be- 
 lieved themselves safe. 
 
 During the progress of this advance, Sir Arthur seemed 
 to do everything and to be everywhere. He personally di- 
 rected the movements of the columns, regulating the very 
 pace at which men and horse should travel ; and gave by 
 these means to all under his orders, from generals of 
 brigade to the members of his personal staff, their first
 
 92 AFFAIR OX THE YOUGA. [1809. 
 
 distinct lesson in the art of war. Once by over-precipita- 
 tion on the part of the officer -who led, his advanced guard 
 failed to surprise a body of Fi'ench troops which lay care- 
 lessly among some villages about eight miles in rear of the 
 Youga. The circumstance was provoking enough, but Sir 
 Arthur kept his temper. He contented himself with send- 
 ing for the officer and explaining, " that courage is an ad- 
 mirable quality, but that discretion and judgment are quite 
 as necessar}"", particularly in the leader of an advanced guard." 
 On the other hand he was always prompt to observe, and to 
 commend military talent and judicious enterprise, by whom- 
 soever exhibited. Take the following as an example. 
 
 With a view to cut off the retreat of Soult upon Braga, 
 Sir Arthur had detached Greneral Beresford with his Por- 
 tuguese towards Lamego, giving him orders to cross the 
 Douro there, and to seize and hold the bridge at Amarante. 
 Beresford was further directed to collect as many boats as 
 he could find, and to send them down the stream for the 
 use of the main army. For it had not escaped the calcula- 
 tions of Sir Arthur that the enemy would certainly remove 
 their pontoon bridge, and that probably nothing available for 
 the transport of men and guns would be found on his side 
 of the water. And so it fell out. AVhen the leading corps 
 of the British army arrived in sight of Oporto, the last link 
 of the bridge was swinging round, and neither skilf nor boat 
 of any kind could be seen, except drawn up and made fast 
 along the far-off bank of the river. 
 
 The left bank of the Douro consists of a series of heights, 
 with one called the Serra dominating over all the rest. Op- 
 posite to the Serra on the other side was a large building, 
 called the Seminary, which with its gardens and outbuild- 
 ings Sir Arthur was well pleased to find that the French had 
 not taken the trouble to occupy. It was exactly the sort of 
 place in which to make an effective lodgment, and he looked 
 at it with longing eyes. But no boats appeared descending 
 the stream, and though he ran up 20 guns and planted 
 them so as to command the Seminary and its approaches, he 
 could attempt nothing further. He placed his men, there- 
 fore, under cover, and sat down to cliat, as was his custom,
 
 1800.] CAPTATX WATERS. 93 
 
 ■with the gentlemen of his staff. There was one among 
 these, Captain Waters, -n-hose readiness of resource, often 
 tested afterwards, found there for the first time a field on 
 which to work. Waters suddenly darted otf from the 
 throng, and for half an hour or more nothing was seen of 
 him. But presently the tall reeds which overshadow the 
 margin of the Douro, and, where the banks are low, run a 
 good way inland, began to shake, and by and by a little 
 skiff with six men on board, shot out into the deep. One 
 of these men was Waters. He had observed the skiff con- 
 cealed among the reeds and stuck fast in the mud, and after 
 vainly struggling single-handed to set it free, had run off in 
 search of help. By great good luck a sturdy Ecclesiastic, 
 the prior of the Convent of Amarante, met him, and he, 
 entering heartily into the design, was not slow in finding 
 four peasants to co-operate with them. They all returned 
 to the place where the skiff lay, and the oars happening to 
 be on board, they soon got her afloat and pushed off. " By 
 Gr — ," exclaimed Sir Arthur, " Waters has done the job." 
 And so he had. While the Greneral and those about him 
 watched the result with great eagerness, Waters and his 
 crew struck out like men. They made for a point where, 
 just above the Seminary, three barges lay ; and undoing the 
 lashings they made them fast to their own boat, and pulled 
 across again. The results are well known. A handful of 
 men passed the river in these barges — the Seminary was oc- 
 cupied before the alarm was given, and when the enemy 
 endeavoured to retake it, the fire from the guns on the op- 
 posite bank swept them away. The inhabitants of Oporto 
 threw themselves into the game, and scores of boats shot 
 across the river and were at once laden. Sir Arthur never 
 forgot the services of Waters on that day. He obtained for 
 him deserved promotion, and employed him afterwards in 
 many a perilous and important service, out of which he 
 always came triumphant. 
 
 The passage of the Douro was one of those brilliant affairs 
 whicli only men of genius, as well as hardihood, think of at- 
 tempting. It succeeded mainly because success was be- 
 lieved to be impossible. It led to the expulsion of the
 
 94 SOULT ESCAPES. [1809. 
 
 enemy from the city, and tlieir painful flight across the 
 mountains of Tras os Montes in Galicia, with the loss of all 
 their guns and baggage, and of 6000 men killed, wounded, and 
 taken. The pursuit, which had been vigorously pressed till 
 fatigue and privation began to tell upon the pursuers, was 
 at length abandoned. " If an army," wrote Sir Arthur to 
 Lord Castlereagh describing the operation, " throws away all 
 its cannon, equipments, and baggage, and everything which 
 can strengthen it and enable it to act as a body, and aban- 
 dons all those who are entitled to its protection, but add to its 
 weight and impede its progress, it must be able to march 
 through roads by which it cannot be followed with any pros- 
 pect of being overtaken by an army which has not made 
 the same sacrifices." This is true — and it was only by 
 making these enormous sacrifices that Soult and his army 
 escaped. Tet Sir Arthur did not come ofl^ scatheless. Not 
 more than 300 English soldiers fell by sword and bullet in 
 the course of the campaign ; but when he returned on the 
 21st to Oporto, Sir Arthur found that 4000 were down from 
 sickness, and that among such as still kept their places in 
 the ranks, many were shoeless, and not a few in rags. So 
 severe is the strain of even a successful operation, if it be 
 conducted rapidly, on the morale and equipment of an army. 
 Having thus cleared Portugal on one side, Sir Arthur 
 turned his attention to the dangers which threatened else- 
 where, and made such preparations as he could for marching 
 against Victor. His idea was to strike first at a Trench 
 division which lay at Alcantara, higher up the Douro. But 
 General Lepice, who commanded in that quarter, prudently 
 retreated, and a mixed English and Portuguese force was 
 sent to guard the bridge which there spans the river. Back, 
 therefore, in the direction of Coimbra and Abrantes, Sir 
 Arthur moved. His movements, however, Avere not as they 
 had been in advancing, rapid and contimious. Means of 
 transport failed him. The Portuguese Grovernment was 
 supine in supplying them, and the support which he receiv- 
 ed from England came in slowly and by driblets. He was 
 thus constrained to halt at Abrantes many precious days. 
 These were not days of idleness or rest to him. His cor-
 
 1S09.] niS CORRESrOXDEXCE. 95 
 
 respondeiice had become enormous. It was carried on with 
 Ministers of State, with the Grovernors of provinces ; with 
 his own and the general officers of the Spanish and Portu- 
 guese annies ; with commissaries, doctors, purveyors, and 
 private friends ; and it embraced every topic connected with 
 the history of the times, from the policy of great empires 
 down to the feeding of private sentinels. Those portions 
 of it which have been considered worthy of publication fill, 
 for this single year, three large and closely printed octavo 
 volumes ; so untiring w"as that great man's industry, so well 
 regulated his disposition of time.
 
 96 
 
 CHAPTEE IX. 
 
 MOVES TOWARDS CUESTA BATTLE OF TALATERA. 
 
 There were at this time in the Spanish Peninsula 
 250,000 French troops ; all admirably eqiiipped, in the high- 
 est state of discipline, and commanded by the foremost of 
 Napoleon's Generals. They were, of course, a good deal 
 scattered, for the area was wide, and the insurrection 
 threatened everywhere. But Avithin a radius of 100 miles, 
 taking Madrid as a centre, 100,000 at least lay, by divi- 
 sions, each within reasonable distance from all the rest. 
 Joseph himself was in Madrid with GOOO or 8000. Sebas- 
 tian! was at Toledo with 12,000 ; Mortier, with 18,000, lay at 
 Villa Castin ; Victor was at Cassares with 28,000. Mean- 
 while Soult, having refitted at Lugo, was as far in advance 
 again ns Salamanca, where the coming in of IN^ey's corps 
 raised his eftectives to upwards of 30,000. On the other 
 side, if we except the English army now reduced to 20,000 
 fit for duty, and to a certain extent the Portuguese, of whom 
 about 17,000 had profited by English instruction, there was 
 nothing to oppose to this well-disciplined array save bodies 
 of half-armed and untrained Spaniards, under the command 
 of officers ignorant of the first principles of the art of war. 
 Sir Arthur was in Abrantes with 18,000 excellent troops, 
 Oeneral Mackenzie held Alcantara with 8000, of whom 
 2000 only were English. IMarshal Bereslbrd was at Al- 
 meida with 15,000 Portuguese. There were assembled in 
 the hill country of Estremadura about 4000 Partisans under 
 Sir Robert "Wilson ; 12.000 Spaniards under the Duke del
 
 1S09.J PLAN OF CAMPAIGN. 97 
 
 Parque lay in and about Ciudad Eodrigo, 26,000 vrere ■with 
 Venegas among the mountains of Toledo, and 40,000, with 
 old G-eneral Cuesta at their head, occupied a position half 
 way between Medellin and Cassares. Sir Robert AV^ilson's 
 Partisans consisted chiefly of Portuguese smugglers, indi- 
 yidually brave and hardy but lawless and without discipline, 
 while the Spanish armies of Cuesta, Venegas, and del Parque 
 were but the remains of those levies which Napoleon and 
 his generals had defeated, reinforced by peasants untrained, 
 and many of them without arms. 
 
 Sir Arthur bad not yet come into personal contact with 
 Spanish armies and their leaders. He had heard enough 
 of their proceedings during the campaign of 1808, to pre- 
 vent his counting much upon them, but he could not be- 
 lieve that they were so utterly worthless aa experience 
 proved them to be. He entered, therefore, readily into 
 negotiations with Cuesta, and arranged with him a plan of 
 which the following are the outlines. While Sir Arthur 
 and Cuesta, uniting their forces, were to advance by Al- 
 niaraz and Placentia upon Madrid, Venegas, pushing forward 
 from La Manca towards Aranjuez, was to interpose between 
 Victor and Sebastiani. Meanwhile Sir Eobert Wilson was 
 to seize the Escurial, threatening thereby Joseph's com- 
 munications with the North. At the same time Beresford 
 and the Duke del Parque were to occupy the attention of 
 the French corps which lay at Salamanca ; and finally, the 
 valley of the Tagus was to be rendered safe by detaching 
 two Spanish brigades from Cuesta's army to the passes of 
 Banos and Porales, in support of which, without interfer- 
 ing with their proper objects, both Beresford and Wilson 
 could manoeuvre. 
 
 Nothing could be more perfect than this plan. It was 
 approved in all its details by Greneral Cuesta, who urged Sir 
 Arthur to immediate action, and assured him of ample sup- 
 plies as well as of abundant means of transport, as soon as 
 the English should enter Spain. The English did enter 
 Spain, and there their difficulties began. There were no 
 supplies for them, no means of transport, scarcely the pre- 
 tence of friendly feeling among the inhabitants. More than 
 
 7
 
 98 EEVIEW OF SPANISH TROOPS. [1809. 
 
 once indeed Sir Arthur hesitated whether he should not 
 abandon the enterprise, so disgusted was he with the culp- 
 able negligence of his colleague, and so indignant with the 
 indifference of the Spanish nation to the sufferings of his 
 troops. It was not, however, in his nature to break an en- 
 gagement once contracted. He pushed on, therefore, and 
 on the 20th of July found himself at Oropesa in personal 
 communication with Cuesta. Then the illusion, if any had 
 hitherto rested upon his mind, vanished altogether. The 
 Spanish army was drawn up that he might see it, and the 
 review took place partly by torch-light ; it satisfied Sir 
 Arthur, that however good the materials might be, they 
 were as yet a mere shapeless mass. " I am sure I don't 
 know what we are to do with these people," was his remark 
 to Colonel Murray, as they rode back to their own lines ; 
 "put them behind stone walls, and I daresay they would 
 defend them, but to manoeuvre with such a rabble under 
 fire, is impossible. I am afraid we shall find them an en- 
 cumbrance rather than otherwise." 
 
 If Sir Arthur was disgusted with the temper of the 
 Spanish people, and with the military appearance of the 
 Spanish troops, he found little to console him under the 
 disappointment in the mental, and even the physical, quali- 
 ties of the Spanish generals. Some, like Cuesta, were old 
 men, so decrepit in person as to be incapable without assist- 
 ance of getting upon horseback. Others, like Venegas, had 
 received no early training in the profession of arms, and 
 all, without exception, were proud, boastful, slow, without 
 forethought, and apparently ignorant of the value of time. 
 There is good reason to believe that Sir Arthur, if he could 
 have done so without compromising his own and his coun- 
 try's honour, would have abandoned all thought of co-oper- 
 ating with allies so little to be depended upon. Not feeling 
 himself justified in taking this decided step, he made up his 
 mind to go forward cautiously, and to avoid being drawn by 
 Spanish presumption into scrapes from which Spanish valour 
 would certainly not deliver him. 
 
 The arrival of the English army at Oropesa gave the 
 signal to Victor to retire. He fell back throug]\ Traxillo
 
 1809.] AT TALAVERA. 99 
 
 upon Almaraz, crossed the Tagus there, and made no halt 
 till he reached a somewhat indifterent position, about two 
 miles on the further side of Talavera de la Eeyna. Sir 
 Arthur and Greneral Cuesta followed, and passed the night 
 of the 22nd of July in Talavera itself. They had thus 
 achieved the main purpose of their junction, for the enemy 
 was before them inferior in point of numbers, and so near as 
 to leave to them the option of a battle. But no argument 
 could prevail with Cuesta to make this option. Without as- 
 signing any reason, he refused to co-operate with Sir Arthur 
 in attacking Victor on the 23rd, and on the morning of the 
 24th the French were gone. Now then the Spanish Greneral 
 was seized with an irrejjressible desire to act. He urged 
 an immediate pursuit, and when Sir Arthur quietly observed 
 that no good could arise, because the opportunity of striking 
 an effective blow had passed from them, his indignation 
 boiled over. He would go forward alone ; he would himself 
 overwhelm the fugitives and deliver Madrid ; and forward 
 alone he went. Sir Arthur, finding remonstrance useless, 
 threw two divisions of infantry and some cavalry across the 
 Alberche in order to keep open Cuesta's communications 
 with himself, and then sat down to wait the event of which 
 he seems never for a moment to have been doubtful. 
 
 While these things were going on, Venegas, instead of 
 pushing, as he ought to have done, upon Aranjuez, loitered at 
 La Manca, and the two Spanish brigades which were due 
 in the passes of Banos and Porales, never made their appear- 
 ance. The former of these blunders enabled Joseph and 
 Sebastiani to unite their forces with those of Victor. The 
 latter exposed the position at Talavera to be turned in the 
 rear. Of both mishaps Sir Arthur remained for two days 
 ignorant, but on the 26th the sudden appearance of Cuesta's 
 people, running and riding in hot haste towards the Al- 
 berche, warned him that evil had befallen. Cuesta, it appeared, 
 marching straight to Alcabon, was there turned upon and 
 defeated by Victor ; and now brought intelligence that at 
 least 50,000 French troops might be expected at any moment 
 to fall upon the allies. 
 
 Sir Arthur's plan of campaign was completely defeated.
 
 100 THE CASA DE SELINAS. [1809 
 
 He had counted much more than he ever did at any subse- 
 quent period on Spanish co-operation, and it failed him. 
 Had he been free to consult his own judgment as a soldier, 
 he would have doubtless separated the English army from 
 that of Cuesta, and fallen back the same day, without risk- 
 ing a battle, into Portugal. But it was necessary to prove 
 to the Spanish nation that Eagland was in earnest, and to 
 satisfy the English people that their allies had not been 
 abandoned in the hour of need. Nothing doubting there- 
 fore that his rear at all events was safe, and confident in the 
 stubborn courage of his own men, he determined to accept 
 a battle on the ground where he stood. And it was, in a 
 military point of view, very defensible. It extended for 
 about two miles across a plain, having the town of Talavera 
 on one flank, and the mountain-ranges which close in the 
 valley of the Tagus on the other. And it embraced here 
 and there a knoll, or eminence, and a good deal of wood 
 with banks and hollow roads and walled gardens, especially 
 in the direction of Talavera. Sir Arthur so arranged his 
 troops that the English held the centre and left where the 
 ground was the most open, and the Spaniards, of whom 
 Cuesta in his humiliation entreated him to take the com- 
 mand, were massed among the gardens and enclosures in 
 front of the town. A little way in advance of Talavex'a, 
 not far from the river Alberche, stands the Casa de Selinas, 
 a fine old chateau surrounded by extensive woods. Through 
 these woods several roads passed, and among them Sir Ar- 
 thur left an English division in observation, with about 
 10,000 Spaniards spread along the margin of the stream. 
 
 Anticipating the approach of the enemy, and desirous of 
 observing the order of their march. Sir Arthur proceeded on 
 the 27th to the Casa. He was accompanied by the ofiicers 
 of his staft' and a few orderlies only ; and all, except the or- 
 derlies, dismounting in the court yard, left their horses 
 there, and ascended to the roof It was not long before the 
 Erench made their appearance advancing in magnificent 
 array, and by and by the heads of columns began to disap- 
 pear among the woods. But the woods being filled with 
 Spanish soldiers, no danger was apprehended ; especially as
 
 1809.] THE FRENCH ADVANCE. 101 
 
 not a single musket-shot spoke of a collision between them 
 and the enemy. The whole was a delusion. The Spaniards, 
 demoralized by their d^efeat a few days previously, fled at 
 the first appearance of the enemy, and Sir Arthur and his 
 stafi" suddenly beheld with astonishment clouds of French 
 skirmishers hastening round the chateau. There was not 
 a moment to be lost. "Without uttering a word, the group 
 turned, ran hastily down-stairs^ jumped into their saddles, 
 and put spurs to their horses. A second surprise now ap- 
 peared to take place, for the French, alarmed by the clatter 
 of horses' feet behind them, opened to the right and left, 
 and the English General, his staff", and orderlies galloped 
 through. Fortunately some English infantry were not far 
 off". A smart skirmish ensued, amid the tumult of which 
 Sir Arthur returned unhurt to his position at Talavera. " It 
 was an awkward predicament enough," the Duke used to 
 say, " but we had but one way out of it. We did not pick 
 our steps, you may depend upon it, in running down-stairs. 
 The orderlies had behaved with perfect steadiness. They 
 took no notice of what was passing outside, but sat upon 
 their horses, holding ours. We were soon in the saddle, 
 and then there was a general dash through the gateway, and 
 high time it was. If the French had been cool, they might 
 have taken us all ; but the apparition of a body of horsemen 
 in their rear seemed to frighten them ; they opened out to 
 the right and left, and we dashed through. Before they re- 
 covered their senses we were safe enough, though not, as you 
 may suppose, in the best humour with theYaloroses, who had 
 played us so shabby a trick." 
 
 In taking up his ground for the expected battle. Sir Ar- 
 thur had stationed General Hill's division on his extreme 
 left, placing it upon an eminence between which and the 
 mountains ran a narrow valley, everywhere commanded by 
 the English guns. The better to strengthen his centre, a 
 redoubt had been begun, but it was still incomplete when 
 the approach of the enemy became known. He contented 
 himself therefore with placing behind it a division of English 
 infantry, with a brigade of English cavalry and some Spanish 
 horsemen in support. Mackenzie's troops were intended, as
 
 102 BATTLE BEGINS. [1809. 
 
 they came in, to prolong the line to the right, and Camp- 
 bell's division touched the Spaniards, and the enclosures 
 which they held. The combined armies showed a total 
 strength of 44,000 infantry, 10,000 cavalry, and 100 guns. 
 But of this infantry and cavalry 19,000 only were English, 
 the rest being Cuesta's undisciplined and ill-armed rabble. 
 On the other hand, Victor, Sebastian!, and Joseph were at the 
 head of 43,000 infantry, 7000 cavalry, and 90 guns, all well 
 appointed, well drilled ; homogeneous, and unaccustomed to 
 defeat. The odds were terribly against the Allies. 
 
 Driving Mackenzie's troops before him, Victor arrived, 
 about two in the afternoon, in sight of the English position. 
 He made no delay in attacking. The two French divisions 
 which had been engaged at the Casa de Salinas took 
 ground to the right and fell upon Hill with great fury. Eor 
 a moment tliey seemed to prevail. Two Grerman battalions, 
 which formed part of this division, yielded to the shock, and 
 the enemy crowned the summit of the hill. But they did 
 not stand there long. General Sherbrook, whose division 
 communicated by the left with that of Hill, wheeled round 
 one of his brigades, which charged the French in flank and 
 overthrew them. It was to no purpose that Victor repeat- 
 edly reinforced such of his troops as were engaged. Though 
 renewing the attack moi'e than once, and arriving more than 
 once within a few yards of the summit, the French never 
 reached it again, but after a fierce combat waged far into the 
 night, were driven at tlie point of the bayonet back into the 
 plain. Both hosts slept that night upon their arms. The 
 French, well supplied, eat and drank before they lay down ; the 
 Spaniards likewise fared well ; the English were starving. 
 Throughout the two previous days no rations had been issued 
 to them, except a handful of flour per man, so grossly for- 
 getful of the engagements under which they had come were 
 their Spanish allies. They were up, however, and in line 
 long before dawn on the 2Sth, and just as the morning broke 
 the battle was renewed. It raged furiously till noon, when 
 a pause in the firing occurred, of which the troops on both 
 sides took advantage to drink out of a rivulet which flowed 
 between their positions. Meanwhile their leadex'S busied
 
 1809.] CLOSE OF THE BATTLE. lOS 
 
 themselves in re-arranging their respective lines, and exam- 
 ining the dispositions of the enemy. And hei-e an incident 
 befell, which deserves notice, as testifying to the extraordin- 
 ary coolness and self-possession of Sir Arthur Wellesley. 
 He Avas seated on the brow of an eminence whence the whole 
 field of battle could be surveyed, when Colonel Donkin, the 
 commander of a brigade which communicated directly with 
 the Spaniards, rode up. He handed a letter to Sir Arthur, 
 at the same time announcing that he had himself received it 
 from the Due del Albuquerque, and intimating that he was 
 not unacquainted with its contents. They were of the most 
 startling kind, for they announced that Cuesta was about to 
 pass over to the enemy. Sir Arthur read the letter, put it 
 into his pocket, and said in a calm, clear tone : " Very well, 
 Colonel ; you may go back to yoiir brigade ! " 'No more 
 passed ; no more was ever heard of the business. "WTiether 
 Sir Arthur gave any credence to the story, does not appear, 
 but he acted as if it had been entirely devoid of truth. 
 A rare instance of self-possession and self-confidence, look- 
 ing, not alone to the nature of the intelligence conveyed, but 
 to the source from whence it came. 
 
 About two o'clock the Prench renewed the attack, and 
 till six the conflict was severe. At every point the assail- 
 ants were repulsed, and again victors and vanquished rested 
 upon their arms. But a sad accident befell. The dry grass 
 and shrubs with which the plain was covered, caught fire, 
 and many wounded men, unable to crawl to a place of safety, 
 perished amid the conflagration.
 
 104 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 MOVES AGAINST SOULT ACROSS THE TAGUS IN LISBON — IN 
 
 CADIZ ACROSS THE TAGUS AGAIN. 
 
 Sir Arthur laad won a great battle, but his circumstances 
 were scarcely improved by it. Upwards of 6000 British 
 troops had been placed liors de comiat ; and though the loss 
 of the enemy was still more severe, and though 3000 magni- 
 ficent British infantry arrived in his camp just as the firing 
 ceased, he could not venture, associated as he was with the 
 Spaniards, to follow up his success. Joseph and Victor 
 were thus enabled to retire immolested from the field, the 
 former pushing off for Madrid, which Sir Robert Wilson 
 was reported to have threatened, the latter halting upon the 
 left bank of the Alberche. Hence the armies which had 
 fought on the 27th and 28th, continued to face one another 
 on the 30th, and so remained till rumours came in, wliich 
 led to a change of dispositions on the part of the English 
 General. 
 
 I have elsewhere described the plan of campaign that was 
 drawn up by Sir Arthur and accepted by the Spaniards. It 
 broke down in every part. Venegas loitered by the way. 
 Cuesta left the pass of Banos unguarded. Sir Eobert "Wil- 
 son failed to effect all that he had promised, and neither 
 supplies nor means of transport were forthcoming. The evil 
 consequences were made apparent first in the paralysis which 
 fell upon the victors of Talavera, and next in the execution 
 of certain movements by the enemy, which, had they been a 
 little more prompt, might have led to serious results. Mar-
 
 1809.] TUENS UPON SOTJLT. 105 
 
 shal Soult, after refitting at Lugo, advanced, as we have seen, 
 to Salamanca. There the junction of Ney's corps, of which 
 Mortier was in temporary command, put him at the head of 
 35,000 men, whom he moved leisurely, and with needles.s 
 precaution, through the unguarded pass of Banos into the 
 valley of the Tagus. On the evening of the 2nd of August, 
 Sir Arthur heard of this movement. He held a conference 
 with Cuesta, in which, after receiving the Spaniard's lame 
 excuse for neglecting to occupy the pass, it was arranged that 
 Cuesta should remain in Talavera to guard the wounded, 
 while Sir Arthur with his English troops countermarched to 
 engage Soult. All this was done under the persuasion that 
 Soult's force was, as the Spaniards represented it to be, 
 barely 14,000 or 15,000 strong. Por an encounter with 
 35,000, Sir Arthur was not prepared, particularly under 
 circumstances which might at any moment bring Victor and 
 Joseph upon his back. 
 
 Sir Arthur set out upon his bold enterprise on the morn- 
 ing of the 3rd. He reached Oropesa the same day, and 
 there, for the first time, heard the truth respecting the 
 enemy's strength. He was in a terrible scrape, and he 
 knew it. If Soult could only secure the bridge over the 
 Tagus at Almaraz, and Victor were to fall upon the Spaniards, 
 and disperse them, his own chances of covering Lisbon, or 
 even of saving the troops of which he was at the head, would 
 be small indeed. If on the other hand he could get before 
 Soult, break down the bridge and guard the fords, his retreat 
 by Arzobispo into Estremadura, and through Estremadura 
 into Portugal might be made good. It was an occasion 
 which called for all the promptitude to decide, and the vigour 
 of action, of which he was the master — and he did not fall be- 
 low it. Though not unaware that Soult's advanced guard was 
 considerably nearer than his own to the point in question, 
 and that while the French followed a well-made road, the 
 English would be obliged to scramble through rugged moun- 
 tain-passes, he directed General Craufurd with the light 
 division to push for Almaraz, while he himself with the rest 
 of the army turned round, and moved upon Arzobispo. 
 Craufurd and his division did their work admirably. They
 
 106 OVER THE TAGUS. [1809. 
 
 passed the mountains, came do^vn upon Almaraz, crossed the 
 river, and completed the destruction of the bridge, just as 
 the leading files of Mortier's cavalry appeared in sight. On 
 that side at least the safety of the British army was secured. 
 
 Leaving them there, I return to Sir Arthur, who was 
 pursuing his march towards Arzobispo, when he suddenly 
 encountered the whole of Cuesta's troops, hurrying to over- 
 take him. A somewhat stormy interview took place between 
 the two chiefs. Sir Arthur charged Cuesta with again vio- 
 lating his pledges — Cuesta assured Sir Arthur that anxiety, 
 lest the English should be overmatched in their combat with 
 Soult, had alone indiiced him to quit Talavera. They parted 
 in anger. Sir Arthur would not staj to fight in a position 
 where victory itself could bring no benefit to the cause. 
 Cuesta declared that he would accept battle from Soult, 
 single-handed. But an interval of 24; hours, in which the 
 English made good their progress across the Tagus, sufficed 
 to bring the old man to his senses. He also began, a little too 
 late, his retreat in the same direction, and though he succeeded 
 in getting the mass of his people over, it was by sacrificing 
 his rear-guard, on which Soult fell, and from which he took 
 30 pieces of cannon. 
 
 While the Spaniards were thus mismanaging their affairs, 
 Sir Arthur pursued his own coxirse. He made for Deleytosa, 
 where, during the 7th, 8th, and 9th, the scattered portions 
 of his army re-assembled ; and on the 11th he established 
 his head-quarters at Jaraicejo, on the great road through 
 Estremadura towards Badajoz and Lisbon. There he re- 
 mained nine days, giving time for the Spaniards to come 
 again into communication with him from Deleytosa ; and 
 occupying a line, which, with the bridges of Almaraz and 
 Arzobispo broken, and the fords well guarded, was, for pur- 
 poses of defence, excellent. For his eye was now fixed 
 steadily on Portugal. He expected that the enemy, massing 
 their force, would leave a single corps to protect Madrid, 
 and march with the rest upon Lisbon ; in which case he 
 detennined to resume the offensive, and to fight a battle at 
 all hazards. Eortimately for him, and perhaps for Europe, 
 the march upon Lisbon which Soult suggested, was not
 
 1S09.] NATURE OF THE CAMPAIGN. 107 
 
 undertaken by King Joseph. Apparently satisfied with re- 
 moving an immediate danger from himself, he broke ixp his 
 army into portions ; and Sir Arthur was, in consequence, 
 enabled to fall back at his leisure upon Badajoz, in the 
 villages round about which he placed his wearied troops. 
 
 Among all his campaigns perhaps there is not one in 
 which, more remarkably than in this of Talavera, Sir Arthur 
 Wellesley exhibited the several features of his grand mili- 
 tary character ; his prudence, not to call it deliberation, in 
 preparing ; his clear perception of the end to which his 
 operations ought to be directed ; his steady, rather than 
 energetic, movements, in bringing them to a head ; his skill 
 in the selection of a defensive position ; his wisdom in pro- 
 viding, as far as circumstances would allow, against contin- 
 gencies ; and the fortitude and energy with which, having 
 got into a scrape, he managed to set himself free from it 
 and to save his army. The delay at Abrantes was pro- 
 tracted to an extent which he himself deeply deplored. It 
 prevented, beyond all doubt, the execution of the plan on 
 which his heart was originally set. It enabled Victor to 
 escape beyond the Tagus, and threw him back upon his re- 
 sources. But Sir Arthur was not to blame for this. Indif- 
 ferently sxxpplied when he began his march against Soult, 
 he found himself, after the campaign of the Douro, all but 
 destitute. His men were naked and shoeless ; he lacked 
 horses, mules, and carriages ; he was without money, and 
 his hospitals were crowded with sick. So ill indeed was he 
 supported that supplies which ought to have reached him 
 from Lisbon in a few days, did not come up for a fortnight. 
 He heard also of reinforcements both of cavaby and infantry 
 in the river, yet week after week passed by and they failed 
 to make their appearance. At last he was compelled to 
 move without them, trusting to the promises of the Span- 
 iards for rations, which he had no means of carrying for 
 himself. A less cautious commander would have probably 
 made this move earlier ; and it is possible that, without 
 suffering more, he might have succeeded by a march up the 
 right bank of the Tagus, in placing Victor between two fires. 
 But this, looking to the sort of force with which he was
 
 108 EEMARKS. [1809. 
 
 about to co-operate, is by no means certain. Cuesta's army, 
 as Sir Arthur soon discovered, was little better than a 
 rabble. It could neither advance nor retire, except with 
 precipitation ; it was incapable of executing the simplest 
 manoeuvre in an enemy's presence. Had Cuesta brought it 
 close to Victor's rear, and Victor turned upon it, the dis- 
 persion of the Spaniards would have been certain. And 
 thus Sir Arthur must have found himself, with less than 
 20,000 men, in the air. Still there is no denying that his 
 halt at Abrantes was too much prolonged, and that oppor- 
 tunities escaped him, in consequence, which never came 
 again. But granting this, we grant all that in the campaign 
 of Talavera can be asked for as a fault. His progress after- 
 wards was as rapid as circumstances would allow ; and his 
 arrangements were excellent. Had the battle which he was 
 anxious to fight been fought on the 2ord, Cuesta would have 
 been in Madrid two days afterwards. And failing this, 
 Wellesley's determination not to go beyond the position of 
 Talavera was most judicious. Of his conduct during the 
 trying days of the 26th and 27th it is unnecessary to speak. 
 Cool, calm, self-possessed, he inspired everybody round him 
 witb perfect confidence, insomuch that among the troops, 
 left as they were by the Spaniards to starve, not a murmur 
 was heard. And finally, if in facing round upon Soult he 
 exhibited more of courage than of prudence, let it never be 
 forgotten, not only that Soult got into his rear, through the 
 misconduct of those who ought to have barred the way 
 against him, but that, in order to cloak their own blunders, 
 some of tbese, in their reports to head-quarters, greatly un- 
 derstated the strength of the corps which had threaded 
 the defile of Banos. As soon as he knew the truth Sir 
 Arthur's ptroceedings were as vigorous as wisely conceived. 
 It was a master's hand which pushed Craufurd through the 
 mountains on Almaraz. It was the inspiration of genius 
 which led to the oblique march upon Arzobispo, the descent 
 by the left bank of the river and the occupation of Deleytosa 
 and Jaraicejo. And when we further bear in mind, that 
 the Spanish army was not only of no use, but a positive 
 bindrance to hiiu all the while, that the inhabitants as he
 
 809.] HIS FORETHOUGHT. 109 
 
 passed along hid their provisions, and drove away their 
 animals, we find ourselves at a loss which to admire the 
 most, — the endurance of the men so circumstanced who kept 
 together, in a state well nigh of starvation, or the skill and 
 energy of their leader, who brought them out of such a 
 complication of difficulties without losing a gun or leaving 
 a single straggler behind. 
 
 The position which Sir Arthur had taken up near Badajoz 
 enabled him to watch two points, both of the greatest im- 
 portance. He was there upon one of the great roads to 
 Lisbon which passes through Estremadura, and he could 
 easily cross the Tagus and place himself on the other, should 
 the enemy make his approach by the left bank of the river. 
 At the same time he covered Cadiz, in which the central 
 Junta, driven out of Madrid and Seville, had taken refuge. 
 He retained that position therefore throughout the re- 
 mainder of the summer, notwithstanding the malaria which 
 infects the valley of the Gruadiana, and the large amount of 
 sickness, which partly on that account, partly as the natural 
 result of over-exertion, fell upon his army. He availed him- 
 self likewise of his proximity to Lisbon and to Cadiz, and 
 set off, as soon as the approach of winter freed him from the 
 immediate apprehension of being molested, to visit both 
 cities. The ostensible business which carried him to Lisbon 
 was to confer with the English Minister, and to press foi'ward 
 the recruitment and better organization of the Portuguese le- 
 vies. His real object was to select some position, the fortifica- 
 tion of which might render the Portuguese capital secure ; or, 
 if the worst came, would enable the British army to withdraw 
 unmolested from Portugal. Eor the state of Europe had 
 painfully aflfected the minds of public men at home, and 
 even he, resolute as he was, could not regard it with indifier- 
 ence. While therefore, in reply to questions addressed to 
 hiin from London, he continued to assure the Minister that 
 the game was still alive in the Peninsula, he considered it 
 necessary to provide against every possible contingency, and 
 to make such arrangements as should at once strengthen his 
 hold upon the country, and enable him at any moment to quit 
 it without loss or dishonour. It was under such circumstances,
 
 no LINES BEGUN AT TORRES VEDRAS. [1809. 
 
 and with a view to the accomplishment of such objects, that 
 the famous lines of Torres Vedras were marked out. And 
 though the work went forward many months, Portuguese 
 peasants executing what English engineers designed, so 
 well was the secret kept, that neither in the French army 
 nor in the English did any rumour get afloat that arrange- 
 ments of the sort Avere in progress. 
 
 Having settled this point to his own satisfaction, he 
 returned to head-quarters, and after an interval of two days 
 departed for Cadiz. Hitherto his brother. Lord "Wellesley, 
 had been accredited to the Spanish Grovernment. He was 
 now, in consequence of certain changes in the English ad- 
 ministration, about to take charge of the Foreign Ofiice at 
 home, and the political views of the brothers being generally 
 in accord, both felt that a personal interview would be de- 
 sirable. They met accordingly, and the public service bene- 
 fited for awhile by what then passed between them. Nor 
 was it with Lord Wellesley alone that Sir Arthur held con- 
 fidential communication. The members of the Spanish 
 G-overnment waited upon him singly and in a body, and 
 received, with apparent respect, the advice which he ofl"ered ; 
 and the advice which he oifered was indeed worthy of 
 all acceptation. He cautioned them against entertaining 
 schemes of aggressive warfare. He pointed out that troops 
 so imperfectly disciplined as theirs were unfit for the opera- 
 tions into which they were hurried, and could never be ren- 
 dered efficient till time was taken to organize and drill 
 them in positions comparatively safe. The chiefs of the 
 Spanish Grovernment appeared to be struck with the reason- 
 ableness of all his suggestions. They conferred on him the 
 rank of Captain- General in the Spanish army. They feted 
 him in public and in private, and applauded to the echo the 
 speech delivered in good Spanisli, wherein he acknowledged 
 the vote of thanks passed in his favour by the Junta. But 
 they did not cast dust in his eyes for a moment. " You'll 
 see what comes of all this," he observed to Lord Eitzroy 
 Somerset, as they came away together from the meeting, — 
 " these people will continue to believe that they are superior 
 to the French ; they will persist in fighting great battles as
 
 1809.] IN BEIRA. Ill 
 
 they have "heretofore done, and one after another their armies 
 will be destroyed." 
 
 It was at this time that Sir Arthur's brilliant services 
 received their first public recognition at the hands of the 
 Sovereign. He was raised to the British Peerage as Viscount 
 Wellington of "Wellington in Somersetshire. But the gra- 
 tification thence arising was a good deal dimmed by the 
 tidings of disaster which soon afterwards came in. The 
 Spanish Grovernment, which applauded while he spoke of 
 defensive warfare, entered immediately on his departure from 
 Cadiz on an ofi"ensive campaign. An attempt was made to 
 reconquer Madrid, which ended in the defeat and dispersion 
 of all the Spanish corps engaged in it. The consequence 
 was that the whole course of the Tagus became uncovered, 
 and Lisbon lay open to an attack against which he was un- 
 able from his position on the Gruadiana to protect it. He 
 broke up without hesitation and crossed the Tagus at 
 Abrantes. There he stationed General Hill to observe the 
 roads through Alemtejo, and to afibrd some show of protec- 
 tion to Badajoz ; while he himself took post in Beira, hav- 
 ing his loft in Guarda, and his right in Viseu. ^Finally, 
 the light division was thrown forward under Craufurd into 
 the valley of the Coa, with orders to watch the course of 
 the river, but to avoid unnecessary risks 5 on no account 
 to be drawn into a battle, and to fall back when seriously 
 threatened.
 
 112 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 OPENING OF THE CAMPAIGN FALL OF CIUDAD RODRIGO AND 
 
 ALMEIDA BATTLE OF BUSACO, RETREAT TO THE LINES. 
 
 In order to convey something like a correct idea of the 
 nature of the struggle in which Lord Wellington was engaged, 
 it will be necessary to interrupt for a moment the flow of my 
 narrative, and to describe in few words how the belligerents 
 stood in regard to the numbers and dispositions of the 
 corps gathered under their respective standards. 
 
 The Spaniards, beaten everywhere, and re-assembling only 
 to be dispersed again, could not show a muster-roll of more 
 than 70,000 men in the whole. Twelve thousand were at 
 Medellin in Estremadura, under the Due del Albuquerque ; 
 24,000, the remains of Ayerzago's corps, had come to- 
 gether at La Carolina ; 20,000, or thereabouts, fugitives 
 from del Parque's action on the Tormes, were at St Martin 
 de Trebejo, among the mountains of Sierre de Gaeta ; and 
 6000 or 8000 with General Mahy, at Astorga and Villa 
 Eranca. Ciudad Eodrigo and Badajoz both contained ade- 
 quate garrisons, and commanding the great roads through 
 Estremadura and Beira, were, in the existing aspect of 
 affairs, of the first importance. But these several Spanish 
 corps, besides that they lay wide apart, had all, with the ex- 
 ception of Albuquerque's, suffered recent defeats. They 
 were all in consequence too much demoralized to be depended 
 upon for active operations, either offensive or defensive. 
 Meanwhile the Portuguese army was fallen into a state well 
 nigh of inefficiency. The campaign of the previous summer
 
 1810.] STRENGTH OF HOSTILE AEMIES. 113 
 
 had shalien its disoipliue ; the men were in rags, and their 
 equipments terribly out of gear. About 15,000 of them who 
 had latterly been in observation near Ciudad-Eodrigo, suffered 
 so much from the refusal of the Spanish authorities to afford 
 supplies, that it was found necessary to withdraw and send them 
 to the rear. Hence the only force on which reliance could be 
 placed was the British army, of which not more than 16,700 
 infantry and 2800 cavalry were really effective. "With 
 these, as has just been explained. Lord Wellington posted 
 himself with his right in G-uarda, and his left towards the 
 Douro. His advanced guard lay in the valley of the Coa, 
 and General Hill, with an infantry division 4400 strong, re- 
 mained at Abrantes, on the Tagus. 
 
 Looking next to the French, we find that they were in a 
 condition to open the campaign with five well-appointed and 
 highly- disciplined army-corps, not including Joseph's guard 
 and the reserve. Soult, with 12,000 men, lay at Talavera, 
 Sebastiani,Victor, Mortier, the Guards, and the reserve, were 
 disposed about Madrid, and along the Tagus. They num- 
 bered in all about 65,000 men, and were, so to speak, in 
 Lord Wellington's immediate front. But in addition to 
 these, Ney was in Old Castile, with 32,000 men ; Augereau 
 in Catalonia, with 30,000 ; while Junot, with 27,000 more, 
 was on his march through France towards the Pp-enees. He 
 reached and crossed the mountains in January, 1810. 
 
 Here were odds enough against the British General, but 
 more remains to be told. The campaign of Wagram had 
 ended the Avar between France and Austria. Napoleon's 
 marriage with the Archduchess seemed to secure him against 
 further molestation on the side of Germany, and he was free 
 at any moment to throw the whole military power of the 
 empire into Spain. The British Grovernment, on the other 
 hand, had paralysed itself, and destroyed the finest army that 
 ever quitted the English shores, amid the marches of 
 Walcheren. Had the 40,000 men which composed that 
 army been sent, as common sense might have suggested, to 
 reinforce Lord Wellington, not the campaign of Talavera 
 alone, but the war of which it was an episode, might have 
 taken quite a different turn. But common sense entered
 
 lU LORD WELLINGTOX AND THE MINISTRY. [1810. 
 
 little in those days into the military policy of Great Britain, 
 Distrusting themselves, and harassed by an active opposi- 
 tion, the King's ministers were with difficulty dissuaded 
 from abandoning the Peninsular contest altogether ; indeed 
 it was only the firmness of Lord Wellington which saved his 
 country from that disgrace. To their inquiries, repeated 
 over and over again, whether he believed it possible to main- 
 tain himself in Portugal, now that Spain was virtually con- 
 quered, his answers were on every occasion the same. 
 " Give me such support as you can afford ; men, guns, stores, 
 and above all, money. Leave a fleet of transports in the 
 Tagus to guard against the worst, and I will undertake to 
 make my footing good ; and if I can't do this, depend upon 
 it that I will, when the proper time comes, bring off the 
 army without loss and without discredit." 
 
 The Duke's despatches are before the world, and all who 
 read may understand how entirely upon him rested the bur- 
 den of maintaining this most arduous struggle. And the 
 struggle, be it remembered, was for a far higher issue than 
 the mere deliverance of the Spanish Peninsula. It was the 
 last effort of Europe to make head against a tyranny before 
 which, up to that moment, principalities and powers had 
 gone down ; and the ebbs and flows which occurred in it, 
 were felt in every town and village throughout the civilized 
 world. A thousand questions arose out of it which Lord 
 Wellington alone was assumed to be capable of answering, and 
 to him appeals were continually made, by all who, for what- 
 ever reason, were interested in its results. Had he not 
 been the most methodical, as well as the most industrious, of 
 men, he never could have faced the amount of labour which 
 each new day brought with it. But one of his great qualifi- 
 cations for command, perhaps not the least telling of the 
 whole, was his rare skill in husbanding time. It may be 
 truly said of him, when at the head of an army, that he 
 never wasted an hour. He rose early, wrote letters and 
 despatches till breakfast-time ; saw the heads of departments 
 then, and arranged with them the details of the day ; then 
 returning to his bed-room continued his general correspond- 
 ence till two in the afternoon. Unless very hard pressed
 
 1810.] HIS HABITS. 115 
 
 ■with business, he would then get upon horseback, and ride 
 to the outposts, or wherever else he conceived that his pre- 
 sence might be necessary. At sis he dined — almost always 
 with guests more or less numerous round him ; and at nine, 
 or thereabouts, usually withdrew again to his own room. 
 There he continued at his desk till midnight, discussing all 
 that variety of topics which gives its peculiar interest to his 
 public correspondence ; and having done this, he slept. For 
 he possessed the invaluable faculty of throwing off at plea- 
 sure anxieties and cares ; and at any hour in the day or 
 night, in any attitude, and in any situation, he could sleep 
 when he pleased. 
 
 Lord "Wellington's constitution was excellent, and he 
 never overtaxed it by excesses. Temperate, rather than ab- 
 stemious, both in eating and drinking, he had his wits always 
 about him ; and without apparent inconvenience could go 
 as many as four-and-twenty hours at a time without tasting 
 food. He knew, however, that such was not the case with 
 men in general, and about no point was he more particular 
 than that his troops should be regularly fed, and their food 
 so dressed as to be at once nutritious and palatable. One of 
 liis orders of the day directs that vegetables should be pro- 
 vided for the men wherever that was possible, and that 
 the biscuits served out to them instead of bread should be 
 boiled with their meat. 
 
 I shall take occasion to show by and by how, later in the 
 war, he diversified this life of mental toil with field sports. 
 Affairs had not as yet become so settled as to admit of that 
 species of relaxation, but it was a principle with him to keep 
 both body and mind up to their proper mark ; and on that 
 account he never omitted to give to each a due measure, both 
 of the relaxation and of the exercise which it required. 
 For the same reason he encouraged among his officers every 
 pursuit which had a tendency to hinder them from becoming 
 indolent. The only restriction which he laid upon shooting 
 was, that gentlemen, fond of the sport, should be careful to 
 pursue it as they would have done had they been in England. 
 They were on no account to invade preserves without first 
 obtaining the leave of the proprietor. They were as little as
 
 116 CAMPAIGN OPENS. [1810. 
 
 possible to injure fences. When the fashion came in of get- 
 ting up plays and acting them, he gave to it every encour- 
 agement, and how he dealt -with balls, the reader -nill learn 
 in due time. All this, it will be observed, befell at times and 
 seasons of comparative repose. "When the armies were in 
 the field, marching and fighting gave occupation enough to 
 others, and kept him more continually in the saddle ; yet 
 even then his industry never relaxed ; his correspondence 
 was enormous. 
 
 So passed the winter of 1809-10. Early in the spring the 
 Prench began to move. The bulk of their force they threw 
 into Andalusia ; Joseph, Victor, Mortier, and Sebastiani, aU 
 taking part in that expedition. 'Ney, with Junot close at 
 hand to support him, faced Lord Wellington, while Soult, 
 from his cantonments at Talavera, threatened Estremadura. 
 It was the object of the march into Andalusia to surprise 
 Cadiz, and had the enemy used proper diligence, they would 
 have probably efieeted that object ; but after dispei'sing the 
 Spauisla corps under Ayerzaga, they loitered by the way and 
 so gave time for the Due del Albuquerque to throw a por- 
 tion of his army into Cadiz. Meanwhile Ney made such 
 demonstrations as decided Lord AVellington not to risk any- 
 thing in order to arrest Joseph in his movement. It might 
 be of some importance to the Spaniards to keep the enemy 
 at a distance from the place where their Government carried 
 on its deliberations ; but Lord Wellington was fighting the 
 battle, not of Spain, but of Europe, and his only chance of 
 fighting it successfully depended upon his being able to 
 retain his hold upon Lisbon. He paid no attention, there- 
 fore, to Albuquerque and Ayerzaga's applications for support, 
 but pressing forward the works at Torres Vedras, and em- 
 ploying upon them every peasant who could wield a spade or 
 a pickaxe, he stood upon the defensive at Beira, waiting till 
 the storm in his own immediate front should burst. 
 
 It was a maxim of the 1st Napoleon that war should sup- 
 port itself. Acting upon that principle, French armies 
 everywhere, more especially in Spain and Portugal, took with 
 them into the field only such a stock of provisions as each 
 man was able to carry about with him for his own use. The
 
 ISIO.] HIS PLAN OF DEFENCE. 117 
 
 practice had undoubtedly this to recommend it, that troops 
 so little encumbered could move with extraordinary rapidity. 
 It had, however, its disadvantages too, and upon the whole 
 tliese were found generally to overbalance their opposites. 
 Unless the march happened to be triumphant throughout, 
 and the communications of the army with its rear were kept 
 open, the men had nothing to depend upon after their cook- 
 ed provisions were consumed, except such supplies as the 
 country might afford. These sooner or later failed, and 
 serious privations necessarily followed. Lord Wellington 
 was fully alive to these facts, and upon them he grounded 
 in the main his system of defence. He exacted from the 
 Portuguese Government a promise that in the event of his 
 being obliged to retire, the whole country between Beira and 
 Torres Vedi'as should be laid waste. The retreat he undertook 
 to conduct so leisurely that time would be afforded for execut- 
 ing that stern purpose. But the purpose itself was on no 
 account to be evaded, the work of desolation must be com- 
 plete. Not a head of cattle, not a grain of corn, not a mor- 
 sel of food nor a flask of wine, must anywhere be left for the 
 enemy to profit by. Every mill, likewise, was to be burned 
 down, and every house emptied of its contents. Meanwhile 
 he could so arrange that the enemy should find it as difficult 
 to communicate with their rear, as to go forward ; and Por- 
 tugal would be saved, not more by the resistance offered in 
 the field than by the impossibility of living where all means 
 of subsistence were taken away. Nothing short of what he 
 owed to Portugal and to Europe could have induced Lord 
 "WelLiugton to fall upon this terrible device. It would have 
 been unnatural had either the Portuguese Government or 
 the Portuguese people acceded to it willingly. The latter 
 contemplated with dismay the loss of all which seemed to 
 make life valuable to them ; the former urged the command- 
 er of their armies to keep the war, if possible, from falling 
 into so hideous a course ; and well-disposed was he to act 
 upon the suggestion as long as it was possible so to do. 
 By sending General Hill towards Badajoz, he frustrated 
 the designs of Soult, who had moved from Talavera against 
 that place, and by and by, when Ney took the field, threaten-
 
 118 MARSHAL MASSEXA, [1810 
 
 ing Ciudad-Kodrigo, lie pushed Craufurd and the light division 
 across the Coa, and restrained him. But Napoleon, though 
 kept at home by the attractions of his Austrian bride, did 
 not entirely forget the Peninsula and its requirements. He 
 sent Massena,' by far the ablest of his marshals, to assume 
 the command of what was called the army of Portugal, and 
 both sides soon felt and acknowledged the vigour of the 
 band Avhich had undertaken the direction of affairs. It is 
 said of Massena that he accepted the command with reluct- 
 ance. He had acquired in the Italian wars a great name, 
 which must now be jeopardized ; for he dreaded alike the 
 impracticable tempers of his brother marshals, and the 
 renown of Lord Wellington. But he could not decline so 
 important a trust, and he came. 
 
 The army of Portugal when IMassena assumed the com- 
 mand consisted of the corps of Ney and Junot, numbering 
 between them 57,000 effective men. Its head-quarters were 
 established and a large magazine formed at Salamanca in the 
 month of May, and on the 1st of June it broke up, and 
 moved forward to invest Ciudad-Bodrigo. Great alarm was 
 felt for the safety of that place ; and anxiety expressed both 
 by the Spanish and Portuguese Governments, that Lord AVel- 
 lington should risk a general action in order to prevent the 
 siege. But Lord Wellington knew better than all the world 
 besides what he could and what he ought to do. Calmly, 
 iiud with the dignity which became his position, he refused 
 to be diverted from his own purposes. He wrote, indeed, to 
 General Mahey, urging him to harass from Galicia the ene- 
 my's communications, but he wrote in vain ; and he himself 
 advanced as far as Almeida, whence he continued, after the 
 place had been attacked, to throw supplies across the river 
 into Ciudad-Rodrigo. But further than this he would not 
 go. " I should be neglectful of my duty to the King, to 
 the Prince Eegent, and to the common cause, if I could per- 
 mit myself to be influenced by public clamour, or by fear, 
 so as to modify the system of operations which I have 
 adopted after mature deliberation, and which daily experience 
 proves to be the only one which can bring the matter to a 
 successful issue." The writer of this letter looked far be-
 
 1810.] LOED WELLINGTON'S FIRMNESS. 119 
 
 yond the objects Avhich engrossed tlie attention of other 
 men. They thought of things present, he of distant results ; 
 they dreaded the loss of a town and the momentary forfeiture 
 of prestige, he considered how most surely a great war might 
 be carried on and brought to a successful issue. There is 
 but one parallel in history to firmness like this, a thousand 
 times more rare than the sort of courage w^hich prompts 
 men to face personal danger without flinching. " If you be 
 a great General," said Sylla to Marius, " come and fight 
 me." " If you be a great Greneral," said Marius to Sylla, 
 " compel me to fight you." 
 
 Massena was too much master of his art not to desire 
 what Lord Wellington declined to afi'ord. He tried every 
 possible expedient to tempt the English army into an 
 aggressive movement, and then, failing to accomplish that 
 end, he pressed the siege. His first parallel was opened 
 in the night between the 15th and 16th of June, and on the 
 11th of July the place surrendered. Meanwhile Greneral 
 Mortier, who commanded a corps of Soult's army at Merida, 
 moved towards the Tagus, and was followed by Hill. The 
 two, marching upon parallel lines, crossed the river almost 
 at the same time, and on the 18th faced one another in 
 Lower Beira ; while in Upper Beira the main armies stood 
 like pieces on a chess-board, waiting till the minds of the 
 players should be made up in regard to their game. 
 
 The fall of Ciudad-Eodrigo inflicted a severe wound on 
 Spanish pride, and vehemently the English General was 
 blamed for it. He cared little for censure which he knew 
 to be undeserved, but adverse events began to multiply 
 upon him and to try his temper. General Craufurd, who 
 lay with a single division in advance of the Coa, suff"ered 
 himself to be drawn into a battle, and with difiiculty 
 escaped across the river. He handled his men well in the 
 face of tremendous odds, but his combat was a mistake, and 
 might have been attended with fatal consequences. Then 
 followed the forward movement of the whole French army, 
 before which Lord Wellington retired, and by and by Al- 
 meida was invested. Lord "Wellington had taken great 
 pains to strengthen and supply the place. Portuguese troops
 
 120 LOSS OF ALMEIDA. [1810. 
 
 formed the garrison, with an English officer at their head, 
 and he (Cohjuel Cox), equally with his chief, counted on be- 
 ing able to hold out for many weeks. But both had de- 
 ceived themselves. On the 15th of August the trenches 
 were opened, on the 2Gth a shell exploded a powder maga- 
 zine, and on the 2Sth the garrison mutinied, and insisted 
 upon opening the gates. And so 5000 unwounded men 
 laid down their arms without striking a blow. 
 
 The loss of Almeida under such circumstances was a 
 catastrophe on which Lord Wellington had never counted. 
 It seriously deranged his plans, for he had determined to 
 attack Massena while busy with the siege, and if he could 
 not save the place, at all events to carry off the garrison. 
 Massena, on the contrary, gained by his conquest what he 
 was already beginning to need, a supply of provisions, and 
 an excellent base of future operations. It can hardly be 
 said that he made the most of these advantages, for, carried 
 away as it would seem with the desire to possess himself of 
 the English depots at Coimbra also, he crossed the Mon- 
 dego at Celerico, and took the road to Viseu. Meanwhile 
 Lord Wellington, retiring upon Alva, there gathered in all 
 his detachments, and anticipating his pursuers, marched into 
 the position of Busaco. It is a range of precipitous heights, 
 intersected here and there with valleys, through one of whicli 
 runs the road from Viseu to Coimbra, and it extends from 
 right to left about four English miles, having a convent on one 
 flank and a village on the other. There he determined to 
 make a stand. His own troops were beginning to murmur 
 because their G-eneral appeared to distrust them, and the 
 Portuguese G-overnment had but imperfectly fulfilled his 
 wish in making a desert of the country in his rear. Now 
 it was to this more than to success in the field that he 
 trusted for saving Portugal, and it was of the utmost con- 
 sequence that the work of devastation should be done by 
 the Portuguese themselves. For these two reasons, there- 
 fore, in order to raise the spirits of his own men, and to 
 gain a day or two in which the Portuguese authorities 
 might perform what they had undertaken to do, he resolved
 
 ISIO.] BUSACO. 121 
 
 to accept a battle, should Massena, as lie fully expected, 
 commit the mistake of delivering one. 
 
 When all were assembled, including Hill's corps, and a 
 Portuguese division which had guarded the passes of the 
 Tagus, Lord Wellington was able to bring into line about 
 50,000 men. Massena, reinforced by Mortier, had under his 
 orders rather more than 70,000, and if Napoleon's directions 
 had been followed, Soult, with 30,000 more, would have 
 been by this time through Estremadura, threatening Lisbon 
 from the left of the Tagus. But Soult, affecting to consider 
 the reduction of Cadiz as his proper work, paid no heed to 
 Napoleon's instructions, and escaped thereby the mortifi- 
 cation of serving under a rival whom he hated. Seventy 
 thousand against 50,000 were, however, long odds, and Mas- 
 sena, looking at the composition of the two hosts, counted 
 upon them as more than enough to render victory secure. 
 Accordingly after some delay, which told in Lord Welling- 
 ton's favour, he launched his masses on the 27th against the 
 English position. His order of battle was not good. He 
 attacked in two heavy columns so arranged that they were 
 unable to support one another ; and each, before it found 
 time to deploy, was crushed by the fire of the English line. 
 The results seem never for a moment to have been doubtful. 
 The Erench were beaten at all points, and slept that night 
 at the foot of a ridge, in attempting to carry which they had 
 lost between 4000 and 5000 men. 
 
 Lord Wellington fought this battle, not unaware that the 
 ground on which he had planted himself could be turned by 
 the left. The same idea appears to have presented itself to 
 Massena's mind after the battle had begun, and the report 
 of a cavalry patrol assured him next day that he could 
 pass safely through a defile on his right into the great 
 Lisbon road, midway between Coimbra and Oporto. He 
 made arrangements to take advantage of the circumstance ; 
 aiad as soon as darkness closed in on the 28th, struck into 
 the defile. The movement would have cost the enemy dear 
 had Lord Wellington's orders been properly obeyed. Eor 
 he had instructed Colonel Trant to block the mouth of the
 
 122 TlUXrS MISTAKE. [1810. 
 
 defile ^vith a body of Portuguese Militia. But Trant, misled 
 by false intelligence, had deviated from his instructions, and 
 fjiiled to arrive within sight of his proper post till after the 
 head of the French column had taken possession of it. The 
 blunder might have led to serious results had a less far- 
 seeing Greneral been compromised by it. But in the pre- 
 sent instance no great harm arose. A glance over the 
 ground where the enemy had bivouacked on the 28th 
 showed Lord Wellington, on the morning of the 29th, how 
 the case stood, and without a moment's delay or hesitation, 
 he put his army in full march to the rear. There was no 
 hurry, no confusion, no dismay, yet the scene was through- 
 out as melancholy as it was striking. In front of Lord 
 Wellington's columns the great mass of the population 
 moved, carrying with them such goods as they were able to 
 transport, and destrojdng the rest. Men, women, and chil- 
 dren were there with cattle and sheep urged onwards at 
 their utmost speed, till the country in rear of the troops, 
 when they looked back upon it, became as it were a desert. 
 On the 8th of October, having been little pressed and seldom 
 engaged except with his cavalry, Lord Wellington entered 
 the lines.
 
 123 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 LIXES OP TORRES VEDRAS. 
 
 The force which Lord TVeilington carried with him into 
 the lines amounted to 50,000 men. The arrival not long 
 afterwards of 5000 English, and as many Spanish infantry, 
 raised it to 60,000, a considerable army, doubtless, had it 
 been trustworthy in all its parts ; yet, even in that case, by 
 110 means too large, for the position which it was called upon 
 to hold. But the Portuguese were still far inferior to what 
 they afterwards became, and on Romana's Spaniards, the 
 wreck of a beaten host, little reliance coidd be placed. 
 Massena followed close with 55,000, all that remained of the 
 70,000 with which he had opened the campaign. His aston- 
 ishment, when he beheld the formidable chain of works 
 which barred his onward progress, it would be difficult to 
 describe. Till that moment he had never heard that works 
 of any sort were begun. He expected that before evacu- 
 ating the country Lord AVellington would risk another bat- 
 tle, and assuming that the battle would be fought upon a 
 fair field, he entertained no misgivings as to the result. The 
 apparition, therefore, of a redoubt on every height, of streams 
 dammed and abbatis laid down, struck him with dismay. 
 Perhaps, indeed, if he had not suffered so severely in the battle 
 of Busaco, the lines as they were at that moment might have 
 been held in less respect ; for they were very far indeed from 
 being what in the course of the winter they became. But 
 the memory of recent disaster was too fresh to permit of his 
 incurring out of hand the risk of a similar calamity. So he
 
 12-1 IX THE LINES. [1810. 
 
 halted, put his troops into position, reconnoitred, and threw 
 away his only chance of success. 
 
 From that date up to the middle of November the two 
 armies continued to face one another. The English, supplied 
 from the fleet, fared upon the whole well ; the Prench soon 
 began to experience the terrible effects of Lord AYelling- 
 ton's policy. Carrying no stores with them, they ate up in 
 a day or two all the provisions that could be found in the 
 neighbourhood of the camp, and were di'iven to collect sup- 
 plies from a distance. Whole battalions were employed in 
 that demoralizing service, with, however, but indifterent suc- 
 cess. Then the horses began to die for lack of forage, 
 and the men, ill fed and worse clothed, crowded the hospitals. 
 Meanwhile swarms of partisans gathered in their rear. 
 Their convoys were attacked, their foraging parties harassed, 
 their communications with Spain interrupted, till their 
 brave and skilful chief was forced in the end to acknowledge 
 that the anticipations of evil which had haunted him when first 
 approaching the enterprise, were more than realized. 
 
 Though the English army enjoyed all this while as 
 much repose as is consistent with service in the field, it 
 may be doubted whether their leader was ever exposed to 
 greater annoyance from the vacillations of his own Grovern- 
 ment, and the exceeding short-sightedness, not to use a 
 stronger term, of the Governments of the two Peninsular 
 nations. In London, and indeed throughout England gen- 
 erally, the gloomiest anticipations were formed. Nobody 
 could believe that a handful of men, forced into a corner 
 within 20 miles of Lisbon, would be able many days to hold 
 its ground against the united strength of the French Empire ; 
 for the Emperor had at that moment no other war upon his 
 hands, and it was difiicult to believe that any exertion would 
 be considered too great for the expulsion of the English 
 from Portugal. Indeed so deeply were the British ministers 
 impressed with this belief, that Lord Liverpool, then Secre- 
 tary of State for "War and the Colonies, wrote to say, that 
 " the re-embarkation of the army would probably begin 
 about September." The Portuguese Government, on the 
 other hand, became clamorous for the resumption of offensive
 
 1810.J MISCOXDUCT OF THE GOTERXMENT?. 125 
 
 operations. They denounced the retreat to Torres Yedras 
 as an act of treason, and found the people whose houses had 
 been burned and their property destroyed, willing enough 
 to believe that protection from the English was as intoler- 
 able as submission to the Prench. Lord Wellington's cor- 
 respondence shows how severely the weakness of the Eng- 
 lish and the wickedness of the Portuguese Cabinets tried 
 him. Eor not the least curious incident in a series of mis- 
 takes was this, that the same minister who spoke of a 
 speedy retreat from the Continent pressed the British 
 General to lessen the expenses of the war, by sending home 
 the transports without which retreat would be impossible. 
 If the Portuguese Eegencyhad gone no further than to heap 
 censure on his plan of campaign, Lord Wellington could have 
 afforded to treat their arrogance with contempt ; but when 
 he found that with a view to embarrass him, the Portuguese 
 troops were starved, he considered it necessary to speak out. 
 He wrote to Brazil, complaining to the King of the miscon- 
 duct of his representatives, and threatened the Eegency with 
 withdrawing from the country unless they treated him better. 
 As to the Spanish Government, he had long learned that 
 reasoning and remonstrance were alike unavailing in that 
 quarter. Undisciplined mobs were still thrust into situa- 
 tions where they were powerless to effect anything, till by 
 and by Spanish armies, properly so called, ceased to exist. 
 Certainly Lord AYellington's prospects were at this time, in 
 all men's eyes except his own, desperate. He himself never 
 lost heart. " With the sea open to me," he used to write, 
 " and tonnage enough in the Tagus, I can never be in much 
 danger. Every day that we can manage to hold our own in 
 this country, is an immense gain to us, and a great loss to 
 the enemy, for Europe won't bear the oppression with which 
 it is treated for ever, and the first serious check which 
 Buonaparte meets with, will give the signal for a general 
 rising against him. It is not very generous of the Minis- 
 ters to throw the responsibility of continuing the war upon 
 me ; that is what the Government ought to bear, whose ser- 
 vant I am ; but I don't care, I am ready to take it, as they 
 will have it so, and have no fear about the result."
 
 126 WANT OF MONEY. [1810 
 
 Perhaps the greatest inconvenience which Lord Welling- 
 ton suftered at that time, arose from his "want of money. 
 Nations Avhioh wage war as England does, and let us hope 
 that she will never be induced to change her system, expect 
 that their troops will pay for all that they require, even in 
 an enemy's country ; and the rule ia doubly binding when 
 they operate among friendly people. But the English 
 Grovernment is apt to forget that there is no possibility 
 of adhering to this system, if the military chest be empt)-. 
 " I do not," wrote Lord Wellington to Lord Liverpool, 
 " receive one sixth part of the money which is required 
 to keep so great a machine in motion." " I cannot get on 
 unless more money is sent." " I am in debt to every- 
 body, and cannot command the commonest necessaries, un- 
 less I follow the example of the enemy, and take what I 
 require with the strong hand." But this manner of pro- 
 ceeding, besides being entirely opposed to his own sense of 
 right, would have proved to him, as it did to the French, a 
 source of the gravest inconvenience. He therefore set him- 
 self to remedy the evil as well as he could ; and by establish- 
 ing a sort of paper currency, and encouraging American 
 ships to bring corn into the Tagus, he managed to keep his 
 army, and even the inhabitants of Lisbon, supplied at a time 
 when, but for his exertions, they must have equally starved. 
 
 Another subject gave a good deal of annoyance to Lord 
 "Wellington at this time. The Spanish colonies in South 
 America had long desired to open a direct trade with Eng- 
 land, and English merchants, indifferent as they are apt to 
 be to other considerations than those of their own interests, 
 encouraged the colonists in that disposition. By little and 
 little, an illicit free trade led to colonial revolt, and then the 
 question between Spain and England became complicated. 
 Lord Wellington's views of the case were as just as they were 
 liberal. He deprecated at such a moment the tacit sanction 
 which his own G-overnment had given to what the laws of the 
 Spanish monarchy foi-barle, while he resisted the demand of the 
 Spanish Kegency, that England should co-operate with them 
 in putting down the insurrection. " AVhatever," he says, "may 
 be the relations which are ultimately established between
 
 ISIO.] WILL XOT EXPOSE HIS TROOPS. 127 
 
 Spain and lier colonies, the general result must be to dimin- 
 ish, if not to extinguish, the foreign commerce of the Penin- 
 sula, a circumstance from which it is certain that Grreat 
 Britain alone can profit. Neither can it be doubted that 
 the colonies may separate from the mother country at any 
 moment they please. It will be an act of madness, there- 
 fore, in Spain, if she seek to hinder that separation by force, 
 and it will be equally foolish in England to second, or even 
 to encourage, such an attempt. The latter, however, may, 
 by her influence and advice, prevent matters from arriving 
 at this extremity, but she should attempt nothing more than 
 to dissuade Spain from having recourse to violence." 
 
 In dealing with these questions, and others which arose 
 out of them, such as the national antipathy between the 
 Portuguese and the Spaniards, and the impatience of his 
 own Government for action in some shape or another. Lord 
 Wellington's mind was kept continually on the stretch. 
 More than once he seems to have arrived at the conclusion 
 that, in order to stop the mouths of the opposition at home, 
 and of his enemies in Portugal, it would become necessary 
 to assume the offensive. His better judgment, however, 
 prevailed, and he abstained from risking a battle. His 
 reasoning, as expressed in various letters to the Government 
 at home, was this : — " I have no doubt, as matters stand at 
 present, that I am strong enough to beat the French. But 
 by exposing my troops, at this inclement season, to the rains 
 for even three days and nights, I am sure to bring sickness 
 among them. My gain will be that by defeating Massena 
 and Soult I shall free both the northern provinces and 
 Andalusia from the presence of the French, But this it 
 is probable that I shall effect in the common course of 
 events, without risking the loss of a battle, which woidd 
 compromise us altogether. Besides, looking to what oc- 
 curred after the last campaign, I do not see that our condi- 
 tion will be materially bettered by the evacuation of these 
 provinces. "WTien Castile and the north of Spain were 
 freed from French troops, they did not raise a man or strike 
 a blow for the common cause. If all this be true, our in- 
 terests do not require that we should fight the French army,
 
 128 BIDES HIS TIME. [1810. 
 
 ■which Tve should certaiuly not be able to drive out of the 
 Peninsula ; but that we should give as much occupation as 
 possible to the largest portion of that army, and leave oflen- 
 sive operations to be carried on by the guerillas. So long 
 as the French do not threaten our means of subsistence, or 
 the resources of the Portuguese Government, or anything 
 else which affects our security, it is a matter of indifference 
 to us whether they remain iu Spain or Portugal. I believe, 
 indeed, looking to the increased difficulties which they ex- 
 perience in subsisting themselves in the latter country and 
 keeping open their communications, that it is of advantage 
 to us that they should remain where they are. Their num- 
 bers diminish from day to day ; they do us no harm ; we are 
 nearer to our supplies than we have ever yet been ; and all 
 the north of Spain is open to the operations of the guerillas." 
 The soundness of this reasoning could not be called in ques- 
 tion, and there was additional ground for remaining on the 
 defensive in the considerations, first, that the Portuguese 
 troops were as yet imperfectly disciplined, and, next, that 
 his attack, if made at all, must be made without artillery. 
 For the enemy's position was, in this respect, as good as his 
 own. Both were alike inaccessible to guns ; while victory 
 itself would have carried the conquerors only into a country 
 utterly exhausted. The single contingency, indeed, which 
 Lord Wellington in his lines had reason to dread, was the 
 junction of Soult with Massena ; and even in that case he 
 believed himself strong enough to keep both at bay. He 
 therefore restrained the ardour of his men, wrote cheerfully 
 to his own Government, compelled the Portuguese Eegency 
 to observe at least the appearance of moderation, and bided 
 his time.
 
 129 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 MASSENA's retreat FUENTBS d'ONORE. 
 
 Massena had borne up with, wonderful patience against 
 the difficulties of his situation for more than two months. 
 He held on amid sickness and want, in the hope either that 
 Soult would come to his assistance from Andalusia, or that 
 Foy, whom he had sent to Paris with information for the 
 Emperor, would return and bring with him fresh instruc- 
 tions. Neither event befell, and yielding to a necessity 
 which could no longer be resisted, he changed his ground. 
 He could not, indeed, venture as yet to abandon the enter- 
 prise upon which he had been thrust. He had no longer 
 the faintest hope of succeeding, but a retreat into Spain 
 Avithout positive orders from Napoleon was a step which he 
 was reluctant to take. He contented himself, therefore, 
 with falling back to Santarem ; and throwing a bridge over 
 the Zezere at Punhete, re -opened his communications 
 with Almeida and Ciudad-Eodrigo. This he managed to 
 eifect about the middle of November, though not without 
 incurring great hazard, for his troops were led of necessity 
 through various defiles, amid the entanglement of which a 
 contest would have been very disastrous. But Lord Wel- 
 lington, seeing the enemy in the toils, abstained from attack- 
 ing him. He had, after mature deliberation, formed his 
 own plan, and the prospect of an immediate and partial success 
 was insufficient to draw him away from it. Wherefore, fol- 
 lowing Massena at a respectful distance, and satisfying him- 
 self that it was the enemy's intention to linger on where 
 they halted, he fell back again and resumed his old position. 
 
 9
 
 130 MASSEXA'S DIFFICULTIES. [1810 
 
 So passed the winter of ISIO. Lord AVellingtou -would 
 risk nothing, Massena could attempt nothing. The former 
 continued to strengthen his lines, and threw up a new chain 
 of works on the further side of the Tagus. The latter- de- 
 voted all his time and energies to provide common neces- 
 saries for the troops of which he was at the head. By and 
 by, on the 5th of February, Greneral Foy re-entered the camp 
 with intelligence that no help was to be expected from 
 Prance. Misunderstandings had arisen between Napoleon 
 and the Emperor of Russia, and Napoleon was already pre- 
 paring for that march into the North of Europe which he 
 soon afterwards began. Here, then, was the fulfilment of 
 Lord Wellington's prophecy, often repeated, yet nowhere 
 believed. It was the continued resistance of the Peninsular 
 nations Avhich encouraged Alexander to withstand the de- 
 mands of Napoleon ; it was from the camp fires of the Eng- 
 lish army, as it lay through that long winter on the hills 
 of Torres Yedras, that the torch was carried which set 
 Northern Europe in a flame. Had Lord Wellington been 
 less firm than he was, the feeble Grovernment which he served 
 would have withdrawn him from the Peninsula ; and with the 
 final abandonment of their cause by the English the resist- 
 ance of the Peninsular nations would have ceased. There 
 would have been no Russian war in that case, nor, as far as 
 human sagacity can discover, any chance of freedom for contin- 
 ental Europe during the lifetime of the Prench Emperor. 
 
 Cut oft" by this information from all hope of support else- 
 where, Massena derived small comfort from the assurance 
 that Soult, Drouet, and Dorsenne, had received peremptory 
 orders to concentrate round him. He knew too well the 
 tempers of his brother Marshals to expect hearty co-opera- 
 tion from them, and he was right. Soult refused to marcli 
 upon Abrantes. He yielded, indeed, so far to the Avill of Ids 
 master as to convert the siege of Cadiz into a blockade, 
 and to carry 15,000, instead of 30,000, men into Estremadura. 
 And there he loitered to disperse the bands of Ballasteros 
 and Mendizabel ; to reduce Merida and 01iven9a, and to lay 
 siege to Eadnjoz. But he never brought a man into commu- 
 nication with Massena, nor ever intended so to do. Drouet
 
 1810.] MASSENA IN KETREAT. 131 
 
 and Dorsenne in like manner came np slowly, and brought; 
 BO supplies with them. Joseph alone marched briskly upon 
 Alcantara, but no good arose out of the movement. Long 
 before the feasibility of Napoleon's plan could be tested, 
 Massena's powers of endurance gave way, and that retreat 
 began of which it is not too much to say that it decided the 
 issues of the great war in the Peninsula. I must leave the 
 historian to describe in detad how this retreat was con- 
 ducted. It began on the evening of the 4th of March, and 
 continued without a pause till the 16th. So far as military 
 skill was concerned it was admirably managed. The Duke 
 often spoke of it afterwards, as fully bearing out the great re- 
 putation which Massena had acquired elsewhere. " I could 
 never catch him napping. Wherever I least desired him to 
 be, there he surely was, and he chose his ground so well 
 that it always cost time, which in such cases is invaluable, 
 to dislodge him. He made excellent use of his cavalry too, 
 in which he was strong, and once employed a portion of it 
 — the only occasion, by the way, in which I ever saw the 
 dragoon put to his legitimate use — as infantry. But the 
 dismounted dragoons made a poor fight of it. They tried 
 to keep a wooded hill not far from Alcoba9a, and a few com- 
 panies of the Bifle Brigade,. the old 95th, you know, soon 
 drove them away. I never had much idea of the dragoon 
 while w^e had him in our own service, and after the exhibi- 
 tion which he made of himself at Alcoba9a, I certainly 
 should not like to see him re-introduced among us." 
 
 It was not till the 6th, when he cautiously entered San- 
 tarem, that Lord Wellington became convinced that Mas- 
 sena was in full retreat. As soon as that fact became 
 plain to him, he despatched a messenger to Badajoz, urging 
 the Governor to hold out to the last extremity, and assur- 
 ing him of speedy relief. And a stout column, under the or- 
 ders of Marshal Beresford, crossed the Tagus on the 8th, 
 and marched towards the beleaguered town. But Don Jose 
 de Imar, the Governor of Badajoz, proved to be a traitor. 
 On the 10th tidings reached him from Elvas that Beresford 
 was at hand, and on the 11th, before a practicable breach 
 had been effected, he opened his gates. This cruel act proved,
 
 132 ATROCITIES BY FRENCH SOLDIERS. [1811 
 
 both in its immediate and more remote consequences, extreme- 
 ly inconvenient to Lord Wellington. It exposed Marshal 
 Beresford to great danger, which he escaped only through 
 Soult'a mistake, in breaking up the besieging army prema- 
 turely ; it cost many valuable lives later in the season to re- 
 pair the mischief which had been done. Lord Wellington, 
 however, as he knew nothing of the treason while it was 
 hatching, so he did not permit the news of its consumma- 
 tion to interfere with his arrangements. He continued the 
 pursuit of Massena, fighting him at Pombal, at Eedinha, and 
 again at Fonz d'Arunce, where on the 16th he was compelled, 
 through fiiilure of stores of every kind, to halt till his sup- 
 plies could overtake him. 
 
 If the French behaved gallantly as soldiers during this 
 retreat, their conduct as men cannot be sufficiently repro- 
 bated. It seemed, indeed, as if from the date of their en- 
 trance into Portugal, they had ceased to think as well as 
 to act like human beings. No doubt the devastation of the 
 country through which they advanced astonished and en- 
 raged them, and for excesses committed when driven to 
 seek for food at the point of the bayonet, some faint excuse 
 may be urged ; but their wanton outrages in every town 
 and village, their brutal conduct to the women, their 
 slaughter of men and even of infants, stand without a 
 parallel in the records of crime. Not content with plun- 
 der, arson, murder, they seemed to take a savage delight in 
 leaving traces of their guilt behind. The very wells they 
 poisoned by casting into them the bodies of the slain, and 
 into many ovens which our men opened in search of bread, 
 they found tliat dead bodies had been thrust. 
 
 Lord Wellington's compulsory halt, which lasted several 
 days, enabled Massena to get his broken masses into some- 
 thing like order. He took up a position on the further side 
 of the Guarda mountains, whence he had it in his power 
 either to connect himself with Joseph by moving towards 
 Alcantara, or to continue his retreat upon Ciudad-Rodrigo. 
 He was thus circumstanced when, on the 20th, the English 
 threading the passes of the hiUs showed themselves in full 
 march to attack him. He did not await the onset. Tiie
 
 ISll] THREATENS ALMEIDA AND CIUDAD-RODEIGO. 133 
 
 Coa was in liis rear, he crossed it, and at Sabugal was 
 brought to action. Through some mismanagement on the 
 part of the English he contrived to slip away, and to escape, 
 with the loss of the whole of his artillery, first to Ciudad- 
 Eodrigo, and by and by to Salamanca. 
 
 "With Almeida and Ciudad-Eodrigo both in the enemy's 
 hands, the position of the English army on the Portuguese 
 frontier was no longer what it used to be. Badajoz, likewise, 
 instead of protecting, menaced them from the side of Estre- 
 madura. Indeed Lord Wellington felt that, before anything 
 further could be done, he must recover these places, let the 
 cost of life be what it might. With regard to Almeida, and 
 even to Ciudad-Eodrigo, he had good hope. The first was 
 known to be so ill supplied, that a fortnight's blockade 
 would suffice to reduce it ; the last, it was understood, had 
 been pretty well emptied of provisions by Massena's troops, 
 as they swept through it. Lord Wellington, therefore, ef- 
 fected the investment of Almeida with one division, and 
 with the rest of the army crossed the Coa, and threatened 
 Ciudad-Eodrigo. Massena, however, had been too much on 
 the alert to leave these places at the enemy's mercy. His 
 first act after reaching Salamanca, was to send supplies to 
 Ciudad-Eodrigo, which arrived on the very day that the 
 English passed the Coa. A halt was accordingly ordered, 
 and for a brief space the Erench and English armies rested 
 from their labours. 
 
 There was rest for others, there was none for Lord Wel- 
 lington. Unsatisfactory tidings came in from the further 
 side of the Tagus. Beresford, after defeating a Erench di- 
 vision at Campo Major, had been drawn into a false position 
 on the Guadiana, and was in danger. On the 14th of 
 April Lord Wellington mounted his horse at Villa Eor- 
 mosa. He arrived at Beresford's head-quarters on the l7th ; 
 on the 18th he put the corps in march towards Badajoz ; 
 and on the 20th he was at Elvas taking account of the re- 
 sources which it could furnish. The 22nd saw him, in com- 
 pany with Beresford, closely reconnoitring the fortress, and 
 arranging a plan of siege ; and on the 25th he was back 
 again on the frontiers of Castile, where his presence was
 
 134 MASSEXA MOVES FORWARD. [1811. 
 
 sorely needed. G-enerally speaking Lord "Wellington's in- 
 telligence proved better than that of the French throughout 
 the war. At this particular juncture the enemy seems to 
 have had many spies in the English camp, and the departure 
 of Lord Welling-ton, as well as the route which he had taken, 
 were immediately communicated to Marshal Massena. He 
 believed that an opportunity was afforded of relieving Al- 
 meida, and he hastened to take advantage of it. The rapid- 
 ity with which the French refitted after every disaster, de- 
 serves the highest praise. Soult, escaping from Oporto, 
 was in a condition to take the field again within a fortnight, 
 and Massena had already collected at Salamanca, men, horses, 
 and guns, which rendered him superior to the English in 
 cavalry by three to one, and in infantry by not less than two 
 to one. If, with such odds in his favour, he could bring the 
 English to action, especially during the absence of their 
 great chief, there seemed no reason to doubt that he should 
 overthrow them. And whether overthrowing them or not, 
 he should certainly be able to revictual Almeida, and put 
 it out of danger. But Massena had not reckoned upon the 
 rapidity with which Lord Wellington travelled. A succession 
 of heavy rains, likewise, swelled the rivers, and rendered the 
 roads all but impassable. It was the 30th of April, there- 
 fore, before he could reach Ciudad-Eodrigo, and only on the 
 2nd of May the Aqueda was crossed. It was too late. 
 Lord Wellington, with 28,142 infantry, and 1631 cavalry, 
 took post upon some strong ground, having the Dos Casos 
 with its steep banks in its front, and the Tormes with its 
 banks equally steep in his rear. His left rested on Port 
 Conception, his right upon the boggy woods of Pozzo Bello. 
 Massena saw that the convoy which he was conducting 
 could not possibly be introduced into Almeida without a 
 struggle. He did not decline the challenge. On the 3rd he 
 attacked the village of Euentc^ d'Honore, an advanced 
 work, so to speak, in the English centre, and failing to 
 carry it, threw himself, on the 5th, with great fuiy upon the 
 boggy wood, A desperate conflict ensued. The English, 
 borne back by superior numbers, changed their whole order 
 of battle, and repelled over and over again every effort to
 
 1811.] ALMEIDA EVACUATED. 135 
 
 break tlirougli them. Night put an end to the firing, and 
 it was spent by the English in throwing up field-works. 
 Hence, when the morning of the 6th broke, Massena shrank 
 from renewing the contest. He felt that the purpose of his 
 forward movement had been defeated. The provisions which 
 he was escorting for the benefit of the garrison of Almeida 
 his own people had consumed, and the means of procuring 
 more, even for present use, were wanting. He contented him- 
 self, tlierefore, with getting instructions conveyed to General 
 Brennier, who commanded in the beleaguered fortress, to 
 fight his way out of it, after destroying the works ; and 
 then marched away, recrossing the Aqueda, and returning 
 to his old quarters at Salamanca. 
 
 Greneral Brennier duly received Marshal Massena's in- 
 structions, and acted upon them skilfully and bravely. He 
 liad before him a good ofiicer too ; but General Campbell's 
 pickets appear to have been less on the alert than became 
 them, for about midnight on the 16th, the enemy broke 
 through them, and pushed rapidly for the Aqueda. At the 
 same time a loud explosion announced that the fortifications 
 of Almeida were blown up, and a scene of something like 
 confusion followed. The blockading troops turned out, and 
 foUoAved the enemy, skirmishing with their rear. They 
 could not succeed, however, in bringing them to a stand, and 
 by and by 1400 French infantry passed the river at the 
 Barca del Puerca, and were safe with the 2nd Prench corps, 
 which lay on the opposite side to receive them. 
 
 It was not, however, in Beira alone that hostilities went 
 forward briskly at this time. Marshal Beresford, it will be 
 recollected, had been left by Lord "Wellington in Estrema^ 
 dura to overawe Soult and to besiege Badajoz. Blake and 
 Castanos lay at Val Verde, having under their orders about 
 17,000 ill-armed and undisciplined Spaniards. "With these 
 Beresford communicated, and having completed his invest- 
 ment between the 4th and the 8th of May, he began to arm 
 his batteries. They were indifferently supplied, aud worse 
 served, for the guns were few in number, and recruits, chiefly 
 Portuguese, worked them. The siege made, therefore, but 
 little progress, and by aud by the advance of Soult at the
 
 136 SIEGE OF BADAJOZ RAISED. [ISll. 
 
 head of 20,000 men caused it to be suspended. The guns 
 were removed to a place of safety ; troops enough were left 
 in the trenches to maintain the blockade, and Beresford, with 
 the rest, marched out to meet the enemy. lie was joined 
 on the 15th at Albuera, by Blake and CastaHos, and early 
 next morning was attacked by Soult. Little generalship 
 was displayed on either side. The Spaniards soon aban- 
 doned the high ground on which they had been placed ; the 
 English and Portuguese were in the greatest jeopardy, when 
 the arrival of the Fusilier brigade, which came up at a 
 critical moment from Badajoz, saved the day. These brave 
 men, charging in an echelon of lines, overwhelmed the enemy 
 with their fire, who after repeatedly attempting, but in vain, 
 to deploy, abandoned the field. It was dark when the battle 
 ended, and French and English slept where they had fought, 
 but when morning dawned the French had disappeared. 
 Fifteen hundred English infantry, all that remained out of 
 7000, stood victorious on the heights which they had won. 
 
 Among all his campaigns there was not one about which 
 the Duke, when led on to discuss it, spoke with greater ani- 
 mation than this. Not that he ever said much about his 
 own difficulties, so far as these were occasioned by the neg- 
 lect of the Government which he served. To the last day 
 of his life, indeed, he seemed to treat matters of this soi't as 
 if they had been state secrets ; for whenever his friends 
 alluded by chance to the short-comings of ministers, he in- 
 variably turned the subject, and that with a degree of tact 
 as well as generosity which was very remarkable. For ex- 
 ample, it happened one day at Walmer Castle, that a gen- 
 tleman present referred indignantly to the Walcheren expe- 
 dition, regretting that the fine army wasted upon it had not 
 been sent to the North of Poi'tugal. " So you think," was 
 the Duke's answer, " but how should I have been able to 
 feed them ? I had difficulty enough in feeding the small 
 force already there, what should I have done if it had been 
 trebled ? " In the same spirit he would either set aside or 
 account for the perverse doings of the Portuguese Regency. 
 " Tliey could not see things in the same light that I did; 
 they were naturally looking to the salvation of their own
 
 1811.] THE DUKE'S GENEROSITY. 137 
 
 country ; I had to provide for the continuance of a great war ; 
 and the Portuguese are not constitutionally a very energetic 
 people. Yet their infantry became good, they were quite 
 equal to our sepoys, and, like the sepoys, fought best when 
 mixed with English troops, and commanded by English 
 officers." Even for the Spaniards he had always a kind 
 word to say. " What could you expect from men without 
 discipline, or what of a nation without a Government ? 
 Thoughts were at one time entertained of trying to do with 
 them what we had done with the Portuguese, but the plan 
 was impracticable from the first. Had the Regency listened 
 to the proposal, which they never did, the pride of a great 
 nation Avould have rebelled against it. I made the experi- 
 ment of enlisting some of them, and intermixing them in the 
 ranks with our men, but that failed too. They could not 
 endure the restraints of our discipline, and deserted on the 
 first oppoi'tunity. What the Spanish armies wanted was 
 officers. The men were active, sober, patient, and brave, 
 but they never became such soldiers as could be trusted by 
 themselves. ToAvards the end of the war they improved a 
 good deal, but in ISll they were quite worthless." 
 
 " Was not Eomana a good officer ? " 
 
 " Well, Eomana might have been a good officer if he had 
 had health, but he was in a rapid decline when he brought 
 tho wreck of his army into the lines, and died soon after- 
 wards." 
 
 " You had a high opinion of Massena, had you not ? " 
 
 " Certainly, he was by far the ablest of Buonaparte's 
 Marshals that I had anything to do with. He made mis- 
 takes, as all men are liable to do, particularly in his pursuit 
 of me from Guinaldo ; but his dispositions in front of the 
 lines were admirable, and his retreat was a masterpiece. His 
 great blunder was in facing me so long as he did. He 
 might have seen from the first that he could not touch me, 
 not even if he had got Soult and Joseph to co-operate with 
 him. 
 
 " The only real danger to me was from the sea ; and I have 
 often Avondered that Buonaparte did not make a desperate
 
 138 HIS TALK. [1811. 
 
 effort to gain the command of the estuary of the Tagus. 
 There were, to be sure, nine chances to one against his suc- 
 ceeding. But the game which he played was worth risking 
 even these odds to win. If by a sudden burst he coukl 
 have got possession of the Tagus, and kept it for a week, 
 we must have starved. However, I had pretty well provided 
 against that also. AVe had heavy batteries which com- 
 manded the roadstead ; and Belem and the other forts 
 were well armed." 
 
 " The French must have suffered fearfully at that time." 
 " I can't conceive how they existed at all. They never 
 carried supplies with them beyond the four or five days' 
 provisions with which each man was provided. And the 
 country for miles round was a desert. At least, so we thought. 
 But the Portuguese had not executed the work so effectually 
 as they ought to have done. They tried to hide cattle and 
 grain in the woods ; and these the Prench foragers found out. 
 I remember one day seeing rather an amusing affair. A French 
 foraging party had succeeded in finding some bullocks, and 
 one was sent to the front to be divided among a battalion, 
 which held the outposts opposite a hill on which I happened 
 to be standing. I don't know how it came about, but just 
 as the butcher was about to slaughter the animal, it broke 
 loose, and came tearing towards our pickets. Our men 
 turned out, cheering the beast, while the French shouted and 
 pursued. At last the animal got fairly within our line of 
 sentries, and then there rose a loud laugh on one side and 
 a bitter groan on the other. It seemed, however, as if our 
 men had greatly pitied the French ; for though they killed 
 the bullock and held up its quarters derisively for a while, 
 the matter ended by their handing over half the beast to 
 the French. It was a very amusing scene." 
 
 Speaking of the retreat itself, he gave great credit to 
 Colonel "Waters for the daring and skill with which he made 
 himself master of the enemy's designs. " He used to go 
 off and hide himself behind rocks, or wherever else he found 
 he could command a view, and count the numbers of their 
 columns on the march. He almost always succeeded, and
 
 1811.] COLONEL "WATERS. 139 
 
 the informatlou which he brought back to me, whether im- 
 portant or not, was always such as I knew could be depend- 
 ed upon. He got taken one day when so occupied, and 
 his friends begged me to send him clothes and money 
 under a flag of truce, for they were all very sorry for 
 him. But I would not do it. I was sure that we should 
 have him back again before long, and I told them so. And 
 sure enough so we did. As we were following Massena 
 after the affair at Sabugal, who should come galloping 
 up the road but Waters, ^yith his head bare, and his coat 
 covered with flour. His story was this. The French offered 
 him his parole, which he refused : they sent him into Ciudad- 
 Eodrigo, where he happened to have a good many acquaint- 
 ances, and where he spent a day or two not disagreeably. 
 By and by an order came to send him to France, and he 
 began liis journey escorted by some horsemen. As he had 
 made himself very agreeable to the French Generals, they 
 allowed him to retain his own horse ; which, however, he was 
 to deliver to the commandant when he got to Bayonne. Waters 
 seemed quite reconciled to his fate, but watched his oppor- 
 tunity, and on the second day, when the escort had begun to 
 grow careless, he suddenly wheeled round, struck spurs into 
 his horse, and shot off. They galloped after him, but he soon 
 distanced them, and was beginning to congratulate himself 
 on being safe, when the head of a French column marching 
 to the rear, showed itself. He struck off across the country 
 in the direction of a mill, which stood on the top of a hill. 
 A word to the miller was enough. Waters dismounted ; 
 the miller hid him under his sacks ; the horse was concealed 
 in a thicket hard by. The French troopers, who arrived 
 shortly after, were assured that the fugitive had taken a 
 road through the wood, and must by this time be miles away. 
 In that mill AYaters remained covered up by sacks till the 
 whole French army past ; and so he rejoined us." 
 
 It was thus that in the evening of his days the great 
 Duke used to converse about the wars which he had waged, 
 and the important events in which he had taken part. Tou 
 were never baulked if you sought for information on any
 
 140 THE DUKE'S ANECDOTES. [1811. 
 
 subject, so long as his keen sense of honour permitted him 
 to speak out. And plans of campaign and the tactics of 
 battle were often fully discussed. But he was always most 
 charming when he descended to little anecdotes such as 
 this, which no one ever told better, or seemed more highly to 
 relish, than liimself.
 
 141 
 
 CHAPTER XIY. 
 
 MAEMONT SUCCEEDS MASSENA LORD WELLINGTON FAILS TO 
 
 TAKE BADAJOZ HE TAKES CIUDAD-RODRIGO — INVESTS 
 
 BADAJOZ AGAIN. 
 
 The failure of his attempt to drive the English into the 
 sea proved fatal to Marshal Massena. He was recalled by 
 orders from Paris, and Marshal Marmont replaced hini. 
 But Marmont made no immediate movement to the front, 
 and Lord Wellington took advantage of the circumstance to 
 execute a purpose which for some time past he had medi- 
 tated. Leaving the rest of the army in Beira, under Sir Brent 
 Spencer, he set off with two divisions, the 3rd and the 7th, 
 to assume the direction of affairs in Spanish Estremadura. 
 On the l7th of May he was at Elvas, whence he directed 
 Marshal Beresford to follow cautiously in Soult's footsteps, 
 and to keep him at a distance while he himself pressed the 
 siege of Badajoz. 
 
 He had very little time at his disposal, and he knew it. 
 On the 16th of May Gleneral Drouet, with 19 battalions, was 
 reported to have begun his march from Castile, and Lord 
 "Wellington calculated that he would be able about the 8th 
 of June to come into communication with Soult. Soult 
 would then, without doubt, advance to relieve Badajoz, and 
 the army of Portugal might be expected to co-operate in the 
 movement. This left little margin for an enterprise so dar- 
 ing as the reduction of a strong place well garrisoned ; more 
 especially at a time when the resources at the disposal of the 
 besiegers were shamefullv deficient. It was of the greatest
 
 U2 BADAJOZ ATTACKED AGAIN. [1811. 
 
 consequence, liowever, that Badajoz should be recovered, and 
 on the 25th of May ground Avas broken before it. On 
 the 2nd of June the batteries opened, and on the 6th an 
 assault was hazarded. It failed ; was renewed on the 9th, 
 and failed again. Lord "Wellington felt that for a time at 
 least the game went against him. Already Marmont was in 
 the field. He had compelled Sir Brent Spencer to withdraw 
 beyond the Coa, and thrown supplies into Ciudad-Eodrigo, 
 after which he made a deflection to the left, and marched 
 through the pass of Banos towards Placentia. Soult, at the 
 same time, quitting his strong position at Llerena, inclined 
 towards Marmont, and pushed forward his advanced posts 
 as far as Los Santos. Not one of these movements escaped 
 Lord Wellington's notice : they brought the enemy too near 
 and in too great strength to permit a prolongation of the 
 siege ; so he converted it into a blockade, and set out with 
 every disposable man. to join Beresford. 
 
 Lord AVellington took post on the 15th of June at Al- 
 buera, Avith 35,268 men, of whom 8000 were Spaniards and 
 17,785 Portuguese. Marmont's head-quarters were then at 
 Merida ; those of Soult at Zafora. They communicated one 
 with another by patrols ; and had under their joint orders 
 not fewer than 67,000 excellent troops, of whom 7000 were 
 cavalry. "Why they should have lain apart throughout five 
 whole days, when a single concentric march might have 
 brought them together, has never been explained. Was it 
 that they already stood so much in awe of their indefatigable 
 adversary, that they feared to ofler him their flank, though 
 only for a single day ? Or did the old leaven of jealousy 
 work, impelling them to postpone, to considerations of per- 
 sonal vanity, the interests of the cause which they were 
 bound to uphold ? Be this as it may, they lost an opportunity 
 which never presented itself again. Loi'd Wellington put a 
 bold face on what was really a dangerous position, till Sir 
 Brent Spencer, who had moved along a line parallel v.ith 
 Marmont, began to arrive. His leading division came in on 
 the 20th, and on the 2ith the whole of the Anglo-Portu- 
 guese army was in force at Albuera. 
 
 Though still inferior to the enemy in numbers, and even
 
 1511.] TUEXS TOWARDS CIUDAD-RODPJGO. 143 
 
 more so in the composition of his army, for his English 
 infantry amounted to less than 25,000, and his cavalry to 
 little more than 3000, Lord "Wellington hesitated AThether 
 he should not take the initiative. A moment's reflection 
 showed him, however, that success in a great battle would 
 he too dearly purchased. The French could not at that 
 season of the year retain their hold for any length of time 
 on Estremadura, and their expulsion a few days earlier would 
 not be worth the loss of life which must result from it. 
 
 He continued therefore to retain his defensive attitude 
 till the 15th of July, when the French Marshals, no longer 
 able to find subsistence for their men, broke up. Soult re- 
 tired into Andalusia, Marmont recrossed the Tagus, placing 
 his army in cantonments between Talavera and Placentia. 
 And then rose the question, AVhat should Lord "Wellington 
 do ? If he resumed the attack upon Badajoz, he might 
 succeed in taking the place, though at the risk of having 
 Portugal invaded from the north. If he abandoned that 
 enterprise for the present, it was quite possible, so at least 
 he believed, that either by blockade or by siege operations 
 he might make himself master of Ciudad-Eodrigo. On the 
 whole he preferred taking the latter course, for reasons 
 which he has himself left on record. " From the inform- 
 ation I had received, I believed that the strength of the 
 northern army Avas less than that of the south, and that the 
 Armee de Portugal which was destined to oppose us, on 
 whatever point we should direct our operations, was not 
 likely to be so thoroughly supported in the north as in the 
 south. In this supposition I was mistaken. The army of 
 the north, even before the reinforcements arrived, was 
 stronger than in the south : but it must be observed that 
 there is nothing so difficult as to obtain information of the 
 enemy's numbers in Spain. There is but little communi- 
 cation between one town and another ; and although the 
 most accurate account of numbers which have passed through 
 one town can always be obtained, no information can be ob- 
 tained of what is passing in the next. To this add that the 
 disposition of the Spaniards natui-ally leads them to exagger- 
 ate the strength and success of themselves and their friends,
 
 144 LOED WELLIXGTOX'S DIFFICULTIES. [ISll. 
 
 and to despise that of the enemy ; and it will not be matter 
 of surprise that we should have been so often misinformed 
 regarding the enemy's numbers." 
 
 Lord Wellington refers in this memorandum to one point 
 on which he had been misinformed. He was not aware 
 when he broke up from Albuera, that Napoleon had begun 
 to pour strong reinforcements into Spain. It seemed indeed 
 as if Massena's failure had convinced him, in part, of the 
 danger of leaving the Spanish war behind, while he himself 
 entered upon hostilities with Russia ; and he made a great 
 effort to break the strength of the former before the latter 
 should fairly begin. Bat not in this respect alone had Lord 
 Wellington been misinformed. He was not aware that 
 Marmont on his march towards Estremadura had thrown 
 ample supplies into Ciudad-Rodrigo, and that the garrison 
 of that place, which was described as incapable of living be- 
 yond the 20th of August, was provided for a longer defence. 
 When therefore he arrived on his own ground beyond the 
 Coa, and re-established the blockade, he found that many diffi- 
 culties were to be encountered on which he had not reckoned. 
 Ciudad-Eodrigo, if reduced at all, must be reduced by pro- 
 cess of siege, and Marmont was at hand to interrupt the 
 operation with 60,000 men. Now all that Lord Wellington 
 could bring into the field, including a body of guerillas 
 under Don Julian de Sanchez, scarcely amounted to 40,000. 
 It was impossible under such circumstances to attempt any- 
 thing brilliant, and even the maintenance of the blockade 
 put too great a strain upon his energies. The English lay 
 spread over a vast extent of country, guarding the principal 
 approaches to the city. There were intervals in their line, 
 through one of which Marmont pressed a column, and 
 Ciudad-Eodrigo was re-victualled for eight months. Nor 
 Avas this all. Twice again before the campaign came to a 
 close his superiority in numbers enabled Marmont to take 
 Lord Wellington at a disadvantage. The latter had directed 
 his scattered divisions to concentrate if seriously threatened 
 by a march to the rear of Gruinaldo. But time was required 
 to effect this, and in order to gain time, he himself took 
 post with only two infantry brigades, and 800 horsemen on
 
 1811.] KEEPS MARMONT AT BAY. 145 
 
 the heights of Elbodon. Had Marmont attacked him there, 
 as he might have done, -with an entire infantry division and 
 80 squadrons, there is no knowing what the results miglit 
 have been. But Marmont contented himself with launching 
 his cavalry at the English, who received them in squares ; and 
 in squares, when the proper time came, they moved steadily 
 to the rear. Thus the position of Guinaldo was reached. 
 And here, again, fortune held out her hand to Marmont, 
 which he refused to grasp. Some of Lord Wellington's di- 
 visions had a wide space to traverse ; one, the light division, 
 lost its w'ay. There were but 14,000 men in position, of 
 whom 2500 were cavalry, when Marmont began to show 
 himself. In the course of the same afternoon, and during 
 the night, 50,000 French troops got together, and at day- 
 break on the 26th of Sept., Lord Wellington saw the full 
 extent of his danger. It was in such situations as this that 
 his great character came out. He could not quit the ground, 
 because it was the point of assembly for the whole army. 
 He never thought of quitting it, but chatted and laughed 
 with all who approached him, and kept everybody in the 
 best spirits, and on the alert. As hour after hour stole 
 away, however, his anxiety lost itself in astonishment that 
 Marmont should thus leave him unmolested. At last his 
 own people began to come in, and between the evening of 
 the 26th and the early part of the 27th the concentration 
 of his force was complete. He immediately shifted his 
 ground to a stronger position midway between the Aqueda 
 and the Coa, while Marmont, sensible that he had lost his 
 chance, and perceiving that his men were beginning to suffer 
 from scarcity, fell back by the road which he had so fruit- 
 lessly traversed, and returned to his old. cantonments. 
 
 Before this short and busy series of operations began, 
 while as yet, indeed, Lord Wellington lay at Albuera, intelli- 
 gence came in of the arrival in the Tagus of an effective 
 siege-train from England. It was an equipment of which he 
 had sorely felt the need in his recent attempt upon Badajoz ; 
 and being now bent upon the reduction of Ciudad-Eodrigo, 
 he directed the train to be sent round to Oporto. To hide 
 this purpose he desired that the store ships should sail in 
 
 10
 
 143 niS OPIXIOX OF XAVAL OFFICERS. [1811 
 
 the direction of Cadiz, and that smaller vessels, following 
 them out to sea, should take the guns on board, and steer 
 back to the mouth of the Douro. All this was accomplished 
 easily enough, and Ciudad-Eodrigo was placed in a state of 
 blockade, but then his difficulties began. As tar as Lamega 
 there was water carriage for the guns, but between Lamega 
 and Almeida the roads were mere mountain-paths, and the 
 only draught-animals available were oxen. A gun-brig had 
 accompanied the small craft to Oporto, and in the toilsome 
 operations which followed the officers and crew did excellent 
 service ; indeed, but for the assistance rendered by them, the 
 siege-train never could have reached Almeida. The Duke 
 often adverted in after-years to the obligations under which 
 they laid him. " But it was always so," he used to add, " I 
 never found naval men at a loss. Tell them to do anything 
 that is not impossible, and depend upon it they will do it." 
 " You thiuk them superior in these respects to the officers 
 of the army ? " "I did not say that." So he always guarded 
 himself against appearing to censure one class of persons 
 while praising another. " I did not say that, but their man- 
 ner of life creates in them a self-reliance, which you seldom 
 find in men of other professions. They are not to be taken 
 by surprise." 
 
 Sickness prevailed to a great extent at this time in the 
 English army. Heavy rains fall during the autumn in Por- 
 tugal, aud the dregs of the Walcheren fever hung about the 
 constitutions of many of the men. Forage likewise failed, and 
 the horses of the cavalry and artillery died by scores. A 
 general of ordinary capacity would have been content under 
 such circumstances to put his troops into quarters and nurse 
 them there ; but Lord Wellington had other objects in view. 
 He was anxious to attack in succession Ciudad-llodrigo and 
 Badajoz, and the intelligence which he received encouraged 
 him to strike the blow at once. And here I may observe, that 
 for his knowledge of the enemy's movements. Lord Wellington 
 was not dependent entirely upon the reports of the natives. 
 Among his own officers there Avere several who served him well, 
 especially two lieutenant-colonels bearing the same name — 
 Colquhoun Grant — yet noways related to each other. Both
 
 1811.] CIUD/vD-RODPJGO STORMED. 147 
 
 were ready linguists, and possessed a peculiar aptitude for in- 
 sinuating themselves into the confidence of others ; yet one 
 was simply a spy, the other a most enterprising chief of a 
 distinct intelligence department. Of the latter I shall have 
 occasion to speak by and by ; of the former it may sufiice 
 to observe, that when he put on a disguise, the closest scru- 
 tiny failed to detect the English gentleman. The story of 
 that officer's adventures, if detailed at length, would read 
 like a romance. He went about from place to place, round 
 the flanks, into the rear, and through the cantonments of the 
 French army, making himself master of many of their secrets, 
 and rarely failing to transmit the results of his inquiries to 
 Lord Wellington. It was through him that at this time 
 Lord "Wellington heard of the departure of 60,000 French 
 troops from Spain, into Grermany, among whom were 15,000 
 of the elite of Marmont's corps, with 10,000 from the corps 
 of Dorsenne, which kept the province of Grallicia in order, 
 and had its head-quarters in Eargos. 
 
 The knowledge of this fact, followed as it was by informa- 
 tion that Marmont had been instructed to establish himself 
 at Valladolid, determined Lord Wellington not to defer his 
 daring enterprise. He had already prepared in Almeida 
 materials for one siege ; he now gave orders that materials 
 for another should be quietly got ready at Elvas. Mean- 
 while G-eneral Hill, who kept post with 1-5,000 men at 
 Pontalegre, was instructed to create alarm in Andalusia, 
 by making a demonstration in the direction of Seville, and 
 then he himself took the field. It was in the depth of a 
 winter unusually severe, on the 7th of January, 1812, that, 
 amid frost and snow, he crossed the Aqeuda, and closely in- 
 vested Ciudad-Eodrigo. The ground was rocky, and the cold 
 intense, but the men worked well, and one after another 
 two important outposts, a lunette and a fortified convent, 
 were carried by assault. The breaching batteries then opened 
 upon the body of the place, and on the 16th the garrison 
 was simimoned. On the 19th, a refusal to surrender having 
 been returned, two breaches were stormed. The assault 
 took place at night, and the resistance was stern, but it was 
 sternly overcome. Two Grenerals, Craufui'd and Mackinnon,
 
 148 EADAJOZ ATTACKED. [1812. 
 
 fell at the head of their divisions, and in the course of the 
 siege 178 regimental officers, with 818 men, were killed and 
 Avounded. The town likewise caught fire in many places, 
 and suffered the horrors of a sack ; but when morning 
 dawned, it was everywhere in possession of the English, and 
 1500 French troops, all that remained of the garrison, laid 
 down their arms. 
 
 So sudden and unlooked-for a conclusion to this siege 
 took the French a little by surprise. Marmont, indeed, 
 never heard till the 15th that Ciudad-Eodrigo was in danger, 
 and on the 21st, while as yet the concentration of his divi- 
 sions was incomplete, he leai-ned at a place called Fuente de 
 Sancho, that the town had fallen. He refused at first to 
 credit the tidings, and then, furious with himself and with 
 everybody else, more especially with Napoleon, whom he 
 blamed for the catastrophe, he marched oft' to Salamanca, 
 which he began immediately to fortify. Salamanca was, and 
 still is, a city of colleges and convents, of which three in 
 particular stood then at the angles, so to speak, of a triangle. 
 These he strengthened, and connecting them Avith a curtain, 
 and covering the whole with outworks and a ditch, he made 
 Salamanca, what Kodrigo had ceased to be, his place cVarmes 
 on that frontier of Portugal. 
 
 Success in the first of his great undertakings only stimu- 
 lated Lord Wellington to enter upon the second. As soon as 
 he had ascertained that the valley of the Tagus was clear, 
 he put his columns in motion, and passed without a halt 
 from the Aqueda to the Gruadiana. It was one of the most 
 daring and arduous marches upon record. His flank was 
 presented to the enemy throughout, and a succession of 
 furious winds and heavy rains rendered difficult at times 
 the act of locomotion, both to man and horse. The troops 
 held their way, however, and reached the Guadiana time 
 enough to throw a bridge across the river on the 16th of 
 March. On the l7th, Badajoz was invested; that very night 
 ground was broken, and one after another the outworks 
 were breached and taken. For there was no time to con- 
 duct this siege, any more than that of liodrigo, by regular 
 approaches. Two armies, each as numerous as his own,
 
 1812.] BADAJOZ BESIEGED. 149 
 
 looked on, so to speak, at what he was about. If he failed 
 to master the place before either of them came to its relief, 
 he could not hope to master it at all, and time seemed to 
 him under the circumstances more important than any other 
 consideration. 
 
 Nobody who understands what he is speaking or writing 
 about, will ever uphold the Duke's sieges in the Peninsula 
 as models of the application of science to the art of war. 
 They were undertaken with means which any General ex- 
 cept himself would have pronounced inadequate, and they 
 succeeded under circumstances which ought to have ren- 
 dered success impossible. Ciudad-Rodrigo, with 40,000 of 
 the best troops in the world within four marches of it, fell 
 after only twelve days' open trenches. Nineteen days were 
 required to breach Badajoz in two places. Yet neither 
 Soult nor Marmont interfered to prevent the catastrophe. 
 Soult, indeed, was busy with his own siege of Cadiz. Making 
 no progress, he still professed to regard conquest there as 
 far more important than conquest anywhere else ; and he 
 suspended his operations only on the 8th, when a hurried 
 message announced to him that the defence of Badajoz 
 could not be much longer maintained. He marched upon 
 Llereua, with 24s000 men, expecting to find Marmont there 
 with 30,000 ready to co-operate wiili him. But Marmont 
 had not arrived, and, worse still, Badajoz was taken.
 
 160 
 
 CHAPTEE XY. 
 
 SIEGE AND ASSAULT OF BADAJOZ LORD 'WELLINGTON DURING 
 
 THE ASSAULT. 
 
 Before I describe how tlie capture of Badajoz came to 
 pass, it may be well to state briefly what Marmont was 
 doing, and why he took that particular line of action on 
 which my reader and I are going to follow him. 
 
 It was !N"apoleon's custom to conduct the greater oper- 
 ations of all his wars from his own head-quarters, wherever 
 these might be. The mind of a giant alone could entertain 
 such an idea ; yet the giant in this instance, though usually 
 correct in principle, often blundered, because it was impos- 
 sible for him to provide against change of circumstances. 
 His explicit order it was which compelled Marmont, against 
 his will, to fall back upon A^alladolid, and thus open the 
 way for Lord "Wellington's reduction of Ciudad-Eodrigo. 
 In the end of February, 1812, fresh instructions reached 
 Marmont, which Napoleon drew up subseqiiently to the fall 
 of Ciudad-Eodrigo. These contemplated the step which 
 Lord AVellington had actually taken, and ran thus ; " Place 
 your troops so that in four marches they may concentrate 
 at Salamanca. If "Wellington move towards Badajoz, do not 
 interfere with him, but march straight upon Almeida, push 
 your parties as far as Coimbra, and you will soon bring him 
 back again. "Write at the same time to the Duke of Dal- 
 matia, and request him to carry into effect the orders which 
 I have given him, to advance with 20,000 men on the Gua- 
 diana, and thus compel Hill, who has only 15,000, to remain
 
 1812.] PREPARATIONS FOR THE ASSAULT. 151 
 
 on the Tagus. Do not think, M. le Marechal, of going to- 
 wards the south, but penetrate at once into Portugal, if 
 "Wellington has committed the mistake of crossing to the 
 right bank of the Tagus." 
 
 Nothing could be more judicious than the plan thus pro- 
 posed ; the difficulty was to get it promptly and judiciously 
 executed. Disgusted with what he considered to be the 
 mischievous consequences of the Emperor's interference on a 
 previous occasion, Marmont wasted time in criticising which 
 he ought to have sj^ent in action. He might have been 
 at Ciudad-Rodrigo on the 15th, while the breaches were still 
 open ; he did not reach it till the 30th, after they had been 
 closed. Not having a battering-train at his disposal, he 
 could only mask both that place and Almeida, and pass on. 
 As to Soult, he paid, as we have just seen, no regard at first 
 to the Emperor's orders ; and when he did move, he moved 
 in the expectation that Marmont would join him at Llerena. 
 Meanwhile Lord "Wellington had pushed his operations so 
 vigorously against Badajoz, that on the oth of April two 
 breaches were pronounced practicable, and on the Oth ar- 
 rangements were made for delivering the assault. 
 
 On the evening of that day, when darkness set in, 18,000 
 English and Portuguese troops filed into the trenches. 
 They were divided into three main columns of attack with 
 a reserve. One column in two divisions was to threaten 
 an outwork and a bastion ; another was to escalade the cas- 
 tle, of which the walls were lofty and untouched ; the 
 third was to throw itself simultaneously upon the two 
 breaches. Meanwhile the guards of the trenches were to 
 force their way into a commanding ravelin, while a Portu- 
 guese brigade, which kept up the investment on the right of 
 the Guadiana, was to alarm, or it might be to attack, certain 
 works, which covered the town on that side of the river. 
 Finally the crest of the glacis was lined with skirmishers, 
 whose duty it was, when the proper time came, to keep down 
 the fire of the defenders ; and the cavalry stood by their 
 horses in rear of the camp ready to mount and act, as cir- 
 cumstances might require. 
 
 It will be seen by this hurried description that no pre-
 
 lo2 LORD WELLIXGTOX AXD THE ASSAULT. [1812. 
 
 caution was omitted to eusure success in an enterprise, 
 which, by all engaged in it, was felt to be desperate. 
 Through the breaches the assailants hoped to make good 
 their entrance into the town. Tet there was not one 
 of the many false attacks which might not be converted 
 into a real one, and several in the course of the night be- 
 came real. Lord Wellington took up his own station 
 on an eminence facing the main breach, whence his eye 
 could embrace the whole circle of fire, and from which 
 orders could be sent to any point where they might appear 
 to be needed. There was perfect silence everywhere ; in 
 the trenches, along the crest of the glacis, in the devoted 
 town, throughout the besiegers' camp. At last the clocks 
 in the city were heard to strike ten, and then three pieces 
 of cannon spoke out. They gave the signal which for more 
 than an hour had been anxiously expected, and the struggle 
 began. 
 
 I am not going to tell how the various attacks were con- 
 ducted, how led, how met, and with what results termin- 
 ating. My business is with Lord TVellington, beside whom, 
 as he stood, surrounded by his staff, the reader and I will 
 place ourselves. He gazed first upon a sharp skirmish- 
 ing fire, which opened near him, and then, being directed from 
 the glacis towards the breaches, widened till it seemed to en- 
 velope the Avhole place. Immediately afterwards could be 
 beard the hum of columns in motion, followed by the sound 
 of men leaping by sections down into the ditch ; and then a 
 sudden tumult in the town itself, while voices, which rose 
 over the noise of the musketry, exclaimed in clear and articu- 
 late tones — •" They come, they come." A moment's pause, 
 and suddenly before the breaches broke out a perfect illu- 
 mination — blue lights, rockets, combustibles of every kind, 
 being hurled over the parapets and down the slopes into the 
 ditch ; the blaze from which made manifest two long narrow 
 scarlet threads, the heads of which were already well up 
 into the breaches, while the rear still crowded forward 
 from the mouth of the trenches. And now came the wild- 
 est tumult of war ; guns from either flank vomited forth 
 grape and canister upon the assailants ; shells gleamed like
 
 1812.] THE ASSAULT. 153 
 
 fire-flies for an instant, then flashed out and exploded, while 
 a roll of musketry, which seemed never to grow slack, kept 
 all the summits of the breaches in a blaze. Moments such 
 as these prolong themselves into hours, and hours into ages. 
 The storming parties made no way ; they were in the 
 breaches, they touched the very summits, but there they 
 stopped. JVIultitudes came rolling down dead or wounded, 
 only that their places might be taken by others ; but not a 
 man either turned to flee, or forced himself over the obsta- 
 cles, be they what they might, which barred his progress. 
 
 All this Lord Wellington beheld, standing, as I have just 
 stated, upon an eminence close to the main breach. At first 
 a numerous staft' surrounded him, but one by one these were 
 sent away, till only the Prince of Orange and Lord March 
 remained beside their chief. Both were very young men, 
 and one, Lord March, held a torch, the light from which 
 fell strong on Lord "Wellington's countenance. At this 
 moment Dr, afterwards Sir James, McG-regor and Dr Forbes 
 approached. "His Lordship," says Sir James, "was so in- 
 tent on what was going on, that I believe he did not ob- 
 serve us. Soon after our arrival, an officer came up with 
 an imfavourable t-eport of the assault, announcing that 
 Colonel McLeod and several officers were killed, with heaps 
 of men who choked the approach to the breach. At the 
 place where we stood we were within hearing of the voices 
 of the assailants and the assailed, and it was now painful 
 to notice that the voices of our countrymen had grown 
 fainter, while the French cry of ' Avancez, etrillons ces 
 Anglais,'' became stronger. Another officer came up with 
 still more unfavourable reports, that no progress was being 
 made, for almost all the officers were killed, and none left 
 to lead on the men, of whom a great many had fallen. 
 
 " At this moment I cast my eyes on the countenance of 
 Lord "Wellington, lit up by the glare of the torch held by 
 Lord March, I never shall forget it to the last moment 
 of my existence, and I could even now sketch it. The jaw 
 had fallen, the face was of unusual length, while the torch- 
 light gave his countenance a lurid aspect ; but still the ex- 
 pression of the face was firm. Suddenly turning to me and
 
 154 BADAJOZ TAKEX. [1812. 
 
 putting his hand on my arm, he said, ' Go over immediately 
 to Picton, and tell him he must try if he cannot succeed 
 on the castle.' I replied, ' My Lord, I have not my horse 
 ■with me, but I will walk as fast as I can, and I think I can 
 find the way ; I know part of the road is swampy.' ' No, 
 no,' he replied, ' I beg your pardon, I thought it was De 
 Lancey.' I repeated my oifer, saying I was sure I could 
 find the way, but he said, ' No.' 
 
 " Another officer arrived, asking loudly, ' Where is Lord 
 "Wellington ? ' He came to announce that Picton was in 
 the castle. He was desired instantly to go to the breach, 
 and to request the stormers to renew their efforts, an- 
 nouncing what had befallen ; and immediately Lord Welling- 
 ton called for his own horse, and followed by the Prince 
 and Lord March, rode to the breach." 
 
 I can add nothing to the graphic power of this descrip- 
 tion, and therefore content myself with saying that the fall 
 of the castle led to the captm'e of the town, and that the 
 Governor, after keeping his hold of a detached work through- 
 out the night, surrendered at discretion on the dawn of the 
 following morning. Neither need I repeat in detail the well- 
 known story of the outrages that followed. No place was 
 ever taken by assault, or probably ever Avill be so taken, 
 without these horrors attending. Let us draw a veil over 
 them, therefore, and be relieved by stating that a stern but 
 necessary discipline at last prevailed, and that before the close 
 of the second day order was restored. 
 
 When all was over, Dr McGrregor went as usual to make 
 his report of the sick and wounded. He found Lord Wel- 
 lington in the act of concluding his despatch, and ended his 
 own statement with the expression of a hope that his 
 Lordship was satisfied with the conduct of the medical 
 ofiicers. " Perfectly," was the answer, " I saw with my own 
 eyes that their exertions were superhuman." " My Lord, 
 nothing will do more good, or more encourage them, than if 
 you say 'so in your despatches." Lord AVellington looked 
 up, and said abruptly, " Is that usual ? I have finished my 
 despatch; but," after a moment's pause," I will add something 
 about the doctors." Something was added, and " the doc-
 
 1812.] AFTER THE SIEGE. Uo 
 
 tors," for tlie first time in English military history, found 
 themselves, after the capture of Badajoz, honourably men- 
 tioned in public despatches. It was a just tribute to their 
 valuable services, often rendered under fire, and the good 
 custom then established has never since fallen into abey- 
 ance. 
 
 A more desperate service was never performed in war than 
 this capture of Badajoz by assault. The garrison, strong 
 in numbers, and still more formidable on account of its com- 
 position, was admirably handled throughout the siege ; and 
 everything which skill and resolution could devise was ap- 
 plied to avert the catastrophe. The breaches were not only 
 retrenched, but across them at the summit were drawn 
 strong iron chains, bristling with bayonets and naked sword- 
 blades. No man succeeded in forcing his way through that 
 barrier ; for behind it stood men who knocked on the head 
 all who endeavoured to grasp the chain ; and the attempt to 
 bear it back by sheer strength only caused the cruel deaths 
 of such as took part in it. But if the defence was skilful 
 and brave, not less brave and skilful were the measures 
 adopted to subdue it. Danger threatened the defenders 
 from so many points at once, that those accounted the least 
 assailable were partially neglected, and through them the 
 besiegers made their way. When morning dawned, therefore, 
 the breaches had become empty, and over them, mad with 
 excitement, rushed the survivors from the late contest. 
 
 The loss to Lord Wellington in this siege was very great. 
 It amounted to 72 ofiicers, 51 sergeants, and 912 rank and 
 file killed ; 306 ofiicers, 216 sergeants, and 3787 rank and file 
 wounded. One sergeant and 68 rank and file were missing, 
 of whom several were known to have deserted, though only 
 one of them fell into the hands of the victors. In spite of 
 these casualties, however, and notwithstanding the shake 
 which such enterprises, terminate as they may, always give 
 to discipline. Lord Wellington thought seriously of follow- 
 ing up his success by marching direct against Soult. In- 
 deed, nothing but the misconduct of the Spaniards, who 
 neglected the work which he had assigned them, and left 
 Ciudad-Rodrigo unvictualled, with its breaches partially open.
 
 1.56 THE CAMPAIGN EXDS. [1S12. 
 
 prevented his carrying that purpose into effect. " It would 
 have been very desirable," he wrote to Lord Liverpool, " if 
 I could have struck a severe blow at Marshal Soult before 
 he could receive reinforcements ; but, on the other hand, as 
 the Spaniards have neglected to provision Ciudad-Eodrigo 
 (menaced by the Duke of Eagusa) it is absolutely necessary 
 that I should return to the frontier of Castile." In terms 
 even more forcible he expresses himself, when writing from 
 Badajoz to Lord Wellesley : " If Ciudad-Eodrigo had been 
 provisioned, as I had a right to expect, there was nothing to 
 prevent me from marching to Seville, at the head of 40,000 
 men, the moment the siege of Badajoz was concluded." 
 
 The force of circumstances being thus too strong, like a 
 prudent man he yielded to them. Leaving a sufficient body of 
 troops to cover the parties whom he employed in repairing 
 Badajoz, and a Portuguese brigade to hold the place, till re- 
 lieved by a Spanish garrison, he marched back with the rest 
 of the army to Beira. The rumour of that movement sufficed 
 to divert Marshal Marmont from thoughts of conquest, 
 which, indeed, seem never to have been very decided with 
 him. He drew back out of Portugal to his old quarters in 
 and about Salamanca ; and the British army re-establishing 
 itself where it had rested ere the sieges began, this brilliant 
 winter campaign came on the 25th of April to an end.
 
 167 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 PREPARATIONS FOR THE CAMPAIGN OF 1S12. 
 
 Between the 25tli of April and the 13tli of June no 
 important operations were entered upon by the Trench and 
 English armies. Both required rest ; and both were glad, 
 during the continuance of the heavy rains which fall at that 
 season and flood the rivers, to remain quietly in their can- 
 tonments. The English lay partly in Beira and along the 
 frontiers of Castile, partly to the left of the Tagus, between 
 that river and the Guadiana. It was there that Sir How- 
 land Hill, Avith his head-quarters at Merida, kept watch ; at 
 once protecting the Spaniards while they restored the forti- 
 fication of Badajoz, and alarming Soult for the safety of 
 Andalusia. Lord AVellington, on the other side of the 
 Tagus, busied himself in providing against the wants of the 
 hour, and making complete his preparations against the 
 future. " That future," G-eneral Jomini says, " oifered him 
 a free choice of three courses. He might advance against 
 Soult on his right, or debouch by the centre on Madrid, or 
 operate on his left against Marmont." Lord Wellington 
 himself appears never to have contemplated a march upon 
 Madrid as a primary movement. And his correspondence 
 shows that after well weighing the subject he came to the 
 conclusion that Marmont ought in the first instance to com- 
 mand his attention. 
 
 It was while thus taking breath, so to speak, after exhaust- 
 ing labour, that Lord AVellington, on the 26th of May, wrote 
 to Lord Liverpool, now First Lord of the Treasury, one of the
 
 1-58 LETTEE TO LORD LIVERPOOL. [1812. 
 
 most remarkable letters Avticli is to be found iu bis published 
 correspondence. It explains not only all that had been 
 done in tbe previous campaign, but all -wliicb the writer pro- 
 posed to do in the next ; and without seeking to disguise his 
 own inferiority in many respects to the enemy, breathes a con- 
 fident spirit as to the issues of the coming struggle. " I pur- 
 pose," he says, " as soon as ever the magazines of the army 
 are brought forward, which work is now in progress (the 
 troops continuing in dispersed cantonments for that purpose), 
 to move forward into Castile, and to endeavour, if possible, 
 to bring Marmout to a general action. I think I can make 
 these movements with safety, excepting always the risk of a 
 general action. I am of opinion, also, that I shall have the 
 advantage in this action, and this is the period of all others 
 when such a movement should be tried. Tour Lordship 
 will have observed that General Hill's recent operations 
 give great security to our right. The enemy have, in truth, 
 now no good communication across the Tagus, excepting the 
 bridge of Toledo.* * * It is not very probable, therefore, that 
 we should be turned by our right ; and if reinforcements 
 should be drawn from the north to press upon our left, we 
 shall always have our retreat open, either by Ciudad-Eodrigo 
 or by the valley of the Tagus." 
 
 Two points touched upon in this extract require to be ex- 
 plained. With a view to shorten the distance from his own 
 base, Lord AVellingtou caused the channels both of the Tagus 
 and of the Douro to be deepened, so that the one became 
 navigable as high as Melpica, near Alcantara, the other to 
 Bacca de Alba. He repaired the bridge likewise at Alcan- 
 tara, rendering thereby easy and direct his communications 
 with Hill ; and he established at Ca9eres a large depot of 
 provisions. These were the works in which his scattered 
 divisions employed themselves ; but Hill had a more dashing 
 enterprise entrusted to him, and it was the only one which for 
 50 days broke what may be called the uncovenanted truce 
 between the belligerents. The enemy had placed a bridge 
 of boats upon the Tagus at Almaraz, of which they were 
 extremely jealous. It afforded tlie only means of direct com- 
 munication between Soult and Marmont, and was on that
 
 1812.] HILL'S EXPLOIT. 159 
 
 account a special eye-sore to Lord "Wellington. He deter- 
 mined to destroy it, and directed Sir Eo\sland Hill to eflect 
 that object. A rapid night-march brought Hill with 6000 
 men in front of the French tete de pont, at a moment when 
 no danger was apprehended. He carried the work by esca- 
 lade, turned next upon the forts which commanded the 
 bridge, and took them all. The bridge, with an immense 
 accumulation of stores lying near it, was immediately burnt, 
 and Hill was in full swing towards his cantonments in Me- 
 rida, before Foy, D'Armagnac, and Drouet, all of whom clus- 
 tered, so to speak, round the scene of action, became aware 
 of what was going on. 
 
 It may well read like a tale twice told, when I say that 
 all this while Lord Wellington was engaged in a voluminous, 
 and for the most part unsatisfactory, correspondence with 
 the Spanish and Portuguese authorities, and with the Eng- 
 lish Government. The latter continued to starve him in 
 men and stores, and above all in money, though he warned 
 them that the paper currency which had heretofore kept him 
 afloat, would cease to be of value as soon as he passed the 
 Portuguese frontier. The two former either evaded his re- 
 quisitions or acted in opposition to them. The Spanish 
 Cortes indeed evinced manifest tokens that the burden of 
 the war was becoming intolerable, for while they despatch- 
 ed every eftective battalion and batterj^ to South America, 
 they opened a correspondence with King Joseph. As to 
 the Portuguese Eegency, its members no longer took the 
 trouble to disguise the personal antipathy which they en- 
 tertained towards Lord Wellington. It seemed as if, in 
 their eagerness to thwart and annoy him, they were prepared 
 to sacrifice the country itself. They neither filled up the 
 vacancies which war had occasioned in the ranks, nor kept 
 their skeleton regiments fed or clothed, or even sufficiently 
 armed. As usual, Lord Wellington reasoned with them, 
 expostulated, and threatened. As usual, too, he prevailed, 
 and then he took a survey of the entire theatre of the Avar, 
 which presented to his gaze the following features. 
 
 He found, when all was reckoned up, that in April, 1812, 
 he had under his orders a force of 56,000 British and Portu-
 
 160 RELATIVE STRENGTH OF TUE ARMIES. [1812. 
 
 guese troops. Of these, 15,000 were with Hill in Estrema- 
 dura, 5000 detached at Cadiz and elsewhere, and 36,000, of 
 Avhom 3500 were good cavalry, so placed that in two marches 
 they could all be assembled in and about Fuente Guinaldo. A 
 small Spanish corps, numbering about 3500 men, having Don 
 Julien de Sanches and the Conde d'Espani at its head, was 
 likewise at his disposal : the whole constituting the largest 
 and most effective army which he had yet commanded. He 
 urged tlie English Government to help him, by throwing 
 10,000 of the troops which they kept shut up in Sicily upon 
 the coast of Calabria, and a promise was given that by the 
 first week in June this should be done. That promise, only 
 partially fulfilled so far as the numbers of English troops 
 were concerned, was not kept at all in the matter of time. The 
 Sicilian expedition never reached Spain till the evil had be- 
 fallen which its presence was intended to avert ; and the 
 consequence was that a campaign, brilliantly begun, ended, 
 as I shall have occasion presently to show, in something like 
 failure. 
 
 So matters stood on Lord "\t\^ellington's side. His strength 
 for active operations was all told, for the Spanish armies 
 were quite broken up, and the Portuguese militia, however 
 capable of annoying the enemy's convoys, could not be em- 
 ployed in the business of a campaign. Looking at the other 
 side we find, that though the Eussian war was begun, an 
 enormous superiority of force still rested with the enemy. 
 Marmont lay in and about Salamanca with 52,000 men ; 
 Cafferelli kept open the communication between France and 
 Burgos with 32,000; Joseph was in Madrid with 22,000; Soult 
 in Andalusia with 56,000; and Suchet, for whom Lord AVel- 
 lington was anxious to find employment in his own province, 
 held Calabria with 60,000. Over the whole of this large 
 force, Napoleon had at length conferred upon Joseph abso- 
 lute authority. But Joseph's military abilities Avere held in 
 small repute by his marshals, and one and all they exhibited 
 a settled determination to bring themselves as little as possi- 
 ble within the reach of his influence. Lord Wellington 
 therefore calculated that by cutting in between Marmont 
 and Joseph, he might be able to dispose of both separately ;
 
 1812.] HIS DISPOSAL OF THE DAY. 161 
 
 wliile Suclaet, having his hands full with the Anglo-Sicilian 
 expedition, would hardly care to abandon his own province 
 in order to bring succour to the King. As to Soult, Lord 
 Wellington knew his man. With Hill in his rear and Cadiz 
 before him, the Duke of Dalmatia was little likely to relin- 
 quish his own purposes. And so the way seemed open 
 for that course of action on which, when the proper time 
 came, the English General entered. Thus much for his plans 
 in the mass : now a word or two illustrative of his manner 
 of doing business. 
 
 There never lived a more rigid economist of time than 
 Arthur Duke of Wellington. While commanding armies in 
 the field, he rose seldom later, often earlier, than six in the 
 morning. If nothing called for special attention abroad, he 
 then sat down to his desk, and continued to read and answer 
 letters and despatches till nine or ten. Immediately after 
 breakfast he received the Heads of Departments, one by 
 one, the Adjutant- General, the Quarter-Master- General, the 
 Chief of the Medical Stafi", the Commissary- General, and the 
 Head of the Intelligence Department. If they had papers 
 for him to read or to sign, it was expected that, besides 
 being written in legible hands, these should all be very 
 clearly expressed. If they bad suggestions to make or 
 points to argue, all must be done di viva voce. He never 
 made notes himself of subjects requiring discussion ; he was 
 intolerant of notes if others produced them. After dismiss- 
 ing these gentlemen, he usually mounted his horse and rode 
 sometimes to the outposts, sometimes to one or other of the 
 more distant divisions, as circumstances seemed to require. 
 If he got home in time to devote an hour or two to writing, 
 he resumed his place at his desk. For all his more import- 
 ant epistolary communications were written in his own hand. 
 Matters of mere detail, such as orders and replies to of&cial 
 notes, his secretaries or their clerks drew up from memoranda 
 with which he supplied them. But his corx'espondence with 
 Ministers of State and with the Governments of Spain and 
 Portugal was entirely autograph. 
 
 At six he dined, never alone, nor with the members of his 
 personal staff exclusively about him. Everybody in the 
 
 11
 
 162 HIS DIXXEE PAETIES. [1812. 
 
 most remote degree recommended to his notice, every oiEcer 
 of rank, passing througli and leaving bis name at head-quar- 
 ters, was sure to receive an invitation ; and making fair 
 allowance for the measure of restraint wluch seems to be 
 unavoidable at the tables of royalty and commanders-in- 
 chief, the conversation was, for the most part, both interest- 
 ing and lively. The Duke himself spoke out upon all sub- 
 jects with an absence of reserve which sometimes surprised 
 his guests. Whether the matters under discussion were 
 foreign or domestic politics, he took his own view of each 
 particular case, and stated it broadly. He was rich in anec- 
 dotes, most of them taking a ludicrous turn, and without 
 any apparent effort put the company very much at their 
 ease. About nine o'clock he would order coffee, which was 
 accepted as a signal for breaking up, and then he withdrew 
 again to his own room, where he resumed his correspond- 
 ence and carried it far into the night. 
 
 I have specified the Head of the Intelligence Department 
 as one of those who used to attend at Lord Wellington's 
 daily levees. The Duke had taken infinite pains to organ- 
 ize and arrange that department, and placed at the head of 
 it one of the most remarkable men in the army. Colonel 
 Colquhoun Grrant, a relative of the late Sir James McGrre- 
 gor, possessed the talent of acquiring languages to a marvel- 
 lous degree. He spoke Spanish, Portuguese, and French 
 with a facility and correctness to which Englishmen rarely 
 attain, and with the use of the language he put on the 
 manner and well-nigh the appearance of Spaniard, Portu- 
 guese, or Frenchman, as the case might be. Observant, 
 pliable, apparently frank, yet withal close and circumspect, 
 he won. the confidence of all whom he was desirous of search- 
 ing out, and being true to his word, he never threw away a 
 useful confidence which he had once acquired. He had 
 emissaries everywhere ; in all the towns and villages in or 
 about which French troops were quartered, and if common 
 rumour might be trusted, some even at the head-quarters of 
 the French armies themselves. With not a few of these he 
 used to hold personal communication, passing round for that 
 purpose, and sometimes even through the French camps. How
 
 1812.] COLOXEL COLQUHOU:\' GRAXT. 163 
 
 he contrived so long to escape detection it is hard to sav, for 
 he never in these excursions hiid aside his English uniform, 
 though he managed to conceal it from the vulgar gaze by a 
 cloak or a blue pellisse thrown over it. In this respect he 
 differed from another Colquhoun G-rant, also a Colonel, 
 and also a collector of intelligence, to v^hom I have else- 
 where alluded, and who coming nearer to the character of 
 a mere spy, was at once less trusted and less esteemed than 
 his namesake, by Lord AYellington. 
 
 The adventures of the head of the Intelligence Depart- 
 ment, if related at length, would read like a romance. I 
 shall content myself with briefly alluding to them. Ventur- 
 ing rather too far in front of the advanced sentries, one day, 
 he was taken by the enemy, and carried before Marmont, 
 then on the frontiers of Portugal. There was great rejoic- 
 ing in the French army when he confessed himself to be 
 Colquhoun Grant. The name was .well known at head- 
 quarters, and Marmont, mistaking him for the other Col- 
 quiioun Grant, exclaimed, when he made his appearance, " It 
 is well for you, sir, that you wear that bit of red rag ; but for 
 that, I should have hanged you on the spot." The treatment 
 he received was at first harsh, and being hopeless of making 
 his escape, he agreed to give his parole. He was then sent, 
 still under charge of a guard, to Salamanca, where Dr 
 Curtis, late B. C. Archbishop of Tuam, and at that time 
 head of one of the colleges in the city, found him out. Dr 
 Curtis's visits to a prisoner so much dreaded gave great of- 
 fence to Marmont, who met the worthy Canon's excuses by 
 reminding him that Grant was neither an Irishman nor a 
 Eoman Catholic. But Dr Curtis was not to be deterred, 
 either by threats or blandishments, from doing his duty, and 
 stoutly denied that Grant had any secrets to be betrayed. 
 
 Lord Wellington was much grieved at the loss of Col- 
 quhoun Grant, and the more so, that day by day the prisoner 
 contrived to send him scraps of important information. 
 These, written upon small rolls of paper, were carried in the 
 ears of priests and peasants to the English head-quarters. 
 " What an extraordinaiy fellow that cousin of yours is," said 
 Lord Wellington one day to Sir James McGregor; "I wish
 
 164 A PRISOXER. [1812. 
 
 he had not given his parole, for I had promised large rewards 
 to the Guerilla chiefs if they could bring him back, and we 
 should have had him before now." 
 
 " But I thought, sir, that you had ai*rauged for his ex- 
 change ? " 
 
 " So I had, and here is Marmont's answer." The answer was 
 as compliant and civil as could be. It promised all that 
 Lord Wellington required, and expressed the gratification 
 which the writer experienced in being able to oblige so 
 illustrious a Greneral. " I suppose you believe all that ? " 
 said Lord Wellington ; " now look at this." Thereupon he 
 handed Sir James a copy of the Moniteur, containing a de- 
 spatch from Marshal Marmont to the War Minister, which 
 was entirely occupied with an account of Grrant's capture, 
 and of the extreme delight of the writer at the circumstance. 
 " He is a most dangerous fellow," the despatch went on to 
 say, " of whom I shall ;aot lose sight till he is safe in France, 
 and there you must be equally vigilant in watching him." 
 The despatch bore exactly the same date as the letter«'to 
 Lord Wellington. 
 
 Grrant was sent under escort to Bayonne, where he arrived 
 safely. Por a moment the escort left him alone in the 
 square of the city, and Grrant availed himself of the oppor- 
 tunity by taking his seat in a diligence which was just 
 about to start for Paris. He entered the French capital as 
 an American, and made his way at once to the shop of a 
 Scotch jeweller named McPherson, who had lived through 
 all the horrors of the French Revolution, and now drove a 
 thriving trade. McPherson procured for him an Ameri- 
 can passport, under the protection of which he spent several 
 weeks in Paris, never omitting all the while to communicate 
 with bis old chief. At last the suspicions of the police 
 were awakened, and under the protection of a fresh Ameri- 
 can passport, he travelled to the coast. But his funds were 
 now failing, and as a last resource he threw himself on the 
 generosity of a retired French General, the son of a Scottish 
 exile, and on the mother's side not distantly related to him- 
 self. The Frenchman behaved well on the occasion. He 
 gave the fugitive shelter, and supplied him with money,
 
 1812.] HIS ESCAPE. 165 
 
 which enabled him to secure the services of two French 
 boatmen. Not even now, however, were his perils at an end. 
 The boat had scarcely cleared Calais harbour in order to 
 reach an English cruiser, which lay a few miles off, when a 
 coast-guard cutter bore down upon it ; and the boatmen had 
 barely time to make Grraut stand upright against the mast 
 and to wrap him round with the sail which they suddenly 
 took in. The cutter passed on, and they held their course 
 towards the frigate. But not the least curious part of the 
 story, as G-rant used to tell it, is this, — the unfortunate boat- 
 men were carried to England, where orders were given to 
 treat them as prisoners of war. "With some difficulty, and 
 after considerable delay, Grrant succeeded in getting these 
 orders cancelled ; and the poor reward of 100 guineas 
 which he had promised to his liberators, was not wrung out 
 of the English treasury except after an acrimonious and 
 protracted correspondence.
 
 166 
 
 CHAPTER XYII. 
 
 OPENING OF THE CAMPAIGN SALAMANCA TAKEN BATTLE OF 
 
 SALAMANCA. 
 
 Having settled his plan of campaign, and completed all 
 his preliminary arrangements, Lord "Wellington, as soon as 
 the rain ceased, broke up from his cantonments. He passed 
 the Agueda on the 13th of June, and on the 17th reached 
 the Tormes. This he crossed by two fords, above and be- 
 low Salamanca, and after driving away some cavalry, and 
 occupying the town, which the same evening was illuminated 
 in his honour, he proceeded to invest the fortified convents. 
 His Spanish correspondjents had misled him in regard to 
 these convents. They described them as enclosed by a wall, 
 so inartistically constructed, that a few rounds from a field 
 battery would knock it down, and Lord Wellington, to 
 whom time was of the utmost value, attacked it with his 
 light artillery. After expending as much ammunition as he 
 could spare, and finding that no progress was made, he sent 
 back to Almeida for a fresh supply, and for a battering train. 
 Meanwhile Marmont, who had quitted Salamanca as the 
 English army approached, succeeded, by great exertion, in 
 calling his scattered divisions together. He advanced on 
 the 20th with 25,000 good troops, and on the 23rd 10,000 
 more overtook him. A series of movements followed, with 
 some sharp affairs of cavalry and a little infantry skirmish- 
 ing. Both armies threw corps across the Tormes ; one seek- 
 ing to communicate with the convents, the other to prevent 
 it J till by and by the English battering train came up from
 
 1812.] COXVEXTS TAKEN. 167 
 
 Almeida, and the siege began in earnest. On the 27th, one 
 of the convents was breached and another in flames. The 
 commandant requested two hours to arrange terms of capi- 
 tulation. Lord Wellington allowed him five minutes. The 
 five minutes passed without an answer, and the convents 
 were stormed and taken. 
 
 The fall of these convents warned Marshal Marmont 
 that he had no longer any business where he was. He 
 wrote to Joseph and Cafiarelli begging them earnestly to 
 come to his support, and began immediately to retire. His 
 retrograde movement was made in the night, between the 
 28th and 29th of June. He took the direction of the 
 Douro, and moved by the two roads which conduct to 
 Tordesillas and Toro. Lord Wellington followed. But 
 again his spies brought him false intelligence, and he just 
 missed striking a heavy blow at the enemy while in the act 
 of crossing the Douro. "With the river between them, the 
 two armies halted and faced one another. Both were willing 
 to receive, neither desired to deliver a battle. Por finding 
 that with numbers so evenly balanced, the chances were 
 against him who should take the initiative, each Greneral had 
 his own reasons for desiring to postpone the crisis. Mar- 
 mont waited for Caifarelli and Joseph. Lord Wellington 
 expected that, through mere lack of provisions, Marmont 
 would be obliged, before many days passed, to shift his 
 groxmd. Besides, he learned at this time that the co-opera- 
 tion from Sicily, on which he had counted, was not forth- 
 coming. The English Grovernment, as if on purpose to 
 show that it was incapable of beiiig taught, even by experi- 
 ence, had suddenly changed the direction of the Sicilian 
 army. It was sent not to Catalonia but to the north of 
 Italy, thus uncovering, so to speak. Lord Wellington's flank 
 and deranging thereby his whole plan of campaign. A 
 victory over Marmont would under the circumstances be 
 of little real value to him. It might add lustre to his per- 
 sonal renown, and produce a moral eflect elsewhere, but 
 no advantage could be taken of it upon the spot, because a 
 further advance into the heart of Spain would only expose 
 him to be beset by overwhelming nimibers. He contented
 
 168 MAX(EUVRES. [1812. 
 
 himself therefore with abiding M-here he was and waiting 
 the course of events. 
 
 Well nigh a fortnight so passed. Marmont and Lord 
 "Wellington faced each other, the Douro flowing between. 
 Sir Rowland Hill kept a steady eye upon Soult from his 
 head-quarters at Merida. Joseph, troubled by many rmnours, 
 and the exploits of Gruerilla bands, stood fast in ]\Iadrid. 
 Suchet clung to Catalonia, while Caffarelli was restrained at 
 Burgos by exaggerated accounts of the strength of Castanos's 
 army then engaged in the siege of Astorga. At last how- 
 ever, in consequence, as subsequently came ou.t, of peremp- 
 tory orders from Madrid, Marmont assumed the offensive. 
 On the evening of the 16th two Prench divisions crossed 
 the Douro at Toro. After remaining in sight of the Eng- 
 lish all day, they withdrew again in the night, and march- 
 ing rapidly towards Tordesillas, were there with the rest of 
 the army carried over the river. An aff'air of cavalry fol- 
 lowed, in which the enemy had the advantage, and their 
 march was continued towards the Guarena. It was Mar- 
 mont's object to throw himself between Lord Wellington and 
 Ciudad-Eodrigo, and he well nigh succeeded. Indeed, for 
 several days such a succession of movements took place 
 as put the two armies on their mettle, without either offer- 
 ing to the other the opportunity which both desired of 
 striking home, at an advantage. 
 
 Marmont moved all this while towards a ford on the Grua- 
 rena, over which the castle of Alba de Tormes dominates. It 
 was a point about which Lord Wellington was not anxious, 
 because he had himself placed in the castle a Spanish garrison, 
 strong enough to meet and repel a coup-de-maiu. But in this 
 he deceived himself. The garrison, without any commimi- 
 eation made to him, had been withdrawn, and Marmont gained 
 his end. Lord Wellington, seeing that an advantage had been 
 gained for which he could not account, put his columns in mo- 
 tion to counteract it, and throughout the whole of the 20th the 
 two armies marched in parallel lines, within easy cannon-shot 
 of each otlier. There was a race between them for the village 
 of Cantalpino, wliich lies at the foot of a commanding emi- 
 nence. The French, having got tlie start, won the race, and
 
 1812., THE ARMIES IN TRESENCE. 169 
 
 bivouacked for the night on the high grounds of Aldea 
 Rubea, while Lord "Wellington fell back to the position at 
 San Christoval from which he had covered the siege of the 
 fortified convents of Salamanca, 
 
 Thus far the advantage in the campaign of marches 
 rested with Marshal Marmont. He had command of the 
 Tormes river, and could push on to interpose between Lord 
 Wellington and his communications, or he could fight a battle, 
 or remain in comparative security where he was till Caffarelli 
 should join him from Burgos. Lord Wellington's only course 
 was to fall back at once upon Ciudad-Eodrigo ; and with 
 excellent judgment he resolved to do so, leaving Salamanca 
 to its fate. 
 
 It was necessary to let General Castaiios know what was 
 proposed, so Lord Wellington wrote to him. The mes- 
 senger fell into the enemy's hands, and Marmont became 
 aware of Lord Wellington's intentions. He immediately 
 crossed the Tormes at a ford between Huerta and Alba de 
 Tormes, and between Salamanca and the latter place. This 
 was on the 21st, and on the same day the English passed 
 the bridge at Salamanca. The two armies thus came into 
 presence the same afternoon. 
 
 At midnight information reached Lord Wellington that 
 Caffarelli's troops were beginning to arrive. He made arrange- 
 ments for a rapid march upon Ciudad-Eodrigo, but he delayed 
 beginning that march till long after dawn on the 22nd, in the 
 hope that Marmont, from over anxiety and undue confidence, 
 might commit some blunder. It is in such situations as 
 this that military genius of the highest order finds its pro- 
 per field of action. A great General calculates on the 
 temperament of his adversary quite as much as upon, the 
 strength of battalions and the positions which they occupy ; 
 and Lord Wellington had seen enough of Marmont to arrive 
 at the conclusion that, skilful as he had shown himself in 
 handling troops, he was not unlikely to be run away with. 
 No great while elapsed ere Lord Wellington's anticipations 
 were fulfilled. Seeing the English stiU before him, Mar- 
 mont made a dash to anticipate them in their designs. 
 There were two hills, called the Arepiles, on the plateau
 
 170 BATTLE. [1812. 
 
 about Tvliicli the hostile armies ^ve^e ranged, one of which 
 crossed in some measure the French line of march. Lord 
 Wellington detached a Portuguese brigade to seize that 
 hill ; but the movements of the French were more rapid than 
 those of the Portuguese, and after a brief contest the former 
 crowned the height. A battery of guns was immediately 
 run up, and jNIannont, believing that he had blocked the 
 great road to Ciudad-Eodrigo, proceeded to make the most 
 of the advantage which he had won. 
 
 On two hills, each commanding a full view of the field of 
 operations, the English and French Grenerals had taken post. 
 How Marmont conducted himself and what he said or did I 
 am not informed, but Lord Wellington looked round with a 
 clear and unembarrassed gaze, and issued, in his usually 
 quiet tone of voice, such orders as were necessary. While 
 the troops on both sides shifted their ground as if on a 
 field-day, he and his staiF sat down to breakfast. Ifot one 
 of Marmont's objects seems to have been mistaken by Lord 
 Wellington. He saw that already the French order of bat- 
 tle was too difluse, and he anticipated from what was going 
 on that it woidd soon be interrupted altogether. He was 
 correct in that conjecture. About three in the afternoon 
 two divisions, one of infantry and one of cavalry, which 
 formed the left of the French line, began suddenly to step 
 out. They moved in the direction of some high ground, 
 and of a village which lay about half a league in advance of 
 them, and were far on their way towards it before troops 
 from the centre arrived to fill the void. The blot was seen 
 and hit on the instant. General Pakenham, with his in- 
 fantry division supported by two batteries and a brigade of 
 cavalry, was launched upon the rear of the French left. 
 Cole and Leith, having Clinton and Hope in reserve, 
 threw themselves upon the head of the centre, and Pack's 
 Portuguese rushed at the hill, from which in the early part 
 of the day the enemy had driven them off. A fierce battle 
 ensued, of which the issues were not for a moment doubtful. 
 Marmont, galloping to bring up support, was struck by 
 a round shot and carried off the field. General Tho- 
 niiers, on whom the command devolved, received a wound at
 
 1S12.] EESULTS OF THE BATTLE. 171 
 
 the same time, -which disabled him. Bonnet, the next in 
 point of seniority, fell likewise ; and before General Clausel 
 could arrive at the extreme right, all was confusion. 
 
 It was well for Clausel and the wreck of his army that the 
 force which held the hill against which the Portuguese were 
 sent fought so stoutly. They were powerful in artillery, and 
 repulsed the assailants more than once ; indeed, it was not till 
 Lord Wellington brought up the 6th British division that 
 the enemy gave way. Time was thus afforded, of which Clausel 
 made good use, to organize a strong rear-guard, under cover 
 of which he drew off his fugitives, and restored some order 
 among them. But, after all, the French owed their escape 
 from total destruction to the closing in of night. It was 
 dusk before Lord Wellington, after mastering the hill, could 
 fall upon the French rear- guard, and quite dark ere the 
 wood under cover of which the enemy fought could be 
 cleared. Even under such circumstances, however, escape 
 would have been impossible but for the evacuation of Alba 
 de Tormes by the Spaniards, of which Lord Wellington was 
 still kept in ignorance. While therefore he pressed forward, 
 expecting to find the enemy crowded about the ford at 
 Huerta, they stole away by the road which leads to Alba, 
 and were across the Tormes before the fact became known, 
 all except a rear-guard of infantry and cavalry, which was 
 charged and cut to pieces by Bock's brigade of heavy Ger- 
 man di'agoons. 
 
 The battle of Salamanca was by far the most decisive 
 which had been fought since the commencement of the war. 
 There were engaged, on the side of the English, 46,400 men, 
 of whom 3500 were Spaniards. The enemy brought into the 
 field 43,000 of all arms, so that in point of mere numbers. 
 Lord AVellington was superior to Marmont. But when we 
 look to the composition of their respective armies, this ad- 
 vantage, not very great in itself, sinks into nothing. The 
 killed and wounded amounted to 6000, or thereabouts, on 
 the part of the French, and to 5220 on the part of the allies. 
 The English found at the close of the day 74 men missing, 
 the Portuguese 184. The number of prisoners taken from 
 the enemy amounted to between 6000 and 7000. Of the
 
 172 HIS HO^'OL'RS. [1812. 
 
 3500 Spaniards in ttie field, only two were killed and four 
 wounded ; a pretty sure index of the amount of service which 
 they had been able to render. The rout was complete ; and 
 its consequences were felt and acknowledged all over Europe. 
 Napoleon heard of it on his march to Moscow, and accepted 
 it as an omen of evil. It encouraged the Eussians to make 
 fresh sacrifices, and called up in Germany dreams of approach- 
 ing deliverance. It put a stop, also, to those negotiations 
 with JosejDh which members of the Spanish Cortes were car- 
 rying on, and it knit the English and Portuguese armies into 
 one. To Lord "Wellington himself it brought an acciunula- 
 tion of honours from all the Grovernnients which he served. 
 Created an Earl after the capture of Badajoz, he was now 
 advanced by the Prince Eegent to the dignity of a Mar- 
 quis. Spain gave him the Dukedom of Ciudad-Eodrigo, a 
 Knighthood of the Golden Eleece, and the rank of General- 
 issimo of her armies : while Portugal conferred upon him 
 the Marquisate of Torres Vedras, together with a palace 
 in Lisbon. These dignities and marks of popular favour he 
 received neither with unbecoming elevation nor with afiected 
 indifference. They added nothing to his real greatness, and 
 he knew it ; but they testified to the gratitude of the coun- 
 tries which he served, and on that account he prized them.
 
 173 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 LORD WELLINGTON IN MADRID SIEGE OF BURGOS — RETREAT 
 
 TO THE PORTUGUESE FRONTIER. 
 
 Two courses were now open to the Marquis. Either he 
 might follow the wreck of Marmont's army, driving that and 
 CaiFarelli's corps beyond the Pyrenees, or he might turn 
 round upon Joseph, and, with or without a fresh battle, 
 deliver Madrid. He chose the latter alternative, partly be- 
 cause a long march to the North would endanger his com- 
 munications ; which Joseph, Soult, and Suchet were all in 
 a condition to threaten ; partly because he persuaded himself 
 that if anything could re-awaken the old spirit of Spain, the 
 thought that the capital was wrested from the invader would 
 do so. He contented himself therefore with seeing Clause! 
 across the Douro, and with placing a Spanish corps in Yal- 
 ladolid ; while one of his own divisions, with two brigades 
 of cavalry, observed the course of the river. He then faced 
 about to meet Joseph, who had for some days been upon the 
 march, hoping to join Marmont before he came into collision 
 with the English. Joseph heard of Lord "Wellington's ap- 
 proach in good time. He declined to measui'e swords with 
 him, and, covered by his cavalry, in which he was strong, 
 retreated through the passes of the mountains to Madrid. 
 There he waited only to collect his enormous baggage and 
 retinue, and then fell back leisurely towards the Tagus. 
 Lord Wellington has been blamed by military critics, first, 
 for quitting Clausel as soon as he did, and next for allowing 
 Joseph, encumbered with booty, to escape across the Tagus.
 
 l"-i IN MADRID. [1812. 
 
 The censure, as applied to the former of these proceedings, 
 appears to me to be unjust I cannot quite see my way to a 
 satisfactory vindication of Lord Wellington's policy in the 
 second instance. Had he left Madrid on one side and pur- 
 sued Joseph he must have overtaken and destroyed him. 
 But the greatest generals who ever lived have sometimes 
 erred, and Lord Wellington, were he now among us to plead 
 his own cause, would probably be able to show that not 
 his policy but our judgment upon it is in fault. 
 
 Lord Wellington entered Madrid on the 12th of August. 
 The reception awarded to him was enthusiastic in the ex- 
 treme. At Strathfieldsay there is a painting which describes 
 this scene pretty nearly as it occurred, — the great com- 
 mander, on horseback, with only one English officer, the late 
 Lord Eaglan, in his train ; while Spaniards of all ranks and 
 conditions, grandees, hidalgos, priests, soldiers, citizens, are 
 crowding round him and ladies clinging to his stirrup-leathers 
 in a state of the highest excitement. Carpets cover the 
 pavements, and rich tapestry floats from every lattice, while 
 windows, balconies, and the very tops of the houses, are alive 
 with human forms. It was indeed the welcome of an ancient 
 capital to its deliverer, of which the expression was con- 
 tinued after night-fall by illuminations, and carried on through 
 successive days by fetes, carousals, and theatrical represent- 
 ations. 
 
 There is an old Moorish castle called the Eetiro, which 
 dominates over Madrid. It was begirt at this time with a 
 triple waU, and a Trench garrison held it; a most unwise 
 arrangement on the part of King Joseph, though not, per- 
 haps, greatly to be wondered at, seeing that the place was full 
 of military stores. Before the Eetiro, the British army im- 
 mediately sat down, and in 24 hours the castle, with its de- 
 fenders and stores, surrendered. And then came a pause, 
 for which I confess myself unable to account. Lord Wel- 
 lington's correspondence throws no more light upon the 
 subject than this, that he himself, having achieved a 
 great moral triumph, could not see, in the wretched 
 state into which Spain had fallen, how it was to be turn- 
 ed to account, i'or J 7 days, therefore, he gave his troops
 
 1812.] THE SPAXIARDS SUPINE. 175 
 
 rest, hoping against hope that the Spaniards would do 
 something, and vainly urging the Grovernment to concert 
 with him a plan of operations, and adhere to it. The result 
 is best shown in the subjoined extract of a letter addressed 
 by him, on the 23rd of August, to his brother : " What can 
 be done for this lost nation ? As for raising men or sup- 
 plies, or taking any other measure to enable them to carry 
 on the war, that is out of the question. Indeed, there is 
 nobody to excite them to exertion, or to take advantage of 
 the enthusiasm of the people, or of their enmity against the 
 French. Even the guerillas are getting quietly into the 
 large towns and amusing themselves, or collecting plunder 
 of a better and more valuable description ; and nobody looks 
 forward to the exertions to be made, either to improve or to 
 secure our advantage." 
 
 If Lord Wellington was baffled on one hand by the 
 supineness of Spain, the French Marshals began to suffer 
 on the other from the continual di-aughts which Napoleon 
 made upon them for reinforcements to his army in the 
 North. Day by day heavy detachments took the road to 
 France, till by and by, after providing garrisons for forti- 
 fied places, they could not reckon on being able to bring 
 into the field more than 120,000 or 130,000 men. To meet 
 these Lord Wellington had under his own immediate orders 
 at Madrid about 45,000, of whom 15,000 were Spaniards, 
 while General Hill, with 14,000 or 15,000 more, was in Es- 
 tremadura, keeping Soult in check. One division of infantry, 
 perhaps 5000 strong, with two brigades of cavalry, say 2000, 
 were on the Douro ; and now, at length, the arrival of the 
 expedition from Sicily was reported. But besides that the 
 strength of that corps never exceeded 6000 men, the oflicer 
 in command (Greneral Maitland) committed the twofold mis- 
 take of landing at a wrong place, and entering upon his 
 work in a spirit of despondency. Lord Wellington made 
 haste to apply, as far as circumstances would allow, a cor- 
 rection to both grievances. He caused the troops to re-em- 
 bark, and go round to the theatre of their operations ; and 
 he assured Greneral Maitland that whatever the issues of 
 the enterprise might be, he himself was prepared to assume
 
 176 HIS PROJECTS. [1812. 
 
 the entire responsibility. But the loss of two precious 
 weeks could not be atoned for, and the consequences in due 
 course developed themselves. 
 
 We gather from Lord Wellington's correspondence, that 
 the idea of dislodging the enemy from Andalusia presented 
 itself strongly at this time to his mind. It appears certain 
 that if the force from Sicily had been punctual in its arrival, 
 he would have invaded that province. He even directed 
 General Cook, who was in command at Gibraltar, to keep 
 the enemy before Cadiz on the alert, and as early as the 
 16th of August he began to make preparations for marching 
 through the Sierra Morena. It is equally clear that Mar- 
 shal Soult, the ablest of Napoleon's Generals then in Spain, 
 contemplated the probability of such an enterprise with dis- 
 may. Joseph, on the other hand, was bent on recovering Ma- 
 drid. He commanded Soult to raise the siege of Cadiz, and 
 to move towards Valencia, in order to join him. Suchet 
 received similar orders, and, though not without reluctance, 
 obeyed them, so that by the 25th of August three French 
 corps were in march to form a junction. Meanwhile the 
 beaten army of Portugal had rallied, and being reinforced by 
 Cafiarelli, returned upon its steps. The Spaniards were 
 driven out of Valladolid, and strong French patrols of 
 cavalry crossing the Douro, occasioned much anxiety, up to 
 the gates of Salamanca. Before he could strike at Soult, 
 Lord' Wellington saw that it would be necessary to chase 
 these intruders away, in order to render secure the transit by 
 Salamanca, Ciudad-Eodrigo, and Almeida, which still con- 
 stituted, and must for some time continue to constitute, the 
 real line of his communication with Lisbon. He therefore 
 told off two divisions for the protection of Madrid, and de- 
 siring Hill to press Drouet hard in Estremadura, he set 
 off with the rest of the army towards the North. 
 
 There befell during Lord Wellington's stay in Madrid one 
 or two events, which, illustrating as they do the character 
 of the man, seem to demand at least passing notice. He 
 found that he was already the subject of Spanish song ; and 
 now at the request of the municipal authorities he consented 
 to sit to a Spanish artist. The songs had been composed
 
 1812.] SITS TO A PAINTER. 177 
 
 chiefly by Senor Morette, a musician of considerable emi- 
 nence, who resided in Cadiz. They were extravagantly 
 laudatory in terms, but the music was good ; and nothing 
 seemed to please the gallant Marquis more than to sit and 
 listen to them. Indeed, he not unfrequently called for them, 
 reminding his fellow-guests of some warrior chief in ages 
 long past, to whom the enumeration of his own glorious 
 deeds by the bard who followed his standard, was the most 
 grateful tribute that could be paid. It would seem, however, 
 that our modern chief was not always in the same good hu- 
 mour. Dr McGregor had remained behind after the battle 
 of Salamanca to provide for the wants of the sick and 
 Avounded, which he did zealously. He arrived in Madrid 
 some time after the first burst of exultation had subsided, 
 and proceeding to make his report to the commander of the 
 forces, found him sitting to the artist who had been selected 
 to paint his portrait. The Marquis listened in silence till 
 McGrregor began to describe how he had ordered up purvey- 
 ors and commissariat officers from the rear with supplies, and 
 then the suppressed volcano burst out. The Marquis sprang 
 to his feet, and demanded in an angry tone what right Dr 
 McGregor had to do that. The Doctor's assurance that 
 nothing else could have saved many valuable lives seemed 
 to make no impression upon his auditor. Neither was the 
 Marquis mollified by a reference which McGregor with 
 doubtful discretion made to the outcry which had been raised 
 in England when the wounded were abandoned after the 
 battle of Talavera. " I shall be glad to know," exclaimed 
 the angry Marquis, "who commands this army, you or I. I 
 establish one route, one line of communication, and you 
 establish another, and order the commissariat and supplies 
 to move by that ! As long as you live. Sir, never do so 
 again; never do anything without my orders." "But, my 
 Lord, the case was urgent : there was no time to get your 
 orders." " That don't signify. Never act again, without 
 orders, be the consequences what they may." 
 
 So spoke the great man in his anger : unreasonably, as 
 angry men always do; yet such fits never lasted long with 
 him, and on the present occasion he soon showed, in his 
 
 12
 
 178 GOES TO MEET THE ENEMY. [1813. 
 
 own peculiar waj, that he was conscious of his error. He 
 sat down ; and almost before the painter could resume his 
 task, said to McGrregor in a tone more than usually kind, 
 " Come and dine with me to-day. You'll meet the G-uerilla 
 chief. El Medico ; who knows but you may get something 
 out of him, in your own profession, worth remembering ?" 
 
 Let me not quit this subject without observing that the 
 Spanish portrait, though well begun, was never finished. 
 The artist, delighted with the expulsion of the French from 
 Madrid, worked at it for a while enthusiastically. But so 
 much were he and his employers disgusted by the subse- 
 quent evacuation of the city, that they refused to go on 
 with it. In its unfinished state it now hangs in the hall at 
 Strathfieldsay. 
 
 In pursuance of the plan which he had carefully matured, 
 Lord Wellington quitted Madrid ; and, gathering up Greneral 
 Clinton's division and his cavalry posts as he went along, 
 he arrived on the 7th of September at YaUadolid. The 
 French quitted the place when they heard of his approach. 
 They fell back in excellent order, and after a few marches 
 halted and offered him battle. This he evaded, rather than 
 declined. He was in hourly expectation of being joined by 
 the army of Galicia, of which the estimated strength was 
 20,000 men ; and comparatively worthless as Spanish soldiers 
 were, 20,000 of them could effect something. The French, 
 on the other hand, appeared nowise bent upon forcing on a 
 collision. Not being attacked, they retired, and thus from 
 day to day both parties marched till they arrived within a 
 few miles of Burgos. There the French halted, and took 
 up a position which seemed to cover that place just as the 
 army of Galicia, 11,300 strong, arrived in Lord Wellington's 
 lines. 
 
 There was no further reason why he should hesitate to 
 strike. He made arrangements therefore for fighting a battle 
 on the l7th, but the dawn of day disclosed the fact that the 
 enemy were gone. They had seen the fires of the Spanish 
 troops during the night, and immediately retreated. Lord 
 AVellington followed, and soon found himself with the river 
 Arlanza in his front ; the fords over which, as well as the
 
 1812.] BURGOS ATTACKED. 179 
 
 roads leading up to them, lay under tlie guns of tlie castle. 
 It took some hours to surmount this first difficulty, and 
 greater forthwith presented themselves. He could not 
 afford to leave Burgos in his rear ; he had no siege-train at 
 hand, nor any other means wherewith to approach the place 
 in regular form. He determined, therefore, after a close 
 reconnaissance, to trust to the valour of his troops, and to 
 risk an assault. Everything was done which under such 
 circumstances courage and skill could effect, but to no 
 purpose. Having no corps of practical engineers to help 
 him, he drove mines, which exploded either too soon or 
 uselessly. The fire of his field guns made little impression, 
 and every attempt to carry the main work by escalade 
 failed. The siege began on the 18th of September, and on 
 the 18th of October the last assault was delivered, in which 
 not fewer than 274 officers and men fell, raising the total 
 loss during the month to 1565. 
 
 Lord Wellington had drawn the cord tight, well-nigh to 
 breaking. In his front lay Greneral Souham, at the head of 
 what had formerly been Marmont's and Caflarelli's armies, 
 which in point of numbers thus united equalled, if they did 
 not surpass, his own army. Tidings came in from Greneral 
 Hill, that Joseph, Soult, and Suchet were united, and that 
 with an enormous force they were in full march upon Madrid. 
 Now Hill was too weak to risk a battle with any prospect 
 of success, and defeat would have uncovered at once the 
 line of Lord Wellington's communications. But to protect 
 that line, and at the same time to draw back in the direction 
 of the main army, appeared to be impossible. Lord Wel- 
 lington so circumstanced had no power of choice. He de- 
 sired Hill to abandon the line of the Tagus, and to march 
 upon the Adaja, where he promised to meet him. This 
 done, he himself waited only till night set in, and then 
 began his movement to the rear. There was but one 
 bridge over the Arlanza, and upon that the guns of the 
 castle looked down. To get horses and carriages across in 
 the stillness of the night without attracting attention seemed 
 no easy matter. He gave orders that horsemen should ride 
 in loose order, and at a walk. He wrapped the wheels of
 
 180 EETREAT BEGU:S". [1S12 
 
 his guns and carriages in straw, and enjoined perfect silence 
 in the ranks. For a time all went well, and a considerable por- 
 tion of the army got across uimoticed ; but by and by a 
 body of Spanish horsemen chose to dash across the bridge at 
 a gallop, and the noise which they made roused the sleeping 
 garrison. A fire was immediately opened upon the bridge, 
 and all who subsequently traversed it, did so subject to the 
 crash from time to time of round shot among them. 
 
 It is not difficult to write all this, it is easy to read it 
 when written, but to get everything ready for such a start 
 at such a time and under such circumstances taxed even 
 Lord Wellington's energies to the uttermost. His sick 
 and wounded always gave him great anxiety, and never 
 more so than at the present moment. The thought of 
 leaving them behind was terrible. Let the truth however be 
 told, for no man ever lived who could better aftbrd to be 
 described as he was. The failure before Burgos fretted 
 him. He was dissatisfied with himself and with everybody 
 else, and spoke harshly to all .who approached him. Dr 
 McGrregor, among others, came in for his own share of sharp 
 words, which the Highland pride of the chief of the medical 
 staff" bore with difficulty. This was early in the day pre- 
 ceding the commencement of the retreat, and McGregor 
 returned to his own quarters, sick and sulky. By and by a 
 message came that Lord Wellington desired to see him 
 that evening ; but the Doctor was still in high dudgeon, 
 and feeling really unwell, he made the most of his malady, 
 and refused to attend. At an early hour next morning, 
 however, he proceeded to Lord AVellington's house, and found 
 that about three o'clock the Marquis had mounted his horse, 
 and ridden off" to the front. 
 
 McGregor followed. The English army was under arms, 
 in the expectation, as it appeared, of being attacked ; and 
 Lord Wellington stood on a hill with a numerous staff 
 about Lim, searching the French lines with his telescope. 
 No sooner was McGregor's name pronounced, than the 
 Marquis put up his telescope, and taking the Doctor by 
 the arm, led him out of the crowd. What followed can best 
 be told in the words of one of the actors in the scene. He
 
 1812.] RETREAT CONTINUED. ISl 
 
 said, " "We can't keep Madrid. Hill is overpo-wered, and 
 marching to join nie ; and I must be off this very night. 
 But what is to become of the sick and wounded ? I fear 
 they are very numerous, and there are many wounded who 
 can't be moved. What do you propose to do ?" I replied, 
 " I was happy to> inform him that our sick and wounded 
 were not numerous ; that seeing how his mind was occupied 
 with the siege, I had taken it upon me to get carts from 
 the commissariat, and to employ them and the mules which 
 brought up provisions in removing the sick and wounded to 
 Talladolid." " Very Avell indeed," was his reply; " but how 
 many have Ave in Burgos ?" '• Xot more than 60, and these 
 mostly too bad to move." "Admirable. I shall be off to- 
 night. Let nobody know this from you, and make your own 
 arrangements." 
 
 Did the Marquis remember, then, what had passed be- 
 tween him and Doctor INIcGrregor, Avhen they discussed at 
 Madrid a question somewhat similar ; or was he, like all 
 really great men, able and williug to contradict himself 
 when an occasion arose which demanded that sacrifice ? 
 
 The retreat from Burgos to the Portuguese frontier was 
 one of those operations which try to the uttermost both the 
 skill of the commander and the endurance of the men. The 
 commander had to provide not for his own safety alone, but for 
 that of two corps besides which were approaching him from 
 opposite quarters; the men, marching and halting at uncertain 
 intervals, suffered severely from fiitigue, from exposure, aud 
 from want of provisions. Constant vigilance was necessary in 
 the rear, constant circumspection everywhere. A halt for two 
 nights and a day upon some strong ground above the Carrion, 
 enabled the brigade of Guards to come up from Corunua; and 
 now Hill, with his corps iu full march from Madrid, must be 
 approached as near as was compatible with keeping open the 
 communication with Ciudad Eodrigo. The point of junction 
 originally settled was Euedo, a little town standing about 
 midway between the rivers Adaja and Douro. And towards 
 it Hill, after burning his pontoons and heavy baggage, made 
 his way. He threaded the passes of the Guadiana witli 
 Soult at his heels. But he was yet a few miles on the farther
 
 182 THE EXEMY BAFFLED. [1812. 
 
 side of the Adaja when a courier from Lord "Wellington met 
 him with instructions to turn oiF towards Alba on the 
 Tormes. Then began a series of movements which, involving, 
 as they did, the passage of deep rivers, and the attack and de- 
 fence of bridges, and the attempts on one side to seize, and 
 on the other to protect, roads and passes ®f vital importance, 
 well deserve to be followed in detail by all students of the art 
 of war. For the purposes of the general reader it may suffice 
 to say, that at every turn the enemy were baffled ; that 
 Souham, often striving, never succeeded in placing himself 
 by Lord A\^elliugton's left upon the line of his communica- 
 tions ; that Soult could not cut in between Lord Wellington 
 and General Hill ; and that on the same ground, where a few 
 months previously Marmont had been defeated, Wellington 
 and Hill, united,' oftered battle with 6i,000 against 90,000 
 men. But the enemy declined the challenge. Joseph, Soult, 
 Jourdan, Souham, were all in Lord Wellington's front, and to 
 Soult appears to have been entrusted the responsibility of di- 
 recting their combined operations. He adhered to what had 
 been the original plan of campaign, persisting in the attempt 
 to get between the English and their base. He entii'ely failed. 
 
 Lord Wellington, after standing under arms till two 
 o'clock in the afternoon of the 15th of November, took 
 advantage of a fog, and moving rapidly, headed the column 
 which Soult had sent to his own left. From that hour the 
 English were masters of the situation. It rested with them 
 either to halt and fight, or to continue their retreat as they 
 might prefer, and Lord Wellington, for obvious reasons, 
 chose the latter alternative. 
 
 A great feat had been performed. The army was extri- 
 cated from a situation of extraordinary peril and difficulty, 
 without the loss of a gun, and with comparatively few casual- 
 ties. It suiFered, indeed, in discipline, as retiring armies 
 always do ; and the seeds of disease were sown. Through- 
 out the 16th, l7th, and 18th, cold rains fell continually. 
 These, besides soaking the men through and through, swelled 
 every stream, and rendered the roads, which wound chiefly 
 through a forest of oak-trees, well nigh impassable. More- 
 over the commissariat quite broke down, and hungry soldiers
 
 1S12.] SAFE OYER THE AGUEDA. 183 
 
 cannot always be restrained from committing irregularities. 
 The woods happened to be full of swine, and the men kept 
 up a tantalizing fire of musketry upon the animals, as often 
 as they showed themselves. This was the more inconveni- 
 ent that the enemy pressed upon the rear of the columns, 
 and it was not always possible to determine whether or not 
 a serious engagement had taken place. On the whole, how- 
 ever, the retreat was conducted, if not in perfect order, cer- 
 tainly without serious loss. As often as the French advance 
 came up with the English rear, it was driven back ; indeed, 
 but for the unfortunate capture of Sir Edward Paget, Lord 
 Wellington's second in command, Avho, being short-sighted, 
 and crippled by the loss of his right arm, was unable to 
 escape from a body of French cavalry on which he fell, there 
 would have been no cause to speak of the movement as, in 
 any sense of the term, disastrous. At last, on the 19th, the 
 Agueda was gained, and the army began to pass. In the 
 course of the 20th the whole of the divisions were across, and 
 by and by the pleasant order was given to go into canton- 
 ments between that river and the Coa. 
 
 There was nothing to stay that arrangement. The enemy, 
 like the English, had outmarched their supplies, and grew 
 slack in the pursuit. They finally established themselves 
 below Valladolid and Toledo, while Lord Wellington, sending 
 Hill towards the Tagus, that he might occupy Coria, Palen- 
 cia, and Bejar, placed his people under cover, and fixed his 
 own head-quarters at Frenada.
 
 184 
 
 CHAPTEE XIX. 
 
 WINTER QUARTERS OPENING OF THE CAMPAIGN OP 1S13 
 
 BATTLE OP VITTORIA. 
 
 Tidings of tlie failure before Burgos and of the retreat to 
 tlie Portuguese frontier spread far and wide. They startled 
 the allied powers in the north of Europe. They re-awakened 
 the fears and the hostility to the war of the English opposi- 
 tion in both Houses of Parliament. They frightened a 
 timid administration in London ; and induced the disaf- 
 fected in the Spanish Cortes to renew their intrigues with 
 Joseph. Lord Wellington carried off his own mortification 
 with excellent skill. He wrote and spoke of past events as 
 mere accidents in a great struggle ; and generously took 
 upon himself faults which might have been chai'ged upon 
 others. His arguments had their weight with all reason- 
 able people ; but that which best served his purpose and 
 the purpose of the home Government, was the destruction of 
 the Prench army in Russia, and the return of Napoleon, at 
 this critical moment, alone and a fugitive to Paris. Now then, 
 at last, a belief began to be entertained that the power of 
 Prance was not irresistible ; and the predictions of their own 
 hero, long treated as the outpoui"ings of enthusiasm, were 
 remembered with respect by the English people. As to 
 himself, he saw that a crisis in affairs was .come ; and he did 
 his best to take advantage of it. He vigorously applied 
 himself to improve the equipment of his army. A baggage 
 and pontoon train were organized. Tents were issued for 
 the shelter of his men, and improved cooking utensils were
 
 1813.] VISITS CADIZ. 185 
 
 served out to tliem. Fiually in tlie depth of winter lie made 
 a journey to Cadiz, and once more came face to face 
 with the Spanish Government. His reception was even 
 more enthusiastic and apparently more cordial than it had 
 been on a former occasion. Every suggestion which he 
 made w^as assented to at once. Spanish armies were no 
 longer to act independently ; the whole being consolidated 
 into three corps, were to be fed and otherwise provided for 
 at the expense of Spain, but to take their orders only from 
 Lord Wellington. Liberal of promises, the Spanish Grovern- 
 ment, as usual, violated every pledge when the moment of 
 action came. " I am sorry to inform you," wrote Lord 
 AVelliugton, within a month of returning to Frenada, " that 
 my intentions are entirely thwarted by the Government, 
 which has broken all its engagements entered into with 
 me, and ratified in its letter of the 1st of January." 
 The conclusion of the whole matter was, that however will- 
 ing he might be to employ Spanish troops, and to assign to 
 them their proper part in a war in which they ought to have 
 been principals, he was forced to arrange his plans for the 
 next campaign as if no such bodies as Spanish armies had 
 been in existence. 
 
 The reader of Napier's history of this memorable war 
 may not be unapt to imagine that the six years over which 
 it extended, were years of unremitting toil and suffering and 
 danger to all who lived through them. Of toil and suffering, 
 and danger too, the troops had from time to time enough ; 
 but every season of repose, and especially the winter, brought 
 great enjoyment in its train, into which no one entered more 
 heartily than Lord "Wellington himself. I shall take occa- 
 sion, by and by, to show how he encouraged field sports among 
 his ofiicers, and how he himself shared in them. For the 
 present we will confine our attention to in-door gaieties, to 
 the balls which went forward, and the theatrical perform- 
 ances, of which two may be described as fair specimens of 
 many. 
 
 If Lord Wellington favoured one of the divisions of his 
 army more than the rest, it was the Light Division. Trained 
 imder Sir John Moore at Hythe, and brought by Craufurd
 
 1S6 THEATRICALS. [1S13. 
 
 to perfection in the field, the regiments composing it were 
 models of all that good infantry ought to be ; the men 
 well drilled, well disciplined, excellent marchers, and vigilant 
 at the outposts : the officers punctiliously attentive to the 
 minutest details of duty, yet full withal of life and spirits. 
 Among other accomplishments several of these young men 
 possessed a decided talent for acting, and this winter they 
 brought it into play. The division was quartered in Gral- 
 lego, a small town distant about a league from Frenada. 
 There they found a half-ruined chapel, which, I am sorry to 
 say, they fitted up as a theatre. It is fair to add, however, 
 that the priest offered no objection, and that the people of 
 the town were delighted at the arrangement. The scenes 
 were painted by officers ; dresses and decorations provided ; 
 and twice or thrice a week, " His Majesty's servants " 
 represented to crowded and applauding audiences the pieces 
 most in vogue in that day. It was Lord "VVelliugton's cus- 
 tom to ride over, and be present from time to time at these 
 performances. Nor were balls and other pleasantries want- 
 ing. A few English ladies had followed their husbands into 
 the field, who, with such Spanish or Portuguese belles as 
 could be looked up, supplied partners to the minority. 
 The majority danced^ as a celebrated Presbyterian divine has 
 suggested that all gentlemen should do, with one another. 
 At these entertainments, likewise. Lord Wellington was a 
 frequent guest, and heartily he appeared to enjoy the fun. 
 
 The great festival of all was, however, one which deserves 
 to be more accurately described. Instructions reached Lord 
 "Wellington early in January, 1813, to invest General Cole 
 with the ensignia of the Bath, and he readily assented, on 
 the suggestion of his younger friends, to make the ceremony 
 as imposing and interesting as possible. The officers of 
 the Liglit Division were called into counsel, and a plan of 
 operations was arranged. It was settled that the investi- 
 ture should take place in Ciudad-Eodrigo, and that the 
 ceremony should be followed by a gi-and dinner and a ball. 
 Now Ciudad-K-odrigo happened to be still in a very dilapi- 
 dated condition. The Hotel de Villc existed, but it was 
 stripped of furniture ; and of the better class of private
 
 1813.] PUBLIC DIXXER AND BALL. 187 
 
 houses, all Lad been plundered, and not a few were in ruins. 
 The ingenuity of the managing committee succeeded in 
 overcoming these difficulties. In the palace of San Ilde- 
 fonso, standing not far oif, which had by a sort of miracle 
 escaped the fury of the spoiler, rich damask hangings were 
 found. Some of these were removed to the large room in 
 the Hotel de Yille, and so arranged as to give to that apart- 
 ment the aspect of a brilliantly-appointed tent. Into another 
 room chairs, tables, and couches were conveyed, borrowed, 
 like the curtains, from the palace of San Ildefonso. From 
 Almeida, 25 miles off, glass and crockery were brought up. 
 Lord Wellington lent his plate, as did every one who had 
 a spoon or fork to offer, and the better to provide against 
 accidents, it was arranged that the necessary preparations 
 for the feast should go forward in Lord Wellington's kitchen 
 at Frenada. Interested and amused with the zeal of his 
 young men. Lord Wellington put himself into their hands. 
 His cooks laboured from early dawn, his plate was packed 
 and sent off, and at three o'clock in the afternoon of a clear 
 frosty winter's day, he moiinted his horse, en grand tenue, 
 with all his orders glittering on his breast. He had 17 
 miles to ride, and accomplished the distance in two hours. 
 At half past five the investiture took place, at six the in- 
 vited guests sat down to dinner, the ball began about nine, 
 and the brilliancy of the scene when Lord Wellington en- 
 tered, struck him with undisguised astonishment. Every 
 person present seemed to be in the highest possible glee. 
 The band of the 52nd discoursed eloquent music. About 
 40 ladies distributed among 200 gentlemen or more, found 
 their dancing powers taxed severely. The Marquis thre^v 
 himself into the humours of the occasion like a school-boy ; 
 he danced almost every dance, and narrowly escaped a some- 
 what ludicrous catastrophe. 
 
 The wine both at dinner and supper had circulated freely, 
 and about two in the morning a number of Spanish officers, 
 roused by its effects into enthusiasm, insisted upon carrying 
 Lord Wellington round the room in a chair. He suggested 
 that they should begin with the person of highest rank pre- 
 sent, and named the Prince of Orange. The Prince was
 
 183 CHAIRING MEMBERS. [1813. 
 
 immediately seized, and General Yandeleur, coming up with 
 a view to remonstrate, was seized in like manner. Each 
 was placed in an arm-chair, and hoisted on the shoulders of 
 four bearers. The inevitable consequences soon followed. 
 The bearers had not taken many steps before they with 
 their burtliens came down, and amid the shouts of laughter 
 that followed. Lord Wellington made his escape. He 
 mounted his horse, and under the light of a full moon, rode 
 back to his quarters at Frenada. 
 
 It was thus that more than fifty years ago, under the 
 greatest captain whom England has ever produced, Eugli.sh 
 soldiers intermixed gaiety with the work of war, and that 
 Lord AYelliugton himself put his cares aside, in order to 
 promote their amusements, and to take part in them. And 
 indeed, at this stage in the contest, his cares, though ha- 
 rassing enough, Avere become light in comparison with those 
 of the enemy. Joseph, the intrusive King, felt daj' by day 
 that his power was passing from him. Napoleon, while in- 
 vesting him with supreme military command, deprived the 
 boon of half its value by withdrawing corps after corps of 
 Erench troops from the Peninsula. And the directions 
 which he gave for disposing what remained in defensive 
 warfare, proved, when the attempt was made to act upon 
 ttiem, impracticable. The result was a complete reversal of 
 circumstances between the Erench and English commanders. 
 Lord Wellington knew that his hour was come, and made 
 ready to loosen, once and for ever, the grasp Avhich he had 
 so long held upon Portugal. 
 
 He was at this time at the head of 87,000 effective troops, 
 of whom 40,000 were English, 27,000 Portuguese, and 20,000 
 Spaniards. These he kept in hand for his grand swoop, and 
 tliey were supported at various points by other armed bodies, 
 which, including the English in Catalonia and the garrisons 
 in Gibraltar and Cadiz, raised the total strength of the . 
 allies to about 200,000 men. The Erench, on the other 
 hand, still showed a muster-roll of 230,000*on paper, but of 
 these, including the reserves at Bayonne, not more than 
 107,000 were with their colours ; and from week to week, as 
 the pressure in the Xorth became more severe, even that
 
 1813.] JOSEPH BEniXD THE EBRO. 189 
 
 Bumber suffered diminution. About 110,000 were in Lord 
 "Wellington's immediate front, scattered loosely between 
 Madrid and Pampeluna ; the rest were either with Marshal 
 Suchet in A'alencia and Catalonia, or so disposed in fortified 
 posts as to keep open the communications with France. 
 They all suffered from what was then a radical defect in the 
 French military system, for they lived from hand to mouth. 
 
 His knowledge of these facts, and of the scattered order 
 in which the enemy lay, enabled Lord Wellington, before 
 opening the campaign, to harass and distract them by va- 
 rious feints, and to fix their attention on all the lines, ex- 
 cept that which he intended to follow. This done, he waited 
 only till the rains of the early summer ceased, and then, 
 when the rivers were reduced to the lowest level, he bore 
 down upon their communications with France. 
 
 In all his wars Lord Wellington never performed an ex- 
 ploit more brilliant than this long march from the Agueda 
 to the Ebro. Over and over again the enemy endeavoured 
 to stop him. They showed themselves in force on strong 
 positions which crossed his path. But on each occasion he ap- 
 peared to sweep them aside ; for they never waited to give 
 battle. Once, and only once, near Yalladolid, Joseph seem- 
 ed disposed to try the issues of a conflict. He had 55,000 
 men in hand, with a niimerous cavalry ; and his information 
 respecting the English represented them as not greatly su- 
 perior to himself. But out-manoeuvred and circumvented, 
 he abandoned that design, and after a little hesitation gave 
 up also the line of the Pesuerga river. He describes him- 
 self in his correspondence as more than half-disposed to 
 retire at this time into !N"avarre. This course might have 
 protracted the struggle, because in Navarre Suchet could 
 have joined him. But the thought of leaving open the great 
 road into France by Bayonne frightened him, and he perse- 
 vered in keeping to the eastern provinces. So likewise the 
 recollection of what Burgos had effected in the last campaign 
 invited him to halt there. But he resisted this temptation 
 also, and causing the citadel to be blown up, went on his 
 way till he had placed the Ebro between him and his pur- 
 suers.
 
 190 OYER THE EBRO. [1813. 
 
 Lord Wellington had anticipated some resistance at Bur- 
 gos, and came prepared for it ; but an explosion, heard while 
 the heads of his columns were yet a good way off, told its own 
 tale. The place was in ruins. He would have passed it by 
 without a halt, but that the troops had outmarched their 
 supplies, and it was necessary to pause for a day or two, in 
 order that the commissariat mules might overtake them. 
 They came in due time, and then onwards, and still onwards, 
 the tide of war rolled. At last the heads of the columns 
 touched the right bank of the Ebro, where all persons, both 
 in the English and in the French army, anticipated a pause, — 
 but there was no pause. Over the rough channel of that 
 rolling river the pursuers broke, and Joseph, driven like a 
 stag to bay, turned to defend himself. 
 
 Anticipating no such issue, Joseph, as soon as he gained 
 the farther bank of the Ebro, had scattered his troops wher- 
 ever the means of subsistence appeared to be most abundant. 
 The burst of the English across that barrier took him by 
 surprise ; and his marches to concentrate again were as 
 fatiguing to the men as they proved perplexing to the Grener- 
 als of division. With great difficulty he got into position 
 on the night of the 19th, and stood with the little river 
 Zadora in his front, on a line which measured from La 
 Puebla de Arganzon on the left, to Yittoria and the village of 
 Gamara Major on the right, not less than two leagues and 
 a half. But this was not all. His line ran in a direction 
 parallel with the road through Vittoria to Bayonne. His 
 enormous baggage was all accumulated in Vittoria itself ; and 
 such was the rugged nature of the country round about, that 
 his cavalry, in which the main portion of his strength lay, 
 proved useless to him. All these defects of arrangement 
 became apparent to Lord Wellington in the course of the re- 
 connaissance which he made on the 20th, and with the early 
 dawn of the 21st he came down upon them. 
 
 Lord Wellington's plan of battle was masterly. He 
 threw the left of his army on the enemy's right, engaging at 
 the same time both the left and the centre, and driving back 
 the division which held Gamara, made himself master of 
 the great road from Vittoria to Bayonne. Now along that
 
 1813.] BATTLE OF VITTORIA. 191 
 
 road the whole of Joseph's divisions, if unable to hold their 
 ground, must necessarily march, and they did so march 
 from Puebla downwards, only to encounter obstacles, which 
 proved fatal to an orderly retreat. Vittoria itself, choked 
 up with wagons and baggage-animals, could not be entered. 
 The fugitives made a detour, and endeavoured to go round 
 the town, but there the left of the English army met them, 
 and so in the end they all turned away, rushing pele-mele 
 along the Pampeluna road. It was the most complete rout 
 that had been witnessed since the w^ar began. Nineteen 
 hundred prisoners, 151 pieces of cannon, the military chest, 
 and much of the plunder of Spain, fell into the hands of the 
 victors. Indeed, Joseph himself narrowly escaped capture ; 
 for being pursued by some English Huzzars, he had barely 
 time to get out of his carriage, mount a trooper's horse, and 
 gallop away. 
 
 The amount of fatigue which Lord Wellington went 
 through during the progress of these operations, only a con- 
 stitution cast, like his, in a mould of iron, could have en- 
 dured. Erom the hour when he crossed the Douro till the 
 battle of Vittoria came to an end, he was in the saddle day 
 by day, from early dawn till dark. His meals he eat by the 
 way-side, as they were brought up to him, and many hours^of 
 each night he spent in writing. He seemed to watch and 
 to direct every movement of every corps in his army. AYhen- 
 ever a height presented itself whence an extensive view might 
 be expected, he made for it, and he was up at the fords of 
 all the rivers often before his men began to try them. It 
 was remarked of him also, that not at any former period 
 had his good humour been more entirely sustained. No 
 mistake escaped him, no blunder passed unreproved ; but 
 reproof itself was administered rather as a duty than to in- 
 dulge temper. Even his treatment of Captain Eamsay, one 
 of the bravest and most efficient artillery officers in the army, 
 though severe, was just. Captain Eamsay had been placed 
 by Lord Wellington himself, during the progress of the bat- 
 tle of Vittoria, in a position from which he was enjoined on 
 no account to remove, except by orders of the Commander- 
 in-Chief. It was a spot, to all appearance, out of the range
 
 192 CAPTAIN RAMSAY. [1813. 
 
 of the contest, and Ramsay, as brave men under sucli circum- 
 stances are prone to do, chafed over his ouni inaction. By 
 and by things seemed to go hard with a portion of the Eng- 
 lish line, whereupon a general of division rode up to Earn- 
 say and asked in an excited tone, " What he was doing 
 there?" "Nothing," was the reply; "the Marquis placed 
 me here, and here I suppose I must remain." " The Mar- 
 quis could not mean you to remain idle here, when your 
 guns are so much wanted elsewhere ; follow me." Unfortun- 
 ately for himself, Eamsay obeyed. He galloped off, entered 
 into action, and did good service ; but the Prench were not 
 long afterwards turned at Vittoria and fled along the Pam- 
 peluua road. The direction of their retreat was communicated 
 to Lord Wellington, with these words in addition, " and 
 we've nothing up to stop them ! " " Nothing up ! " ex- 
 claimed the Marquis, " what has become of Eamsay and his 
 guns ? I placed him exactly where I knew the enemy 
 would defile, is he not there ? " The whole story was told 
 to the Marquis exactly as it befell, but he refused to be paci- 
 fied. Eamsay was not put in arrest, nor tried by a court- 
 martial ; his j)fist brilliant and useful career averted that 
 calamity ; but the command of the battery was taken from 
 him, and he was sent home. He never got over the blow. 
 Being restored to his command in 1815, he went Avith his 
 guns to Belgium, and fell in the crowning victory at A\^ater- 
 loo. 
 
 Being on the subject of Lord Wellington's general bear- 
 ing throughout the progress of this campaign, I may as well 
 describe wliat occurred between him and the chief of his medi- 
 cal staff, before the campaign began. On the day before the 
 army broke up, Dr McGregor waited upon the Marquis to 
 explain the arrangements which he had made for the care of 
 the sick and wounded. The Marquis listened attentively, 
 and when the Doctor came to an end, objected to certain 
 details and suggested others. Dr McGregor returned to his 
 quarters, thinking no more about the matter. But that same 
 night, just before retiring to bed, he received a letter in the 
 Marquis's hand-writing, which covered two folio sheets, and 
 stated in full Lord Wellington's reasons for all that he had
 
 1813.] HIS REASONABLENESS. 193 
 
 suggested ! And tlaat at a time wlien the mind of the "writer 
 must have been engrossed -n-ith a thousand other subjects, 
 some of them perhaps more important than even this. Such, 
 however, was the Duke. He liked to carry men's judgment 
 with him. He was not content, even when his will was law, 
 to give orders without making clear their reasonableness. 
 And this it was, without doubt, which, added to his promp- 
 titude and decision, won for him the entire confidence of 
 all who served under him. 
 
 IS
 
 194 
 
 CHAPTEE XX. 
 
 SIEGE OP SAN SEBASTIAN BATTLES OF THE PYRENEES. 
 
 The battle of Yittoria maj be said to have relieved the 
 north and west of the Spanish Peninsula from the presence of 
 the invader. Clausel, who was moving up the Ebro, heard 
 of the disaster while yet two days' march from Joseph, and 
 retreated into Prance. Poy, who was coming from Prance, 
 halted near Tolosa ; and collecting as many fugitives as he 
 could, endeavoured there to make a stand. But Sir Thomas 
 Grraham with the left column of the allied army fell upon 
 him, and drove him away. There remained now only three 
 garrisons to deal with, that of San Sebastian at the mouth of 
 the Urumea ; that of Pampekma, south-eastward in a gorge of 
 the mountains ; and that of Santona, midway between Pas- 
 sages and the Bidassoa. The reduction of San Sebastian aa 
 speedily as possible was felt to be expedient ; because Lord 
 Wellington had already established his communications with 
 England, through Santander, Passages, and other harbours 
 on the west coast ; and to leave the enemy in possession of a 
 stronghold whence these harbours could be even partially 
 commanded would have been unwise. About Pampeluna and 
 Santona he Avas less anxious. He contented himself, there- 
 fore, with putting both in a state of bloclcade ; while he 
 directed Sir Thomas Graham with one English division, and 
 some corps of Portuguese and Spanish troo2)s, to press the 
 siege of San Sebastian. 
 
 In order to protect these operations it was necessary to 
 observe the enemy, who, recently placed under the command
 
 1813.] AMONG THE PYRENEES. 195 
 
 of Marshal Soult, were in position on the Freucli side of 
 the Bidassoa. Now the distance between San Sebastian 
 and Pampeluna cannot be less than 60 English miles. The 
 two places are separated from each other by the Pyrenees, 
 almost all the great valleys of which rnn north and south, 
 with steep and often impassable ridges intervening, and very 
 few lateral glens coming in from east to west. It was a 
 country difficult to guard, and Lord "Wellington did his best 
 with it. He spread his troops by divisions, and here and 
 there by brigades, among the heads of the great valleys, and 
 trusted to the vigilance of his officers and the bravery of 
 his men to do the rest. Neither failed in the hour of need ; 
 yet the season of watchfulness was to him one of great 
 anxiety, because the separate divisions and brigades could 
 come to the support of one another only by routes circuit- 
 ous and beset with danger. He had however no alterna- 
 tive. He did not consider it prudent to leave two strong 
 fortresses in his rear, and was, moreover, far from desirous 
 of precipitating an invasion of France. His correspondence 
 with the English Government on that subject is indeed very 
 interesting. It shows that this master of the art of war 
 was still the advocate of peace ; and that the pressure ap- 
 plied to force him into a rash enterprise was resisted till 
 the course of events justified its wisdom. And then he 
 yielded. 
 
 Sir Thomas Graham pushed on the siege of San Sebastian 
 with all the means at his disposal. The outworks were carried, 
 the main wall breached, and at midnight on the 25th of July 
 the assault was delivered. It failed, and most of the ammu- 
 nition being expended, as well as a good many guns and mor- 
 tars disabled, a pause became necessary. Meanwhile Marshal 
 Soult had not been idle, and on the same day which wit- 
 nessed the repulse of the English stormers at San Sebastian, 
 he began a series of daring movements with a view to relieve 
 both that place and Pampeluna. After skilfully threatening 
 the English left, he drew off" towards their right, and fell upon 
 it with great fury. Lord "Wellington had established his 
 head-quarters in Lazaca, where he was within reach of San 
 Sebastian, yet at a point from which he could hold the
 
 196 THE ENGLISH ATTACKED. [1813. 
 
 varioiis portions of the covering army well in hand. He 
 received intelligence of Soult's advance about one in the 
 morning, sprang out of bed, and ordered his horse. Whilst 
 the groom was bringing it round he "wrote an order for the 
 centre of the army to move towards the right, and the left 
 to follow the centre ; and the better to guard against the 
 risk of mishaps, he specified the valley of Lanz as the 
 route which the troops were to follow. This done, he mount- 
 ed, and set-oiF about two o'clock in the direction of Bis- 
 caret and Olaque, where the threatened divisions were quar- 
 tered. 
 
 The way Avas rough, and the ride fatiguing ; and the divi- 
 sions (the 3rd and 4th), attacked by superior numbers, had 
 begun ere he reached them to give ground. He became in 
 consequence anxious about the safety of other corps ; and on 
 the 27th rode forward as far as Saxiroren to reconnoitre. As 
 soon as he entered the village, he saw Clausel's division in full 
 march along the brow of the hill from Zabaldica. It became 
 manifest to him at the same instant, that the valley of Lanz 
 was no longer a safe line of communication for his own 
 troops ; and equally so, that unless stopped in time, they 
 would find themselves cut in half by the advancing column. 
 He was quite alone, except that Lord Fitzroy Somerset 
 rode with him. They had neither orderlies nor servants in 
 attendance ; so throwing his bridle to Lord Fitzroy, Lord 
 Wellington leaped from his horse, and on the parapet of the 
 bridge -wrote with a pencil the necessary orders. With this 
 scrap of paper Lord Fitzroy galloped to the rear ; while 
 Lord Wellington, waiting till the enemy's advance had well 
 nigh reached the further end of the bridge, sprang into the 
 saddle and rode away. He had a range of steep heights 
 before him, which he crossed ; over the valley at the further 
 side uprose another ridge, which he ascended, and being re- 
 cognized as he approached the summit by a Portuguese bat- 
 talion, the men raised a cry of satisfaction. It was at once 
 caught up by the 8rd and 4th divisions, which stood under 
 arms not far off, and they, delighted, as in moments of dan- 
 ger the troops always were, to find their commander near 
 them, rent the air with their shouts. Soult heard the
 
 1813.] BATTLE. 197 
 
 tumult, and perfectly imderstood what it meant. Almost 
 involuntarily he stopped the march of his troops ; and as- 
 cending a hill opposite to that on which Lord Wellington 
 stood, the two Generals gazed at one another. 
 
 The delay of an hour or two was all that Lord "Welling- 
 ton desired. His orders despatched by Lord Pitzroy Somer- 
 set had changed the line of march for the 6th division, which, 
 instead of pushing through the Lanz valley, turned aside, 
 and came in, by a wide detour, on the interval which separ- 
 ated Hill from the right of the army. Had Soult attacked 
 on the 27th he would have had only two divisions with Mo- 
 rillo's Spaniards to deal with. On the 28th three divisions 
 were in line. The reason which he himself assigns for the 
 delay is, that he expected every moment to be joined by 
 D'Erlon. But D'Erlon was still absent on the 28th, when 
 he did strike the blow. The French, superior in numbers, 
 behaved with the utmost gallantry ; the Allies, admirably 
 posted, met and repelled every attack. Lines and columns 
 were continually intermixed ; indeed. Lord "Wellington de- 
 scribes the encounter as " bludgeon work." At last the 
 struggle ended, leaving each party in possession, pretty 
 nearly, of the ground which it occupied ere the battle began. 
 And both armies slept beside their dead. 
 
 The dawn of the 29th found the hostile lines under arms, 
 but no fighting took place. It was not Lord Wellington's 
 policy to provoke a battle, and Soult held back from forcing 
 it on. They were equally looking for reinforcements. 
 Those for Lord Wellington ari'ived first, and in greater com- 
 parative strength. He had 30,000 Anglo-Portuguese in 
 hand before the sun Avent down ; whereas, on the pre- 
 vious day, he had carried less than 16,000 into action. An 
 hour or two later, D'Erlon arrived with 18,000 for Soult. 
 These, added to 18,000 — the remains of the 20,000 who had 
 fought on the previous day — still left him numerically 
 superior to his opponent. But the French were by this 
 time a good deal demoralized by constant reverses, and their 
 leader began to be in fear that provisions would fail him. 
 He determined, therefore, to extricate himself from the dif- 
 fiu-ulties of his situation, while at the same time he should
 
 198 FRENCH RETREAT, [If 13. 
 
 make an effort to raise the siege of San Sebastian. "With 
 this view he left a division to screen the movement, and 
 turned with the rest upon Hill. It was a bold but danger- 
 ous stroke. It presented the flank of the French army on 
 its march to Lord AVellington, who was neither slow to di- 
 vine the cause of the proceeding nor backward in taking 
 advantage of it. All the divisions were put in motion, and 
 through every valley which bore upon the route of the 
 French columns, fierce attacks were made. There was hard 
 fighting, which went entirely against the French. Foy, 
 with 8000 men, was separated from the main body. Reille 
 and Clausel, very roughly handled, gave way ; while Soult 
 himself, driven out of Sauroren, retreated upon San Esteban 
 by the gorge of Donna Maria. But even this expedieut 
 had been surmised, and Hill, uniting to himself Morillo's 
 Spaniards, pushed through gorges and defiles, and headed 
 the column. And now occurred one of those accidents 
 which lead so often in war to great failures as well as to 
 great successes. Lord Wellington had so timed the move- 
 ments of his corps, that he was on the point of surrounding 
 Soult with the mass of his army, when three wretched 
 stragglers, looking for plunder in the glen into which the 
 enemy had been crowded, fell into the hands of a patrol. 
 They were carried before Soult, told him whence they came, 
 and made him for the first time aware that the English were 
 all round him, except on one narrow opening ; and that even 
 this would in the course of a few hours be stopped. He lost 
 no time in breaking through. In liaste, and some confu- 
 sion, his troops threaded the interval, leaving all their bag- 
 gage behind. The guns he had previously sent away by 
 Eoncesvalles and St Jean Pied-de-Port. 
 
 From that date up to the 2nd of August, all the defiles 
 of the Pyrenees rang with a continual fire of musketry. 
 The French in full retreat, the English in hot pursuit, 
 scaled ci'ags, plunged down ravines, and passed torrents. 
 The loss to the fugitives was enormous. It amounted, 
 throughout tlie operations, to 15,000 men ; while on the 
 side of the Allies, 7300 were returned as killed, wounded, 
 and missinnf.
 
 IS13.J SAN SEBASTIAN TAKEN. 199 
 
 Having thus crippled Soult, Lord "Wellington resumed 
 the siege of San Sebastian, the details of which he committed, 
 as before, to Sir Thomas Graham. The arrival from England 
 of a fresh battering-train and a large supply of ammunition 
 greatly facilitated this operation. The trenches had not 
 been filled in, and the batteries were soon re-armed, so that 
 on the 26th of August a heavy fire was once more opened 
 iipon the place. Before it old walls and recently constructed 
 defences came down, and on the 31st the assault was de- 
 livered. A terrible combat ensued in the breaches, over 
 the parapets, through the streets of the town, amid blazing 
 houses and under the tumult of a thunder-storm. But this 
 time the assailants prevailed, and the Governor, retreating 
 to the castle which overhangs the city, held out there for a 
 few days longer, and then surrendered. 
 
 While the assault was going on, a column of French 
 troops, having passed the Bidassoa near Iruu, and by fords 
 higher up the stream, endeavoured to force their way through 
 the allied lines. Their main attack was directed against 
 some Spanish troops which occupied the heights of San 
 Martial ; but the advantages of position were so entirely 
 with the Spaniards, that after some hours spent in the hope- 
 less endeavour to clamber up precipices and pass througli 
 thick woods, the French abandoned the enterprise, and with- 
 drew again across the Bidassoa. There occurred however dur- 
 ing the combat aji incident which deserves notice, because of 
 the light which it throws upon the Duke's healthy principle 
 of action. He had always spoken in his public despatches 
 more favourably of the Spanish troops than they deserved, 
 and he did so for two reasons. First, he considered himself 
 bound to spare as much as possible the pride which enters 
 so largely into the national character of the Spaniard, and 
 next he believed, that to raise men generally in the scale of 
 moral worth, judicious encouragement goes further than 
 indiscriminate censure. On the present occasion the features 
 of the country which the Spaniards had been appointed to 
 hold were familiar to him. He knew that it was next to 
 impossible for the enemy to dislodge them by fair fighting ; 
 yet scarcely was the battle begun when the Spanish Generals
 
 200 HEIGHTS OF SAX MARTIAL. [1813. 
 
 sent, as usual, to entreat tliat English troops would come to 
 their support. The Duke took the bearers of this message 
 apart, reasoned with them, and pointed out that if he were 
 to act on this suggestion, an opportunity would be lost to their 
 countrymen of acquiring a good name, such as might never 
 occur again. " I can easily send you English troops ; and 
 if I see that you are hard pressed, they shall be forthcoming. 
 But you hold ground which women might keep against giants. 
 Go back, and tell General Freyre that I won't do him the 
 injustice to prevent his coming out of the affair of this day 
 as a conqueror." 
 
 The Spanish officers rode back to the heights. The 
 first English division stood to its arms in the valley below, 
 and by and by the 85th regiment coming up from San 
 Sebastian took ground also in support. But not one Eng- 
 lish soldier fired a musket that day. The Spaniards had all 
 the fighting to themselves, and the 31st of August became 
 in consequence to them one of the most glorious days in 
 their military history.
 
 201 
 
 CHAPTEE XXI. 
 
 INVASION OP FRANCE BATTLE OP THE NIVELLE. 
 
 There occurred, during an interval in these marches and 
 battles, a little incident, whicli was a good deal spoken about 
 at the time, and seems therefore to demand notice here. 
 Lord Wellington, after directing a Spanish column to move 
 \ip a glen towards a specific point, looked at his watch, and 
 observed to those about him that it would take the men so 
 much time to perform the journey. He added that he was 
 tired, and dismounting from his horse, wrapped himself in 
 his cloak, and went to sleep. A crowd of officers stood 
 round him, and among others some Spanish Generals, whose 
 astonishment at the coolness of their chief was expressed in 
 audible whispers. Tor the very crisis of the struggle was 
 impending, and the French being in greater strength upon 
 the spot, seemed to have the ball at their foot. Now, among 
 the ofiicers of the head-quarters' stafi", there were several 
 who had never approved the passage of the Ebro. These 
 began to speak their minds freely, and one, the bravest of 
 the brave, the gallant Colonel Gordon, exclaimed, " I always 
 thought it would come to this. I was sure we should make 
 a mess of it, if we got entangled among the Pyrenees, and 
 now see if my words don't come true." Lord AV^elliugton 
 happened to awake just as Gordon thus unburdened his 
 conscience. He sat up, and without addressing himself to 
 any one in particular, extended his right hand open, and 
 said, as he closed it, " I have them all in my hand, just like 
 that." Not another word was spoken. The Spaniards had
 
 202 morosALS FEo:\r the xorth. [isis. 
 
 reached the top of the glen ; Lord "Wellington and his attend- 
 ants remounted their horses, and the battle was renewed. 
 
 And now honours began to shower upon him afresh, and 
 so did sources of anxiety. The Prince Kegent sent him a 
 Field-Marshal's baton, in exchange, as he stated in an auto- 
 graph letter, for that of Marshal Jourdan. But the same 
 post which brought this communication brought likewise a 
 proposal from the so^'ereigns of Eussia, Austria, and Prussia, 
 that Lord AVellington should hand over his Peninsular army 
 to somebody else, and come and put himself at the head of 
 their troops. His answer was in keeping with his charac- 
 ter for simplicity and truth. If the Prince Regent gave 
 the order, he should obey. But he would never willingly 
 withdraw from a scene where everybody trusted him, and 
 place himself in a situation in which it was more than pro- 
 bable that others could do as well as he. In the same 
 wise spirit he put aside the request of these sovereigns, 
 backed as it was by the entreaties of his own Grovernment, 
 to precipitate an invasion of Prance. " My future oper- 
 ations," he wrote in reply, " will depend a good deal upon 
 what passes in the North of Europe ; and if operations 
 should recommence there, upon the strength and nature of 
 the reinforcements which the enemy shall get in our front." 
 For at the very time when he was urged to go forward, the 
 northern powers had agreed to an armistice, and were carry- 
 ing on negotiations with Napoleon. " Consider," he says 
 in a private letter to Lord William Bentinck, " what they 
 want me to do. To invade Prance where everybody is a 
 soldier, where the whole population is armed and organized 
 under persons not, as in other countries, inexperienced in 
 arms, but men who in the coiirse of the last 25 years, in 
 which Prance has been engaged with all Europe, must, the 
 majority of them at least, have served somewhere." But 
 this was not all. The army of which he was at the head, 
 though superior to what it had been a year or two pre- 
 viously, was still unfit in all its parts to be depended upon. 
 By judiciously intermixing inferior with superior troops he 
 rendered the whole pliable. But this was not done, except 
 at the cost of inconveniences which would be aggravated a
 
 1813.] SOURCES OF ANXIETY. 203 
 
 thousand-fold the moment he passed the frontier. For then 
 the Spaniards, whom their own Grovernment habitually neg- 
 lected while at home, would be left to starve, or thrown on 
 the British commissariat. He well describes this state of 
 things in a letter to Lord William Bentinck, dated from 
 Lazaca on the 9th of August : " The system," he says, " is 
 not perfect ; but what is perfect with such instruments and 
 such defective means ? It would be much more easy and 
 convenient for me, and for the British army, to join all the 
 Spaniards into one corps, all the British into another, and 
 all the Portuguese into a third. That would be the most 
 simple arrangement ; but one fine moi'ning I should find 
 both Spaniards and Portuguese surprised and defeated, and 
 the British would cut but a poor figure alone." 
 
 One more source of anxiety presented itself at this time, 
 which deserves, at least, passing notice. Napoleon, it was 
 rumoured, had opened a negotiation for a separate peace 
 with Spain, and undertook to restore Ferdinand, on condi- 
 tion that all the country between the Pyrenees and the 
 Ebro should be annexed to Prance. There was reason to 
 believe that Ferdinand, in his abject anxiety to reign, was 
 willing to accede to these terms ; and a party in the Cortes 
 seemed not to be averse to them. Lord Wellington wrote 
 strongly against the arrangement, both to his brother at 
 Cadiz, and to the Grovernment at home. But the project 
 seemed to have been, at least, premature. The time was 
 not yet come for Napoleon to concede even so much, for 
 the sake of peace ; though a constant whisper of treason, 
 falling in with so many overt acts of ill-will, could not but 
 occasion anxiety at head-quarters. All these doubts, and 
 many more which I need not stop to particularize, weighed 
 upon the mind of the English G-eneral, and rendered him 
 less anxious than he might have otherwise been to push the 
 war for the present beyond the Spanish border. But the 
 tide had set in strong against the recent masters of tlie 
 Continent, and Lord Wellington acknoAvledged its influence. 
 War was renewed in the North of Europe, and in the South 
 the English, after fortifying the mouths of the passes which 
 they were about to leave behind, crossed the Bidassoa.
 
 204 EATTLE OF THE NIYELLE. [ISIS. 
 
 Meanwhile Soult's position on the further bank of that 
 stream "was strong, but like all positions in mountain-coun- 
 tries, it had its weak points. He regarded it, therefore, as a 
 mere line of resistance, and carefully fortified two other lines, 
 one in front of the Nivelle, the other along the A dour and 
 about Bayonne. On the 7th of October he was attacked 
 and driven back upon his second line. Pampeluna, however, 
 still held out, and the news from Dresden proved unsatis- 
 factory ; two circumstances which operated in restraining 
 Lord Wellington from going forward. He halted, there- 
 fore, on the ground which he had won, and for well-nigh a 
 month the war languished. By and by, however, came 
 tidings of the battle of Leipsic, and of the retreat of Napo- 
 leon across the Khine. The surrender of Pampeluna fol- 
 lowed soon afterwards, and early in November preparations 
 were made for trying once more the fortune of battle. 
 
 The weather had been wet and blustering duriiag the 
 latter days of October and the beginning of November. All 
 the lanes and by-paths in the department of the Lower 
 Pyrenees were rendered thereby impassable, so that some 
 portion at least of the delay, which thoughtless men won- 
 dered at. was owing to the impossibility of moving guns 
 and even men through a sea of mud. At last the storm 
 ceased, and an hour before dawn on the 10th the troops 
 stood to their arms. 
 
 The position which Lord "Wellington was about to attack 
 resembled in some of its features his own famous lines of 
 Torres Vedras. It consisted of a series of redoubts and 
 open works extending from the sea on one flank, well-nigh 
 to the river Nive on the other. The ground thus protected 
 being on the left undulating rather than hilly, rose towards 
 the right into lofty eminences, each of which commanded 
 the valleys on either side, and was strongly fortified. The 
 weakest point of all was in the centre, where the village of 
 Sarre protruded beyond the proper line, standing however 
 so awkwardly towards the adjacent hills that it could not be 
 left unguarded. Lord AV^elliugton saw where the chink in 
 his adversary's armour lay, and thrust at it. His plan of 
 operations was this. He aimed at breaking through the
 
 1813.] UROGXE CAREIED. 2Co 
 
 Prencla centre, iu which if he could succeed, he shoukl be 
 able to march upon Bayonne and interpose himself between 
 that city and one if not both of the separated portions of 
 the beaten army. But in order to accomplish this, it was 
 necessary to engage the enemy's attention at all points 
 along tlieir line. He attacked, therefore, in four separate 
 columns. Hill on the extreme right, with the 2nd and 6th 
 divisions, Hamilton's Portuguese brigade, Murillo's Span- 
 iards, and a due proportion of artillery, was directed to 
 move against Clausel's position in rear of Ainhoe. Beres- 
 ford, with the 3rd, 4th, and 7th divisions, fell upon the re- 
 doubts in front of Sarre, and upon Sarre itself; while Alten, 
 with the light division, and Longa's Spaniards, attacked 
 the little Rhune, and co-operated with Griron in assaulting 
 the heights behind Sarre. These several movements were 
 supported by a body of cavalry, under Sir Stapleton Cotton, 
 and by four batteries of cannon, as well as by Freyre's Span- 
 iards, who, advancing from Mandale towards Ascain, would 
 be able to hold in check any reinforcements which might 
 endeavour to make their way from the right to the centre. 
 Finally, Sir John Hope, who had succeeded Sir Thomas 
 Graham in command of the left column, was to drive in the 
 posts in front of the Lower Nivelle, to carry the redoubts 
 above Urogne, to establish himself on the heights facing 
 Siboure, and to act from thence as circumstances might di- 
 rect. His force consisted of the 1st and 5th divisions, of 
 the brigades of Wilson, Bradford, and Aylmer, of Vande- 
 leur's light dragoons, the 12th and 16th, and of the heavy 
 Grerman cavalry. 
 
 In spite of narrow defiles and broken roads, the attacks 
 thus skilfully arranged, succeeded in every quarter. On the 
 right, and in the centre, redoubts and entrenchments were 
 carried with little comparative loss. On the left, Urogne 
 being entered at the double, a continued skirmish was kept 
 up throughout the day, in the meadows beyond, and along 
 the base of the hills which look down upon them. Tet so 
 much more serious than had been anticipated were the ob- 
 stacles presented by the face of the country, that daylight 
 failed before full advantao:e coidd be taken of the successes
 
 206 SOULT EETREATS. [1813 
 
 thus achieved. Soult, on the other hand, was not slow in 
 perceiving that liis lines had ceased to be tenable. He 
 withdrew from such of the works as he still held when 
 darkness set in, and before day-break on the 11th, was 
 across the Nivelle, with his right on the sea at Bidard, and 
 his left at St Barbe. 
 
 The battle of the Nivelle cost the Allies, in killed, 
 wounded, and missing, 2091; officers and men. The loss to 
 the French was much more severe ; it amounted to 42G5, in- 
 cluding 1400 prisoners. They left, besides, in the hands of 
 the victors, fifty-one pieces of cannon, six ammunition wag- 
 gons, and all their magazines at St Jean de Luz and 
 Espalette. Yet their retreat was conducted in excellent 
 order. They broke down the bridges on the Nivelle, and 
 their rear made a show of receiving a second action at Bi- 
 dard. But the advance of the Allies was too formidable for 
 them. As soon as light came in, Hope moved from Urogne, 
 and passed the Nivelle by a ford, above the broken bridge 
 at St Jean de Luz. Beresford and Hill threatened the 
 enemy simultaneously in the centre and on the right. Soult 
 again shifted his ground. He fell back towards Bayonne, 
 in the entrenched camp before which he established himself, 
 having one post at Anglette, on the great Madrid road, and 
 others to the right and left of it, from the Adour to the 
 Nive. 
 
 Before he crossed the Bidassoa, Lord "Wellington had, in 
 general orders, cautioned his troops against offering violence 
 to the persons and property of the French people. It was 
 the only answer which he condescended to make to a shower 
 of proclamations, which, coming from the other side, 
 threatened the Allies with war to the knife in the event of 
 their polluting the soil of France with their presence. 
 Lord Wellington's announcement, unlike that of Marshal 
 Soult, was something more than a mere bit of gasconnade. 
 He meant what he said ; and during the progress of the 
 battle of the Nivelle itself, found an opportunity of show- 
 ing how entirely he was in earnest. It happened that in 
 riding from one rising ground to another, he encountered in 
 a valley a French peasant, whom, with a flock of twenty or
 
 1813.] THE FEEXCH SHEPHERD. 207 
 
 thirty sheep, a troop of English cavalry had arrested. 
 " What are you doing with that man ? " he demanded of the 
 officer commanding the troop. " I have stopped him from 
 driving his sheep into Bayonne, my Lord." " And who 
 told you to do so ?" Then turning to the peasant, he said in 
 French, " You want to drive your sheep to Bayonne. I 
 can't at present give you an escort up to the gates, but I 
 can send you as far as your own people." " Tou will be 
 good enough, sir," he continued, addressing himself to the 
 officer, " to see this man and his sheep safe through our 
 lines, and take care that no harm befalls him." The peasant 
 was therefore conducted to the utmost verge of the English 
 line of skirmishers, and there set adi'ift. Whether he 
 fared as well among the French soldiers, I never heard ; 
 but it is pleasant to be able to record half a century after 
 the event that not even the excitement of a battle in its 
 progress caused the English Greneral or his troops to forget 
 what was due to the claims of humanity. 
 
 The weather, which had continued fine throughout the 
 10th, broke again on the 11th, and for several days the rain 
 fell in torrents. Lord Wellington found himself constrained 
 in consequence to halt, and by and by, as the only chance of 
 preserving the health of his troops, to distribute them among 
 the towns and villages near. His anxiety under these eii'- 
 cumstances to save the people of the country from outrage, 
 and to induce them to live in their own houses with the 
 men whom he quartered upon them, was extreme. He in- 
 vited aU local magistrates to come to him, and assured 
 them of protection. He caused hand-bills to be printed, 
 and posted in the streets and against cottage walls, charging 
 the inhabitants to arrest and bring before the nearest 
 general officer any persons from whom they might suifer 
 wrong ; and he hanged upon the spot several soldiers, both 
 English and Portuguese, who were taken in the act of ma- 
 rauding. With English and Portuguese this wise severity 
 produced the desired effect. They understood the motives 
 of their chief, and submitted to a discipline which was as 
 politic as it was merciful. Not so the Spaniards. They 
 asserted their right to do in Prance what Prench armies
 
 208 THE FREXCn PEOPLE PROTECTED. [1813. 
 
 had done in Spain ; and their Generals had the folly to re- 
 monstrate against the measures taken to restrain them. " I 
 did not come into France," wrote Lord "Wellington to 
 General Fi'eyre, " to plunder. I have not been the means of 
 killing and Avounding thousands of officers and soldiers in 
 order that the survivors should pillage the French. On the 
 contrary, it is my duty, and the duty of us all, to prevent 
 pillage, particularly if we wish that oixr armies should sub- 
 sist upon the resources of the country." 
 
 Lord AVellington's expostulations failing to have any effect 
 upon the Spanish officers, he at once dispensed with their 
 services. The whole Spanish army, amounting to 20,000 
 men at least, was sent back across the Bidassoa. It was a 
 strong measure, but he had well weighed the consequences 
 before adopting it. " I must tell your Lordship," he wrote 
 to Lord Bathurst on the 21st of November, " that our suc- 
 cess and everything depends upon our moderation and jus- 
 tice, and upon the good conduct and discipline of our troops. 
 Hitherto these have behaved well, and there appears a new 
 spirit among the officers, which I hope will continue, to 
 keep the troops in order. But I despair of the Spaniards. 
 They are in so miserable a state that it is really hardly fair 
 to expect that they will refrain from plundering a beautiful 
 country into which they enter as conquerors, particularly 
 adverting to the miseries which their own country has suf- 
 fered from the invaders. I cannot, therefore, venture to 
 bring them back into France unless I can feed and pay 
 them. If I could but bring forward 20,000 good Spaniards 
 paid and fed, I should have Bayonne. If I could bring 
 forward 40,000, I don't know where I should stop. Now I 
 have both the 20,000 and the 40,000 at my command upon 
 this frontier, but I cannot venture to bring forward any for 
 want of means of paying and supplying them." 
 
 This was the last of his proceedings in 1813, for a time. 
 The bad weather continued intermittingly. A temporary 
 halt Avas converted into an enduring pause ; and the troops, 
 conceiving that they had entered into winter quartei's, began 
 to make themselves at home.
 
 209 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 BATTLE OP THE NIVE WINTER QUARTERS. 
 
 Before I endeavour to give some account of life as it 
 went ou in winter quarters fifty years ago, it may not be 
 amiss if, in as few words as possible, I tell the story liere of 
 tbe military operations which broke in upon the repose of 
 the troops a month subsequently to the battle of Nivelle. 
 
 Constrained, as I have just shown, by a continuance of bad 
 weather, Lord Wellington had quartered his people over a 
 long line of country, measuring perhaps nine or ten miles 
 from left to right, almost on the spots where each corps and 
 division had halted. Head-quarters with the Guards were 
 Avell disposed of in St Jean de Luz. The 5th division, with 
 Lord Aylmer's brigade, filled all the hamlets and villages 
 between that town and Bidard. The light division lay to 
 the right of these in Arcanguez ; and others succeeded, 
 wending further and further to the right till they touched 
 the river Nive. Thus all the country south as well as 
 north of the Adour, which was remarkably fertile and rich 
 in corn and cattle, remained, as far as the right bank of the 
 Nive, in the hands of the enemy ; who were able, likewise, 
 to communicate through that district with certain posts 
 which they still held in rear of the English right among the 
 Lower Pyrenees. Now such a state of things was not 
 agreeable to Lord Wellington, and on the 9th of December 
 he moved out to put an end to it. While his right crossed 
 the Nive, and closed upon the entrenched camp and the 
 Adour, his centre and left made demonstrations, of which 
 
 U
 
 210 BATTLE. [1813. 
 
 the sole object was to distract the enemy's attention, and to 
 hinder them from falling on Hill with overwhelming num- 
 bers while cumbered with the passage of the Nive. 
 
 The afiair of the 9th of December was nowhere serious. 
 The enemy fell back, skirmishing, as the English advanced, 
 and long before dark all was accomplished which Lord 
 AVellington had in view. Hill, with the right column, 
 16,000 strong, commanded the rich country between the 
 Adour and the Nive, and the other columns returned to 
 sleep in their old quarters. But Soult was far from being 
 satisfied with what had occurred, and finding his opponent 
 astride of a deep river, he endeavoured to strike him in de- 
 tail. With this view he carried the great bulk of his peo- 
 ple in the night of the 9th from that portion of the en- 
 trenched camp which faced Hill, and early in the morning 
 of the 10th fell with extreme violence upon the left of the 
 English army. The whole of that day, throughout the 11th, 
 and again on the 12th, the battle raged. It was fought 
 partly upon a plateau which intervenes between the sea and 
 Arcanguez, partly along the ridges and slopes in which that 
 plateau ends, and partly in and about the village of Arcan- 
 guez. The troops on both sides slept night after niglit 
 upon their arms, so near the one line to the other, that the 
 voices of men conversing round a Ereuch camp fii'e, and 
 sometimes their words, could be overheard and understood 
 by men sitting round their camp fire in the English lines. 
 
 The Erench fought well, but they made no progress. The 
 ground which they gained on the morning of the 10th was 
 wrested from them in the afternoon of the same day ; and 
 they never again recovered it. The English did not advance 
 beyond their own plateau, because their battle was entirely 
 a defensive one ; and so, when the enemy, finding themselves 
 foiled in their design, withdrew after dark on the 12th, and 
 hurried off to attack Sir liowland Hill, no attempt was 
 made to push forward and surprise that portion of the 
 entrenched camp which lay near Anglette. The attack upon 
 Sir Rowland Hill failed as signally as the attack upon Sir 
 John Hope, and a loss to the assailants of 10,000 men, in
 
 1813.] LORD WELLINGTON AND SOULT. 211 
 
 killed and •wounded and prisoners, was all tliat Sonlt took by 
 his motion. 
 
 It was during the progress of this action that there 
 occurred that meeting, so to speak, between Lord "Welling- 
 ton and Marshal Soult, of which in another work I have 
 made mention. There lay to the English right of a wood 
 which screened the plateau of Biaritz, a narrow valley, with 
 steep but low hills on either side. One of these ridges was held 
 by French troops, while along the summit of the other, but 
 thrown back so as to leave room for the enemy, should they 
 take courage to ascend, stood the 85th regiment in line. 
 The skirmishers on both sides were engaged in the narrow 
 glen between ; and the main bodies rested on their arms. 
 
 About noon, or a little later, a group of horsemen suddenly 
 arrived on the French ridge. There could be no doubt as to 
 their quality. It was a general officer of high rank, with a 
 numerous staff, who halted opposite to the 85th, well-nigh 
 within long musket range, and immediately dismounted. He 
 was a large man, and lame ; and he leaned his telescope on the 
 saddle, and closely examined the English position. While 
 the attention of the officers of the 85th was turned towards 
 the group, a clatter of horses' hoofs arose behind them ; and 
 Lord "Wellington, also numerously attended, rode up. His 
 glass was instantly pointed towards the opposite group, and 
 he exclaimed aloud, " That's Soult, I recollect him perfectly. 
 I saw him before at Sauroren." For three minutes, more or 
 less, the two chiefs seemed to watch one another ; then first 
 one and then another French oiHcer, and finally the whole caval- 
 cade, put their horses in motion, and went away at a sharp 
 pace in the direction of the English right. " That's it, is 
 it ? " cried Lord "Wellington ; and then addressing himself 
 to the 85th, he said, " Now, lads, you must keep your ground ; 
 there's nothing behind you ; " after which he faced about, and 
 set off at a gallop, in the same direction which the French 
 officers had taken. Nor were the results of these reconnais- 
 sances slow to appear. A furious fire of musketry and cannon 
 told that Arcanguez was assailed. A wild hurrah, from the op- 
 posite ridge, served as a prelude to a rush, and in ten minutes
 
 212 HIS CHEERFUL GREETING. [1813. 
 
 the battle raged again witli extreme violence. But no great 
 while elapsed ere the woods in rear of both English posts 
 were seen to glitter with the flash of a winter's sun on the 
 bayonets of troops arriving. Soult's object was defeated, 
 and the dead and wounded marked where they lay the route 
 by which his troops had come on, and had again retreated. 
 
 I saw Lord AVellington again on the morning of the 13th, 
 after the French finally withdrew from the combat. He was 
 riding leisurely, from the right to the left of his o^vn line, 
 and stopped for a moment to converse with Colonel Thornton 
 as he passed. All crowded round to listen, and as he was 
 in excellent spirits, he greeted everybody very courteously. 
 " They got an awful licking," were his words ; " I don't 
 think I ever saw so many dead crowded into such a narrow 
 space. Hdl must have disposed of 5000 of them, at the least." 
 And then he rode away. 
 
 For two or three days longer, in order, no doubt, to make 
 all secure, the troops remained in line of battle. They then 
 broke up, and filed ofi", division by division, brigade by bri- 
 gade, and regiment by regiment, to such cantonments as had 
 been prepared for them. The outposts were taken by bat- 
 talions in succession, one of each brigade relieving the other 
 at intervals of three days. These, except the pickets, slept 
 under canvas three nights, and on the morning of the 4th day 
 made over the tents and their responsibility to their success- 
 ors. It is not, however, of them nor of the adventures which 
 befeU them that I need speak. My business lies rather with 
 what went on in the rear of the outposts, where Lord Wel- 
 lington and the head-quarters of the army had established 
 themselves. 
 
 St Jean de Liiz is, or rather was half a century ago, a town 
 of perhaps 10,000 or 12,000 inliabitants ; with its Mairie, its 
 Hotel de Ville, its churches, its theatre, its square, or place 
 d'armes, and its streets, some more, some less imposing, ac- 
 cording to the style of the houses which lined it. The 
 river Nivelle runs through the town, ending in a harbour 
 and a quay, and is spanned by a bridge, which the French 
 in their retreat had broken down, but which the English 
 engineers speedily repaired. Almost all the inhabitants fled
 
 1813.] LOED WELLINGTON'S STAFF. 213 
 
 when the English first entered ; but the fame of Lord "Wel- 
 lington's justice soon got abroad, and long before the 9th of 
 December, not a few, including the Mayor and municipality, 
 had returned. Nothing could be more satisfactory than the 
 terms on which those functionaries and the people in general 
 lived with the invaders. Not only was no violence offered 
 to them, but the Mayor was a frequent guest at Lord "Wel- 
 lington's table ; and the civil government of the town was 
 carried on in his name, and according to the laws which he 
 was accustomed to administer. 
 
 Three English Generals, besides Lord Wellington, occu- 
 pied houses in St Jean de Luz. Sir John Hope, command- 
 ing the left column, who had been severely wounded in the 
 battle of the Nive, was one of those, and the G-enerals 
 commanding the 1st and 5th divisions were the other two. 
 All dispensed their hospitalities freely ; but the Marquis's 
 parties were, as may be supposed, the most sought after. In 
 the first place, he kept by far the best table. It had not 
 been always so ; indeed, during the earlier campaigns, the 
 Duke seemed to be indifierent to this matter, almost to a 
 fault ; but latterly he took a different view of things. Not 
 fewer than three cooks attended him ; one a Frenchman, 
 one an Englishman, one a Spaniard ; and among them they 
 certainly contrived to turn out dinners of which no connois- 
 seur need have been ashamed. In the next place, his staff", 
 whatever their merits as soldiers might have been, consisted 
 of gentlemen, who lived with one another on the most af- 
 fectionate terms, and were well-bred and kind to all who 
 approached them. They had many school-boy tricks ; among 
 others, that of giving nick-names, at which nobody took 
 offence. " Where is Slender Billy ? " said Lord Eitzroy 
 Somerset one day, looking round the table, and apparently 
 missing somebody. " Here I am, Eitzroy," replied the 
 Prince of Orange, "what do you want?" And so it was 
 with Lord March, so with Lord Eitzroy, so with the Duke 
 himself, though in this last instance it must be confessed the 
 soubriquet was never applied, except in the absence of the 
 object of it. Yet even when the Duke was present, these 
 young men seldom scrupled to say and do whatever occurred
 
 214 HIS PARTIES. [1813. 
 
 to them : unless indeed a point of duty were concerned, and 
 then he tolerated nothing out of the straight line of obedi- 
 ence. No doubt, conversation at the table of the Commander 
 of the forces laboured, like conversation at the table of the 
 Sovereign, under some restraints. All vrho sat there, that is 
 to say, ordinary guests, waited till the cue was given, and 
 were then content for the most part to follow, not to origin- 
 ate, discussion. Lord "Wellington himself, on the contrary, 
 seemed to give free utterance to whatever thought happened 
 to pass through his mind. Whether home politics, or the 
 affairs of Europe, or the state and prospects of his own 
 army took his attention, out came his opinions with as much 
 freedom as if he were discussing a stage-play or events in 
 history. 
 
 " We were often amazed to hear you speak so freely, espe- 
 cially when the Mayor of Biaritz, or that other mysterious 
 person, happened to be of the party." 
 
 " Oh, you took them for spies, I siippose, and thought that 
 I ought to be very guarded before them. But why should I ? 
 It was a matter of indifference to me what they saw or 
 heard. I got a good deal of information out of them which 
 was useful to me. I didn't care what information they car- 
 ried back to Soult, because I knew it would be of no use to 
 him." 
 
 " Tou think, then, that they were double spies ? " 
 
 " I am not quite prepared to say that of the Biaritz man, 
 but about the other I never entertained a doubt. I knew 
 that he was in Soult's pay as well as in mine. But I took 
 care to let him know that I had it always in my power to 
 test the intelligence which he brought me ; and he soon 
 ceased to bring any that was not true. The fact is, that 
 spies abound in every camp. I was aware of many in mine, 
 but as to hanging them, that never entered into my head. 
 If I could not manage at all times to render their tittle- 
 tattle worthless to the enemy, I should have been unfit to 
 command an army." 
 
 I have spoken of Lord Wellington's hunting days. His 
 dress, when he took the field, was that of the Salisbury 
 Hunt, viz., a sky-blue coat, black cap, and buckskin breeches.
 
 1813.] ST JEAN DE LUZ. 215 
 
 On ordinary occasions he wore a common blue frock, 
 and from four to six in the afternoon might be seen so 
 arrayed, and with a round hat on his head, taking his exer- 
 cise on what was the mall, or fashionable promenade, the 
 quay. For thither, as regularly as men now ride or drive 
 or walk of an afternoon in Hyde Park, Generals, staff- 
 officers, and officers of regiments — with as many ladies, 
 English and Prench and Spanish, as the town contained, 
 would repair ; to inhale the sea-breezes when the weather was 
 fine, and to greet one another as they passed and re-passed 
 in groups. 
 
 Nor was the quay without points of interest independ- 
 ently of that which it derived from the uses to which it was 
 now turned. Day by day vessels came in laden with arti- 
 cles of luxury, such as tea, sugar, wine, and hams from Eng- 
 land, as well as with barley and hay for the horses, and, when 
 the need was great, with clothing for the men. As these 
 arrived, sometimes singly, sometimes in little squadrons, 
 they were guided to their berths by pilots, till in the end the 
 little harbour became completely crammed ; and room for 
 fresh arrivals could be made only by sending to sea, at short 
 notice, all which had discharged their cargoes. 
 
 The people of the place used to speak in admiration of 
 this enormous increase to their commerce. While their own 
 countrymen occupied the town, not a mast, except that of a 
 chasse-maree, or coasting schooner, ever entered the port. 
 Now it was crowded. But if they gained in this respect, 
 they suffered undeniable loss in another. Their streets, 
 which used to swarm with gay uniforms, now echoed to the 
 tramp of long strings of mules, laden with stores, and driven 
 by Spanish muleteers, not always very scrupulous in treat- 
 ing foot-passengers with decency ; or else droves of bullocks, 
 going on to slaughter, thronged them ; or carts, or waggons, 
 or guns, splashed through them. As to the shops, compara- 
 tively few were re-opened ; and of these not one presented 
 at the windows specimens of articles which might tempt to 
 acts of plunder. The truth is that the French tradespeople, 
 unlike the French peasants, never could bring themselves to 
 trust, absolutely, to the honour of the invaders. As many
 
 216 THE MAYOR'S BALL. [1813 
 
 as returned to their homes, were bound to feel secure, so far 
 as their persons were concerned ; but they did not care to 
 open a traffic, except in liquors and other articles such as 
 soldiers were likely to purchase and consume on the spot. 
 
 Lord Wellington was anxious to conciliate the people by 
 contributing to their amusements as well as by protecting 
 their persons. With this view he caused the bands of regi- 
 ments within reach, to play from time to time in the 
 Champs de Mars, and he encouraged his young men to get 
 up balls. There was considerable difficulty at first in ac- 
 complishing the latter object. On consulting with the Mayor 
 it was found that very few ladies, and not many respectable 
 shopkeepers' daughters, could be produced, and of English ladies 
 only six were forthcoming. Now it would not do for the 
 Commander of the forces to throw open his own salons, and the 
 result to be a failure. The Mayor, therefore, undertook to 
 play the part of host, and a dollar a-piece was charged as the 
 price of admission, for gentlemen only. I cannot say that 
 the success was great. About 30 elderly, and half as many 
 young French ladies, made their appearance, each escorted 
 by her maid, who carried a lantern before her ; and our six 
 fair country-women chimed in, though not very cordially. 
 Of gentlemen, all arrayed in brilliant uniforms, not fewer 
 than 200 were present ; and among the rest the Marquis 
 himself. The music was good, and the dancing indifferent. 
 Only one out of the six Euglishwomeu would or could 
 waltz, and cotillions and country-dances flagged for lack 
 of partners. One French beau volunteered a hornpipe, 
 through which he got wdth great dexterity. Of the English 
 beaux, the great bulk stood apart or drank freely, and then 
 began to romp. Lord Wellington did not dance, and re- 
 tired soon after midnight. On the whole the Mayor's ball 
 was pronounced to be a failure. 
 
 Though the Mayor's ball did not succeed, the ball as an 
 institution was far from passing into disrepute. Others 
 followed, which though less select, perhaps, so far as the 
 ladies were concerned, went off better. Theatricals were 
 also attempted, but they lacked the spirit of those at Gui- 
 ualdo and Frenada ; for the Light Division were the great
 
 1813.] HIS LABOTJE. 217 
 
 actors of the army, and they lay at a distance from St Jean de 
 Luz. On the whole, however, the winter passed very agree- 
 ably. Yet to Lord "Wellington it was a season of ceaseless 
 labour. If he but omitted for a single day to carry on his 
 correspondence, letters accumulated to such an extent as 
 would have deterred any other man from facing them. If, 
 as more than once happened, he was detained from home for 
 two or three days in succession, the arrears became frightful. 
 On one of these occasions, after some movements on the 
 part of the IVench had called him suddenly away, and kept 
 him three days with Lord Hill, the Judge Advocate- General 
 entered his room with a bundle of papers, and saw him 
 seated in front of a table covered with immense piles of un- 
 opened letters, " What have you got ? " demanded the 
 Marquis, looking up. " Only some cases for your Lordship 
 to consider, and a few sentences to confirm." " Take them 
 away," cried the Marquis, raising his hand, and bringing it 
 before his eyes, " Take them away, and put them where 
 you will, only don't expect me to look at them now." 
 
 It was in the course of this winter that the Bourbons 
 and their partisans began to entertain hopes of that restor- 
 ation which ultimately took place. The first of the emigres 
 who showed himself at head-quarters was the Comte de 
 Grammont — a gentleman in manners and appearance, and 
 the representative of a long line of lauded proprietors in this 
 part of the country. Everybody treated him with respect, 
 and he was a constant guest at Lord "Wellington's table. 
 By and by came the Due d'Angouleme, not openly avowed, 
 but under an assumed name, and it is fair to add that 
 neither by his manners nor by his appearance was he so suc- 
 cessful in conciliating public opinion as the Comte de Gram- 
 mont. A short, rather mean-looking man, with a strongly- 
 marked Bourbon cast of countenance, and endless grimaces, 
 as he entered or quitted a room, he often put the gravity of 
 Lord Wellington's stafi" and guests sorely to the test. It 
 was the fashion in the Marquis's household to call all the 
 strangers who came to head-quarters. Tigers ; and the Due 
 d'Angouleme got at once the soubriquet of "the Eoyal 
 Tiger."
 
 218 THE BOURBONS. [1813. 
 
 The Due d'Angouleme added by his presence not a little 
 to Lord Wellington's embarrassments. There was, in point 
 of fact, no Bourbon party in the Basque provinces of Prance, 
 in those days. All men were sick of the empire, with its 
 desolating wars and cruel taxation, but the Bourbons were 
 as much forgotten, except by a few old people, as if they 
 had never reigned. It was not easy to convince them or 
 their followers of that fact, far less to reconcile them to 
 the possible conclusion of a peace which should not provide 
 for their return to power. Now, Lord AVellington, though 
 always courteous and delicate before the Due d'Angouleme, 
 would never consent to have it appear that he was fighting 
 for the restoration of an exiled family. He contemplated 
 to the last the probability of coming to terms with Napo- 
 leon ; and in his correspondence with the Government at 
 home, spoke of the arrangement as in itself not to be con- 
 demned. " K we can persuade Buonaparte to be moderate, 
 he is perhaps the best ruler of France that we could get." 
 The Due d'Angouleme, on the other hand, urged an imme- 
 diate proclamation of Louis the XVIII. ; and because of his 
 opposition to so wild a scheme, both now and at a subsequent 
 period, the Duke incurred, and never afterwards lost, the 
 personal dislike of the whole Bourbon family. 
 
 "While the Boui'bons thus advocated a policy purely self- 
 ish, the English Government, on the suggestion of the Em- 
 peror of Russia, proposed to Lord Wellington a choice of 
 plans, either to transfer himself and the British portion of 
 his army to the Netherlands, leaving the war in the South 
 to be carried on by the Spaniards and Portuguese ; or, if 
 that were considered unadvisable, to push forward in the 
 depth of winter, and operate thereby a strong diversion in 
 favour of the Allies. His answer would be imperfectly given 
 except in his own words. Writing on the 21st of December, 
 1813, to Lord Bathurst, he says, " In military operations 
 there are some things which cannot be done : one of these 
 is, to move troops in this country during, or immediately 
 after, a violent fall of rain. I believe I shall lose many 
 more men than I shall ever replace by putting my troops in 
 camp in this bad weather j but I should be guilty of a use-
 
 1813.] LETTER TO LOED BATHIJRST. 219 
 
 less waste of men, if I were to attempt an operation during 
 the violent falls of rain which we have here. Our operations, 
 then, must necessarily be slow ; but they shall not be dis- 
 contuiued. In regard to the scene of the operations of the 
 army, it is a question for the Grovernment, and not for me. 
 By having kept in the field about 30,000 men in the Penin- 
 sula, the British Government have now, for five years, given 
 employment to 200,000 French troops, of the best Napoleon 
 had, as it is ridiculous to suppose that either the Spaniards 
 or Portuguese could have resisted for a moment if the British 
 force had been withdrawn. The enemy now employed 
 against us cannot be less than 100,000 men ; indeed more 
 including garrisons, and I see in the French newspapers, 
 that orders have been given for the formation at Bourdeaux 
 of an army of reserve of 100,000 men. Is there any one 
 weak enough to suppose that one third of the numbers first 
 mentioned would be employed against the Spaniards and 
 Portuguese, if we were withdrawn ? The other observation 
 which I have to submit is, that in a war in which every day 
 oifers a crisis, the results of which may afiect the world for ' 
 ages, the change of the scene of the operations of the British 
 army would put that army entirely hors de comhat for four 
 months at least, even if the new scene were Holland ; and 
 they would not then be such a machine as this army is. 
 Your Lordship, however, very reasonably asks what objects 
 we propose to ourselves here, which are to induce Napoleon 
 to make peace ? I am now in a commanding situation on 
 the most vulnerable frontier of France, probably the only 
 vulnerable frontier. If I could put 20,000 Spaniards into 
 the field, which I could do if I had money, and was pro- 
 perly supported by the fleet, I must have the only fortress 
 there is on this frontier, if it can be called a fortress, and 
 that m. a very short space of time. If I could put 40,000 
 Spaniards into the field, I should probably have my posts 
 on the Garonne. Does any man suppose that Napoleon 
 would not feel an army in such a position, more than he 
 would feel 30,000 or 40,000 British troops, laying siege to 
 one of his fortresses in Holland ? If it be only the re- 
 sources of men and money of which he will be deprived, and
 
 220 CONVINCES THE GOVERNMENT. [1813. 
 
 the reputation he will lose by our being in this position, it 
 will do ten times more to procure peace than ten armies on 
 the side of Flanders." 
 
 Arguments such as these, put with the force of Lord 
 Wellington's high authority, could not be controverted. The 
 English Grovernment left liim to move when he judged that 
 the proper time had come. It abandoned also the wild 
 scheme of transferring him and his troops to Flanders ; 
 but it overlooked his indirect entreaty for means to bring 
 forward an eftective Spanish army, and it weakened him by 
 sending to Holland Sir Thomas Graham with a force which 
 would have been far better employed under his immediate 
 orders. The eftects of this mistaken policy were felt in the 
 ensuing campaign, of which I shall now proceed to give a 
 brief outline.
 
 221 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 OPENING OF THE CAMPAIGN— BATTLE OF ORTHEZ. 
 
 In front of Lord Wellington's winter quarters lay a 
 country intersected by many deep and tortuous rivers, of 
 which the soil was rich and the lanes deep, and the roads, 
 except where one great paved causeway ran, ill made, and in 
 rainy weather all but impassable. Towards the sea it is 
 flat, and much overgrown with wood ; inland those rises 
 and falls abound, which almost everywhere seem to merge a 
 mountain district into the champaign. 
 
 It was protected at this time along the Lower Adour by 
 Bayonne, and the entrenched camp, which lay round it ; 
 while higher up, the features of the landscape were sucli as 
 to offer, at almost every mile, good defencible positions. 
 But its strength, in a military point of view, lay mainly in 
 this, that no invader would dare to penetrate far beyond the 
 Adour, leaving the entrenched camp to threaten his commu- 
 nications — while to threaten the camp and the army in the 
 field at the same time, would require a greater numerical 
 force than was supposed to be at Lord "Wellington's dis- 
 posal. 
 
 Por all these difficulties the English GTeneral was prepared : 
 he caused a fleet of coasters to be got together, some in Pas- 
 sages, some at St Jean de Luz, with planking and tackle 
 sufiicient to bridge the Adour at a spot nine miles below 
 Bayonne, while at the same time he brought up his pontoon 
 train by the great road and parked it between St Jean de 
 Luz and Bidard. His cavalry and heavy guns, which
 
 222 BATTLE OF ORTHEZ. [1814. 
 
 for convenience of forage had passed the winter in the val- 
 ley of the Bidassoa, were called in, and on the 14th of 
 February, 1814, just as the young herbage was beginning to 
 make its appearance, he put his columns in motion. 
 
 His first advances were directed against the enemy's left. 
 His own left meanwhile made a demonstration, but halted, as 
 if checked by the aspect of the entrenched camp at Anglette. 
 The consequence was that Soult, seeing no measures in pro- 
 gress for crossing the Adour in that direction, believed his 
 right to be safe, and drew off his troops, except about 12,000 
 men, to meet and restrain the English on his left. Of the 
 marches and partial encounters which took place upon and be- 
 low the many streams Avhich rise in the Pyrenees, and flow 
 into the Adour, I must leave the general historian to tell. 
 They were at once trying and deeply interesting to such aa 
 took part in them ; and they led to the concentration of two 
 corps of almost equal strength on either bank of the Grave de 
 Pan where it flows in front of Orthez. Soult carried into that 
 position about 40,000 men, whom he placed along a range of 
 heights, with St Bois on his left and Orthez on his right. 
 Lord Wellington faced him, with a force somewhat su- 
 perior in cavalry and guns, but in infantry rather inferior. 
 And on the 28th the battle was fought. It was long and 
 obstinately contested — appearing at one time to go so much 
 against the English, that Soult wrote a despatch from the 
 field preparing the French Minister of War for tidings of a 
 victory. But Lord Wellington suddenly changed his order 
 of battle, and attacking a point which was supposed to be 
 out of reach of danger, broke through the enemy's line, and 
 doubled it up. The French retired at first in good order, 
 carrying their artillery with them — but from all sides the 
 victors poured in, and the retreat became little better than 
 a rout. Six pieces of cannon, with many piisoners, remained 
 in the hands of the victors. 
 
 AVhile these things were going on upon the English right, 
 Sir John Hope with the left of the army, manoeuvred to keep 
 the garrison of Bayonne, and of the entrenched camp, from 
 interrupting the great work which he had in hand. The 
 fleet of coasters put to sea, and after much delay, occasioned
 
 1814.] TnE ADOUR BEIDGED. 223 
 
 by a succession of adverse gales, they passed the bar at tbe 
 mouth of the Adour, and began to take their proper stations. 
 Meanwhile above 600 men were thrown across in rafts, Avhile a 
 battery of eighteen-pounders drove onshore a flotilla of smaller 
 craft, and forced a corvette, which kept guard beside the town, 
 to move up tlie stream, and seek shelter under the guns of the 
 citadel. And then followed that series of operations which 
 placed Bayonne in a state of siege, while it opened a com- 
 munication between St Jean de Luz and the right bank of 
 the Adour. Thus Lord "Wellington's army became of neces- 
 sity divided. About 20,000, including two corps of Span- 
 iards, remained with Sir John Hope, while the residue, not 
 now exceeding 60,000 at the most, closed up in pursuit of 
 Soult, till circumstances again led to their further subdivi- 
 sion. 
 
 Driven from his strong position near Orthez, Soult direct- 
 ed the retreat of his army upon St Sever. This, though a 
 difficult, was a wise proceeding ; for the road to Bordeaux, 
 which was more open to him, could not have been held — 
 Lord Wellington following sharply. In this case the only 
 resource left for Soult would have been a march into the 
 Llandes ; where, if he escaped destruction from the enemy's 
 superior cavalry, he maist have been entirely cut ofi" from 
 communicating with Suchet, or receiving reinforcements 
 from the interior. On the other hand, by taking the road 
 to St Sever, he brought himself at the close of every march 
 nearer to the army of Catalonia ; and he had already, with 
 commendable forethought, prepared another fortified field of 
 battle at Toulouse. Fortune so far favoured him, likewise, 
 that the rains, which had ceased for a while, set in again 
 heavily, amid the pelting of which Lord Wellington followed 
 him as far as Sault-JN^availle. There, in consequence of the 
 failure of light, the English halted ; and, next day, continued 
 the pursuit in three distinct columns. The centre, marching 
 upon St Sever, crossed the Adour, unopposed. The left 
 made for Mount de Marsan, where it took possession of a 
 large magazine of provisions. Hill, with the right, overtook 
 Clausel at Aire, and immediately attacked him. It was a 
 sharp encounter ; but it ended in the overthrow of the
 
 224 A GEEAT TACTICIAN. [1814. 
 
 FreBch, who retreated across the Adoiir, abandoning the 
 town. With this passage of arms, the pursuit came to an 
 end. All the bridges on all the rivers in front were broken 
 down. The rivers themselves rose to flood ; and the roads, 
 and especially the by-paths, became difficult for the passage 
 of guns, and quite impracticable for the pontoon train. Lord 
 Wellington was thus reduced to a state of comparative in- 
 activity, of which Soidt availed himself, with his usual ability, 
 to restore order in his ranks, and to gather in as many con- 
 scripts as could be collected from the districts round him. 
 
 It is impossible to contemplate the course of these events, 
 taking into account the nature of the country, and the ex- 
 tent of space over which military operations were spread, 
 without being struck with the consummate ability which 
 Lord Wellington, as a tactician, exhibited throughout. 
 In sixteen days, he had effected the passage of five great 
 and many smaller rivers. He had forced the enemy to 
 abandon two tetes-de-pont, and numerous works of less im- 
 portance. He had fought with success one great and two 
 minor battles ; taken six pieces of cannon, and five thousand 
 prisoners. He had seized the magazines at Dax, Aire, and 
 Mont de Marsan ; thro-w-n a bridge over the mouth of the 
 Adour ; and besides investing St Jean Pied-de-Port, and 
 other lesser fortresses, now in his rear, he had placed Bay- 
 onne, the bulwark of Prance on this side, in a state of siege. 
 Pinally, he had compelled Soult to uncover Bordeaux, and 
 retreat from the Adour before effecting a junction with the 
 army of Catalonia. His force was, in the aggregate, doubt- 
 less superior to that which Soult could now oppose to him. 
 But on no occasion, when the armies met, either collectively 
 or in detachments, was the scale more than turned, and that 
 very lightly, on either side. By this time, however, the 
 French arm.y laboured under that depression of moral cour- 
 age to which all troops become subject after frequent defeats. 
 Physically brave, Prenchmen cannot cease to be. To the 
 last they fought stoutly, when face to face with the English. 
 But they fought, or believed that they fought, the losing 
 game ; and on that account, as much as through the superior 
 gallantry of their assailants, they lost it. Besides, they
 
 1814.] HIS PEUDENCE. 225 
 
 were out-geueraled on every occasion, and on every occasion 
 expected to be out-generaled. While Soult vras considering 
 the use to which he might best turn some temporary advan- 
 tage, Lord "Wellington, as in the battle of Orthez, changed 
 his plan ; and by a fresh attack, where no attack was antici- 
 pated, converted defeat into victory. Unfriendly critics 
 blame Lord Wellington for losing time in his pursuit of the 
 enemy, whom he had beaten. But critics, whether friendly 
 or the reverse, overlook the fact that Lord Wellington 
 sought at this time, not to make a mere inroad into France, 
 but firmly to establish himself there. It was necessary, 
 therefore, that he should render his presence, and that of his 
 army, as little as possible offensive to the people. Hence, 
 to move without his supplies, and thus be driven to subsist 
 by requisitions, was an extremity to which he would never 
 consent to be reduced. Besides, he had great political ob- 
 jects before him ; and these he believed that he would most 
 effectually subserve by adopting that course which after ex- 
 perience proved to have been, even in a purely military point 
 of view, the most judicious. 
 
 The south of France was greatly agitated at this time. 
 Weary of the war, and of the miseries which it brought 
 upon them, the people had become weary, also, of the exist- 
 ing government. But they were by no means at one in de- 
 siring the restoration of the old family, though the old 
 family had its partisans. It was necessary that Lord Wel- 
 lington should deal tenderly by these feelings ; neither ab- 
 solutely rejecting the advances of the Bourbon party, nor 
 absolutely declaring for a revolution which might never take 
 effect. He steered his course with as much of wisdom as of 
 firmness. In Bordeaux, for example, loyalty to the Bour- 
 bons was said to be almost universal. He determined to 
 give it a chance, by marching thither a corps, which, if it ef- 
 fected no other purpose, might open for him the Lower 
 Graronne. To Marshal Beresford, however, whom he em- 
 ployed on this service, he gave strict orders not on any 
 account to provoke a revolution. Should the authorities of 
 their own accord proclaim Louis XVIII. , he was to offer no 
 hindrance to the arrangement ; but he was to avoid the very 
 
 15
 
 226 THE BOURBOXS DISSATISFIED. [1814. 
 
 appearance of suggesting, or even of officially supporting it. 
 Bordeaux, like every other town and district occupied by the 
 allied troops, must, so long as hostilities continued, be 
 governed by magistrates deriving their authority from the 
 commander of the invading army. At the same time open 
 hostility to the government of Napoleon was to be proclaim- 
 ed, and magistrates and people equally assured, that what- 
 ever domestic arrangements Prance might prefer, would be 
 accepted by the Allies, provided they brought peace to Europe. 
 Tlais policy, though, in point of fact, more favourable to 
 their pretensions than one of open partisanship, proved the 
 reverse of satisfactory to the Bourbon princes. The Due 
 d'Angoideme protested against it, and demanded, as repre- 
 senting the king, his uncle, authority to unfurl the white 
 flag, and to administer the affairs of the conquered country. 
 He was respectfully, but firmly reminded, that, till the Allied 
 Sovereigns should cease to treat Napoleon as the ruler of 
 Trance, the General of their armies could not presume to 
 recognise any other ruler. At the same time the Due was 
 not discouraged fi'om gathering his adherents about him ; 
 and arrangements were made for supplying them with arms, 
 should arms be required. Meanwhile, however, everything 
 was done which prudence and humanity dictated, to establish 
 between the invaders and the invaded the best understand- 
 ing. "With English and Portuguese regiments strict disci- 
 pline prevailed. Brigandage was unknown, and for individual 
 acts of . outrage, when they occurred, severe retribution was 
 exacted. For example, having called upon the people, by 
 proclamation, to protect themselves. Lord Wellington ap- 
 plauded certain peasants, who, in resisting an attempt to 
 plunder their village, shot one British soldier, and brought 
 another to head-quarters. The latter Lord Wellington 
 executed on the spot. Indeed, he went further ; for on one 
 occasion he sent home, in disgrace, an officer of rank, because 
 he had permitted his men to destroy the communal archives 
 of a small town. The consequence was, that the English 
 soon became honoured guests in the houses of French fami- 
 lies, and that the Portuguese were, at least, not disliked. It 
 was more difficult to deal with the Spaniards. They soon
 
 1814.] HIS WISE POLICY. 227 
 
 returned to their old habits, which threatened at one moment 
 to bring about very serious results. " Maintain," wrote Lord 
 Wellington to General Freyre, " the strictest discipline, with- 
 out which we are lost." And again, writing to Morillo, he 
 expresses himself thus : " I have lost 20,000 men in this cam- 
 paign ; but it was not in order that Greneral Morillo, or any- 
 body else, should come in and plunder the French peasantry ; 
 as long as I command I will not permit it ; if they wish to 
 plunder they must find another chief. It is a matter of 
 perfect indifference to me whether I command a large army 
 or a small one ; bu.t whether great or small, it must obey me, 
 and above all, it must not plunder." 
 
 It is curious to observe how entirely this line of policy, 
 with all the results arising out of it, was Lord Wellington's 
 policy, and his only. The northern powers condemned it ; 
 the Bourbons clamoured against it ; and his own Grovernment 
 urged him to modify it, in order that France might, at all 
 events, be divided against itself. He never approved of the 
 procedure, but he so far yielded to the pressure from without 
 as to issue, about this time, two proclamations, inviting the 
 French people to declare against Napoleon. " Come," he 
 said, in one of these, " and rally under the banner of your 
 legitimate prince : " in the other, after contrasting the rival 
 dynasties and their principles of action, he promises, in the 
 event of a return to legitimacy, " No more tyranny, no more 
 war, no more conscriptions, no more vexatious imposts." 
 And the proclamations were not without eifect. Men re- 
 ceived them as an appeal which was the more deserving of 
 attention, because it came to them from one who had render- 
 ed himself respected, almost beloved, by the equity and gen- 
 tleness of his own proceedings. Indeed, it is not going too 
 far to say, that the revolution in public opinion, which began 
 at this time to become perceptible in the South of France, 
 turned much less upon the prestige of a dethroned royalty 
 than upon the wisdom and moderation of the English 
 General. We find this truth not obscurely indicated in a 
 letter written at the time from Bayonne. " The wise conduct 
 of the English General, and the excellent discipline which he 
 maintains among his troops, do us more harm than the loss
 
 228 SOULT'S FIDELITY. [1814. 
 
 of battles. All the peasantry desire to place themselves under 
 his protection." In the same spirit Soult expressed him- 
 self when complaining of the frequent desertions of his 
 soldiers, and the impossibility of effecting a general rising 
 against the invader. " I shall not be surprised," he vrrote to 
 the Minister of "VVar, " to see the inhabitants of these dis- 
 tricts soon taking up arms against us." M. Brialmont has 
 well described the state of things in the following words : — 
 " "With an energy and a patriotism which were too rai'e at 
 that period, Soult made incredible elforts to re-establish 
 public opinion ; and called upon the French to defend at 
 least the soil of their country against foreign armies. ' Let 
 us show ourselves Frenchmen,' he cried, ' and die with arms 
 in our hands, rather than survive our dishonour.' Vain 
 hope ! the Government of Napoleon, like other tyrannies, 
 had enervated men's character, and substituted for true 
 patriotism a species of national vanity, which could be grati- 
 fied only by the prestige of victory. At the first reverse the 
 feeling evaporated, and the French people, amid the clouds 
 of smoke which obscured the soil of Europe, saw only their 
 own blood uselessly shed, their families wasted away, their 
 goods taken from them, their happiness destroyed. How- 
 ever legitimate might be these subjects of regret, whatever 
 amount of blame might attach to Napoleon, it is still impos- 
 sible not to admire the heroic bands, the slaves of duty and 
 honour, who, up to the last moment, gathered round the 
 tricoloured flag. Entire devotion to a cause, even if it be 
 unjust, inspires greater respect than defection, sanctioned, 
 though it be, by important considerations of state."
 
 229 
 
 CHAPTEE XXIV. 
 
 ADVANCE TO TOULOUSE BATTLE OF TOULOUSE SORTIE FROM 
 
 BATONNE CESSATION OF HOSTILITIES. 
 
 Having extricated his army from the danger which threat- 
 ened it, Soult halted between Maubeurguet and Eubastein, 
 ia a position which enabled him to cover Tarbes, and to 
 watch the development of his adversary's designs. The 
 English, he persuaded himself, must of necessity move, either 
 upon Bordeaux or Toulouse. If they took the former route, 
 he, as his letters show, was prepared to throw himself upon 
 their rear ; if the latter, then he hoped that he should be 
 able seriously to disturb their left. He seems never to have 
 contemplated the probability of their attempting both objects 
 at the same time ; he, therefore, took no steps to prevent it. 
 Yet such was Lord Wellington's plan. "Weakening himself 
 to the extent of 12,000 English and Portuguese troops, he 
 detached Beresford on the 8th with the 4th and 7th divi- 
 sions, and Vivian's light dragoons, to take possession of Bor- 
 deaux, while with the remainder, consisting of the 2nd, 3rd, 
 6th, and light divisions, and the bulk of the cavalry, he him- 
 self stood fast at Aire, ready to take advantage of any false 
 move into which his adversary might be hurried. 
 
 And here there befell one of those contingencies which are 
 not very frequent in war, but on which, when they do occur, 
 the success of campaigns almost always turns. Their sources 
 of intelligence failed both Lord Wellington and Soult. Each 
 received exaggerated reports of the strength of the other ; 
 each believed what he heard, and was guided by it. Lord
 
 230 BORDEAUX TAKEN. [1814. 
 
 "Wellingtou, convinced that Suchet had joined Soult, ab- 
 stained from molesting him in Beresford's absence ; Soult, 
 unacquainted with the fact of Beresford's march, was con- 
 tent to maintain a purely defensive attitude. At last, hovr- 
 ever, on the 12th Soult took the initiative. Orders had 
 reached him from Paris to move upon Pau, so that his left 
 might rest upon the Pyrenees ; and he now pushed forward 
 between Aire and Garlin, hoping to strike a blow against 
 one or other of the somewhat scattered divisions of the 
 Allies. But Lord Wellington was not to be surprised. His 
 troops closed rapidly in, and for three days the hostile 
 armies faced one another. On the 16th, however, Soult 
 heard of the capture of Bordeaux by Beresford, and labour- 
 ing under the impression that his adversary had been strongly 
 reinforced (though, in truth, the only troops which joined 
 him were Freyre's corps of 8000 Spaniards, and they came 
 up on the 13th and 14th), he became alarmed for his own 
 communications, and retreated before dawn by St Gaudens 
 towards Toulouse. 
 
 While these things were going on along the course of the 
 Upper Adour, Marshal Beresford effected his purpose at 
 Bordeaux. The Prench garrison retired as he approached, 
 and the magistracy and people received him with open arms. 
 It was to no purpose that, acting on Lord Wellington's in- 
 structions, he advised the authorities to pause before com- 
 mitting themselves ; the loyalty of the mayor could not be 
 restrained, and Louis the Eighteenth was proclaimed, amid 
 the wildest rejoicing. The forts which commanded the na- 
 vigation of the river still, however, held out, and the means 
 at Beresford's disposal were not, upon investigation, con- 
 sidered adequate to the reduction of the most important 
 of them. But the only inconvenience arising out of this 
 circumstance was, that the estuary of the Garonne could 
 not, as yet, be used as a harbour for the British fleet ; an 
 arrangement for which, till the army should be more ad- 
 vanced, there was no very urgent necessity. 
 
 Satisfied with what had been done, and believing that one 
 infantry division, with a few squadrons of horse, would suf- 
 fice to maintain order in Bordeaux, Lord Wellington direct-
 
 ISU.] HIS DIFFICULTIES. 231 
 
 ed Marshal Beresford to return witla the rest to his old po- 
 sition on the Adour. He had previously instructed General 
 Clinton in Catalonia, to break up his force altogether, and 
 to send to him, through the valley of the Ebro, 4000 of the 
 best of his infantry. JS'either this detachment, however, nor 
 others, which were on the move by sea and land, from Lis- 
 bon and from England, arrived in time to take part in the 
 operations which he meditated. Soult had retired on the 
 16th ; Beresford came in late on the l7th ; and at an early 
 hour on tlie 18th the advance began. 
 
 It was Lord Wellington's object to throw himself, by a 
 rapid march, into the valley of the Adour, and to bar against 
 the French the great road leading from Tarbes to St Grau- 
 dens and Toulouse. Soult had anticipated the danger, and 
 now occupied not only Tarbes itself, but Vic-de-Bigorre, a 
 small town distant from Tarbes about three leagues. "With 
 the corps which held that place, the English advanced guard 
 became engaged on the 19th, and forced it to retire. Next 
 day, the Allies, moving as they had heretofore doue, in two 
 columns, had a second affair at and around Tarbes, where 
 the left, under Hill, found itself confronted by d'Erlon's, 
 Clausel's, and Eeille's divisions. The Allies were again suc- 
 cessful, but the enemy escaped, because the pursuers, en- 
 cumbered with their bridge-train, and a long array of bag- 
 gage animals, were unable to cut in upon the fugitives at 
 Trie, and to head them in the plains of Muret. Indeed, 
 herein lay the great hindrance to Lord "Wellington through- 
 out the whole of his campaign in the south of Erance. The 
 innumerable rivei's with which the country is intersected 
 were all passable at will by the defending army. So long 
 as they ran in Soult's rear the bridges remained; but the 
 moment Soult crossed, he broke the bridges down ; thus in- 
 terposing between him and his pursuers obstacles which 
 would have proved insurmountable, had not Lord "Welling- 
 ton carried with him the necessary appliances for repairing 
 them. And so with respect to supplies of forage and pro- 
 visions. Moving through a country where, for political 
 reasons, it was essential to conciliate, and, as much as pos- 
 sible, to spare the inhabitants, his commissariat mides were,
 
 232 SOULT IN TOULOUSE. [1814. 
 
 to the leader of tlie allied troops, as necessary as liis guns. 
 The enemy, on the other hand, divested themselves of all 
 impediments. They compelled each district as they arrived 
 in it to feed them, and they pressed, without scruple, cattle 
 and horses for draft, as often as they v^ere required. Hence 
 they could not well fail to out-march their pursuers, and to 
 choose from time to time their points of resistance. The 
 consequence was that Soult arrived in Toulouse three whole 
 days before Lord Wellington ; an interval of the greatest 
 possible importance to him, and which he did not fail, with 
 his usual sagacity, to turn to good account. 
 
 The selection of Toulouse as the point on which he should 
 retire, indicated both talent and resolution on the part of 
 Soult. It gave him the command of several lines of oper- 
 ation ; such as by Carcassonne towards Suchet, or by Alby 
 upon Lyons, while it placed him in the best possible attitude 
 for watching the schemes of the Legitimatists, and main- 
 taining the authority of the existing Government. Covered 
 on three sides by the canal of Languedoe, and on the fourth 
 by the Garonne, the town itself was surrounded within these 
 barriers by an old wall, which, having towers at intervals, 
 was capable of oftering serioiis resistance, except to heavy 
 artillery. Soult displayed great engineering skill in im- 
 proving these defences. He converted the canal, from the 
 point where it falls into the Garonne as far up as the bridge 
 of Demoiselles, into an outer line. This line protected the 
 Carcassonne road, by which a junction between himself and 
 Suchet could be eifected, whether the latter should decide 
 on operating a diversion in his favour from Catalonia, or 
 that both should retire upon Beziers. 
 
 The canal of Languedoe lay, for a considerable space, 
 within musket-shot of the towu wall. It could everywhere 
 be swept by cannon. But further to the north-east, be- 
 tween it and the river Ers, runs a range of heights, called 
 Mount Have. These Soult fortified by throw^ing up, at 
 convenient distances, five redoubts, and connecting them 
 with retrenchments. On the south-west side, with the Ga- 
 ronne flowing between, stood the faubourg of St Cyprien, 
 which, like the town, was defended by an old waU, and
 
 1814.] POSITION OP TOULOUSE. 233 
 
 served all the purposes of a tete-de-pont. Thus was con- 
 structed an entrenched camp of the most formidable kind, of 
 which Toulouse itself may be described as the citadel, every 
 avenue of approach being covered by field-works, and pro- 
 tected by a numerous artillery. 
 
 From this position, which he not unnaturally regarded as 
 impregnable, Soult wrote to Suchet, imploring him to forget 
 everything, except the condition of their country, and to 
 come to his support. It was the last appeal, and it met 
 with no response. Suchet pleading that he had not 3000 
 men disposable, though, in point of fact, he could muster 
 13,000, refused to give up his separate command, and Soult 
 was left with his own army and the division of Greneral 
 Paris to wage such a war as he could. Tet, even unas- 
 sisted from Catalonia, he cannot be said to have stood at 
 great disadvantage towards his adversary. His position 
 was excellent. The muster-rolls of his army show that he 
 had 39,160 combatants under arms, and that his artillery 
 amounted to 80 pieces. Lord Wellington, on the other 
 hand, was able to bring against him only 45,000 infantry, 
 of whom 15,000 were Spaniards, with 6000 cavalry and 64 
 guns. Whatever the English Greneral might gain, there- 
 fore, by mere excess of numbers, he more than lost, partly 
 in the composition of his infantry, partly in the difficulties 
 of the ground on which he was about to operate. It was, 
 in every point of view, a fair fight, the assailants having, 
 indeed, a harder part to play in it than the defenders. 
 
 Lord Wellington moving slowly, as the state of the roads 
 compelled him to do, arrived on the 26th in sight of Tou- 
 louse. The enemy drew in their outposts on his approach, 
 and took post behind the Graronne and the Lers. It was the 
 first intention of the English Greneral to pass the Garonne 
 above the town, and thereby to interpose between Soult 
 and Montauban. Indeed, Sir Eowland Hill's corps was ac- 
 tually thrown across in the night, just above the junction 
 of the Ariege with the Garonne, and directed to march upon 
 Cintegabelle, where there was a bridge upon the latter 
 stream. But the melting of the snow in the mountains, 
 together with the heavy rains of the past week, had so filled
 
 234 BATTLE OF TOULOUSE. [1814- 
 
 tlie marshes wliicli lie between the Garonne and the Ari^ge 
 that to move even infantry through them, far more cavalry 
 and guns, proved impossible. Hill was, in consequence, re- 
 called, and another point of attack chosen. It was nearer 
 to the towTi, though still on the left of the enemy's position, 
 at a place called Portet. There, however, on trying them, 
 the pontoons proved to be of insufl&cient span ; and Soult, 
 warned by the attempt, threw up works to avert the danger. 
 Nothing now remained, except to assault the heights be- 
 tween the Ers and the canal, and as a preliminary step, to 
 force the passage of the Garonne below the town. 
 
 I must refer the curious in such matters to the larger 
 edition of this work, for a detail of the manoeuvres which 
 preceded and led up to the battle of Toulouse. They were 
 executed in spite of the hindrances which ceaseless rains and 
 roads well-nigh impassable offer to the movement of troops. 
 But determination and perseverance overcame them all, and 
 on tlie 10th of April the fight began. It was maintained on 
 both sides with greater obstinacy than any other which had 
 occurred since the opening of the war. Confident in the 
 strength of their position, and well supported by the fire of 
 a superior artillery, the French disputed every inch of 
 ground, and when the evening closed were still in possession 
 of the town, and of the line of the canal. But the redoubts 
 w-hich commanded the town had fallen, and Soult knew that 
 his game was lost. On the other hand the English had ex- 
 pended the whole of their great-gun ammunition, and till sup- 
 plies could be brought up from the rear, an operation which 
 required time, they were not in a state to renew an offen- 
 sive battle. Favoured by this circumstance, Soult was able 
 in the course of the 11th to send away such baggage as 
 could be inoved without attracting attention, and the same 
 night he withdrew by the only road which lay open to him, 
 leaving, besides his wounded, all his heavy cannon and stores, 
 with a considerable depot of small arms, to become the prey 
 of the conquerors. 
 
 Lord "Wellington fought the battle of Toulouse upon a 
 plan whicli as much as possible guarded the inhabitants 
 from becoming more than spectators of the horrors of war.
 
 1814.] CLOSE OF THE WAR. 235 
 
 Not a shot or shell from an English gun fell within the 
 town. And now his arrangements were made for investing 
 the place, so as to compel the French army either to come 
 out and fight, or else to lay down its arms. His troops, in- 
 deed, had begun to move towards the single carriage road of 
 which they were not already masters, when daybreak on 
 the 12th made the fact apparent, that Soult and his people 
 were gone. Not a picket guard stood to their arms, not a 
 sentry showed himself, and presently, while men yet wondei'ed 
 what the cause of such unlooked-for silence might be, the 
 silence was broken by the pealing of bells in the city. Sud- 
 denly upon every tower and housetop visible a white flag 
 was seen to wave, and by and by the air rang with the 
 shouts of people rejoicing. Toulouse, freed from the pre- 
 sence of Napoleon's garrison, declared for Louis the 18th, 
 and'the British troops were greeted as they drew near, not 
 as enemies, but as deliverers. 
 
 AVith the battle of Toulouse the great Peninsular War 
 may be said to have come to an end. At Bayonne, indeed, 
 four days later, a profitless encounter took place, the garri- 
 son making a sortie, by which they gained nothing, and 
 some valuable lives on both sides were sacrificed. And in 
 the Tipper Graronne and on the borders of Catalonia, Soult 
 and Suchet hesitated before they could bring themselves to 
 believe the truth ; but Lord Wellington's firmness and the 
 preparations which he made to resume hostilities overcame 
 their scruples. They sent in their adhesion to the new order 
 of things, and thex'e was peace everywhere. 
 
 In describing these operations I have referred as yet 
 only to the public acts of the great mover in them, and to 
 the consequences of these acts. Let us not bring this chap< 
 ter to a close without detailing one or two incidents which 
 seem to me to throw a good deal of light upon the character 
 of the Duke of Wellington as a man as well as an officer. 
 
 The idea of bridging the estuary of the Adour with Chasse 
 Marees and Schooners sent in from the sea, was entirely his 
 own. The engineer ofiicers whom he consulted on the sub- 
 ject condemned it. And even Admiral Penrose and his gal- 
 lant captains pronounced the scheme hazardous to a degree.
 
 2;i6 HIS PROMPTITUDE. [1814. 
 
 " If you get the vessels over the Bar," demanded the 
 foi'mer, " -whence are we to procure planking ? " " Haven't 
 you just got from England a quantity of timber, saAved, and 
 ready for laying platforms ? " " Certainly," was the answer, 
 " but that we shall require for our batteries." " jSTonsense, 
 take the platform timber for the bridge, we must have the 
 bridge before we can begin the siege of Bayonne." " And 
 what are we to do afterwards ? " " There's plenty of pine- 
 wood near Bayonne ; you can cut and saw that, and till it 
 is ready the guns must be worked on the sand." And sure 
 enough to the purposes of the bridge the new platforms 
 were applied, without any hindrance or mischief arising in 
 the course of future operations. 
 
 Lord Wellington's conduct on this occasion reminds me 
 of the promptitude and decision with which, at the siege of 
 Ciudad-Rodrigo, he applied a sudden remedy to a pressing 
 want. It was necessary, in order to break ground for the 
 trenches, to brusque a lunette, which crowned the great 
 Teso hill. There were no ladders at hand wherewith to 
 escalade, and the engineers told him so, and asked for time. 
 " How much time do you want ? " " If we had the wood, a 
 few hours would suffice, but we have nothing of which to 
 make either side pieces or rounds !" " What are those carts 
 that I see there ? there seem to be some hundreds of them." 
 " They are the country carts on which the spare ammunition 
 was brought up from Almeida." " Very well, take them, Tou 
 see that you have the side pieces ready made to yoin* hand in 
 the beams and shafts, the rounds you can easily make out of 
 the boarding." The fitness of the project was acknowledged 
 as soon as expressed, and. that same niglit the lunette was car- 
 ried by means of ladders improvised out of a few bullock-carts. 
 
 With respect to Admiral Penrose and his brother officers, 
 they argued reasonably enough, that the Bar alone presented 
 an obstacle which was not to be surmounted in all weathers, 
 and that, granting it to be surmounted, an enemy in pos- 
 session of one bank of a river must be very remiss indeed 
 if he failed to render the anchorage too hot for such craft 
 as were about to approach it. " I have no fear," was Lord 
 Wellington's answer, " but that your fellows will carry the
 
 18U.] HIS PEESOXAL ACTIVITY. 237 
 
 craft over the Bar, and depend upon it 111 take care that 
 nothing hurts them afterwards." And so it was. A bat- 
 talion of guards seized the right bank, while a field-battery 
 of 18-pounders held the left, and the craft took up their sta- 
 tions, and the bridge was constructed without the slightest 
 damage done, except by the accidents of navigation. 
 
 Lord AVellington's personal activity, especially at the 
 opening of this campaign, astonished even the members of 
 his staif, who knew him best. He rode over and over again 
 from one extremity of his line to another, as much as 60 or 
 70 miles, and back again, with scarcely a halt. He ate his 
 meals more than once by the way-side, and not unfrequeutly 
 fasted from dawn till late at night. His aversion to the 
 pomp and circumstance in which the generals of other 
 armies delight, he sometimes carried to a fault. His famous 
 ride, for example, from Gracis to the site of the bridge of 
 boats on the Adour, carried him through a country which 
 was by no means safe, yet he performed it without an 
 escort. Lord Fitzroy alone attending him. Indeed, escorts 
 he entirely rejected except when engaged in the act of re- 
 connoitring close to the enemy's position. More than once 
 he had, in consequence, a narrow escape for his life. AVhen 
 the enemy were falling back from the Gave d' Oleron to 
 Orthez, he shot ahead of his own advanced guard, and made 
 for a hill, whence he conceived that he should command a 
 full view of their line of march. Colonel Gordon, Lord 
 Fitzroy, and several other officers were with him, but no 
 escort. Gordon happened to be well mounted, and rode a 
 little ahead of the rest, by which means he gained the brow 
 of the hill while Lord Wellington was yet a yard or two 
 from the summit. Eight in his teeth came a party of French 
 cavalry whom he had just time to escape by wheeling round 
 and galloping back. Down came the troopers upon Gordon, 
 and away went Lord Wellington and his staff, their swords 
 out, but trusting more to the speed of their horses than to 
 their right arms. And by the speed of their horses alone 
 they escaped. 
 
 On the other hand, this habit of passing from point to 
 point well-nigh like a private person, gave him opportunities
 
 238 THE POXTOOX BRIDGE. [1814. 
 
 of seeing witli his own eyes what might have been hidden 
 from him had he approached the point of vision in a crowd. 
 He was extremely anxious about his pontoon bridge during 
 the days of preparation Avhich led up to the battle of 
 Toulouse. And perhaps his anxiety on that head was not 
 the less keen, that in consequence of some changes of con- 
 struction proposed by himself, the pontoons did not appear 
 to possess the same amount of flotation which had previously 
 belonged to them. Twice the bridge was carried away ; 
 once, when tried, it proved too short for the span of the 
 river, and once it sank with the weight of a heavy gun. 
 
 Of the point where these attempts had been made the 
 French became naturally jealous, and more than one working 
 and covering party was driven off by a heavy fire from the 
 other side. Lord Wellington became impatient, and down 
 he went, absolutely alone, to reconnoitre. He had justly 
 calculated the chances. A French sentry immediately fired, 
 but missed him, whereupon a French ofiicer, seeing only one 
 man, and not observing about him anything to indicate that 
 he was of superior rank, ran down to the river-side and 
 apologized for the outrage in words which the Duke often 
 repeated afterwards with great glee, " Pardon, Monsieur, 
 c'est unnoveau." The kindness was acknowledged, and the 
 two entered into conversation, which Lord Wellington kept 
 up till he had seen and comprehended all that he was desir- 
 ous of looking into. He then raised his hat and went away, 
 to turn the knowledge which he had thus acquired to ex- 
 cellent account. 
 
 The bridge being at length laid, and two divisions, under 
 Beresford, sent across, a fresh came on in the night, and to 
 save the pontoons from being carried away, the engineers 
 were obliged to remove some of them. This rendered the 
 passage impracticable for horses, and not very safe for men; 
 indeed it was only one by one that individuals could cross 
 at all. Lord Wellington, bent upon reconnoitring Soult's 
 inner line, passed the bridge when it was in this state. He 
 went on foot and he went alone. A troop horse was furn- 
 ished to him on the other side, and he thus took a survey 
 of the enemy's position.
 
 ISU.] HIS ENTEAXCE INTO TOCLOUSE. 239 
 
 " "Was not Beresford in great danger then, and you also, 
 Duke ? " " No, there Tvas no danger. Soult ought to have 
 attacked ns, I allow, but we were in a condition to put 
 our back to the river, and he could not have done us any 
 harm." 
 
 Those who saw the Duke pass, as I have just described, 
 were not of that opinion at the moment, and their satisfac- 
 tion was proportionately great, when he returned the same 
 evening, and they heard him tell over his own dinner-table 
 how the troop-horse had carried him. 
 
 The style of his arrival in Toulouse itself, on the morning 
 of the 12th, when the retreat of Soult's army became known, 
 was entirely in keeping with all that went before. While 
 the Maire and municipal body, followed by an enormous 
 crowd, waited at one gate to receive him with all due honour, 
 Lord "VTellington rode round to another, with a single aide- 
 de-camp in his train, and entered unnoticed. He made for 
 the Hotel de Ville, nobody knowing or caring to ask who he 
 was ; and there, by and by, the authorities found him. Then 
 it became necessary that he should show himself, and he stood 
 upon the balcony and bowed to the crowd. The same day 
 he gave a dinner, to which many general officers and all the 
 leading gentlemen of the city were invited. "Wliile the com- 
 pany sat at table. Colonel Cooke arrived from Paris, bring- 
 ing with him the astounding intelligence of Napoleon's ab- 
 dication. Lord AYellington immediately rose, and glass in 
 hand, proposed the health of Louis XVIII. The shout 
 with which the company received the toast, was soon taken 
 up out of doors, and ran from street to street. Yet it was 
 scarcely so loud, and certainly for less cordial than the greet- 
 ing which attended the nest toast, of which General Alava 
 was the proposer — " Lord "WeUington, Liberador di Es- 
 pagna." 
 
 Every person in the room sprung to his feet ; some stood 
 on chairs, several upon the table, and there followed in quick 
 succession, uttered in Portuguese and in French, " Liberador 
 de Portugal," " Le Liberateur de la France," " Le Libera- 
 teur de I'Europe." Probably on no occasion during his 
 long and varied life, was Lord Wellington so much over-
 
 240 GREAT EXCITEMENT. [1814. 
 
 come ; and no wonder. Men sliook each other by the hand, 
 or rushed into each other's arms, shrieking, laughing, — some 
 of them weeping from excitement. So tremendous was the 
 revulsion, from a state of chronic war to a state of peace, 
 so unbounded their admiration of the man, whom they 
 regarded as the chief instrument in bringing it about. As 
 to Lord Wellington, he rose to return thanks, but could not 
 utter a word. He looked round at the company with tears 
 in his eyes, and calling for coffee, sat down again. 
 
 A performance at the theatre followed the dinner, the 
 piece selected being " Coeur de Lion," and after the play 
 there came a ball. It was given by Lord Wellington at the 
 house which had been assigned to him, and went off, as may 
 be imagined, with great spirit. And so, from day to day, 
 feasting and rejoicing took the place of warlike preparations. 
 But this is not all. 
 
 Hostilities having ceased, it was not perhaps unnatural 
 that the inhabitants of a conquered country should endeavour 
 to conciliate the victors by treating them well. But in the 
 present instance, the inhabitants of the invaded country had 
 never, except in very isolated cases, treated the invaders 
 otherwise than well. The rear of the British army, and its 
 followers, were just as safe in the south of France as they 
 had ever been in Spain. It more than once occurred that 
 the sick, the wounded, the commissariat stores, and the mi- 
 litary chest were left without a guard in some town removed 
 by three or four leagues from the nearest English division. 
 Yet no attempt was made to rob them, far less to massacre 
 the helpless soldiers and servants, or to carry off the booty. 
 How different this from the condition of the French army 
 in Portugal and Spain ! Yet both facts are easily accounted 
 for. The strictest discipline prevailed in one army ; the 
 loosest moral in the other. No British officer or soldier ever 
 took from a French civilian an ai'ticle of any kind without 
 paying for it. No French officer or soldier ever thought of 
 paying for anything which a Spaniard or Portuguese civilian 
 might own, of which he stood in need. In the south of 
 France women and children passed to and fro through the 
 English lines unmolested, and were treated by the officers
 
 1814.] LORD WELLINGTON'S HOUNDS. 241 
 
 and men, when quartered upon tliem, witla the utmost kind- 
 ness and respect. How the wretched inhabitants of Spain, 
 and still more of Portugal, fared, when Junot and Massena 
 and Marmont and Soult were their masters, it is not neces- 
 sary to say. Indeed, so confident was Lord "Wellington in 
 the good-will of the people, whom his justice and the excel- 
 lent conduct of his troops had conciliated, that he caused his 
 hounds to travel in the rear of the army, and had more than 
 one day's hunting in the intervals of battles. They were 
 regularly kennelled in Toulouse, where many a Prench gen- 
 tleman saw for the first time — himself vai nly striving to keep 
 pace with the field — what English fox-hunting was. 
 
 16
 
 242 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 THE DUKE IN PARIS AT MADRID IN ENGLAND RETURNS 
 
 TO FRANCE. 
 
 Of the course of events whicli preceded, elsewhere, tlie 
 first abdication of Napoleon, and the return of the princes 
 of the house of Bourbon to France, I am not required to 
 give an account. They have taken their place in the history 
 of Europe, of which they cover one of the most interesting 
 pages. They were scarcely complete, so far as the restora- 
 tion of Louis XVIII. could complete them, ere Lord Wel- 
 lington was urgently requested to transfer himself to Paris. 
 The Allied Sovereigns were there, in delicate and difiicult 
 circumstances, and they desired to take counsel with the 
 conqueror of the Peninsula. This invitation reached Lord 
 "Wellington through Viscount Castlereagh, who represented 
 the Prince Regent at the Congress ; and who in conveying 
 it, announced to his correspondent, that he had been select- 
 ed by the English Government for the important post of 
 ambassador at the court of the Tuileries. It was not an 
 appointment which Lord Wellington would have sought. 
 He had been long absent from home ; and would have re- 
 joiced had he been allowed a little time to superintend the 
 education of his sons, and to arrange his private affairs. 
 Personal considerations, however, weighed with him in the 
 present instance, as little as they usually did, when placed 
 in the scale against public duty. He accepted the charge 
 which the Grovernment laid upon him, and made the neces« 
 sary preparations for entering upon his new duties.
 
 1814.] THE ARMY BROKEN UP. 243 
 
 To break Tip the fine army which he had so long com- 
 manded, and bid farewell to troops who had served him so 
 faithfully, was no agreeable task to a man of his tempera- 
 ment. He was proud of both officers and men, and in spite 
 of the sternness which characterized many of his general 
 orders, they were personally attached to him. But he habit- 
 ually concealed his feelings ; and now sent back his Portu- 
 giiese and Spanish regiments to their respective countries, 
 with as much apparent indifference, as if he had been put- 
 ting them into winter quarters. The English were broken 
 up in the same spirit ; the infantry and artillery marching 
 to their transports ; some to Passages, others to Bordeaux. 
 The cavalry he moved to the Pas de Calais, whence the 
 voyage to England was short. Meanwhile he found himself 
 in a position of something like antagonism with the Due 
 d'Angouleme. Anticipating the course of events, that prince 
 had ventured to modify by proclamation the existing cus- 
 toms levied in the south of Prance ; and was not without 
 difficulty brought to understand that neither law nor policy 
 justified the proceeding. Lord Wellington's firmness pre- 
 vailed, and the obnoxious proclamation was withdrawn ; 
 though the act of interference with the Divine right of 
 kings could never afterwards be atoned for. 
 
 After putting these matters in train. Lord Wellington, on 
 the 1st of May, quitted Toulouse. He reached Paris on 
 the 4th, the journey having been remarkable for only one 
 occurrence, of which I have often heard him speak. He had 
 never seen Soult, except through his telescope, first from 
 the hill above Sauroren, and again during the battles near 
 Bedart. Their carriages stopped to change horses at the 
 same post-house, on the night of the 2nd, Soult being then 
 on his way from Paris, Wellington towards it. But Lord 
 Wellington was asleep when the incident occurred, and only 
 heard of it from Lord Pitzroy Somerset at a latter stage in 
 the journey. 
 
 Lord Wellington reached Paris on the morning of the 
 4th of May. He proceeded, immediately after calling upon 
 Lord Castlereagh, to pay his respects to the Allied Sove- 
 reigns, with whom, as well as with the Prench Government,
 
 244 IN PARIS. [1814. 
 
 he entered at once into confidential communication. They 
 were anxious about many matters, but none gave them 
 greater uneasiness than the general condition of Spanish 
 afiairs. These seemed to the congress to be in absolute 
 confusion. 'Now to no living man was Spain and the cha- 
 racter of her people more intimately known than to Lord 
 "Wellington. He was, therefore, better able than any otlier 
 to advise concerning them. Tet advice, however sound, 
 offered from a distance, was not likely to carry much weight 
 with it, under existing circumstances. Lord Wellington 
 therefore proposed, and the Allies gladly acceded to the 
 proposal, that he should undertake a journey to Madi-id ; 
 and there, upon the spot, exercise such influence as he pos- 
 sessed, in bringing the King and the contending factions 
 among the people, to understand the true nature of their 
 relative positions. The case was this : 
 
 The government of Spaia during the late struggle, if go- 
 vernment it deserves to be called, first by Juntas, and lat- 
 terly by a Cortes and a Regency, had never been cordially 
 approved of by Ferdinand. He pledged himself, it is true, 
 to maintain whenever he should be restored to the throne, 
 the privileges of the Cortes ; but he probably never intended 
 to keep his word ; he certainly broke it as soon as he found 
 himself strong enough to do so. The priesthood and the 
 peasantry were generally with him ; of the nobles, perhaps, 
 a majority took the same side ; but a large portion of the 
 army desired free institutions ; as did almost all the trading 
 classes, with the professional and middle orders of society. 
 The King found it necessary, therefore, during his journey 
 to Madrid, to temporize. But he no sooner reached the 
 capital, and saw himself surrounded by crowds of flatterers, 
 than he threw aside all disguise. A violent reactionary 
 policy began. The Cortes was dissolved ; all its previous 
 acts of liberalism were reversed ; the chiefs of the liberal 
 party were imprisoned or driven into exile, and old abuses 
 in Church and State were restored. The populace shouted 
 and threw up their caps ; the nation was dismayed ; and 
 civil war — a curse everywhere, but in Spain a more terrible 
 curse than anywhere else — seemed on the eve of breaking
 
 1814.] CREATED A DUKE, 245 
 
 out. Now, if there was one prospect more hideous than 
 another to the chiefs of the confederacy, which had put down 
 the revolutionary spirit in France, it was the reappearance 
 of that spirit elsewhere, whatever form it might assume ; 
 and Lord Wellington was charged by every means in his 
 power to stop, if possible, the King and people of Spain 
 from coming to blows. 
 
 He had arrived in Paris on the 4th of May, and on the 
 10th was ready to quit it again. It was a brief interval, 
 yet it brought him two pieces of gratifying intelligence. 
 The Prince Regent had raised him to the dignity of a duke- 
 dom, and Parliament had voted, for the maintenance of the 
 title, a sum of half a million, to be laid out in the purchase 
 of a landed estate. He acknowledged, as became him, these 
 munificent recognitions of services past, and departed on his 
 joiu'ney to add to their numbers. He succeeded in staying 
 the outbreak of a military revolt, which had been fully ma- 
 tured. The third and fourth Spanish armies, which he saw 
 at Torbes and Mondragon, were on the point of declaring for 
 the Cortes ; when the appeal of their old commander to 
 their loyalty as soldiers, restrained them. Bat matters had 
 proceeded too far to leave any hope of permanent good. 
 The Duke arrived in Madrid on the 24th of May, and was 
 in constant and intimate communication with the King and 
 his ministers, up to the 8th of June. The tone of his cor- 
 respondence, never very sanguine, became more and more 
 desponding as days passed. " Those to whom I have 
 talked," he writes on the 25th of May, " who pretend and 
 ought to know, say that his Majesty will certainly perform 
 the promise made in his decree of the 4th of May, and will 
 give a free constitution to Spain." " I told him" (the Due 
 de San Carlos)', he says on the 1st of June, " that he must 
 expect the King's measures to be attacked and abused in all 
 parts of the world, particularly in England, and that till 
 some steps were taken to prove that the King was inclined 
 to govern the country on liberal principles, and that neces- 
 sity alone had occasioned the violent measures which had 
 attended the revolution, he could not expect much counte- 
 nance i^ England. Nothing, however, has as yet been done,
 
 246 EETURNS HOME. [1814. 
 
 and I hear that nine more persons were imprisioned the 
 night before last." Finally, just before quitting Madrid, 
 after having expressed his views fully on all the questions 
 of home and colonial administration, and on the reorganiza- 
 tion of the army, he writes thus : — " I think there will be 
 no civil war at present." Beyond this his expectations did 
 not go, and even thus far they were by no means either 
 settled or expansive. 
 
 The British army, or a considerable portion of it, still lin- 
 gered at Toulouse ; and in the neighbourhood of Bordeaux a 
 large camp was formed. He saw both sections of the force on 
 his way back to Paris, and took leave of them in a general 
 order. It contrasts, in a remarkable degree, with similar 
 essays from the pen of his great rival ; but it went home, in 
 its simplicity, to the hearts of British soldiers. This done, 
 he pursued his journey ; and after a few days spent in Paris, 
 crossed the Channel, and took the road to London. He 
 had not set foot in England since his embarkation at Ports- 
 mouth in 1809. He had quitted the country a man gener- 
 ally looked up to, surrounded by the halo of Indian vic- 
 toi'ies, a Lieutenant- Greneral, and a Knight of the Bath. 
 He now returned laden with all the honours which a great 
 soldier can acquire ; a Pield Marshal in each of the princi- 
 pal armies of Europe, a Portuguese magnate, a Spanish 
 grandee, and an English duke. His reception by his own 
 countrymen was enthusiastic in the extreme. With diffi- 
 culty he made his way through the crowds which thi'onged 
 the pier at Dover, and clustered round him up to the door 
 of his hotel ; and when, travelling post, he reached West- 
 minster Bridge, the people took the horses from his carriage, 
 and dragijed him throu";h the streets. He was thus con- 
 veyed to Hamilton Place, where the Duchess then resided 
 — the crowd lifting him in their arms when he desired to 
 alight, and scarcely leaving him after the hall door had been 
 opened. Little business was done in London that day, so 
 mad were the inhabitants with joy at the return of him 
 whom they then regarded as the preserver, not of England 
 only, but of Europe. 
 
 The reader will perfectly understand that the Duke's stay
 
 1814.] IN ENGLAXD. 247 
 
 in England, whlcli did not exceed six weeks, was one con- 
 tinued succession of triumphs. In spite of the presence of 
 the Allied Sovereigns and their suites, he was the observed 
 of all observers. The University of Oxford conferred upon 
 him its highest academical honour, the degree of Doctor of 
 Laws. The Lord Mayor and all the corporate bodies of 
 London feasted, and elected him to be a member of their 
 several guUds. The Commons of England stood uncovered 
 while the Speaker conveyed to him, in an address of con- 
 summate eloquence, their thanks. And the Lords received 
 him into their august body as baron, viscount, earl, marquis, 
 and duke, by accumulation. There is not in history a 
 parallel instance of an English subject on whose head have 
 been showered so many tokens of royal and of national 
 gratitude, all bestowed, so to speak, in one day. To say 
 that the Duke of Wellington did not feel such distinction, 
 would be to charge him with a nature less than human. 
 He was overwhelmed, not with the sense of his own merits, 
 but of the nation's gratitude ; and showed by his manner of 
 receiving each fresh mark of respect, as it came, — calm, col- 
 lected, modest, and, therefore, dignified, — that the least 
 prominent feature in the picture thus presented to his view 
 was himself. 
 
 So passed the time till the beginning of August, when the 
 Duke of Wellington set out again for the continent. He 
 was about to represent the British Grovernment at the 
 Court of the Tuileries ; but other duties devolved upon him 
 at the same time, and these he discharged as he went. Bel- 
 gium and Holland, after having been annexed to the French 
 empire, were separated from it again. Instead, however, of 
 restoring the former to Austria, the Congress of Sovereigns 
 determined to erect the two into one kingdom, which might, 
 they persuaded themselves, become, after a while, a barrier 
 on the north to French ambition. But the old frontier fort- 
 resses of Belgium had ceased to exist. The few that sur- 
 vived the reforming propensities of the Emperor Joseph, 
 Napoleon had dismantled ; and it was now to be determined 
 whether, and to what extent, they should be restored. The 
 Duke carefully surveyed the entire line from. Liege, along the
 
 248 RETURNS TO PARIS. [1814. 
 
 IMeuse and the Sambre, to Namur and Charleroi, and thence 
 by Mons and Tournay to the sea. He recommended that 
 most of the fortresses which guard it should be put in a 
 state of defence ; and he selected, in rear of them, positions 
 ■vrhere, in the event of another war, armies might assemble. 
 It is worthy of notice that among the positions so marked 
 out was that of "Waterloo, on which, within less than a year, 
 the fate of Europe was to be determined. But he did more 
 for the Low Countries than this. A strong party in Eng- 
 land, supported by the highest naval authorities, were urgent 
 for the destruction of Antwerp ; on the plea that Antwerp, 
 in the hands of the French, must become, with its works 
 entire, a standing menace to London. The Duke set himself 
 against the adoption of views at once so illiberal and so 
 short-sighted ; and his reasoning prevailed, much to the ad- 
 vantage of the Low Countries, and still more to the honour 
 of his own nation and Government. 
 
 The Duke reached Paris on the 22nd of August, and re- 
 mained there about five months. It was an interval devoted 
 rather to endless details than to the arrangement of great 
 plans, or the confirmation of great principles. He had the 
 battle of the abolition of the slave trade to fight ; and he 
 fought it as gallantly as circumstances would allow. Ques- 
 tions of compensation for private property destroyed during 
 the war came continually before him, and were weighed and 
 discussed with exemplary patience. But his correspondence 
 with the Home Government shows clearly enough that other 
 and graver thoughts were not absent from his mind. He 
 saw, with regret, the growing unpopularity of the Bourbons, 
 and the cause of it. He deprecated their conduct, both to 
 the army and to the people, without, however, attributing 
 either to the French army or the French people virtues 
 which did not belong to them. And already he began to 
 speculate on a probable outbreak. " I believe the truth to 
 be," he says to Lord Bathurst, on the 17th of December, 
 1814, " that the people of this country are so completely 
 ruined by the revolution, and they are now suffering so se- 
 verely from the want of the plunder of the world, that they 
 cannot go on without it ; and they cannot endure the pros-
 
 1814.] HIS LIFE IX PAEIS. 249 
 
 pect of a peaceable government. If this is the case, we 
 should take care how we suffer the grand alliance to break 
 up ; and we ought to look to our alliance with the powers 
 of the Peninsula as our sheet anchor." 
 
 Of the private life of the Duke of Wellington all this 
 while few records remain. He appears to have been joined 
 by the Duchess soon after his arrival in Paris, and occupy- 
 ing the Hotel de Borghese in the Eue Fauburg St Honore, 
 dispensed there a liberal hospitality. By tliis process many 
 acquaintances were formed, and some friendships which lasted 
 till the close of his life ; among the latter of which none de- 
 serves to be more specially noticed than his intimacy with 
 the Eight Hon. Charles Arbuthnot. That gentleman, who 
 had formerly represented England at the Ottoman Court, 
 and held oifice, at a later period, as Chief Commissioner of 
 Woods and Forests, visited Paris in 1814, with his young 
 and accomplished wife. It would be difficult to conceive a 
 greater contrast than was presented by the gentle — I might 
 almost say, the effeminate — manner and turn of mind which 
 characterized one of these gentlemen, to the frank, open, and 
 manly temperament of the other. Tet such was the attach- 
 ment which matured itself between them that, in after years, 
 when both had become widowers, they lived together till Mr 
 Arbuthnot died, at a very advanced age, in the apartments 
 at Apsley House which the Duke had made over to him. 
 
 The Duke's personal habits while representing his Sov- 
 ereign at the Court of the Tuileries differed little from what 
 they had been when, at the head of a great army, he conduct- 
 ed a great and difficult war. He was still an early riser, 
 still dressed with care and simplicity ; was still industrious 
 as a man of business, and lively and affable in general society. 
 His own hounds he had disposed of in England, — they would 
 have been an encumbrance to an ambassador in a foreign 
 country, — but he hunted occasionally with those of the King 
 of France, and seemed to enjoy the sport. It was different 
 from that to which he had been accustomed, for a deer ge- 
 nerally constituted the quarry ; the quarry coming to grief 
 when the run grew slack, by a bullet from the gun of a 
 witty keeper, who always assigned the credit of the shot to the
 
 250 THE DUKE'S HORSES. [1814. 
 
 Due d'Angouleme. For the Due assumed the right of giv- 
 ing the coup de grace, and the keeper, knowing what a 
 wretched shot his Eoyal Highness was, fired at the same 
 time, exclaiming as the animal fell, " Monsieur tire a mer- 
 veille." 
 
 On one of these occasions, but only once, out of compli- 
 ment to French Royalty, the Duke made his appearance at 
 the corner of the cover arrayed in a gold- laced coat, and 
 jack boots, with a cocked hat on his head, and a couteau de 
 chasse at his side. This was at Eambouillet, but as he 
 could not be persuaded to cumber his horse with a velvet 
 saddle and heavy . French trappings, so quaint a figure 
 astride upon a common English hunting-saddle, presented a 
 very comical appearance. Neither the Duke himself, nor 
 any Englishman that day present, could keep his gravity. 
 The Duke never put on the disguise again. 
 
 And here I may mention that the Duke's horses were in 
 those days excellent. He paid large prices for them, and 
 treated them well, yet he was liberal to excess in lending 
 them to such of his young men as could not very well afibrd 
 to mount themselves. He sometimes suffered for this 
 liberality, as the following anecdote will show. The Duke 
 got from England a remarkably fine horse, to which, as it 
 was purchased from a dealer so called, he gave the name of 
 Elmore. He had never ridden the animal, but proposed to 
 do so on a certain occasion, when the Royal hounds were 
 to meet at Versailles. A press of business prevented his 
 fulfilling that intention, and it so happened that Lord 
 William Lennox, being the aide-de-camp in waiting, ought 
 to have remained at home with his chief. The Duke, how- 
 ever, was aware of the young man's passion for hunting, 
 and as Lord William was one of those whom he was in the 
 habit of mounting, he felt doubly reluctant to interfere with 
 the day's sport. When Lord William appeared at the 
 breakfast table, therefore, booted and spurred, the Duke 
 first alarmed him by saying, " No hunting to-day, William, 
 I must write despatches," and then seeing the lad's coun- 
 tenance fall, added with a smile, " But you need not stay, I 
 can do without youj and, by the by, you may as well ride
 
 1814.] ELMORE. 251 
 
 Elmore, only take care of him, because I mean to ride him 
 myself next week." 
 
 Delighted to be set free, and especially gratified by the 
 nature of the mount, Lord William set olF, and went through 
 the day's sport much admired by the field, and greatly to his 
 own satisfoction. But returning quietly in the evening to- 
 wards Paris, Elmore stepped upon some rotten ground, and 
 his rider became immediately aware that the horse was in- 
 jured. Indeed Lord "William was obliged to dismount and 
 lead the animal the rest of the way. Terrified as well as 
 grieved, the boy said nothing about the accident, hoping 
 that it might turn out after all to be a trifle, and that a 
 little skilful treatment would in a day or two bring every- 
 thing right. But it was not so to be. Elmore's case proved 
 to be a bad one, and at the end of a week, when the Duke 
 required him, the secret could no longer be kept. " Well," 
 said the Duke after Lord William had stammered out his 
 confession, " that's rather a bore. Accidents will happen to 
 be sure, and this can't be helped, but it won't do to have all 
 my horses lamed ; so for the future you must confine your- 
 self to the bay mare and the brown gelding, and if you 
 lame these, then you must mount yourself."
 
 252 
 
 CHAPTEE XXVI. 
 
 CONGRESS OF VIENNA RETURN OP NAPOLEON TO FRANCE. 
 
 History has recorded how all this -while a Congress of 
 Sovereigns and their Ministers sat in Vienna, to readjust 
 some, and explain others, of the articles which had been 
 agreed to in the Treaty of Paris. Lord Castlereagh, then 
 minister for Foreign Affairs, represented England at that 
 Congress, till the meeting of Parliament recalled him in 
 January, 1815, to London. The Duke was thereupon re- 
 quired to take his place, and found, on arriving in the Aus- 
 trian capital, that no very good spirit prevailed among the 
 Allies. They had held together tolerably well so long as 
 a common danger threatened, but now having achieved a 
 victory, they quarrelled over the division of the spoil. Be- 
 fore angry words led, however, to blows, tidings of the escape 
 of Napoleon from Elba reached them, and the tempers of the 
 most irritable calmed down in a moment. It was from the 
 Duke of Wellington that the Allied Sovereigns received the 
 first intimation of that event. A grande cliasse in the park 
 near Schonbriin had been arranged, and on the morning of 
 the 7th of April, princes and statesmen mounted and set 
 out. The Duke, when his horse was brought round from 
 the stable, desired it to be taken back again. He had re- 
 ceived letters which must be answered immediately, and 
 could not therefore go with the rest. His letters were im- 
 portant indeed. They came from Lord Burghersh, and 
 announced that the great State Prisoner was at large, 
 and that he was expected from hour to hour to land at
 
 181 5.] NAPOLEON'S RETURN. 253 
 
 jS^aples, where Murat was ready to receive liim. jVapoleon, 
 as is well kBOwn, played for a larger stake. He landed at 
 Frijus, and made at once for Paris. Before liim all op- 
 position went down, and in less than three weeks he was 
 dictating proclamations from the Tiiileries, and the Bour- 
 bons were once more exiles in a foreign land. 
 
 How the Allies bore themselves nnder the circumstances, 
 Avhat manifestoes they issued, and what preparations they 
 made, it is not my business to show. I have to speak of 
 the Duke and of the part that he played in the great oper- 
 ations which followed, and that, too, rather as one who 
 would suggest general ideas than as the chronicler of par- 
 ticular events. He began by being the great adviser on 
 military subjects of those around him. He drew out for 
 them a plan of campaign, specified the number of troops 
 which could be advantageously brought forward on various 
 points, and explained the order and object of their move- 
 ments. His own sphere of action was already settled. He 
 was to proceed, with as little delay as possible, to the Low 
 Countries, where the nucleus of a British army kept guard, 
 and there to assume the command of as many troops as 
 England, and the Kingdom of the United IS'etherlands, 
 could bring together. 
 
 The Duke quitted Vienna on the 29th of March. There 
 were no railroads in those days, and travelling by post, the 
 most expeditious mode then known, appears to us, who have 
 Avell-nigh forgotten how it was conducted, to have been tedi- 
 ous in the extreme. He entei*ed his carriage with only two 
 young men in attendance. Colonel Premantle and Lord 
 William Lennox ; and scarcely alighted till he reached 
 i'rankfort, which was done on the 2nd of April. There a 
 few hours were given to sleep, after which the journey was 
 resumed. Night and day the horses were kept at their best 
 speed, the travellers eating their meals as they passed 
 along, and on the 8th of April Brussels was entered. From 
 that day forth up to the beginning of June the Duke 
 worked as he had often worked before, to remedy blunders 
 for which he was not responsible, and to overtake time 
 which others had allowed to get away from them. He
 
 2.34 IX BELGIUM. [1815. 
 
 worked, too, under disadvantages as grave as tlae worst of 
 those to which in earlier years use had reconciled him. 
 The British troops actually in the Netherlands did not ex- 
 ceed 10,000 men. They consisted chiefly of second battal- 
 ions, the remains of that corps wliich in 1814 had suff"ered 
 so severely at Bergen-op-Zoom, and were scattered in garri- 
 sons through the frontier fortresses, while the Prince of Orange 
 organized a Dutch-Belgian army in their rear. Now the 
 Dutch-Belgians, however individually brave, were as yet very 
 imperfectly drilled. It was more than suspected likewise 
 that of the Belgians at least some were by no means well- 
 afiected. Neither were his prospects at all encouraging 
 when he cast his eyes across the Channel, for almost all his 
 old Peninsular regiments were either in America or still at 
 sea on their way home. 
 
 " I cannot help thinking," he wrote on the 6th of April 
 to Lord Bathurst, " that we are not in a condition to main- 
 tain our military character in Europe. It appears to me 
 that you have not taken in England a clear view of your 
 situation, that you do not think war certain, and that a 
 great efibrt must be made, if it is hoped that it shall be 
 short. Tou have not called out the militia, or announced 
 such an intention in your message to Parliament, by which 
 measure your troops of the line in Ireland and elsewhere 
 might become disposable ; and how we are to make out 
 150,000 men, or even the 60,000 of the defensive part of the 
 Treaty of Chumont, appears not to have been considered. 
 If you coxild let me have 40,000 good British infantry, be- 
 sides those you insist upon having in garrisons, the propor- 
 tion settled by treaty you are to furnish of cavalry, that is 
 to say, the eighth of 150,000 men, including in both the old 
 German legion and 150 pieces of British field artillery, fully 
 horsed, I should be satisfied, and take my chance for the 
 rest, and engage that we should play our part in the game. 
 But as it is, we are in a bad way." 
 
 The 40,000 good British infantry never made their appear- 
 ance, nor were either the 15,000 British cavalry or the 150 
 pieces of well-horsed British field artillery supplied. But 
 Europe was ransacked for mercenary troops, who were found
 
 1815.] THE HOSTILE ARMIES. 255 
 
 on their arrival to be for the most part either recruits or 
 mere militia. His force upon paper, all included, was raised 
 to 105,000 men, of whom 12,402, were cavalry with 
 156 guns. Out of these, however, 26,700 were required to 
 garrison the principal fortresses, leaving only 78,300, inclu- 
 sive of sick and other non-effectives, for the field. And it 
 will be seen by and by that when the day of battle came 
 these 78,300 had dwindled to less than 70,000. He had, 
 however, on his left a stout Prussian army to co-operate with 
 him. To the 30,000 men with which she first took posses- 
 sion of her Ehenish Provinces, Prussia added, on the re-ap- 
 pearance of jN^apoleon, as many as raised her strength in that 
 quarter to 108,000 men, and the ablest of her generals, the gal- 
 lant veteran Field Marshal Prince Bliicher, assumed the 
 command. Between him and the Duke the best under- 
 standing prevailed, and both so posted their troops, that 
 while all the approaches from Prance to Brussels were 
 guarded, the commimications between Belgium and Germany 
 on the one hand, and Brussels and the sea on the other, were 
 kept open. 
 
 The state of Brussels itself, while the clouds of war thus 
 gathered round it, was curious enough. It became a place 
 of resort, not only to the families of British oflB.cers em- 
 ployed with the army in the Netherlands, but to many 
 English ladies and gentlemen to whom residence in a con- 
 tinental city was then a novelty, and who brought with 
 them to their temporary home all the habits of London 
 fashionable life. Dinners, soirees, balls, theatrical perform- 
 ances, were events of nightly occurrence, which no one more 
 promoted, or seemed more heartily to enjoy, than the Duke. 
 Por he was in Planders, as he had been in Portugal, and 
 Spain, and the south of Prance, an extraordinary economist 
 of time. !No point of business, great or small, ever suffered 
 neglect, yet he seemed always to have leisure for social in- 
 tercourse, and mixed in it freely. 
 
 AYhile the Allies were thus mustering their strength, and 
 preparing for a second inroad into Prance, Napoleon, with 
 an energy unparalleled in the history of the world, called 
 forth the might of Prance to resist the invasion. He found
 
 256 NAPOLEON'S TEEPAEATIONS. [1815. 
 
 on his arrival in the Tuileries, 150,000 men under arms ; in 
 tbe course of little more than t^yo mouths he raised the 
 strength of the army to 400,000. All the avenues of approach 
 to tlie capital, from the Pyrenees on one side to the passes 
 of the Jura on the other, were observed ; and the principal 
 fortresses guarding the roads which led from them, armed 
 and garrisoned chiefly with National Guards. His foundries 
 and manufactories of small arms were kept at work day and 
 night. Not that he omitted to appeal to the Sovereigns of 
 Europe in the cause of peace. His letters, especially that 
 addressed to the Prince Regent of England, were master- 
 pieces of eloquence ; yet, having no confidence in the result, 
 he never for a moment intermitted his efforts to meet the 
 storm when it should come. The consequence was, that by 
 the end of May he had, as I have just stated, 400,000 men 
 with their standards, whom he calculated on being able to 
 increase in October to 700,000. But how protract the con- 
 test till October came ? Only by striking rapidly at AVel- 
 lington and Bliicher ; by defeating them in detail, and over- 
 running the Netherlands. It was a bold game to play, yet 
 not entirely desperate. The Belgians were understood to be 
 dissatified with the annexation of their country to Holland ; 
 many of them remembered with regret that they had once 
 been Erench citizens ; not a few, it was understood, were 
 willing to become French citizens again. It appeared, there- 
 fore, to him, that were the English and Prussian armies out 
 of the way, the Netherlands might be reannexed to the Em- 
 pire, and with the resources of these countries added to those 
 of France, he entertained little doubt that he should be able 
 to make head, not unsuccessfully, against an alliance so ill- 
 assorted as he believed that of the other powers to be. 
 
 The tenor of the Duke's correspondence shows that he 
 was not kept in the dark in regard to Napoleon's determin- 
 ation. So early as the 9th of May, he wrote to the Due de 
 Berri in these words : " I have reason to believe that the 
 enemy's force, now assembled at Valenciennes and Maubeugc, 
 is much greater than has been represented to your Royal 
 Highness, and I should not be surprised if we were attacked." 
 And on the 7th of June his instructions to the Grovernors
 
 1S15.] IXSTRUCTIOXS TO GOVERNORS. 2o7 
 
 of the Belgium fortresses began thus : " As soon as the 
 enemy shall have entered the territories of the Low Coun- 
 tries, the under-named places ought to be put in a state of 
 siege." To say that the General, thus aliA^e to all that passed 
 ■within the enemy's lines, was taken by surprise, when the 
 enemy made his advance, is to contradict reason and common 
 sense. It was the Duke's design, deliberately formed, not 
 to move a man, till the plans of his opponent should develope 
 themselves. He might hesitate, to the last, to accept it as 
 a settled matter, that Napoleon would begin the war by in- 
 vading Belgium. His letter to the Emperor of Austria, 
 written on the 15th of June, which suggests a policy for the 
 adoption of the Allies after they should have entered France, 
 makes no allusion whatever to any probable attack upon 
 himself; and on the 12th of May, he wrote to Sir Henry 
 Wellesley, as if such a measure could scarcely be attempted. 
 But not the less certain is it, that to a blow delivered where 
 it was not expected to fall, he never laid himself open. It 
 would have been foreign to his nature to overlook, or treat 
 lightly, any possible contingency of war. He was the most 
 perfect chess-playei', in this respect, that ever handled men. 
 
 17
 
 258 
 
 CHAPTEE XXVIL 
 
 DISPOSITIONS OF THE ALLIED ARMIES BATTLES OF LIGNT AND 
 
 QUATRE-BRAS — RETREAT OF THE ENGLISH TO WATERLOO 
 
 BATTLE OF WATERLOO THE DUKE ON THE FIELD. 
 
 It was now the 15tli of June. The Prussian army lay 
 along the left bank of the Sambre. Greneral Ziethen's corps 
 held the rij^jht, communieatino: from Charleroi with the left 
 of the English, while General Bulow at Liege, stood on the 
 extreme left. Between these two points were the corps of 
 Pirch and Thielman, the former at Namur, the latter at 
 Ciney. It Avas arranged that, in case of attack in this direc- 
 tion, a general movement should be made towards the right ; 
 and a position taken up between Grosselies and Eleurus ; 
 while the Duke, inclining to his left, was to come into com- 
 munication with Bliicher, by the Quatre-Bras road. If, on 
 the other hand, the attack should fall on the English, Eng- 
 lish and Prussians were to concentrate at Waterloo, the 
 country round which the Duke had carefully surveyed. The 
 roads from the Erench frontier to Brussels, by the valley of 
 the Sambre and the IMeuse, having been broken up, the Duke 
 arrived at the conclusion that through the approaches by 
 the valleys of the Scheldt and the Deuder, the storm when 
 it came would burst. He paid particular attention, there- 
 fore, to the defences of Ghent, and kept, to the last moment, 
 a strong corps in observation at Hall, under Prince Eerdi- 
 nand of the ^Netherlands. 
 
 The 15th passed at Brussels in perfect quiet. Intelli- 
 gence came in from Charleroi, at seven that morning, that
 
 1815.J HOSTILITIES BEGUX. 259 
 
 the fires of numerous bivouacs Tvere seen the previous night 
 to blaze up suddenly, and that in the morning the outposts 
 at Lobbes and Thuin had been attacked. But no further 
 tidings followed, and the Duke naturally assumed that this 
 was a feint to cover some serious operations elsewhere. 
 Except therefore by issuing orders that all his divisions 
 should be ready to march at a moment's notice, he took no 
 special notice of the circumstance. 
 
 There was to be a ball on the night of the 15th, at the 
 lodgings of the Duchess of Richmond ; and the Prince of 
 Oi'ange came in from Braine-le-Comte to dine with the Duke, 
 and to be present at it. He arrived about three in the 
 afternoon, and reported, that the Prussians had been warm- 
 ly engaged in and about Charleroi. It was the first in- 
 timation of that important fact which the Duke had re- 
 ceived, and while he yet hesitated whether to accept it as 
 authentic, General Miifiling, the Prussian Commissioner at 
 the English head-quarters, entered and confirmed the state- 
 ment. An orderly dragoon, it appeared, whom General 
 Ziethen had early sent ofl:' to announce to the Duke the 
 commencement of hostilities, had lost his way ; and but for 
 the delivery of despatches from Prince Bliicher to General 
 Muffling, it is impossible to guess when the true state of the 
 case might have been made known. 
 
 Calm, and even gentle, whenever dangers gathered round 
 him, the Duke imjjressed upon his guests the necessity of 
 keeping what they knew to tliemselves. He advised them 
 also to go, as they had j)reviously iutended, to the Duchess's 
 ball, and himself made ready to accompany them. Before 
 sitting down to dinner, however, he drew up orders, clear, 
 distinct, and explicit, for the march of the three distant 
 divisions of the army to the left. " They moved that even- 
 ing and in the uight, each division, and portion of a divi- 
 sion, separately ; the whole being protected on the march 
 by the defensive works constructed at the difierent points 
 referred to, and by their garrisons."* 
 
 These orders, issued between four and five in the after- 
 noon, dii'ected only the outlying divisions of the two advanced 
 * Memoraudum in the Duke's haudwriting. 
 17 *
 
 260 THE RESERVE IN MOTIOX. [1815. 
 
 corps, commanded respectively by the Prince of Orange 
 and Lord Hill, to shift their ground. All the rest were 
 instructed to assemble and to be in readiness. At ten the 
 same night, however, the enemy's movements had sufficient- 
 ly disclosed his intention ; and the whole army, with the 
 exception of the reserve, was put in motion. It marched by 
 various roads upon Quatre-Bras. Meanwhile in Brussels 
 itself no signs of agitation or alarm Avere manifested. The 
 reserve stood to their arms after night-fall in the park, and 
 the salons of the Duchess of Richmond echoed to the sounds 
 of music and dancing. Gayest among the gay, the Duke 
 was there, remaining till past midnight, when he quietly 
 withdrew, changed his dress, and mounted his horse. Then 
 might be heard in the streets the tramp of columns, the 
 clatter of horses' hoofs, and the roll of artillery. The re- 
 serve was in motion ; and one by one the officers, who had 
 shared in the festivities of the night, stole away. They 
 hurried off each to his own corps, and were in action a few 
 hours subsequently, many of them in their ball dresses. 
 
 There occurred at that ball an incident, trifling in itself, but 
 which, because it indicated the Duke's entire perception of 
 Avhat was about to happen, seems to demand notice. After 
 wishing the Duchess good-night, he approached the Duke of 
 Hichmond, and said in a low voice, " Have you a good map 
 of the country in the house ? " An answer was given in the 
 affirmative, whereupon the two gentlemen adjourned to the 
 Duke of Eichmond's bed-room, and there the map was pro- 
 duced. The Duke of Wellington examined it and said, 
 " Buonaparte has gained a day's march on me, I have ar- 
 ranged to meet him at Quatre-Bras. If I am not able to 
 stop him there, I will fight him here" making at tlie same 
 time a mark with his thumb-nail at AVaterloo. No more 
 passed between them. The Duke of Richmond returned to 
 his guests, and the Duke of "Wellington rode off to carry 
 into execution the simple plan thus set fortli. 
 
 I have told clsewliere, and otlier historians liavc told 
 also, how Napoleon concentrated 120,000 men in front of 
 Charleroi, hoping before the Allies could cover them to seize 
 the two strategic points of Quatre-Bras and Sombruffe. In
 
 1815.] ACTION AT QUATRE-BRAS. 261 
 
 this lie failed tlirougli tlie loss of a day upon the march, 
 which enabled the Prince of Orange to occupy the former 
 post, while Bliicher succeeded in collecting 80,000 men, and 
 placing them so as to secure the latter. The force under 
 the command of the Prince of Orange was, however, very 
 small, scarcely exceeding 6000 men. Had he been attacked 
 with vigour early on the 16th his post must have been car- 
 ried. Bat Napoleon's attention was directed mainly towards 
 the Prussians, on whom he fell with great fury, leaving Ney 
 with 17,000 men and 38 guns to dispose of the Prince of 
 Orange. The Prussians, as is well known, sustained a de- 
 feat. Routed they were not, for they withdrew after night- 
 fall in good order, but they had decidedly the worst of the 
 battle. Meanwhile the Prince of Orange with difficulty 
 maintained himself till reinforcements arrived. There was 
 a hard day's fighting with varied success, which extended 
 into the night ; but by this time the Anglo-Belgian divi- 
 sions were got well together, and they remained masters of 
 the field, and of some ground in advance of it. All this 
 the general historian will tell more at length ; let me speak 
 rather of the Duke of AVellington, and of his sayings and 
 doings while great events were in progress. 
 
 Setting out from Brussels at a very early hou.r on the 
 16th, he reached Quatre-Bras about noon, and found that 
 the Prince of Orange's corps had already been engaged, 
 though not seriously. The pickets were driven in, and the 
 enemy seemed to be collecting in masses for a more deter- 
 mined onset. Having suggested a few changes in the dis- 
 position of the troops, the Duke rode over to confer with 
 Bliicher. He found the Prussian army ranged along the 
 outer brow of a series of heights, which extended from St 
 Amand to SombrofFe, and in front of which, in the valley be- 
 low, ran the Ligny rivulet. The Duke was not satisfied 
 with what he saw, and being appealed to, assigned his reasons, 
 though in terms, as was usual with him, calculated to spare 
 rather than to wound the feelings of his colleague. " Are 
 you not very much exposed here ? I should have placed 
 my men on the other side of the ridge, and kept them shel- 
 tered from the enemy's artillery tiU they were needed."
 
 262 RETREAT OF THE RRUSSIAXS. [1815. 
 
 " My men," replied Bliicher, " like to see the enemy with 
 ■n-hom they are going to fight." The Duke said no more, 
 but while cantering back to Quatre-Bras, observed to those 
 about him, " If Buonaparte be Avhat I suppose he is, the 
 Prussians will get a d — d good licking to-day." The conse- 
 quence of this impression was a slight change of plan, 
 settled between the chiefs before they parted ; and an agree- 
 ment that they should henceforth communicate by the 
 Namur road, the English standing fast at Quatre-Bras 
 throughout the day. 
 
 The Prussians retired, as has been said, without confusion 
 after nightfoll. They took the road to Wavre. It was a 
 route which Napoleon never expected them to follow, and 
 hence G-rouchy, whom he sent in pursuit, took at first a 
 wrong direction. Meanwhile the English, after successfully 
 resisting every attack, lay down on the ground where they had 
 fought. The Duke slept beside his men, though not till by 
 the light of the bivouac fire he had skimmed through a 
 whole bundle of English newspapers which reached him soon 
 after dark. He was in excellent spirits, and chatted freely 
 about the gossip of London. Through his glass he had 
 been able to watch the progress of the battle of Ligny, and 
 had seen the famous cavalry charge in which Bliicher was 
 unhorsed. But the tm-n which things took appeared to 
 create in him not the slightest uneasiness. " Well, Alava," 
 he exclaimed, as his faithful S})anish follower approached, 
 " were you at the Duchess of liichmond's ball last night ? " 
 General Alava has left it upon record that this brief address 
 fell upon his ear like music. He too had seen the defeat 
 of the Prussians, and fearing that matters looked black, was 
 a little at a loss how to approach the Duke. But the moment 
 the Duke spoke his confidence returned. And here let me 
 notice, that General Alava, having been attached to the 
 Duke's head-quarters when the British army broke up from 
 the lines at Torres Vedras, never qiiitted liim afterwards. 
 I have met him often at Walmer Castle, and believed, from 
 his manner, that he was prepared to follow the Duke's for- 
 tunes to the end of his days. But he was then in exile as a 
 Constitutionalist. By and by, when the revolution occurred,
 
 1815.] THE DUKE IN BIYOUAC. 263 
 
 vliicli set aside the Salic law in Spain, General Alava attach- 
 ed himself to the party of the Queen, and running into 
 ultra-liberalism, broke with the Duke at the period of our 
 own Heform Bill, not, as the Duke's friends alleged, in the 
 most becoming manner. The Duke used to say of him 
 " that he was the only man living who had taken part in 
 the greatest naval as well as the greatest military action of 
 modern times;" for Alava served in the Sanctissima Trinidada 
 at Trafalgar against the English, and rode beside the Duke 
 at the battle of Waterloo against the French. 
 
 Alava's confidence was not misplaced, for the Duke had 
 made arrangements in his own mind to meet every possible 
 contingency. He received throughout the night more than 
 one report of what the Prussians were doing ; and at early 
 dawn on the 27th sent a cavalry patrol to reconnoitre. 
 After a brief absence, the patrol returned with tidings that 
 not a Prussian was anywhere to be seen. But the Duke 
 distrusted the correctness of the statement, and calling to 
 him Colonel Gordon, his aide-de-camp, desired him to take 
 a strong escort, and not to come back till he had found out 
 something. Colonel Gordon executed his commission well, 
 and finding General Ziethen still upon the ground (for 
 Ziethen's corps formed the rear-guard of the Prussian army), 
 learned from him exactly by what route Bliicher was retir- 
 ing. " Tell the Duke of AVellington," said Ziethen, " that 
 if he will hold to our agreement, and accept a battle at 
 Mont St Jean, he shall not long be left to fight alone." 
 
 Instructed on these points, the Duke remained at Quatre- 
 Bras till three o'clock in the afternoon, giving Bliicher thereby 
 ample time to perfect his arrangements. Why he was not 
 assailed early in the day by the whole Prench army has 
 never been explained. At last, however, the enemy began to 
 advance in force, whereupon the Duke drew off"; and with 
 consummate skill and in perfect order marched vipon the 
 position of Waterloo. His cavalry, which covered this move- 
 ment, was more than once engaged with the enemy, pai'ticu- 
 larly on the further side of Genappes, where the Prench 
 suffered severely ; but except thus, and by occasional dis- 
 charges of artillery, no attempt was made to hurry or im-
 
 2G4 MORNING OF THE 18tii OF JUNE. [1815. 
 
 pede his retreat. Under a furious storm of rain and thun- 
 der the British troops took up their ground, and slept 
 throucrhout the night between the 17th and 18th of June 
 where on the morrow not a few of them were destined to 
 sleep the sleep that knows no waking. The Duke estab- 
 lished his head-quarters in the village of Waterloo. He 
 ate a hearty dinner, or rather supper, and went early to bed. 
 At two in the morning of the 18th he was up, and after 
 shaving and dressing with his usual care, sat down to his 
 desk, with a couple of candles burning beside him. He 
 wrote cheerfully to Sir Charles Stuart, then minister at Brus- 
 sels : " Pray keep the English quiet if you can. Let them 
 all prepare to retire, but neither be in a hurry or a fright, 
 as all will yet turn out well/' He communicated his wishes 
 to the Due de Berri at Ghent, concluding his letter in these 
 remarkable words : " I hope, and indeed have every reason 
 to believe, that all will turn oiit well." And he gave orders 
 to the Grovernor of Antwerp to consider that fortress in a 
 state of siege ; but at the same time to give free admission, 
 not alone to the royal family of France, but to the families 
 of Englishmen, or of men of any other nation who might 
 consider it judicious to flee from Brussels. This done, he 
 breakfasted, mounted his horse, and rode out to see that his 
 troops were in their proper places. It did not appear from 
 his manner at the moment — his subsequent conversa- 
 tion never showed — that he entertained graver apprehen- 
 sions of the issues of the coming battle than of any other 
 in which he had been previously engaged. Yet the spec- 
 tacle on which his eye fell, when he gained the crest of his 
 own position, was, to say the least, an imposing one. 
 
 Spread over a range of heights, facing his own, with the 
 chateau of Belle Alliance conspicuous in the midst, lay 
 71,9-17 French troops, all men of one nation, all accustomed 
 to war, and all imbued with the fullest confidence in the 
 skill and fortune of their commander. Of these, 15,765 were 
 superb cavalry, and 246 guns supported them. As yet, how- 
 ever, they presented the appearance of an army still in 
 bivouac. And hour after hour stole on, greatly to the 
 Duke's surprise, without producing any visible index of
 
 1815.] BATTLE. 265 
 
 change. But about ten o'clock the drums and trumpets 
 spoke out ; and promptly, but with perfect deliberation, 
 columns of attack were formed. There was no mistaking 
 the object of this formation. Clouds of skirmishers soon 
 ran out, and the battle began. 
 
 I am not going to tell here what I have told already over 
 and over again, how the battle of Waterloo was fought. It 
 was a stern meeting between 71,947 brave men on one side, 
 all homogeneous and confident in their leader, and 67,G55 on 
 the other ; the latter a motley host made up of Belgians, 
 Dutchmen, Brunswickers, Hanoverians, the troops of Nas- 
 sau, and though last, not least, of 22,000 British soldiers. 
 The brunt of the action fell, as was to be expected, on the 
 English and the gallant German Legion. The English held 
 Hougoumont throughout the clay ; the Germans lost the 
 farm-house of La Haye, though not till after a desperate 
 resistance and the expenditure of all their ammunition. In 
 the line, which extended from Hougoumont to Brain- 
 r Alcad, the various nations were much intermixed ; but 
 while the English, the Germans, and the Dutch kept their 
 ground, the others for the most part gave way, and were not 
 without difficulty rallied in a second line, which never came 
 imder fire. The battle was a defensive one on the side of 
 the Anglo-Belgians all day long. The Duke fought to keep 
 Napoleon at bay, till Bliicher should be able to join in the 
 melee. Napoleon strove to break through and disperse the 
 English, before time was given for the Prussians to come up. 
 He threw his columns, now of infantry, now of cavalry, now 
 of cavalry and infantry combined, on the right, on the centre, 
 and partially on the left of the English position. He poured 
 upon the position and the troops which held it, the sus- 
 tained fire of 246 guns, to which from the side of the Allies 
 156 guns replied. But he gained no advantage. Twice his 
 horsemen crowned the ridge and rode about infantry squares 
 "which they never succeeded in breaking, and twice the 
 charge of the English cavalry drove them back. The 
 slaughter on both sides was terrific, but the final issues of 
 the battle seem never to have been doubtful. 
 
 The personal bearing of the Duke was throughout the
 
 266 THE DUKE IN THE FIELD. [1815 
 
 day the admiration of ali who witnessed it. He came upon 
 the ground about seven in the morning, and never once dis- 
 mounted from his horse till after dark. He was on no sin- 
 gle occasion, as it seemed, in a hurry, yet always prompt to 
 apply a remedy to whatever mistake or failure occurred. 
 In arranging his troops for the struggle he put into the 
 park and enclosures about Hougoumont the same Nassau 
 battalions which had come over from the French in Decem- 
 ber, 1814. The chateau itself was filled with guardsmen. 
 " I placed the Nassau battalions there," he used to say in 
 after years, " because having often encountered us before, 
 and knowing what we were worth, I took it for granted that 
 they would behave as well beside us as they used to do when 
 opposed to us. I soon found out my mistake. Like the 
 rest of the continental troojJs, they had learned to believe 
 Napoleon irresistible, and no sooner saw the enemy bear- 
 ing down upon them than they began to waver. It was this 
 which induced me at the last moment to withdraw them, 
 and to supply their place with a battalion of the Guards." 
 
 It has often been stated — and Captain G-ronow in his 
 amusing volume repeats the statement — that in the course 
 of the battle the Duke took shelter from the enemy's 
 cavalry within one or more of the English squares. The 
 Duke always denied that he had been driven to this extrem- 
 ity. He moved about as occasion required from point to 
 point, but his principal station was near a tree on the brow 
 of the hill which overhangs Hougoumont and La Haye, and 
 whence a clear view of the whole field of battle could be ob- 
 tained. The tree was riddled with shot, and once the fire di- 
 rected towards it came so heavily, that several officers re- 
 monstrated with him for continuing to expose himself as he 
 did. On that occasion he moved a little on one side, and 
 the fire grew slack. "Whether Napoleon had seen him, and 
 directed this heavy fire to be turned upon him, I do not 
 know. The contingency is by no means impossible, for such 
 appears to have been his usual practice. Indeed it was 
 thus that at the battle of Dresden, when the Emperor of 
 Russia, surrounded by a numerous staiT, attracted his atten- 
 tion, he became the direct means of killing Moreau. He
 
 1815.] HIS COXSIDERATIOX. 267 
 
 was standing beside a couple of guns wlaen the group at- 
 tracted his attention, and himself desired the officer in charge 
 to " throw a shot or two into the covey." The first shot 
 took no efiect, but Moreau, riding up to speak to the Em- 
 peror just as the second gun was pointed, and the Emperor 
 reining back at the same time, the ball struck Moreau's 
 horse, killing the animal, and carrying off both legs of the 
 rider. Napoleon rejoiced at the occurrence. The Duke's 
 view of matters was very different. " There's Buonaparte, 
 sir," exclaimed an artillery oflScer whose guns the Duke had 
 approached, " I think I can reach him, may I fire ? " " No, 
 no," replied the Duke, " Grenerals commanding armies have 
 something else to do than to shoot at one another." 
 
 The casualties among the Duke's personal staff on the day 
 of Waterloo proved very great. One after another they 
 were borne from the field either killed or desperately wounded, 
 till he was left without a single staff-ofi[icer to carry a mes- 
 sage. 
 
 There chanced, however, to be near him a brave young 
 Swiss gentleman — a Count de Salis — who had chosen to fol- 
 low the Duke that day to the field. The Duke turned to 
 him, and apologizing for the act, requested him to be the 
 bearer of an order to Sir James Kempt. The order was 
 carried through a storm of fire, and punctually obeyed. 
 Another story of the same sort I have heard, but only since 
 the Duke's death. I cannot therefore vouch for its authenti- 
 city, but it comes within the range of more than probability, 
 and I may as well relate it. 
 
 The Duke was quite alone, and a portion of his cavalry, 
 too eager in pursuit, was in imminent danger. He looked 
 round for an aide-de-camp whom he might send with orders 
 to bring up some support, but the only mounted person near 
 was a gentleman in plain clothes. " "Would you be afraid to 
 ride to the front ? " asked the Duke, calmly. " Ton see 
 that group of horsemen there," pointing towards a brigade 
 of cavalry which was halted. " I want them to move on. 
 Would you object to carry my message ? " " No, your 
 Grace," was the answer, " provided you will make a written 
 note of what you want, because I might mistake, not being
 
 268 HIS PROCEEDING IX THE BATTLE. [I8I0. 
 
 of your Grace's trade." " True, true," answered the Duke, 
 with a smile, and then taking a piece of paper out of his 
 pocket, he wrote upon it with a pencil, and gave it to the 
 civilian. The civilian galloped off. The Duke saw him pass 
 through a line of heavy fire and reach the cavalry brigade, 
 which moved as he had wished it to do ; but he saw his mes- 
 senger no more. The natural conclusion was that the poor 
 fellow had been killed, and probably the Duke never thought 
 of him again. But several years afterwards, having occasion 
 to enter a shop in the city, he saw behind the counter a face 
 which appeared to be familiar to him. After looking for a 
 while at the individual, he said, " Surely I have seen you 
 before. Tou are not the man who carrried a message for 
 me at Waterloo, are you?" "I am, indeed, your Grace." 
 " And why the devil didn't you come back, that I might 
 have thanked you, and given you in my despatches the praise 
 that you deserved ? " " To tell your Grace the truth, I had had 
 enough of it. I felt that I had no business there, and did 
 not quite know wliere to find you again. Nor was I at all 
 anxious to ride a second time through that shower of bullets. 
 So having escaped unhurt, I turned my horse's head towards 
 Brussels, and got back to England as fast as I could." 
 
 If all this really passed, the Duke must have been both 
 interested and amused by it, but as I never heard him ad- 
 vert to the circumstance, I give the anecdote on no better 
 authority than that which gave it to me. 
 
 Among others whom he encountered on the field were 
 tbe Duke of Eichmond, and his son. Lord William Lennox. 
 The latter, poor fellow, had met with an accident before the 
 campaign opened, and was rendered therefore incaj^able of 
 discharging his duties as aide-de-camp. The former, an old 
 and gallant soldier, could not be within hearing of a cannon- 
 ade, yet resist the temptation of getting into it. Upon 
 both the Duke of Wellington, when he met them, looked 
 grave. " William, you ought to be in bed. Duke, you 
 have no business here." The Duke of Richmond and his 
 sick son acknowledged the justice of the rej)roof, aiul re- 
 turned to Brussels. 
 
 The Duke had received during: the night of the 17th
 
 1815.] OVERTHEOW OF THE FRENCH. 269 
 
 several communications from Blucber. He expected the 
 arrival of the Prussians, therefore, some hours before they 
 made their appearance, and not unnaturally turned his glass 
 more than once in the direction whence they were to come. 
 Except, however, some cavalry which showed itself at day- 
 break on the 18th upon the ground in front of Ohain and 
 therefore past the defile which separated the two armies, 
 none appeared till late in the day. Still the Duke's confi- 
 dence never forsook him. The French had delivered their 
 last and fiercest attack. It was met and thrown back in all 
 quarters, and the confusion which prevailed in the ranks of 
 the beaten army showed that the day was lost to them. 
 Whether the Duke, if no Prussians had been near, would 
 have assumed the ofl"ensive just then is uncertain. But at 
 the critical moment Bulow's corps entered into the battle, 
 and a heavy firing in the direction of Planchenois indicated 
 how the battle was going. Then the word was passed along 
 the brow of the English heights to close the ranks of regi- 
 ments and advance. Then down the slope swept infantry and 
 cavalry, while from the high ground behind the artillery 
 continued to fire, and the last touch was given, by British 
 and Pi'ussian troops meeting upon the field, to the most 
 complete and decisive victory which the world ever saw. 
 
 I cannot better close this chapter than by transcribing 
 from the Duke's memoranda, which the reader will find at 
 length in the larger edition of this work, the following sen- 
 tences. 
 
 " The allied armies communicated with each other 
 throughout the night of the 17th of June, and the cavalry 
 of General Bulow's Prussian corps of Marshal Prince 
 Bliicher's army was on the ground in front of Ohain, 
 through the defile between the positions of the two armies, 
 at daybreak on the morning of the 18th. Thus, then, it 
 appears that after the affairs at Ligny and Quatre-Bras the 
 two allied armies were collected, each on its own ground, in 
 the presence of the enemy, having a short and not diflicult 
 communication between them ; each of them in presence of 
 the enemy, and between the enemy and Brussels ; all their 
 communications with England, Holland, and Germany, and
 
 270 THE DUKE'S MEMORANDUM. [1815. 
 
 all the important political interests committed to their 
 charp;e, being secure." 
 
 •' The first thing heard of the operations of Marshal 
 Bliicher's army was a report, brought from the left of the 
 army under the Duke of AVellington, at about six o'clock in 
 the evening, that at that moment the smoke of the fire of 
 artillery could be perceived at a great distance beyond the 
 right of the enemy's army, "which firing was supposed at 
 that time to be at Planchenois. 
 
 " The report of the battle, made at the time by the Duke 
 of Wellington to the British and Allied Governments of 
 Europe, has long been before the public. In that report he 
 does full justice to the exertions made by his colleague, the 
 Prussian commander-in-chief, and by the general ofl&cers 
 and troops, to aid and support liim, and to the effectual aid 
 which they gave him. He states no details, excepting that 
 the battle was terminated by an attack which he determined 
 to make upon the enemy's position, in whicli he does not 
 report that any Prussian troops joined, because, in point of 
 fact, none were in that part of the field of battle. He states, 
 however, that the enemy's troops retired from the last at- 
 tack upon his position in great confusion, and that the 
 march of General Bulow's corps by Prishermont upon 
 Planchenois and La Belle Alliance, had begun to take 
 effect ; and as he could perceive the fire of his cannon, and 
 as Marshal Prince Bliicher, with a corps of his army, had 
 touched the left of our line by Ohain, he determined upon 
 the attack, which succeeded in every point." 
 
 I
 
 271 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 fall of paris army of occupation attempts on the 
 
 duke's life. 
 
 It was late in tlie eveniBg when the grand advance of 
 the English line took place. Darkness was settling fast 
 over the field of battle, and still the firing continued. The 
 Erench, broken and dispersed, either threw away their 
 arms and fled, or fought for dear life in groups against pur- 
 suers, some of whom gave no quarter. Conspicuous in 
 front of his o'vvn line rode the Duke, and when the enemy 
 broke at last and fled, he mixed, as night closed in, with 
 the skirmishers, and could not be restrained. " Ton have 
 no business here, sir," said one of his followers. " We are 
 getting into enclosed ground, and your life is too valuable 
 to be thrown away." " Never mind," replied the Duke, 
 " let them fire away. The battle's won ; my life is of no 
 consequence now." Thus indifferent to the thousand risks 
 which surrounded him, he pushed on, and drew bridle only 
 when he and Bliicher met at the Maison du Eoi. Here it 
 was arranged that the Prussians, who had fallen in upon 
 the same road with the English, should continue the p\ir- 
 suit. Eor though the Duke made arrangements to support 
 them with part of his troops, these proved to be so com- 
 pletely exhausted by the fatigues of battle, that they could 
 not go on. A halt was therefore ordered midway between 
 Eossomme and GenapjDes. 
 
 Erom that point the Duke rode slowly home, in clear 
 moonlight, and alone. Scarcely one of his old companions
 
 272 AFTER THE BATTLE. [181-5. 
 
 through the war of the Peninsula remained to cheer him 
 with his congratulations. Colonel De Lancy, his Quarter- 
 master-General, had received a mortal wound; Major- 
 General Barnes, his Adjutant- General, was wounded also ; 
 Lieutenant-Colonel Fitzroy Somerset, his faithful and at- 
 tached Military Secretary, had lost an arm, and been carried 
 to Brussels. Of his aides-de-camp, two. Colonel the Hon- 
 ourable Alexander Gordon and Lieutenant-Colonel Can- 
 ning, were both struck down. The latter died on the spot ; 
 the former only survived to learn from the chief whom he 
 had long served and dearly loved, that the battle was won. 
 Indeed the losses that day to England, and to the best blood 
 of England, were terrible. Lord Uxbridge, struck by one 
 of the last shots fired, suffered the amputation of a limb. 
 Picton, the hero of a hundred fights, went whither his glory 
 could not follow him. But it would be vain to attempt to 
 particularize, one by one, the brave who purchased with 
 their blood that day a renown which can never perish. The 
 authentic lists of killed and wounded showed a grand total, 
 on the side of the Allies, of 23,185. Out of this enormous 
 multitude the English alone lost 11,678 ; the JN^etherlanders, 
 3178 ; the Brunswickers, 687 ; the troops of Nassau, 643 ; 
 the Prussians, 6999. The loss of the French is not quite 
 so easily determined. According to Colonel Charras it 
 amounted to 31,000 or 32,000. Napoleon reckons it at 
 23,000 only ; of these 7000 Avere prisoners. If we include 
 the casualties which befell in the pursuit, it was probably 
 40,000 at the least. 
 
 The Duke reached his head-quarters at "Waterloo about 
 ten o'clock at night. He had ridden the same horse all day, 
 yet such was the spirit of the animal, that on his master 
 dismounting, he kicked out in play, and well-nigh struck 
 the Duke. The Duke entered, and found his dinner pre- 
 pared with as much regularity as if the cook had expected 
 him home from a review. He eat little, and eat in silence : 
 indeed grief for the fallen, and anxious thoughts about their 
 relatives, quite broke him down. " I cannot express to you," 
 he wrote to Lord Aberdeen, " the regret and sorrow with 
 which I look round me, and contemplate the loss which I 
 
 A
 
 181.5.] THE DUKE'S GPJEF FOR TEE FALLEN. 27.3 
 
 have sustained, particularly in your brother. The glory re- 
 sulting from such actions, so dearly bought, is no consola- 
 tion to me ; and I cannot suggest it as any to you and to 
 his friends." In the same spirit he expressed himself when 
 communicating Avith the Duke of Beaufort. " You are 
 aware how useful your brother has always been to me, and 
 liow much I shall feel the want of his assistance, and what a 
 regard and aifection I feel for him, and you will readily be- 
 lieve how much concerned I am for his misfortune. Indeed, 
 the losses I have sustained have quite broke me down, and 
 I have no feeling for the advantages I have acquired." 
 
 The Duke retired to bed, worn out with fatigue and ex- 
 citement. He slept till an hour which was late for him, 
 that is to say, at seven next morning Dr Hume arrived to 
 make his report, and found that his chief was not yet stir- 
 ring. Having waited till eight, Dr Hume took it upon 
 him to knock at the bed-room door, and being desired to 
 enter he did so. The Duke sat up in his bed. He was 
 undressed, but had neither washed nor shaved over-night. 
 His face was therefore black with the dust and powder of 
 the great battle, and in that plight he desired the chief of 
 his medical staff to make his report. Dr Hume read on ; 
 but becoming himself deeply affected, he stopped as if to 
 di'aw breath, and looked up. The tears were running from 
 the Duke's eyes, making furrows and channels for them- 
 selves through the grime upon his cheek. " Go on," he 
 said, " go on, for Grod's sake, go on. Let me hear it all. 
 This is terrible." Dr Hume finished his paper, and with- 
 drew, leaving his great chief in an agony of distress. 
 
 In less than an hour the great Duke was in his business 
 room giving directions about the future movements of the 
 army, as if nothing extraordinary had happened ; and long 
 before noon he was on his way, at a sharp pace, tow^ards 
 Brussels. 
 
 I pass by all that immediately followed, as described wnth 
 sufficient minuteness in the larger edition of this Biography. 
 The proclamation that was issued ere the march to Paris 
 began — the march itself — with all its attendant circum- 
 stances — the fall of the fortresses, One by one, with or 
 
 18
 
 274 IN TARIS. [1815. 
 
 without some show of resistance, and the surrender of the 
 I'rench capital upon capitulation,- — these things are recorded 
 where all who are curious in such details can easily find 
 them. So also is the narrative of Napoleon's attemjited 
 escape and of his reception on board the British ship of 
 ■war Bellerophon. So also the tale of Bliicher's steru deal- 
 ings with the Parisians ; and of the skill and tact with 
 which the Duke softened him into a policy of forbearance. 
 I may observe, however, in passing, that while these things 
 went on, and for some time afterwards, when the Allied 
 Sovereigns and their suites swarmed in Paris, it was to the 
 Duke that the Parisians looked as their great protector, 
 whose praise could not be sufficiently in their mouths. But 
 a change came by degrees over the spirit of their dream. 
 The Allies began to demand back for their respective coun- 
 tries the spoil which in the composition of 1814 they had 
 unwisely permitted to remain with the spoiler. The Duke 
 was appealed to by the French Grovernment to protect the 
 Louvre, and to hinder works of art from being removed ; 
 and on his refusal to commit such a gross act of injustice, 
 popular feeling turned against him. The truth is, that all 
 the flattery heaped upon him when he saved the Bridge of 
 Jena and the Austerlitz Column from destruction was mere 
 lip-service. The marshals hated him ; so did the King, and 
 in a very intensified degree so did the other members of the 
 Royal family. They could not forgive or forget the fact 
 that in humbling Prance he had acted like an honest man. 
 And thus it came to pass that as soon as he ceased to be their 
 tool they turned upon him. He was pronounced far more to 
 blame for the plunder of Paris than anybody else. After 
 signing the capitulation he now openly and ostentatiously 
 broke through its conditions. He consented to the plunder 
 of the galleries and museums, which he had undertaken to 
 protect. No good Prenchman could hereafter remain on 
 terms of common acquaintance with such a man ; no good 
 Prenchman did. One day, to his great surprise, he received 
 a note from the Due Duras, declining in a very curt mamier 
 to dine with him. The Duke was surprised, inquired into,
 
 1815.J THE FRENCH MARSHALS. 275 
 
 and ascertained the true state of the case, and returned the 
 following answer : — 
 
 " M. le Due, 
 
 " I have had the honour to receive your letter, without 
 date, in which you return to me a note which you consider 
 to be an invitation to dinner ' in a somewhat royal style.' 
 In reply, I beg of you to believe that the note was not in- 
 tended for you, and I offer you a thousand excuses for its 
 having been mis-sent. It does not contain an invitation to 
 dinner in a royal or any other style, but merely a promise 
 to dine with some one on the 28th. That some one is the 
 Due d'Otrante ; and I very much regret that my secretary 
 should have mistaken your name for that of the individual 
 who wrote to me, proposing that I should dine with him. 
 Such is the true history of this invitation to dinner' in a 
 somewhat royal style.' I send you herewith the note of 
 invitation which you desire to have." 
 
 The conduct of the Due Duras was silly. It was the act 
 of a pettish man, prompt to take offence where no offence 
 could be intended ; but it had its political meaning too. 
 Another outrage might have led to graver consequences, 
 but that the Duke treated it with contempt. He was in 
 the frequent habit of attending the King's levees ; and on 
 such occasions usually found himself beset with civilities. 
 About this time he went as usual, and observed that one 
 marshal after another held aloof from him. At last, as if a 
 common feeling actuated them, they all turned about and 
 walked away. The KJing saw, and though not himself free 
 from the contagion, affected to consider this a strong 
 measure, for he approached the Duke, and began to make 
 some excuses for it. " Don't distress yourself. Sire," 
 observed the Duke quietly, " it is not the first time they 
 have turned their backs on me." It was a sharp stroke of 
 wit, which, when repeated, obtained great favour even with 
 the French. The marshals, among others, felt its force. 
 There might be little increase of cordiality among them ; 
 but they took good care never again to turn their backs 
 upon the Duke when they saw him approaching. 
 
 Neither the French court nor the French people ever
 
 276 COLONEL LABEDOYEEE AND MARSHAL XEY. [1815. 
 
 cordially forgave tlie part which the Duke felt himself 
 forced to play in these transactions, and there occurred, not 
 long afterwards, events which increased four-fold the feeling 
 of personal hostility towards him among the people and 
 with the French army. 
 
 Soon after the arrival of the King, and the settlement of 
 a constitutional government, a proclamation of amnesty 
 to all who had taken part in the late rebellion was issued. 
 From that amnesty certain individuals were excepted by 
 name ; and among the rest. Colonel Labedoyere and Marshal 
 ^ej. The first, it will be remembered, had set the example 
 of defection, by going over with his regiment to Xapoleon. 
 The last, after undertaking to bring back the invader in a 
 cage, had joined him with the corps of which he was at the 
 head. Both of these gentlemen were in Paris when the 
 capitulation was signed ; and both, had they remained in it, 
 would have had a right, so far as the English and Prussian 
 Grenerals were concerned, to claim under it exemption from 
 arrest. Both, however, apparently convinced that from the 
 Bourbons they had no mercy to expect, fled from Paris 
 before the allied troops entered. They were both provided 
 with money by Fouche, at that moment the head of the 
 Provisional Government, and might have escaped, had they 
 chosen, into Switzerland, and been safe. 
 
 They were believed to be safe beyond the frontier, when, 
 on the 24th of July, the decree was published which specially 
 excluded them from the amnesty. It Avas counter-signed by 
 Fouche, the very person who, on the Gth, had sent them 
 away with money in their pockets. The deed was never 
 intended to signify more than the King's determination to 
 draw a line between the crowd and the leaders in the late 
 defection. But Labedoyere committed the folly of appear- 
 ing in Paris, after he had been proscribed ; and being re- 
 cognized, was, of course, imprisoned, tried, and executed. 
 Ney was scarcely more wise, and equally unfortunate. Al'ter 
 arriving within a stage of the Swiss frontier, he turned 
 back, and took up his residence at his own house in the 
 country. He had been there some months, no one in Paris 
 caring to inquire about him, when an over-zealous local
 
 1815.] THE DUKE UNJUSTLY BLAMED. 277 
 
 magistrate arrested him, and made a report of wliat he had 
 done. The French Grovernment was annoyed, but could 
 act only in one way. He was sent to Paris ; and after con- 
 siderable delay, put upon his trial, found guilty, and con- 
 demned to be shot. It is a remarkable fact that neither at 
 the time of his outlawry, nor after his arrest in the country, 
 was any appeal made by him, or by the members of his 
 family, to the Duke of Wellington, or to the treaty of capi- 
 tulation which he had signed. As soon, howeyer, as the 
 trial came on, the Duke was importuned to interfere ; and 
 as far as it was jDOSsible for him, in his priyate capacity, and 
 circumstanced as he then was in his relations with the 
 French Groyernment, he did interfere. But when the friends 
 of Ney went farther, and demanded that the 12th article of 
 the treaty of capitulation should be applied to his case, the 
 Duke refused to admit the justice of the claim. He pointed 
 out that the capitulation was a military conyention, and 
 nothing more, entered into between the commanders of two 
 hostile armies ; that it neither was, nor could be, binding on 
 the Allied Soyereigns, and still less upon the King of France. 
 Besides, Marshal Ney, by fleeing from Paris before the 
 Allies entered, had excluded himself from the priyileges, 
 Ayhateyer these may be, which the article in question con- 
 ferred. But this was not aU. Sir Cliarles, afterwards Lord 
 Stuart de Eothsay, now represented England at the Court 
 of France. If the English Groyernment had felt itself at 
 liberty to interfere, such interference would haye taken 
 place throiigh him. The Duke was the commander-in-chief 
 of the English army, not the English ambassador. Besides, 
 the position in which he stood towards the French Groyern- 
 ment and the French people in consequence of his straight- 
 forward proceedings in the matter of the museums, rendered 
 it impossible for him to ask as a personal fayour what he 
 could not demand as a right. For one or other of two 
 results must haye followed. Either the Groyernment would 
 haye refused to spare Ney, in which case the unpopularity 
 of the execution must haye been deepened ; or else sparing 
 Ney they would haye been charged with yielding to an 
 enemy what they refused to the French people. The results
 
 278 ARMY OF OCCUPATIOX. [1815. 
 
 are well known. Ney died as lie had lived, a brave man ; 
 and of the Duke it was said that he had permitted the 
 execution because he was envious of the military reputation 
 of one whom he had often defeated in the field. 
 
 It is well known that among the continental sovereigns 
 a general wish at that time prevailed to dismember France. 
 It is equally well known that to the Duke of AVellington 
 alone, and to his influence with the English Grovernment, it 
 was owing that so iniquitous and unwise a policy was aban- 
 doned. On the other hand, both the Duke and the British 
 Government acknowledged the justice of making France 
 pay, at least in part, the expenses of the war. A certain 
 amount, to be disbvirsed in annual subsidies, was fixed upon, 
 and it was settled that till this debt should be liquidated, 
 and some certainty of quiet under the existing regime estab- 
 lished, an army of occupation should continue to hold the 
 country. The strength of the army was fixed at 150,000 
 men, of whom England was to furnish 50,000, the rest of 
 Europe 100,000, and the command of the whole was by 
 universal consent conferred upon the Duke of Wellington. 
 
 The Duke so disposed his force that Paris was left to the 
 King, and Ei-auce to her own people. The army of occu- 
 pation held all the principal frontier fortresses, with easy 
 communication between its several divisions. He himself 
 took possession of the Chateau of St Martin, about 16 miles 
 from Cambray ; because the country was favourable for 
 field sports, which were forthwith resumed. He had a 
 house, likewise, in Paris, where he spent a good deal of his 
 time in the elucidation and settlement of accounts, and in 
 rendering, when applied to, clear and valuable advice on all 
 the political questions which came up. With respect to 
 the accounts it may suffice to observe that they related to 
 the claims and counter-claims which the French and the 
 Allied Grovernments brought against each other. Special 
 commissioners had been named to examine these claims. 
 They worked accordiiig to rule, and drew their salaries ; but 
 the settlement appeared as remote as ever, when the Duke 
 was requested to take the matter in hand. In three months 
 all was made clear. The French ministers themselves were
 
 1815.] HATED BY THE COURT AND PEOPLE. 279 
 
 forced to admit that his decisions were just ; and they threw 
 themselves on the consideration of the conquerors, which, at 
 his suggestion, was extended to them. Strange to say, all 
 this only tended to aggravate his unpopularity. He was 
 hated on account of his integrity. He was disliked because 
 he could afford to be generous. He was the only man in 
 Europe who could neither be cajoled nor frightened. The 
 great benefactor to France, when she stood most in need of 
 a benefactor, he received as his reward the unmitigated hos- 
 tility of all classes. The King alone understood his value 
 to the cause of order, and respected, if he did not personally 
 love, the man. But almost every other Frenchman, except 
 pei'haps Talleyrand, probably for this reason, hated him with 
 all his heart. 
 
 But the Duke was hated elsewhere than in France. 
 There were scattered all through Europe at this time, knots 
 of repviblicans, whom recent events had driven into exile ; 
 and who made common cause with the discontented, wher- 
 ever they settled themselves, and got up or encouraged the 
 growth of secret societies. Belgium became the head-quar- 
 ters of this revolutionary body ; for Belgium was one of the 
 capitals of a constitutional state which guarded, with almost 
 excessive tenderness, the liberties of individuals, and laid 
 itself open, in consequence, to the hostility of its more 
 despotic neighbours. The grand idea which seemed ever 
 present to the minds of the leaders of this party, was how 
 to get the army of occupation removed from France. They 
 persuaded themselves that if this were done, a new re- 
 volution might soon be brought about ; and the conduct 
 of the French Court, if not of the King, gave consider- 
 able show of plausibility to the argument. For the 
 Covu^t had gradually weeded out of the ministry whatever 
 liberal statesmen had originally belonged to it. Fouche 
 was sent into honourable banishment, Talleyrand was dis- 
 graced ; the Duke de Richelieu, an ultra-royalist, guided 
 the helm of state, under severe pressure from the King's 
 brothers and the ladies of the family. Numerous joroscrip- 
 tions of suspected persons folloAved ; and it Avas generally 
 understood that an attemjit would be made to recover the
 
 280 FIRST ATTEMn OX HIS LIFE. [1816. 
 
 estates wliicli the first Ecvolution liad coufiscated. The 
 llcjniblicaus believed, or professed to believe, that the Duke 
 of Wclliugton was favourable to tliis poliej. They estab- 
 lished newspaj^ers, iu which they openly charged him with 
 conspiring against the liberties of France ; and spoke of 
 him as a public enemy whom it would be lawful to destroy, 
 as men destroy wolves. Tet all this while he was incurring 
 the bitter hostility of the Eoyalists, in consequence of the 
 remonstrances which he made to the King against the reac- 
 tionary policy of his ministers. 
 
 Extremes meet in politics as in religion. Eoyalists and 
 Ivepublicans equally abhorred the man who opposed himself 
 Avith the same honesty of purpose to the devices of both ; and 
 both endeavoured to get rid of him by the same means. The 
 Duke gave a ball at his hotel in theEue Champs-Elysees, on 
 the 2.jth of June, 1816. It was just after he had been with 
 the King, and warned him of the mischief which his brothers 
 and their friends were doing. Angry as they were, the 
 Princes could not refuse to be present at the ball. But 
 they retired early, leaving the rooms still crowded with 
 guests, Avhen an alarm Avas given that the house was on fire. 
 It appeared, upon inquiry, that iu a cellar, of which the 
 Avindow opened to the street, a barrel of oil had been placed ; 
 bhavings also had been scattei'cd on the floor, in Avhich some 
 bottles filled with gunpowder were mixed, and the shavings 
 Avere on fire Avhen the discovery AA'as made. A few minutes 
 later, and the Avhole house must have been in a blaze. 
 
 The Duke paid very little . attention to the occurrence. 
 If he did not himself believe, others certainly did, that the 
 oil, and gunpowder, and shavings, had been placed AA^here 
 they Avere found, for his destruction ; and suspicion, not 
 unnaturally, fell upon the heads of the party Avith Avhich he 
 Avas then at enmity. Of the source iu Avhich the second 
 attempt on his life originated, there could be no doubt. The 
 Republicans, or Bonapartists (for they Avere now united), 
 gradually Avrought themselves up to a state of rabid excite- 
 ment. They received great encouragement from the Empe- 
 ror Alexander of Eussia, Avho, raised to the throne under 
 appalling circumstances and married to an amiable princess, 
 
 1
 
 1816.] THE HOLY ALLIANCE. 281 
 
 with whose tastes his own could never agree, fell, as years 
 grew upon him, into a morbid state. He sought relief from 
 his own despondency in devising schemes for the moral 
 regeneration of mankind. It was in one of these fits of 
 philanthropy that his project of the Holy Alliance origin- 
 ated, which, though long misunderstood, is now known to 
 have been as harmless as it was imj^racticable. It aimed at 
 connecting the princes of Europe in a chain of brotherhood ; 
 binding them to govern their respective countries upon 
 Christian principles, and inviting them to acknowledge, as 
 their common head, Jesus Christ. His, too, was the idea, 
 that the aftairs of the world might be managed by meetings, 
 at fixed jjeriods, of kings and their ministers, while to the 
 peoples as much of liberty was given as should be compat- 
 ible with the maintenance of order and the due authority 
 of patriarchal government. The policy of the Ultra-Eoyal- 
 ists in France was peculiarly distasteful to a prince so dis- 
 posed ; and he took every oj^portunity of condemning and 
 endeavouring to counteract it. Hence, though the most 
 absolute sovereign in Europe, he became the centre towards 
 which all the discontented spirits of all nations gravitated ; 
 and listening to their complaints, and exj^ressiug sympathy 
 with them, he created the persuasion, that from him, at 
 least, no opposition to the restoration of a golden age would 
 be off"ered. 
 
 The Prince of Orange was married to the Czar's daughter. 
 He was not on good terms with his own father, and felt 
 sore at the treatment which he had received from England 
 in the matter of the Princess Charlotte of AVales. Partly, 
 perhaps, for these reasons, partly because he entertained 
 profound respect for the Emj)eror, the Prince took the 
 same line in politics ; and protected, if he did not associate 
 with, the chiefs of the republican refugees in Belgium. 
 Now, the Duke of "Wellington, while he averted from the 
 Low Countries the threatened violence of Prussia, was 
 urgent uj^on the Government to rid the country of these 
 fomenters of mischief. He became, in consequence, a 
 special object of their detestation ; and writing in their 
 newspapers against him, they wrote at the same time
 
 2S2 niS UNrOPULARITY IN FRANCE. [1816. 
 
 what gave pleasure to men of all shades of opinion in 
 Prance. 
 
 The Duke paid a short visit to England in 1816. On his 
 return to the Continent he found that an angry spirit was 
 fermenting between the French people and his troops. 
 Insults were offered, and assassinations attempted, against 
 both officers and men ; and it was necessary to interfere 
 Avith a strong hand to stop the evil. This he did, increas- 
 ing thereby the bitterness of the grudge which was borne 
 him. But the climax of his unpopularity was reached 
 when it came out that an application made by the French 
 Government and supported by Eussia, to reduce the army 
 of occupation by 30,000 men, had, through his influence, 
 been rejected. The circumstance befell at a time when, the 
 crops having failed, the pressure of a foreign army could 
 Bot but be severely felt by the people ; and on the plea of 
 relieving the people the proposition Avas brought forward. 
 But the Duke's superior sagacity showed him that unless 
 the Allies Avere prepared to relieve France entirely from 
 the obligations which they had imposed upon her, it Avas 
 exactly at such a time that good policy required their hold 
 upon the country to be firm. The army, it was demon- 
 strated, had not been too strong to effect that purpose. 
 Weaken it by 30,000 men, and bread-riots, AA'hich Avcre 
 pretty sure to occur, might groAV into insurrection. But 
 insuri-ection, if it once gained head, would end in war ; and 
 Avar, besides involving Europe in difficulties and expense, 
 must lead to a third conquest of France, Avith all the evils 
 attendant on it. The Duke's reasoning prevailed. No 
 troops Avere Avithdrawn at that time, and the French 
 Grovernment loudly complained, AA'hile the republican press 
 pronounced him to be the enemy of the human race. 
 
 The Duke, though he resisted the measure in question 
 Avheu first proposed, Avithdrow his opposition some months 
 later. There was no famine in the land, and the pcojile 
 Avere, or seemed to be, as little discontented as usual. Ac- 
 cordingly, in April, 1817, 30,000 allied troops quitted 
 France, which experienced, in consequeiu^e, a considerable 
 diminution of the burthens to which the Treatv of 1815 had 
 
 A
 
 1817.] POLICY OF RUSSIA. 283 
 
 subjected her. But tlie Duke's popularity was not thereby 
 restored. On the contrary, events occurred, almost imme- 
 diately afterwards, which brought down upon him, most 
 unfairly, a very storm of public odium. Russia had, at this 
 time, a policy of her own. She w^as exceedingly anxious 
 to conciliate France ; and her representative in Paris in- 
 trigued with the French Groverument for getting rid of 
 the army of occupation altogether. It seems difficult to 
 believe that either he or his master could entertain any 
 serious expectation of effecting that object. The Treaty of 
 Paris had fixed the limits of the occupation at five years, of 
 which two were not yet expired, and of the conditions to 
 be fulfilled by France many were still in abeyance. But 
 Russia gained something — or her representative persuaded 
 himself that she did — when the rumour got abroad that 
 such a proposition had, by him, been brought forward, 
 though he had not succeeded in obtaining for it the ap- 
 proval of his colleagues. 
 
 Whatever went wrong at home or abroad, the Eepubli- 
 cans laid to the door of the Duke and of the Bourbons. The 
 failure of the Russian scheme supplied them with an admir- 
 able topic ; and they made their own iise of it. In August, 
 1817, a jilacard was posted on the walls of Dunkirk which 
 called upon the people to rise and free themselves at once 
 from the Bourbons and their foreign supporters. Of this 
 placard a copy was sent to the Duke, who transmitted it to 
 Sir Charles Stuart ; but he wrote at the same time, and 
 advised that no public notice should be taken of it. " I 
 don't purpose," he added. " to make any personal communi- 
 cation of this paper to the principal officers of the army of 
 occupation, as it appears very unnecessary to create what I 
 think a groundless alarm. We are all sufficiently on our 
 guard — not against assassination, certainly, and I don't see 
 how we could be so — but against surprise. A few strag- 
 gling officers or soldiers might be murdered in their can- 
 tonments in the winter, certainly ; but nothing could pre- 
 vent our collecting, if necessary ; and tlien, I confess, I 
 don't see what could injure us." 
 
 The Duke divided his time a good deal between Valen-
 
 284 SECOND ATTEMrX OX HIS LIFE. [1818. 
 
 cieuues, where the head-quarters of the allied army was 
 stationed, and Paris, to which he made frequent visits, in 
 order to advise and assist at the deliberations of the coun- 
 cil of ministers. In these deliberations all the affairs of 
 the world Avere discussed. Austria and Spain were at 
 variance about certain Italian principalities. They ac- 
 cepted, on the Duke's suggestion, a compromise, and their 
 differences ceased. Spain and Portugal, likewise at strife, 
 were reconciled ; and an attempt was made, without suc- 
 cess, to mediate between Spain and her revolted colonies. 
 It was while he occupied himself in these laudable efforts, 
 that the Duke narrowly escaj^ed the second attempt upon 
 his life. He occupied a house in the Champs Elysees, the 
 same from which, in 1848, Le Grange fired upon the troops 
 the pistol-shot which may be said to have begun the revo- 
 lution of that year. The entrance to it was under a 
 covered passage, the gate of which stood square towards 
 the street ; presenting a somewhat awkward means of ap- 
 jiroach, except to a skilful driver. It happened that on 
 the 11th of Pebruary, 1818, the Duke dined with Sir 
 Charles Stuart. He retired from the party about half-past 
 twelve o'clock, and drove straight home. The night was 
 dark, and the streets were not lighted, as they are now, 
 with gas ; but by oil lamps, one of which hung in the court- 
 yard of the house. The light which it shed discovered a 
 man who darted across the street in front of the carriage, 
 and took up his station within the gateway ; and the coacli- 
 man, suspicious that all could not be right, flogged his 
 horses and drove ra2)idly. jSTo sooner Avas the carriage 
 well under the arch, than a pistol was fired, but without 
 effect. The Duke heard the report, looked out, and saw 
 the person who had discharged it turn and run away. Be- 
 fore the horses could be stopped, and a pursuit undertaken, 
 he disappeared in the darkness : he was safe for the night. 
 
 The police was at once communicated with, and an active 
 search ibr the assassin began. It was known that a knot 
 of suspected persons had arrived a few days previously from 
 Brussels, and among the rest a person named Cantillon, 
 formerly a non-commissioned officer in the Imperial army.
 
 1818.] THE ASSASSIN ACQUITTED. 28.5 
 
 Upon him suspicion fell, and being arrested and shown to 
 the Duke's servants they immediately identified him. lie 
 was committed to prison, and an assurance given that no 
 means would be omitted of discovering his accomplices and 
 bringing them likewise to justice. There is nothing to 
 show that the French Government desired to push its in- 
 quiries in that direction very vigorously. Cantillon was 
 understood to be an agent of the society which had its chief 
 seat in Brussels, which had repeatedly, in its publications, 
 recommended the use of the dagger, and with which a con- 
 fidential aide-de-camp of the Prince of Orange was known 
 to be connected. A peremptory demand for the arrest of 
 these persons coidd scarcely, under the circumstances, have 
 been evaded. But the French Government, by what mo- 
 tive actuated I cannot pretend to say, made no such de- 
 mand. The consequence was that all who lay open to sus- 
 picion wisely fled ; and Cantillon was left alone to answer 
 for the attempted murder. 
 
 Cantillon was in due time brought to trial, and in the 
 teeth of evidence which, anywhere except in the Paris of 
 1S18, would have proved his guilt, was acquitted. I might 
 here close my account of this discreditable affair, did not the 
 truth of history demand that its sequel, both immediate and 
 more remote, should be placed on record. The news of the 
 attempted assassination no sooner got abroad than every 
 member of the royal family of France waited upon the 
 Duke, with one remarkable exception. Louis Philippe, 
 Duke of Orleans, paid him no visit of cougratulation ; but, 
 by and by, after he ascended the throne, bestowed upon 
 Cantillon the place of gamekeeper at Fontainebleau. IN'or 
 were either N^apoleon I. or Napoleon III. unmindful of the 
 patriot. The former, by a codicil to his will, executed at 
 St Helena, and proved in Doctors' Commons, bequeathed to 
 CantiUon, in approval of the act, a legacy of 10,000 francs, 
 which the latter, a quarter of a century afterwards, paid, 
 with all the interest accruing thereon, to his represent- 
 atives. 
 
 There was, however, a person on whom these occurrences 
 wrought with terrible effect. The Prince of Orange felt
 
 286 THE miXCE OF ORAXGE. [1813. 
 
 overwhelmed witli grief and shame. He -wrote to the Duke, 
 entreating him to believe that he neither was, nor ever 
 could have been, a party to such proceedings. His asso- 
 ciations with the Eepublicans had never, he protested, been 
 more than a sentiment, of which he now acknowledged the 
 weakness. As may well be imagined, the Duke entertained 
 no suspicion of the complicity of his old aide-de-camp in 
 the crime of assassination, and he hastened to reassure him 
 on that head. He even promised to visit him, in order to 
 convince the world that a perfect understanding still sub- 
 sisted between them, and suggested that an excellent op- 
 portunity was aiforded of becoming reconciled to the King 
 his father. It does not appear that the Prince of Orange 
 and the Duke of Wellington met, either at Cambray or at 
 Zoestdyke, on that occasion ; but the Duke was soon after- 
 wards gratified by hearing that the reconciliation which he 
 had advised had been effected, and that the Prince ceased 
 to entertain any more unnatural leanings towards idtra- 
 liberalism. 
 
 It will be seen from these details that the time of the 
 Duke, while he remained at the head of the army in France, 
 was much more given to the management of civil than of 
 military aflairs. For the exercise of his talents as a general 
 no scope, indeed, was afforded. Broils here and there oc- 
 curred — personal quarrels between the French and the 
 foreign troops, or between the foreign troops and the in- 
 habitants. But no attempt at an armed rising occurred, 
 nor was occasion given, so much as once, to concentrate in 
 order to suppress it. Occasional reviews, some of them on 
 a large scale, with the steady maintenance of discipline in 
 quarters, alone called for the exercise of his soldierly 
 abilities. For the exceeding regularity with which supplies 
 came in, and the systematic manner in which accounts were 
 kept and settled, soon obviated the necessity of mediating 
 between the troops and the country people. There followed 
 upon this a far more kindly spirit than had at first been 
 manifested on either side. Private quarrels grew rare. 
 British and German ofiicers began to mix in a friendly 
 manner in civic and rural fetes. Conspirators grew weary
 
 1818.] HIS HOSPITALITIES. 287 
 
 of conspiring. The French people became reconciled to 
 their Government — the Government seemed more and more 
 to trust the people. Even the adjustment of claims ap- 
 peared to be acquiesced in, and the terms of the treaty of 
 1815 were either fulfilled or put in the way of fulfilment. 
 What need could there be for a continued occupation of the 
 French soil by foreign bayonets ? The Duke conceived 
 that there was no need. In the congress which met in the 
 winter of 1818 at Aix-la-Chapelle, he delivered in a written 
 memorandum to that effect, and it was immediately acted 
 upon. The army of occupation broke up. The Duke 
 voluntarily relinquished a post of great political importance 
 and large emolument, which a word of remonstrance would 
 have secured to him for two years longer, and France was left 
 to her own resources, with every prospect of becoming 
 again a great and prosperous nation. 
 
 All this while the Duke's life in private differed little from 
 what we have seen that it was, when carrying on the war 
 in Portugal and Spain, and in the country between the 
 Bidassoa and the Garonne. His hospitalities might be on 
 a larger scale, his guests were undoubtedly more varied, 
 but whomsoever he received at his table his manners 
 continued to be as simple and as kind as in former years. 
 He was waited upon as a matter of course by every stranger 
 of note who from any part of the world found his way to 
 Paris. His English visitors included Sir "Walter, then Mr, 
 Scott, Moore, Eogers, Siddons, John Kemble, Madame 
 Catalani, all of whom partook of his generous fare, and 
 were charmed with his conversation. But although the 
 Duke himself was invariably kind and considerate, the young 
 gentlemen composing his household aj^pear sometimes to 
 have disapproved of the company which he kept. Like 
 children spoiled by too much indulgence, they ventured more 
 than once to make this sentiment known by retiring from 
 the salon before the party broke up, and leaving him to enter- 
 tain his friends single-handed. Good-natured as he was, 
 that measure proved rather too strong even for the Duke. 
 So one day the aides-de-camp were a good deal startled by 
 receiving each a copy of a written circular which required
 
 288 HIS STAFF. [1818. 
 
 the atteuclauce of tlie whole body upon their chief at 10 
 o'clock next morning, arrayed in full-dress uniform. Now 
 it so happened that among these boys there were several 
 who had never taken the trouble to provide themselves with 
 fuU-di'ess uniforms. They had their frocks, which they put 
 on when following the Duke to reviews, and they always 
 dressed, as indeed he did liimself, in plain clothes, to receive 
 his jjarties at home. Grrcat, therefore, was the consternation 
 of the conclave, and vast the exertions made to beg or bor- 
 row the necessary habiliments in which to meet their chief. 
 At last the dreaded moment came, and the Duke, looking 
 somewhat sternly round, spoke his mind. He had been 
 surprised and indignant that the gentlemen of his staff 
 should show themselves inattentive to his guests. It was 
 their duty to serve him as well in the domestic circle as 
 elsewhere, and he expected that for the future they would 
 conduct themselves as they knew that he wished them to do. 
 
 The young men looked very foolish, but took, as they 
 were bound to do, his reproof in good part, and it is fair to 
 add, that from that day forth no one, not even the most sensi- 
 tive individual who had the honour of sitting at the Duke's 
 table, found reason to consider himself slighted by the meui- 
 bers of the Duke's family. 
 
 Though cured of behaving rudely, these lads were by no 
 means cured of playing practical jokes upon all persons, 
 high and low, who seemed to present fair butts to their wit. 
 Among others, they tried to get Sir Sidney Smith into a 
 scrape, and but for the Duke they would have succeeded. 
 The gallant Admiral, as is well known, though one of the 
 bravest, was one of the vainest men of the age. He was in 
 Paris, and received an invitation to a ball Avliich the Duke 
 was about to give ; and he received more. A letter reached 
 him the same day, professing to come from the Sublime 
 Porte, in which it was announced that in consideration of 
 his eminent services at Acre, the Sultan had been pleused to 
 confer upon him the order of tlie Key. By and by a box 
 arrived, containing a key carefully wrapped up in gilded 
 paper, and having a broad ribbon attached. The key hap- 
 pened to be very rusty, and the circumstance was accounted
 
 1818.] SIR SIDNEY SMITH. 289 
 
 for by a statement in writing, that the box had unfortunately 
 been wetted with sea water in its passage from Constanti- 
 nople. 
 
 The gallant Admiral received the present, as it was antici- 
 pated that he Avould ; and being desirous of obtaining some 
 other authority than his own for wearing the order, he pro- 
 ceeded to the Duke's house and asked his advice. The 
 Duke saw at once into the whole matter ; and a sore trial it 
 was to a man endowed with a keen sense of the ridiculous, 
 to keep his gravity. But he put a restraint upon his feel- 
 ings, pretended to be exceedingly angry, and advised Sir 
 Sidney not to wear the key. He was convulsed with laugh- 
 ter when he met the culprits at dinner, and often told the 
 story afterwards with admirable humour. 
 
 The Duke had his hunting days at and near Cambray, as re- 
 gularly as he used to have them on the banks of tlie Agueda. 
 The meets were well attended, and often led to excellent 
 sport. He gave every encouragement likewise to the thea- 
 trical performances Avhich were got up in Cambray itself, 
 chiefly under the management of Mr Commissioner !Fon- 
 blanque, then an officer in the 21st Fusiliers. But all this 
 came to an end in due time. The army of occupation broke 
 up as I have stated ; the Duke took leave of it in a valedictory 
 addi^ess, and never again assumed the direction of troops in 
 the immediate presence of an enemy. 
 
 19
 
 290 
 
 CIIAPTEE XXIX. 
 
 TROUBLESOME TIMES CATO STREET QUEEN CAROLINE. 
 
 AYe turn a page in the biography of this great man, and 
 find ourselves called upon to follow him through long years 
 spent in the struggles of party, and amid the anxieties 
 and disajjpointments of political life. 
 
 There are those among the most ardent of his admirers who 
 conceive, that for his own sake, if not for the sake of the 
 country, it would have been well had that course been avoid- 
 ed. His habits, they assert, were formed out of England, and 
 in a condition of things essentially un-English. He had 
 undergone no training worthy of the name in the House of 
 Commons, and never could have found leisure to study, as 
 they require to be studied, the laws and constitution of his 
 country. Perhaps this is in the main true. But how was 
 it possible for the Duke of Wellington, so long the referee 
 to the King's ministers in questions of foreign policy, to 
 withdraw into private life while yet in the vigour of his days ? 
 That the Duke should have become a party politician may 
 be a subject of regret. Able men, entertaining the same 
 views with himself, thought so when he first fell into that 
 category. They considered the position unworthy of one 
 who for a quarter of a century had stood far above party 
 and its claims. But the great question to be answered is, 
 could the thing be avoided ? I think not. A ministry so 
 feeble as that of which Lord Liverpool was the head threw 
 itself for support upon the prestige of the Duke's great 
 name. They gave him no time to consider what course 
 
 d
 
 1818.] IN THE CABINET. 291 
 
 would be best, either for himself or for the country, but in- 
 veigled him, if I may so express myself, into the Cabinet, 
 under the pretext of securing to it the best opinion which 
 Europe could supply on military subjects. He was still 
 commander-in-chief of the army of occupation, when the 
 Master-generalship of the Ordnance was pressed upon him, 
 in a manner which, as they well knew, precluded the possi- 
 bility of refusal. And so, on his return home, he found 
 himself wrapped round in a net from which he never after- 
 wards broke away ; and from which, use having reconciled 
 him to the position, he never perhaps desired to break 
 away, till disappointment and the increasing infirmities of 
 age warned him that his day of labour was done. 
 
 The interval between 1818 and 1820 is one on which no 
 lover of his country now looks back except with regret. It 
 was a season of change from war with its profuse expendi- 
 ture to peace, bringing not plenty, but forced public 
 economy in its train ; and in the manipulation of that in- 
 terval all parties in the state, Tories and Whigs, the 
 friends of Government and its enemies, committed grievous 
 blunders. The people entirely uneducated, and goaded on 
 by want, and by the harangues of demagogues, plotted and 
 schemed for the overthrow of the monarchy, and were re- 
 strained from carrying their designs into execution only by 
 measures of the harshest repression. Columns of regular 
 troops traversed the manufiicturing and mining districts to 
 disperse nightly drillings and over-awe disaffection. And 
 mobs, being charged by yeomanry cavalry, offered resistance, 
 and were cut down. It would not be fair to try by the 
 standard of our own times and ideas the proceedings either 
 of rulers or of subjects 40 years ago. The statesmen of that 
 day had been eye-witnesses, so to speak, of the first French 
 Revolution, and were too much afraid of the recurrence of 
 its atrocities to shrink from any measures, however stern, 
 Avhich promised to avert th^em. The masses, never having 
 heard of the term " moral power," and being ignorant 
 how to exercise the thing itself, thought only amid their 
 sufferings, real or imaginary, of appealing to brute force. 
 Hence the struggle between order and confusion, rudely 
 
 19 *
 
 292 DEATH OF GEOEGE III. [1818. 
 
 conducted ou botli sides, and leading to the enactments of 
 laws siicli as no Parliament in these days could be per- 
 snaded to pass, nor any magistrates to carry into eftect. 
 Why should I go, even shortly, over ground which has so 
 little to attract ? Eather let me content myself Avith say- 
 ing, that the Duke, as was natural, adopted the views of his 
 colleagues throughout these years of trouble ; that whether 
 agreeing with them or dissenting from them while points 
 were discussed in the Cabinet, he stood by them manfully 
 when they came to a decision ; and that he gave them the 
 benefit of his counsel, in so marshalling and directing the 
 military force at their disposal, that no serious risings any- 
 where took place, and very few lives Avere sacrificed. 
 
 The troubles of 1818 and 1819 were incident mainly to 
 commercial depression. AVith increasing prosperity in the 
 manufacturing districts came a respite from such troubles. 
 But the people had been too carefully taught to connect 
 their own suff'erings with abuses in the machinery of the 
 Government to be reconciled, in prosperity, to the constitu- 
 tion as it was ; and the Prince Eegent was personally 
 odious to them. The death of George III. brought this 
 latter feeling strongly to light. 
 
 George III. died on the 28th of December, 1820 ; George 
 TV. was immediately proclaimed ; and in less than three 
 Aveeks dangers threatened the state from two very different 
 (}uarters. It was discovered that for some time back a band of 
 desperate men had met nightly in a garret in Cato Street, 
 and that they were plotting the assassination of the King 
 and of all the members of his Cabinet. At first they made 
 a distribution of the bloody Avork, each conspirator under- 
 taking to make aAvay Avith a particular victim ; and this cir- 
 cumstance it is Avhich induces me to dAvcll at all i;pon the 
 insane project. Por the Duke had a narroAV escape. " It 
 came out upon the examination," said the Duke, teUing the 
 story at Walmcr Castle, " that; I Avas to be taken care of 
 by Mr Ings. Mr Ings, it seems, had watched me often, 
 but never caught me alone, till one afteriioon in the begin- 
 ning of February he suav me leave the Ordnance OlHce. 
 He crossed the street and Avalked after me, intending, when
 
 1820.] THE CATO-STREET CONSPIRACY. 293 
 
 I got into the Green Park, to stab me from behind. But 
 before reaching St James's Palace, a gentleman with only- 
 one arm met me, and turning round, walked with me 
 through the Park to Apsley House. Mr Ings was afraid, 
 in the circumstances, to go on with his job, and I escaped. 
 And all this I quite believe, for I recollect meeting Lord 
 Pitzroy Somerset that day ; and just as we resumed our 
 Avalk, I saw a suspicious-looking person pass us and go up 
 St James's Street." 
 
 " And what about the conspiracy itself, Duke ? " 
 " You all know how it went on, and by what process it 
 was stopped. I proposed a difterent plan, but my col- 
 leagues did not like it. We were masters, by this time, of 
 all their secrets, and knew that they intended to break in 
 vipon us at a Cabinet dinner at Lord Harrowby's, and put 
 us all to death. My proposal was to get a body of police 
 quietly into the house, to send our despatch-boxes there, 
 each containing a brace of pistols, and to let them come. I 
 thouglit it the readiest way of catching them in a trap, with- 
 out creating alarm elsewhere. My colleagues, however, 
 were of a different opinion, and perhaps they were right." 
 
 The other peril, if a peril it deserves to be called, arose 
 immediately out of the domestic differences between Greorge 
 IV. and Queen Caroline. Time has long since settled the 
 merits of that quarrel. A profligate and selfish Prince, pre- 
 vented by circumstances from ridding himself by legitimate 
 means of a profligate and violent Princess, endeavoured by 
 means which were not legitimate to crush her ; and his 
 ministers, weakly lending themselves to his humours, 
 stretched the law to the verge of injustice, and failed. 
 The Duke's part in that wretched drama was a subordinate 
 one. He met the Queen's Attorney-General, Mr, now 
 Lord, Brougham, and proposed terms of a comj)romise, which 
 were rejected ; and he drew round London the cordon of 
 troops, which were to put down violence, should serious 
 violence be attempted. But disapproving, as he did, the 
 whole of the King's proceedings, he held as much as pos- 
 sible aloof from discussing them. An expression dropped 
 in the course of debate in the House of Lords, brought
 
 294 A SLIP OF THE TONGUE. [1820. 
 
 down upon liim, it is true, a sudden burst of obloquy. Tlie 
 Queen was of course the idol of the mob ; many petitions 
 came in, in her favour, and among the rest, one from 
 Hampshire, containing 9000 signatures. Now the Duke 
 had recently been appointed to the Lieutenancy of Hamp- 
 shire, and it was charged against him by an opposition 
 peer, that he discountenanced the getting up of a county 
 petition. His answer, though very characteristic, was not 
 perhaps very prudent. After showing that the House was 
 already in possession of a petition numerously and respect- 
 ably signed, he added, that he did not see what purpose 
 could be served after that, by going through the farce of a 
 county meeting. It Avas by mistakes like this, trifling in 
 themselves, yet offering a ready handle to the ill-disposed, 
 that the Duke sometimes sliowed his lack of training in 
 what may be called Parliamentary tactics. The words 
 Avere much commented upon at the time, and were often 
 afterwards recalled, to prove either that the speaker did 
 not Icnow what the rights of the people were, or else know- 
 ing held them in entire disrespect. 
 
 J
 
 295 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 THE DUKE IN THE CABINET AT VERONA. 
 
 The larger edition of this work lias told how the ques- 
 tions of Parliamentary reform and free trade assumed about 
 this time a tangible shape ; and how the claims of Roman 
 Catholics to be admitted to the rights of citizenship, inde- 
 pendently of religious opinion, acquired day by day an in- 
 creasing number of advocates. 
 
 What the Duke's real sentiments were in 1821 regard- 
 ing Parliamentary reform and Catholic emancipation, it 
 would perhaps be difficult to determine. He did not leave 
 the Cabinet when Lord John Russell's proposal was re- 
 sisted ; and the franchise forfeited at Grampouud was trans- 
 ferred not to Leeds, but to Yorkshire. Neither did he 
 vote in the Cabinet, or in the House of Lords, with those 
 of his colleagues who approved of the entire removal of 
 Roman Catholic disabilities. But on the other hand, as he 
 declined a proposal to assume the chief direction of affairs 
 in Ireland, with a view to put down sedition there, and to 
 maintain the supremacy of the laws as they stood, so on the 
 subject of gradually extending the franchise to large towns, 
 he never uttered a word to show that he disapproved of 
 the project. Putting these two circumstances together, 
 and looking to the tone of his correspondence in earlier 
 years, the fair inference is that his mind was by no means 
 made up on either point. With respect to free trade the 
 case is difterent. He opposed the abolition of the Com- 
 pany's monopoly in China, for reasons which were rather
 
 296 IN PARIS. [1822. 
 
 political tHan commercial, and every successive year seemed 
 only more and more to confirm his predilections in favour, 
 of protection to British agriculture. It must be admitted, 
 however, that up to 1822, and beyond it, the Duke appears 
 scarcely to have bestowed much attention upon questions 
 purely fiscal. His politics were still those of the Foreign 
 Office, and he became in consequence a frequent medium of 
 communication between his own and Continental Grovern- 
 ments. He was not indeed present at the Congress of 
 Trappau. The English Government was little desirous of 
 taking part in that conclave, which met to consider how the 
 revolutionary spirit could best be put down in Europe. 
 Eor the revolutionary spirit was charged with having 
 brought about in Spain and Portugal, that impatience under 
 absolute rule which soon extended into Italy, and which, like 
 most feelings long pent up and suddenly triumphant, be- 
 came the cause in both countries of many abuses. By and 
 by, however, when Louis XVIII. was assembling an army on 
 the Spanish frontier, the Duke took advantage of an official 
 visit to the fortresses in the Netherlands, and passed on to 
 Paris. He had there some interesting conversation with 
 the French King and his ministers, and prevailed so far as 
 to induce the King to make a statement of the minimum 
 of his demands. " If you can get the Spaniards to accept 
 their constitution as a gift from the Crown, instead of 
 forcing it upon the Crown as the will of the people, we may 
 come to terms. Neither shall we withdi'aw our ambassador 
 from Madrid as the other powers threaten to do." This 
 was something ; time at least was gained by it, and the rea- 
 son of the concession M. Gruizot has assigned. " Louis 
 XVIII.," he says in his political reminiscences, " placed en- 
 tire confidence in the judgment and friendly feeling of the 
 Duke of AVellington." Yet Louis the XVIII. did not let 
 the Duke go without giving utterance to words of which 
 the meaning was pretty obvious. " Louis XIV.," he said, 
 levelled the Pyrenees ; I shall not allow them to be raised 
 again. He placed my family on the throne of Spain, I can- 
 not let them fall. The other sovereigns have not the same 
 duties to fulfil. My ambassador ought not to quit Madrid 
 
 I
 
 1822.] HIS INFLUENCE WITH THE KING. 297 
 
 until tte day when 100,000 Prenclimen are on their march 
 to replace him." 
 
 The Duke's visit to Paris at this time was followed by au 
 incident which is interesting only so far as it furnished him, 
 in after life, with an opportunity of telling a story to which 
 his peculiar manner of expressing himself gave remarkable 
 zest. Greorge IV., after a brief sojourn among his Irish 
 subjects, proceeded to Hanover ; and passing through Brus- 
 sels was there met by the Duke, who conducted him over 
 the Field of Waterloo. The Duke explained to the King 
 all the movements in the battle, and pointed out to him the 
 spots where men of note had fallen on both sides. " His 
 Majesty took it very coolly," he used to say ; " he never 
 asked me a single question, nor said one word, until I 
 showed him where Lord Anglesea's leg was buried, and then 
 he burst into tears." 
 
 Though holding an inferior place in the Cabinet, and ex- 
 hibiting little desire to take the lead in its deliberations, 
 the Duke's influence with the King was by this time very 
 great. It was for him or for Lord Castlereagh, not for 
 Lord Liverpool, that his Majesty, when he had any important 
 communication to make, usually sent ; and on most subjects, 
 particularly on those aff'ecting the Foreign relations of the 
 country, the Duke and Lord Castlereagh thought alike. The 
 time was come, however, when circumstances were about to 
 force the Duke into a more prominent place as a politician. 
 The Session of 1822 appeared to have overtaxed Lord Cas- 
 tlereagh's powers of mind. The internal condition of the 
 British Empire troubled him, as did the state of Continental 
 Europe, and indeed of the world at large. He had agreed 
 to attend a Congress at Vienna in the autumn, at which 
 many important subjects should be discussed. But as the 
 moment approached for setting out upon the journey, his 
 courage failed him. At last the whole country was horri- 
 fied by learning that he had destroyed himself in his house 
 at Eoot's Cray. No man felt the shock of that blow more 
 severely than the Duke. He seems to have been apprehen- 
 sive for some time back that a catastrophe of the kind was 
 possible, for he warned Lord Castlereagh's medical adviser
 
 298 MR CANNING. [1822 
 
 to be upon his guard, and tried to soothe the anxieties of 
 his friend, by proposing to become himself Lord Castle- 
 rea<i-h's substitute at the Congress. The crash came how- 
 ever, and its immediate effect was to place the Duke, some- 
 what against his will, in the front rank of the administration. 
 He became from that time forth a leading statesman, and 
 the first use which he made of the authority thereby con- 
 ceded to him, was to support Lord Liverpool in bringing 
 back to the Cabinet Mr Canning, who at the period of the 
 Queen's trial had retired from it. 
 
 Mr Canning was not in all respects a favourite with the 
 Duke, who admired his talents, but distrusted his political 
 honesty. The terms of intimacy in which he lived with 
 many of the leaders of the Opposition offended the Duke's 
 notions of what party fidelity ought to be. But aware of 
 the need that there was of eloquence in the Cabinet, and 
 not desiring to see Canning either shelved in India, or thrust 
 into the Opposition, he approved of Lord Liverpool's 
 inviting him to become Secretary for Foreign Affairs, and 
 the invitation was accepted. The Duke, therefore, when he 
 quitted London in September, 1822, carried with him a 
 letter of instructions which Mr Canning had signed, but 
 Avhieh had been drawn up by Lord Castlereagh, and ac- 
 cepted word for word by Lord Castlereagh's successor. I 
 have thought it necessary to make these statements, because 
 Mr Canning, at a later period, took credit to himself in the 
 House of Commons for a policy which was in point of fact 
 that of Lord Castlereagh and the Duke of Wellington. 
 Indeed there never was a time throughout his long life, 
 when the Duke was not entirely opposed to interference in 
 the internal affairs of other nations. He was no admirer, 
 certainly, of revolutions, and entertained a fixed dread of 
 democracy ; but as he always objected either to promote or 
 to stop a revolution elsewhere, so he was always ready to 
 enter into relations with the de facto Grovernments of 
 foreign states ; — whether, as in Portugal under Don Miguel, 
 these took the form of Absolutism, or assumed, as in the 
 Spanish colonies of South America, a purely republican 
 shape. 
 
 I
 
 1822.] THE DUKE ABROAD. 299 
 
 The reader who is curious to know wliat the Duke, as the 
 representative of Great Britain, did at Paris, in Vienna, 
 and subsequently at Yerona, must consult the larger edition 
 of this work, where alone, I believe, among existing publi- 
 cations the tale has been told correctly and at length. For 
 the present I content myself with saying that he laboured 
 when in Paris to stop the invasion of Spain, that failing in 
 that object, he obtained an assurance that France would 
 not call upon the northern powers to help her, and that he 
 thereby confined the war which followed within the limits 
 of the Peninsula, where it soon came to an end. In Vienna 
 he discussed with the Emperor of Russia the Greek ques- 
 tion then rising into importance, and prevailed upon him 
 to refrain from taking part with the insurgents by attacking 
 Turkey. As to the Spanish colonies then in the depth of 
 their struggle for independence, he contented himself with 
 explaining clearly what England proposed to do. And 
 finally on the subject of the slave-trade, for the abolition of 
 which the English people were then clamorous, he was 
 obliged to accept the personal assurance of the Sovereigns 
 of Russia, Prussia, and even of France, that they abhorred 
 it, and were ready to reissue the joint proclamation, which 
 in 1815 had pronounced it to be " a disgrace to humanity." 
 
 A great deal of what I have in substance stated occurred 
 in Paris and at Vienna. In the latter city the Duke met 
 Kings and Emperors in semi-private interviews, and the 
 arguments which he addressed to them were repeated more 
 at length when the Congress assembled formally at Verona. 
 Into the discussion of one not unimportant point, however, 
 the Duke steadily refused to be drawn. Italy was then 
 occupied by Austrian troops, and the Sovereigns, wishing 
 to withdraw them, desired to consult the Duke as to the 
 best mode of doing so. Now, as England had never con- 
 sented to the overthrow by foreign bayonets of liberal 
 institutions in Italy, so the Duke declined to give an opinion, 
 or even to be present, when the subject of the return of 
 these troops to their own homes was discussed. The Duke 
 incurred great odium amongst the Continental powers by 
 thus holding back ; indeed they did not hesitate to accuse
 
 300 MR ALLEX, THE QUAKER. [1822. 
 
 constitutional England, of making common cause througK 
 him with the revolutionists all over the world. 
 
 A story is told of the Duke's journey from Vienna 
 to Verona, which is curious if it be true. At first he 
 hesitated whether, having been invited to meet the Sove- 
 reigns in the former city, it would be becoming in him to 
 attend them to the latter. But a little reflection seems to 
 have reassured him on that head, and he announced to the 
 home Government his determination ; of which they ap- 
 proved. He was in the midst of his preparations when 
 Mr "William Allen, a Quaker gentleman of great notoriety, 
 walked into his apartment. Mr Allen had for years 
 written and spoken on the subject of the slave-trade. 
 Every public man in England knew him, and he was a 
 correspondent of most of the princes and statesmen of the 
 Continent. " Well, Mr Allen," asked the Duke, " what can 
 I do for you ?" "I must go to Verona," was the answer, 
 " But you can't do that. Haven't you read the proclamation, 
 that only persons attached to one or other of the embas- 
 sies will'be admitted into the city." " Eriend, I must go to 
 Verona, and thou must take me." " Very well, if I must 
 I must ; but the only way in which I can help you, is to 
 make you one of my couriers. If you like to ride forward 
 in that capacity, you may do so." The story goes on to 
 say, that the Quaker closed with the proposal, that he rode 
 a stage in front of the Duke all the way to Verona, and 
 that having gained the entree, he lectured Kings and Em- 
 perors, and their ministers, daily on the iniquity of the 
 slave-trade. 
 
 One other fact well deserves to be recorded, because it is 
 characteristic not only of the man, but of the age in which 
 he lived. A dead-set was made at the Duke throughout 
 his residence in Verona, to win him by the blandishments 
 of women, as well as by the not very creditable proposals 
 of men, to yield certain points on Avhich his mind was made 
 up. " Do these people know me ? " he exclaimed indignantly 
 one day, bursting into the room of one of his attaches ; 
 " what do they take me for, that they insult me with such 
 a proposal as that ? " throwing down a note, marked confi-
 
 1822.] HIS STEICT INTEGRITY. COl 
 
 dential iu the Hand-writing of an eminent statesman. And 
 so it was with the ladies. Some of the most beautiful and 
 fascinating women in Europe made Verona glad with their 
 presence, and all beset the Duke, but to no purpose. He 
 met their advances half way, played with them to his 
 heart's content, but kept his own covmsel. They got no- 
 thing out of him, except what he was free to give Avithout 
 the slightest approach to a breach of the confidence reposed 
 in him elsewhere. 
 
 The point of all others on which the Duke was most 
 pressed had reference to Spain, and the proper mode of 
 dealing with her. Prance took the lead in this discussion, 
 and submitted to her allies three proposals, to each of 
 which she requested a categorical reply. They all tended 
 to war, and Austria, Prussia, and Eussia assented to them 
 each after its own fashion. But the Duke was entirely op- 
 posed to Avar. He shoAved in a well-Avritten state-paper, 
 that so long as Spain and Portugal refrained from molest- 
 ing or threatening their neighbours, it would be an act not 
 only unjust but uuAvise to compel them by force of arms to 
 change their form of government. He might as well have 
 reasoned Avith the Avinds. The Bourbons Avere bent on 
 maintaining Avhat they held to be the dignity of their 
 family. Austria, Prussia, and Eussia were beside them- 
 selves with fear of liberalism. The Dvike and the country 
 Avhich he represented Avere denounced as the abettors of 
 anarchy, because they refused to join in a crusade against 
 free institutions everywhere. 
 
 Of the temper of the continental powers at that time 
 towards England some idea Avill be formed, if we observe 
 the eagerness Avith Avhich their representatives took up and 
 circulated among themselves reports injurious to her hon- 
 our. One of these reports, Avhich proved a frequent siibject 
 of conversation in Verona, deserves, from its very absurdity, 
 to be specified. There Avas a Spanish gentleman, a M. 
 Carnacero, Avith Avhom the Duke had formed an acquaint- 
 ance in Paris, and Avho, happening to arrive at Vienna while 
 he Avas there, called upon him, and not unnaturally dis- 
 cussed with him the state and prospects of his own country.
 
 302 AT VEROXA. [1822. 
 
 The visits of that gentleman to the Duke's hotel had not 
 passed unobserved, and now finding how determined the 
 Duke was not to commit his Government to a policy of in- 
 tervention, a story was got up in Verona, that M. Carna- 
 cero had been employed to conclude with him a convention, 
 whereby England engaged in return for certain commercial 
 and other privileges to support the cause of Spain against 
 France at the Congress. The tale, as I need scarcely 
 stop to observe, had no foundation whatever in fact, though 
 the English newspapers Avould appear to have given some 
 countenance to it. 
 
 Such was one of the silly rumours in spreading which 
 ministers and attaches sought to avenge themselves on the 
 integrity of the Duke and the ultra-liberalism of the 
 Government which he represented. Another, of a graver 
 nature, scarcely admits of so clear an explanation. There 
 had been some correspondence of late between the Portu- 
 guese Government and Mr Canning on the subject of the 
 treaty by which England was bound to defend Portugal 
 against foreign invasion. In the course of this correspond- 
 ence the Portuguese minister informed Mr Canning that he 
 was about to conclude an alliance offensive and defensive 
 with Spain, and requested to be informed how far such 
 alliance would effect the guarantee. But before any answer 
 could be sent to the question, he communicated the fact 
 that the alliance had actually been concluded. The penin- 
 sular nations, equally with the Allies, made as much of this 
 correspondence as its terms would warrant. They arrived 
 at the same conclusion — that Mr Canning had pledged his 
 Government to defend Portugal against invasion from 
 Erance, even if by joining Spain in a war of aggression she 
 should bring the evil ou herself. The Duke, of course, 
 declared that he did not so read Mr Canning's assurances ; 
 nevertheless he considered the matter to be so important 
 that he wrote home about it, and advised Mr Canning to 
 embrace the earliest opportunity of putting himself and the 
 British Cabinet right before the rest of Europe. 
 
 Before bringing this brief sketch of the Congress of Verona 
 to an endjl maybe allowed to state that the minds of the conti-
 
 1822.] TRIES TO STOP WAR. SOS 
 
 nental Sovereigns and theirministers were too mucli engrossed 
 with schemes for the repression of revolutionary principles 
 in Europe, to admit of their paying the slightest attention 
 to the Duke's proposals in regard to the Spanish South- 
 American colonies. They read his paper, which was drawn 
 up in the spirit of his instructions, and which he handed in 
 at the meeting of the 26th of November ; but they declined 
 to take it into consideration, contenting themselves with 
 the remark, " That it was a subject of deep regret to them 
 that England should stand forth as the protector of Jaco- 
 bins in all parts of the world ; and that they (the Allies) 
 had neither the power SKfr the inclination to prevent it." 
 It is scarcely necessary to add that the coolness which was 
 already apparent on their side suffered no abatement in 
 consequence of this communication, and that the Duke 
 withdrew from among them more dissatisfied than ever 
 Avith the turn which affairs had taken, and more distrustful 
 of its issues. 
 
 Satisfied that he could do no more good at Verona, the 
 Duke took his leave of the Emperors of Russia and of 
 Austria, the former on the 27th, the latter on the 2Sth of 
 November. They parted excellent friends personally, but 
 just as widely separated on public questions as they had 
 been when they met. He made, however, one effort more 
 to avert the danger with which the peace of Euroj^e was 
 threatened, by appealing again to the Erench Grovernment as 
 he passed through Paris, and by communicating privately, 
 soon after his return to London, with General Alava and 
 others of his friends in Spain. But both the French and 
 the Spanish Grovernments proved obstinate. Erance, indeed, 
 indicated something more than a fixed resolution to coerce 
 Spain. She spoke in a tone of suspicion of the extraordi- 
 nary zeal of the English in hunting down pirates in the Carib- 
 bean seas, and warned the Duke that she would never con- 
 sent to an increase of British territory in that direction, even 
 if it were made over as tlie price of the English alliance with 
 Spain. To this line of argument the Duke replied by assuring 
 the Erench minister that for accessions of territory in the 
 Caribbean seas, or elsewhere, England had no wish ; that she
 
 304 SPAIN OVERCOME. [1825. 
 
 would not accept Cuba as a gift, if it were offered ; and that 
 the project of selling her support to the Spanish Govern- 
 ment for such a price had been entertained neither by Eng- 
 land nor by Spain. With respect to Spain, all that he could 
 ofter "was advice, -which he conveyed in a friendly letter, of 
 Avliich Lord Titzroy Somerset was the bearer. But Spanish 
 pride could not consent to yield even to the Duke's entrea- 
 ties what Trance had demanded with arms in her hand. 
 The results are well known. A French army entered 
 Spain, the Spanish liberals found themselves unsupported by 
 tlie bulk of the nation, and Ferdinaiid was reinstated in 
 absolute jjower, which he subsequently used to abrogate 
 the Salique law, and to change the succession in favour of 
 his daughter.
 
 £C5 
 
 CHAPTEE XXXI. 
 
 LORD Liverpool's administration. 
 
 Two not unimportant results, so far as the Duke was per- 
 sonally concerned, ensued upon his mission to Yerona. He 
 was furiously attacked in the House of Lords for having 
 betrayed the liberties of Europe, and defended himself in a 
 speech which, both because of its length and because of the lo- 
 gical tenor of its arguments, gained for him great applause, 
 and encouraged him to speak again. On the other hand the 
 divergence of his general policy from that of Mr Canning 
 became every day more marked. The Duke, having failed 
 to avert the invasion of Spain and the subsequent revolution 
 in Portugal, which restored absolutism, was indisposed to 
 move further. Mr Canning, accepting both incidents as 
 personal wrongs to himself, threatened war, or at all events 
 the non-recognition of things as they were. It was under 
 the pressure of this feeling, indeed, that he made in the 
 House of Commons his famous announcement, which had 
 really nothing to recommend it except the eloquence 
 with which it was uttered. It was not Mr Canning who 
 " called the New World into existence to redress the ba- 
 lance of the Old," for the Spanish colonies had achieved 
 their own independence without him ; and whether Spain 
 had been overrun by Prance or not, the establishment in 
 these colonies of consular agents by Grreat Britain had 
 long been determined upon. But the announcement itself, 
 and still more the tone in which it was delivered, offended 
 the Duke ; and the Duke, once seriously offended, was not 
 
 20
 
 305 STATE OF THE CABINET. [1823. 
 
 easily reconciled. He had somewhat distrusted Mr Canning 
 before ; lie distrusted him to a much greater degree now. 
 And circumstances continually occurred to deepen this feel- 
 ing. It appeared to the Duke that a minister has no busi- 
 ness to exchange ideas, on questions still under consider- 
 ation in the Cabinet, with the leaders of the opposite party, 
 and, rightly or wrongly, he came to the conclusion that such 
 was Mr Canning's practice. 
 
 It is no bvisiness of mine to determine how far the 
 Duke's susj)icions were or were not well founded. There 
 cannot be a doubt, however, that the condition of the 
 Cabinet itself was very little satisfactory to one trained as 
 he had been. It was divided into three sections, not one 
 of which reposed entire confidence in any other. Mr Can- 
 ning, Mr Huskisson, Mr Eol)inson, and their followers, ad- 
 vocated liberalism at home and abroad. They were sup- 
 porters of the Catholic claims, favotu*ed the entire repeal 
 of restrictions upon commerce, and were desirous of press- 
 ing constitutional governments upon all the nations of the 
 world. Diametrically opposed to the Canningites, were 
 the ministers of what may be called the old Tory party ; 
 viz., Lord Eldon, Lord "Westmoreland, Lord Bathurst, and 
 perhaps Mr Peel. I say, perhaps, because, whatever Mr 
 Peel's opinions might have been in 1822-23, they under- 
 went before long great modification. These statesmen were 
 opposed to any further concessions to the Eoman Catholics. 
 They deprecated interference with the established laws 
 aftccting trade and navigation ; and they looked with dis- 
 favour on every attempt on the continent of Europe to 
 give to the people a voice in the management of their own 
 affairs. And lastly, there were the Grenvillites, liberal as 
 regarded the laws against Eoman Catholics, but indifferent, 
 to say the least, on questions of commercial policy, and by 
 no means disposed to risk old alliances for the sake of 
 giving constitutions to foreign states. 
 
 It has been commonly supposed that the Duke of Wel- 
 lington threw the weight of his influence into the scale of 
 the old Tories. This is a great mistake. The Duke had no 
 objection on principle, provided the way was made plain
 
 1823.] THE DUKE'S VIEWS. 307 
 
 before him, to repeal the disqualifying enactments wliieh 
 shut out the King's Eoman Catholic subjects from Parlia- 
 ment and from places of authority and trust under the 
 Crown ; and on questions of trade and navigation, his mind 
 was only so far made up, that he desired to preserve for 
 England her traditionary superiority at sea, and to main- 
 tain the landed aristocracy as the preponderating influence 
 in the state. But he was always ready to consider on 
 their own merits such questions as his colleagues might 
 bring forward ; and to bow to the decision of the majority, 
 so long as a great principle was not at issue. 
 
 Finally, in regard to foreign politics, his was the true 
 doctrine of non-intervention. He argued thus : " It is no 
 concern of ours what forms of government other nations 
 think fit to set up. If they prefer despotism, let them 
 keep it. If they succeed in replacing despotism with free 
 institutions, don't let us interfere. Our sole duty is to see 
 that they observe existing treaties, and afibrd to the King's 
 subjects, when mixing with them, protection to life and 
 property." 
 
 Holding these opinions, and making no secret of holding 
 them, he stood apart from the three rival sections, and 
 generally mediated among them. This was not always an 
 easy task, and it proved the more difficult that the King 
 not only had his own views of things, often at variance with 
 the decisions of his Cabinet, but, with excessive wrong-head- 
 eduess, was in the habit of intriguing for theii' accomplish- 
 ment, as well with the leaders of the opposition as with 
 individual ministers on whom he felt that he could make an 
 impression. The efi'ect upon a man so high-minded as the 
 Duke was such, that over and over again he thought seri- 
 ously of letting things take their course. Indeed, it was 
 only a strong sense of duty which restrained him from 
 breaking up the Grovernment by retiring from it. For on 
 one point his convictions were settled. He did not believe 
 that the "Whigs, as a party, were strong enough to conduct 
 the government, except by forcing on measures which must 
 lead to a radical change in the principles of the constitu- 
 tion ; and as he entertained a nervous apprehension of such
 
 303 CONDITIOX OF IRELAND. [1823, 
 
 changes, of wLicli he had seen the fatal results in continental 
 states, he kept his place in the Cabinet, that he might urge 
 upon his coReagues the necessity of bearing with one 
 another, and of making all possible concessions, rather 
 than allow power to pass into hands which would certainly 
 abuse it. 
 
 Such were the circumstances under which that current of 
 legislation set in, of which the final issues could never be 
 doubtful. Law after law was repealed under the shelter of 
 which England was supposed to have risen to the height of 
 her commercial prosperity, till, subject to one remarkable 
 reservation, the axiom began to be received, that, among na- 
 tions not less than among individuals, they act the wisest 
 part who buy in the cheapest market aud sell in the 
 dearest. 
 
 All this while other and more urgent cares pressed the 
 Government from the side of Ireland. In 1823, and for 
 many years afterwards, that portion of the empire was in 
 the most deplorable condition. Her aristocracy had be- 
 come almost universally bankrupt, her energies were para- 
 lyzed, her commerce stagnant. She could boast of no manu- 
 factures, except in the north, and a population terribly re- 
 dundant existed, but could scarcely be said to live. The 
 staple food of a cottier tenantry was the potato, which the 
 lands, let and sub-let, till they reached the lowest point of 
 occupancy, supplied, but never in excess. Hence a single 
 bad harvest was invariably followed by distress, which, 
 if the season continued unfavourable into a second year, 
 produced a famine. Moreover, as there was no law which 
 gave to the indigent a claim on their parishes against starva- 
 tion, mendicancy became universal, or nearly so, among the 
 humbler classes. After scratching up the earth and planting 
 the potato in the plot of ground which surrounded their 
 cabins, whole families went forth year by year to beg ; or 
 else they crossed the Channel at harvest-time into England 
 and Scotland, in the hope of earning there money enough to 
 pay the exorbitant rents, for which they had made themselves 
 liable. Meanwliile two rival churches, each by a process of 
 its own, wrung from this mendicant population the means
 
 1823.] THE RIVAL CHURCHES. 309 
 
 of subsistence for tlieir clergy. From the entire population, 
 of which its members comprised one-sixth, the Established 
 Church took tithes, and was aided by the law in doing so ; 
 while from four-and-a-half out of the five remaining sixths, 
 the Eoman Catholic Church exacted fees quite as large in 
 amount as the tithes ; of which it enforced the payment by 
 the application of threats more terrible than human law 
 could hold out. Is it to be wondered at, if both burdens, 
 but especially the former, were borne impatiently ? 
 
 The obvious remedies for evils such as these, are encour- 
 agement to emigration, a legal provision for the poor, a com- 
 pulsory commutation of tithes, the introduction of capital 
 into the country, and with it the establishment of manufac- 
 tures, and of an improved system of agriculture. There must 
 necessarily follow upon all this, such a pressure on the land- 
 lord class as shall compel the needy to dispose of their 
 estates, and transfer the property in the soil to men bet- 
 ter able, and more willing, to improve it. As yet, however, 
 visions of this sort seem scarcely to have entered into the 
 minds of the most imaginative of our statesmen. A law was 
 indeed passed, authorizing land-owners and tithe proprietors 
 in Ireland to arrange between themselves, if so disposed, 
 plans of commutation ; which, when fully settled and regis- 
 tered, were to be binding on them and on their successors.* 
 But except in this particular, which as far as it went proved 
 useful enough, no steps were taken to better the condition 
 of the Irish people, who became in consequence an easy 
 prey to every demagogue, possessed of the small measure of 
 talent which was necessary to work upon their credulity and 
 abuse it. 
 
 Among these there was one, whose success as an agitator 
 has never been equalled in modern times, but who was either 
 too wise or too wary to aim at a prouder name, by becom- 
 ing the leader of a rebellion. Daniel O'Connell, after vai-i- 
 ous preliminary experiments, succeeded in establishing the 
 
 * The law in question, Mr Goiilburn's Act, was accepted by upwards of 
 1500 parishes; and so well and justly were the commutations settled, that 
 only six appeals were made, of which four were dismissed ; in one the amount 
 of tithes was raised, and only in one lowered.
 
 SIO DANIEL O'CONNELL. [1823. 
 
 Catholic Association, and then brought, by means of it, the 
 "whole weight of the masses, headed by the priesthood, to 
 bear upon one point. How the society was constituted and 
 worked, and to what end it was directed, it is not the busi- 
 ness of this biography to explain. Enough is done when I 
 state that its aftairs were managed with such exceeding skill 
 that its leaders^ while they kept all Ireland in a state of ex- 
 citement, were themselves placed beyond the reach of inter- 
 ference by the law and its officers. 
 
 From that time forth the ingenuity of Lord Liverpoors 
 Cabinet was taxed to meet the difficulties of a case which has 
 scarcely a parallel in history. It could not be said that 
 Ireland was in a state of insurrection, because the people, 
 though completely organized, professed nothing but loyalty 
 to the throne. Here and there, indeed, individuals were 
 forced to give up their holdings, while houses were broken 
 into, and arms and ammunition carried off. But outrages of 
 this sort were of old standing, nor could the Government 
 entertain greater abhorrence of them than was expressed by 
 Mr O'Connell, and his subordinate agents in the movement. 
 
 Meanwhile the Protestant section of the Irish community 
 was not idle. Complaining that their rulers had deserted 
 them, they combined for self-defence, and through their 
 Orange lodges, held language quite as determined as that of 
 the Catholic Association. Though in point of numbers in- 
 considerable, as compared with their rivals, they possessed 
 by far the larger share of the property, and almost all the 
 political influence of the country. Hence every effort made 
 to conciliate, or even to deal fairly by the Eoman Catholics, 
 brought down upon the Government the hostility of tho 
 Orangemen ; while the promotion of an Orangeman to place, 
 or even his friendly reception at the Viceregal Court, ex- 
 asperated the lloman Catholic mind, and called forth volumes 
 of abuse from its great director. 
 
 Ever since the passing of the Act of Union there had been 
 bitter complaints on the part of the Irish Roman Catholics, 
 that faith had not been kept with them. This was not in 
 strict propriety the fact, for whatever Mr Pitt's intentions 
 might be, he had no power, in despite of the Crown and the
 
 1823.] MR PITT ELAMED UX JUSTLY. C:i 
 
 Parliament, to pay the Eomish priests out of tlie Consoli- 
 dated Eund, or to place the Eoman Catholic laity on a foot- 
 ing of political equality with Protestants. Year by year 
 motions were accordingly made to repeal the laws which bore 
 oppressively upon the Eomanists, and one by one the strict- 
 ly penal statutes either fell into disuse or were swept away. 
 At the period of which I am now writing, there remained 
 only a single enactment which, requiring the affirmation of a 
 particular oath, hindered Romanist peers and- commoners 
 from sitting and voting in either House of Parliament, and 
 from holding certain offices under the Crown. This enact- 
 ment was spoken of as a disqualifying law, and strenuous 
 efforts were made to get rid of it. They failed for a time, 
 majorities in both Houses declaring against the repeal. But 
 on each successive division the majorities in the Commons 
 became less decided, till in the end the opponents of what 
 was called Catholic Emancipation found themselves in a mi- 
 nority. The hope of the Protestant party was thenceforth 
 fixed on the House of Lords, and it did not disappoint them ; 
 though even there public opinion showed symptoms of wa- 
 vering, which grew more and more manifest as sons siicceeded 
 to their fathers, and new names were added to the list of the 
 peerage. 
 
 It is not necessary to pursue this subject further. 
 Through many years the battle of Catholic Emancipation 
 raged, bringing into play, on both sides, traits of character, 
 on which no thoughtful politician now looks back except 
 with sorrow. "With these, however, we have no special con- 
 cern ; at all events till the proper time come for explaining 
 how the Duke of "Wellington dealt with the question, and 
 upon what grounds of reason his policy rested.
 
 Si2 
 
 CHAPTEE XXXII. 
 
 THE DUKE AND MR STEPHENSON THE DUKE AT ST 
 
 PETERSBURG. 
 
 Among other peculiarities incident to the Duke's strongly- 
 marked character, there was one which occasioned from 
 time to time a good deal of anxiety to his friends. He 
 seemed to claim an exemption from the ordinary physical 
 infirmities of human nature. Sickness, for example, no 
 matter in what cause originating, he regarded as something 
 which ought to be concealed. It was a sign of weakness of 
 which he was ashamed, and which he would scarcely acknow- 
 ledge even to the medical men who attended him. In 1823, 
 when on a visit to the Marquis of Hertford, he was attacked 
 with inflammation, which gave way only to jjrofuse bleeding, 
 and left great weakness behind. He could not deny the fact 
 that he had been ill — ^but he scouted the idea that there was 
 the slightest danger, or that any serious inconvenience had 
 occurred through his illness to himself or to others. In 
 1824, cholera, not in a very mild form, attacked him, and its 
 effects were long seen in his wasted frame and emaciated 
 countenance. He never would allow that he had suffered 
 from more than a slight derangement of the stomach. "Wind, 
 rain, hail, snow, could not keep him back from the discharge 
 of the commonest ceremonial duties. He would appear at 
 guard mountings or reviews in the full-dress costume of the 
 season, whatever it might be ; while all around him were 
 cloaked and wrapped up against the weather.* Hence they 
 
 * It is fair to add, that the Duke wore, on such occasions, an ample en- 
 casement of undcr-clothin;?.
 
 1824.] MR STEPHENSON. 313 
 
 •nlio wrote or spoke to him about some malady under "whicli 
 it was known that he had been labouring, never got a more 
 explicit acknowledgment than this, — " I was a little out of 
 sorts, but I'm all right now ; " or, " I tried to bidly a cold, 
 but it beat me." 
 
 And here it may not be out of place to make mention of 
 a cii'cumstance, whieb not only illustrates the fact of which 
 I am speaking, but brings prominently into view both the 
 kindness of the Duke's nature, and his shrinking aversion 
 from tbe very appearance of deceit. He had become partially 
 deaf in one ear, and felt impatient under tbe afiliction. All 
 the legitimate skill and science which London could supply 
 were called in, but without effect. At last, Mr Stephen- 
 son, the celebrated aurist, was recommended to the Duke 
 as one who had been eminently successful in similar cases. 
 The Duke sent for him. After trying, to no purpose, a less 
 energetic method of treatment, Mr Stephenson had recourse 
 to his great remedy, — the injection by a syringe into the 
 ear of a strong solution of caustic. " I don't think," the 
 Duke used to say, " that I ever suffered so much in my 
 life. It was not pain : it was something far worse. The 
 sense of hearing became so acute, that I wished myself 
 stone deaf. The noise of a carriage passing along the street 
 was like the loudest thunder, and everybody that spoke 
 seemed to be shrieking at the very top of his voice." I 
 am not prepared to assign a reason for this unlooked-for 
 result of an experiment which had succeeded in many other 
 instances ; I only know the fact, and that the Duke, as was 
 his wont, bore it without manifesting any token that he was 
 uncomfortable. He went out and came in as usual, and 
 when he retired to bed, none of his household suspected 
 that there was anything wrong with him. 
 
 By great good fortune Dr Hume, his friend and family 
 physician, who happened to be in attendance for other 
 reasons, called next morning about eleven o'clock. He was 
 shown into the Duke's room, and found him sitting at the 
 table, unshaved and unwashed, with blood-shot eyes and a 
 flushed cheek, and observed that when he rose he staggered 
 like a drunken man. His whole appearance, indeed, to use
 
 311 niS LOVE OF TRUTn. [1825. 
 
 Dr Hume's expression, " was that of one wlio had not yet 
 recovered from a terrible debaucli." Now, as Hume knew 
 perfectly well that his illustrious patient never committed 
 such debauches, he became greatly alarmed, and expressed 
 himself so. " I fancy there is something wrong with my 
 ear," was the Duke's reply ; " I wish you would look at it." 
 Hume did look at it. A furious inflammation was going on, 
 which, had it been permitted to run its course for another 
 hour, must have reached the brain. Hume ordered his 
 patient immediately to bed, and sent off for Sir Henry 
 Halford and Sir Astley Cooper. Vigorous remedies were 
 applied, and the inflammation ceased. But the sense of 
 hearing on that side of the head was destroyed for ever. 
 
 I must not omit the sequel to this little tale. The 
 grief and mortification of Mr Stephenson when he heard of 
 the results of his practice knew no bounds. He hastened 
 to Apsley House, and being admitted to the Duke's presence, 
 expressed himself as any right-minded person, under the 
 circumstances, would have done. But he was instantly 
 stopped, though in the kindest manner, — " Don't say a word 
 about it ; you acted for the best ; it has been unfortunate, 
 no doubt, for both of us, but you are not at all to blame." 
 
 Grateful for this reception, Mr Stephenson went on to 
 say : " But it will be the ruin of me. Nobody will employ 
 me any more, when they hear that I have been the cause of 
 such suff'ering and danger to your Grace." " Why should 
 they hear anything about it r " replied the Duke ; " keep 
 your own counsel, and depend upon it I won't say a word 
 to any one." " Then your Grace will allow me to attend 
 you as usual, which will sliow them that you have not with- 
 drawn your confidence from me." " No," replied the Duke, 
 still kiudly but firmly ; " I can't do that, for that would be a 
 lie." So strong, even in a case which made no common ap- 
 peal to his generosity, was the Duke's love of truth. He 
 would not act a falsehood any more than he would speak 
 one. Let me not, however, fail to do Mr Stephenson's 
 memory the same justice which the Duke did to his pro- 
 fessional character while he lived. " It was not his fault," 
 he used to say. " He distinctly warned me that if I felt
 
 1825.] RUSSIAN SUCCESSIOX. 315 
 
 any uneasiness in the ear I must get cupped at once ; and 
 I said, ' Very well.' But I never was cupped in my life. I 
 never thought more about it, and so, I supj)ose, the inflam- 
 mation had time to run on." 
 
 The Duke underwent this operation because he was in a 
 hurry to set out upon a mission which had been assigned to 
 him. The Emperor Alexander of Russia was dead. He had 
 died under peculiar circumstances, — disgusted with what he 
 believed to be the ingratitude of Europe towards its deliverer, 
 and wrung to the heart by the discovery of an extensive plot 
 for the assassination of himself and of every member of his 
 family. It was the discovery of this plot indeed that led to 
 the postponement of his next brother, Constantino, and the 
 selection of the Grand Duke Nicholas to succeed Alexander 
 on the throne. Eor Constantine was as iiniversally hated 
 as jSTicholas was beloved ; and though the conspirators had 
 doomed Nicholas, like the rest of the E-omanofl's, to perish, it 
 was believed that they would be less likely or less able to 
 carry their designs into effect with a popular, than with an 
 unpopular, monarch on the throne. 
 
 The accession of Nicholas was an event in which the 
 people of England took a deep interest. He was under- 
 stood to be brave, obstinate, and warlike, and the general 
 impression was that to conciliate the Russian people as well 
 as to gratify his own tastes, he would pluuge into war with 
 Turkey. Now next to the too-great aggrandizement of 
 France, there is nothing which English statesmen have for 
 many years past contemplated with greater apprehension 
 than the advance of Russia towards the west. To uphold 
 the Turkish Empire has thus become a sort of traditionary 
 policy in London, and to the Duke of Wellington was in- 
 trusted, in 1825, the delicate task of promoting it. His 
 ostensible business was to congratulate Nicholas on acceding 
 to the throne, his real object to sound the Emperor, and if 
 possible to dissuade him from taking up the cause of Greece 
 and making war upon the Turks. 
 
 Apart from the Greek question, in which Russia claimed 
 on religious grounds a special right to interfere, there 
 were various causes of quarrel at this time between her
 
 316 niS JOURNEY TO RUSSIA. [1826. 
 
 and the Ottoman Empire. 1 need not stop to particularize 
 them now, because I shall be obliged to refer to them by 
 and by, but it may be well to state that each charged the 
 other with breach of faith, and that Eussia had gone so far 
 as to withdraw her representative from Constantinople. The 
 two powers accordingly stood towards each other as angry 
 boys stand before they strike ; the attitude of Turkey 
 towards Russia being that of the little boy who is not un- 
 conscious of his weakness, the attitude of Eussia towards 
 Turkey that of the big boy who bullies. 
 
 The Duke, only partially recovered from the effects of Mr 
 Stephenson's practice, quitted London in the beginning of 
 February, 1S2G. He took Berlin on his way, and reaching 
 that city on the 26th, was welcomed by the Court, the army, 
 and the people in the most gratifying manner. They gave 
 him, however, little encouragement to hope for a fortunate 
 issue of his undertaking. The Emperor Nicholas was re- 
 presented to be bent upon war, indeed he was stated to have 
 refused all arbitration unless the Allies should offer to inter- 
 fere in a body, and insist upon the compliance of Turkey 
 with his demands. Tliese were not very satisfactory tidings, 
 but the Duke heard, without seeming to take much interest 
 in them, and at the end of a few days continued his journey. 
 
 He arrived in St Petersburg on the 2nd of March, and 
 the same evening had an interview with Count ISTesselrode. 
 It was conducted on both sides with some finesse, and on 
 the part of the Duke with a good deal of reserve. Tlie 
 great object of the Russian minister seemed to be to impress 
 the Duke with the belief that the Emperor, his master, was 
 not desirous of war ; indeed, he repeated this declaration so 
 often, and, as it sometimes appeared, so gratuitously, that 
 the Duke came to the conclusion that M. Nesselrode must 
 have lieard of the inquiries which he had been making at 
 Berlin, and was anxious to remove the impression created by 
 the results of these inquiries. Partly because he entertained 
 this suspicion, partly because his own papers were still upon 
 the road, and that he was unwilling to commit himself until 
 they should arrive, and till he should have an opportunity of 
 conversing with others, the Duke confined himself to general
 
 1S26.] AT ST PETERSBURG. 317 
 
 declarations, that if the Emperor were really desirous of 
 avoiding war, he would find the King, his master, ready to 
 do all in his power to help Russia out of her difficulties. 
 Count Xesselrode, on the other hand, expressed his anxiety 
 to be made acquainted at once with the details of Avhatever 
 plans of accommodation the Duke Avas commissioned to pro- 
 pose. " Such confidence," he observed, " would be of the 
 greatest possible use to him, because it would instruct him 
 what to say to the ministers of the other powers." But 
 the only answer Avhich he could extract from the Duke was 
 this : " Tell them the truth ; that his Britannic Majesty's 
 Grovernment is disposed to do all in their power to enable 
 you to get the better of your difficulties." * 
 
 On the following day the Duke was admitted to his first 
 au lience by the Czar. It lasted a long time, and impressed 
 him with a very high opinion of the Emperor's disposition 
 and abilities. There was no reseiwe about him, nor any 
 affectation of it. He declared himself averse to war, but did 
 not see how he could keep out of it with honour. This was 
 not owing, as the English Government seemed to imagine, 
 to any mawkish sympathy for the Grreeks. They were in 
 rebellion against their legitimate Sovereign, and if he were 
 to make their religion an excuse for interfering by force of 
 arms between them and the Porte, he should have no right 
 to complain if the Porte in return were to stir up his own 
 Mahomedan subjects to rebel against him. His ground of 
 difi'erence with Turkey lay nearer home ; for not to this day 
 had the Porte fulfilled its engagements to his predecessor. 
 And having exhausted all the resources of diplomacy, there 
 remained for him now no alternative except to send in an 
 ultimatum, and to abide by it. 
 
 This language was so diflerent from that which he had 
 been led to expect, and so much at variance with what the 
 Emperor Alexander used to employ, that for a moment the 
 Duke felt inclined to doubt its sincerity. But he found, on 
 inquiry, that it corresponded exactly with everything which 
 his jSIajesty had said to the ministers of other powers ; he 
 could not, therefore, believe it to be assumed. His first 
 
 * The Duke's MS. correspondence.
 
 318 niS FIRST DESPATCH HOME. [1826. 
 
 despatcli home is, accordingly, written in a cheerful spirit, 
 and contains an expression of his belief that there will be 
 uo war in Europe, especially for the sake of Greece. But 
 he had a more difficult game to play in discussing the dif- 
 ferences between Eussia and Turkey, arising out of the 
 breach or assumed breach of the treaty of Bucharest. A 
 word or two in reference to the nature of that treaty will 
 be necessary in order to give the reader some understanding 
 of the sort of negotiation to which the Duke now applied 
 himself. 
 
 It had been settled in 1822, at the Congress of Vienna, 
 that the Allies should exercise their influence in order to 
 bring the Porte to reason, and prevent a rupture with Rus- 
 sia. The matter to be handled was the fulfilment of a 
 treaty, whereby the Porte had agreed to withdraw its troops 
 from Wallachia and Moldavia ; to restore the Hospodars to 
 the Principalities, with their own police under them ; to re- 
 build the churches which had been destroyed during the 
 war, and to adjust the affairs of Servia with certain depu- 
 ties, who were to repair to Constantinople for the purpose. 
 Purthermore, the Porte consented to give free passage into 
 the Black Sea to the merchant ships of all nations ; while 
 Russia promised to withdraw from whatever portion of ter- 
 ritory she might have occupied, and to renew in form her 
 diplomatic relations with Turkey. 
 
 Time passed, and the stipulations of this treaty were on 
 both sides evaded. A fort in Mongrelia, which the Eus- 
 siaus had seized, Avas found so important in keeping open 
 the communications with her army in Mount Caucasus, that 
 she made no move to abandon it ; whilst on the side of 
 Turkey no churches were rebuilt, and, as was alleged, at 
 least in St Petersburg, Turkish troops still occupied the 
 Principalities. The fact was, that of 30,000 men whom the 
 Porte had marched into the Principalities, a considerable por- 
 tion was left there, under the designation of police. But 
 as they derived their authority to act not from the Hospodars, 
 but from the Porte, Hussia refused to regard them as police; 
 and Wallachians and Moldavians equally complained that 
 they plundered instead of protecting the country.
 
 1826.] TURKEY TIIREATEXED. 319 
 
 'Not satisfied witb this, the Porte had, it appeared, seized 
 the Servian deputies as soou as they arrived in the capital, 
 and phiciiig them under restraint, kept them as hostages for 
 the good behaviour of their countrymen. Against these 
 acts, which she described as flagrant violations of the 
 treaty of Bucharest, Russia remonstrated, and finding that 
 no attention was paid to her remonstrances, she assumed a 
 higher tone. She demanded that the Porte should send 
 commissioners to Odessa to arrange there the difierences 
 between the two Courts ; and threatened, in the event of a 
 refusal, to withdraw her representative from Constantinople 
 and to take military possession of the Principalities. 
 
 Convinced from what had passed between the Emperor 
 and himself, that there was little to be apprehended on the 
 side of Grreece, the Duke went no further than to draAV up 
 a paper, in which he showed what the wishes of England 
 were respecting the pacification of that country, and how 
 his Government had interfei^ed to defeat Ibrahim Pasha's 
 scheme for depopulating the Morea. The paj)er was well 
 received by the Czar, who, in his turn, entered largely into 
 his other grounds of quarrel with Turkey, and showed the 
 Duke a note which he proposed to transmit to Constanti- 
 nople, and of which the tone was not only pei'emptory but 
 menacing. A long and friendly discussion ensued, during 
 which the Duke besought the Emperor to modify many of 
 liis expressions, and above all to omit the demand that 
 Turkish commissioners should be sent to Odessa. Eor as 
 the Porte never gave its confidence to any foreign repre- 
 sentative, it would probably refuse to comply Avith the Em- 
 peror's request ; and if it did comply, would disavow the 
 acts of its own agents when they returned, and might per- 
 haps put them to death. Nor was this all. The Duke en- 
 treated the Emperor not to rest his case on the terms of 
 the treaty of Bucharest. He had himself violated these 
 terms, and was, therefore, disentitled to appeal to them. 
 Neither was it becoming to threaten, unless he were pre- 
 pared to follow up his threats with acts of hostility ; in 
 which case he would enter at the very commencement of his 
 reign upon an unjust war.
 
 220 COXFEEEXCE WITH THE EMPEROR. [1826 
 
 The Emperor received these remonstrances in the very 
 best spii'it, and frankly admitted that he was not justified in 
 keeping possession of the fort in Mongrelia. He added that 
 the threat of withdrawing his charge d'affaires did not neces- 
 sarily imply a determination to go to war, which, on the 
 contrary, he would do everything in his power to avoid. 
 AVhen reminded that it was neither wise nor dignified to 
 threaten, unless there was a purpose of carrying the threat 
 into execution, he retorted with great quickness upon Eng- 
 land and her proceedings. " What was she then doing ? 
 Had she not threatened the Porte, if it should refuse to 
 prohibit Ibrahim Pasha from carrying his projects into 
 efi"ect in the IMorea. AVhat was there more unbecoming in 
 the threats of Russia than in tliose of England, both powers 
 being determined, by their own showing, to avoid a colli- 
 sion." The Duke found little difficulty in proving that the 
 two cases had no affinity ; that the object of England was 
 to defeat a particular design which a mere threat of naval 
 interference on her part must accomplish ; whereas Russia 
 gave the Porte but a single month to perform certain speci- 
 fied acts, in the event of her failing to do which Russia 
 must either go farther or stultify herself. Besides, no other 
 European power would blame England for preventing such 
 an outrage as that with which the Morea was threatened ; 
 whereas all must look with disfavour upon a war between 
 Russia and Turkey, and upon the inevitable aggrandizement 
 of the former at the expense of the latter. The Emperor 
 admitted that there was a difference, but repeated what he 
 had already said, that he expected to gain his ends without 
 having recourse to violence ; that the Porte was not open to 
 any other argument than that of menace ; and that England 
 might depend upon it, that even if forced into war, he 
 should not extend his frontier one inch beyond its present 
 limits. 
 
 Here was another point carried. A war between Russia 
 and Turkey alarmed the rest of Europe, only so far as it 
 might tend to bring Russia more towards the west. It was 
 a great matter to obtain this assurance from the Czar, that 
 he aimed at no conquests from Turkey, and would not re-
 
 1826.] THE EMPEROR AJS'D THE DUKE 321 
 
 tain item if tliey were achieved. At the same time, the 
 Emperor observed that the Turks had bo business in Europe, 
 and that nothing would give him greater pleasure than to 
 head a crusade for the purpose of driving them back into 
 Asia. As however the other powers vs'ould not agree to 
 this, he was not only willing but desirous of living on good 
 terms with them. 
 
 Encouraged by all this, the Duke proposed that the Em- 
 peror should not send his note at present, but withhold it 
 till there should be time for communicating with the Eng- 
 lish Grovernment, and for the English Grovernment to re- 
 monstrate, through its minister, with the Porte. The Em- 
 peror objected, on the plea that the season was passing 
 away, and that if compelled to move his troops at all he 
 must move them shortly. At the same time he repeated 
 over and over again that he entertained no views of con- 
 quest, and that he should content himself with occupying 
 and holding the Principalities, as a material guarantee for 
 the fulfilment of the engagements into which Turkey had 
 entered. 
 
 I should lengthen out unnecessarily this portion of my 
 narrative, were I to give in detail the substance of each 
 successive conference as it occurred, sometimes between the 
 Duke and Count Nesselrode, sometimes between the Duke 
 and the Czar. Enough is done when I state, that for a 
 while the Duke's arguments seemed to carry all before them ; 
 that the demand for Tui'kish plenipotentiaries to repair to 
 Odessa was withdrawn, and that six weeks instead of a 
 month were allowed to Turkey to make arrangements for 
 satisfying Eussia in other respects. In bringing all this 
 about, the Duke made happy use of the Emperor's admis- 
 sion respecting the Greeks, by showing that if Eussia went 
 to war with Turkey before Grreece was pacified, Greece 
 must as a matter of necessity become the ally of Eussia ; 
 and that Eussia could not, at the termination of the war, 
 replace Greece in any shape under her old masters. But 
 just as matters had reached this point. Count Lieven ar- 
 rived from England ; and whether through his influence or 
 not, first Count Nesselrode, and by and by the Emperor, a 
 
 21
 
 322 COUNT LIEVEX'S IX FLUEXCE. [1826. 
 
 good deal modified his toue. For example, the Emperor 
 had agreed to send au ambassador to Constantinople, when- 
 ever the Porte should assure England that she was prepared 
 to fulfil her engajrements. Counts Lieven and Nesselrode 
 endeavoured to back out of this concession ; and declined to 
 reduce to writing the promise which the Emperor had given, 
 " that even in the event of war he would retain none of his 
 conquests." It appeared also that they had worked upon 
 their master in the same direction ; for when the Duke re- 
 peated the request that his Imperial INIajesty would enable 
 him to furnish the British Government with tangible proof 
 of his generous intentions, the Emperor refused to sign any- 
 thing, unless the Duke would pledge England, first to ob- 
 tain for Eussia the redress which she required, and next 
 to exact from the Porte pecuniary indemnification for the 
 expenses of a war, should war arise. 
 
 Perceiving that this was not the moment to argue the 
 point further, the Duke reverted to the Gi'eek question, 
 which he proposed to settle on the terms originally sug- 
 gested by the G-reeks themselves. These implied the entire 
 evacuation of Greece by the Turks. Indeed there was a 
 clause in the draft of the treaty, which provided for the 
 purchase by Greece at a valuation of the property of all 
 Turks then resident within her limits. When these ar- 
 rangements should be complete, the Duke expressed his 
 opinion that the execution of them should be placed under 
 the joint guarantee of Eussia, Austria, Erance, and Prussia, 
 each of whom had a more immediate interest in the main- 
 tenance of the new order of things than England. Mean- 
 while he would not hear of any interference on the part 
 of Eussia with Ibrahim Pasha.* That must be left to 
 England alone, who could deal with Ibrahim as she had 
 done with Algiers, provoking no quarrel with the Porte or 
 with anybody else. Whereas the interference of Eussia 
 would be regarded as an espousal of the cause of the Greeks, 
 and a war between her and the Porte must inevitably 
 follow. 
 
 * Ibrahim Pasha liad proposed to transplant the Greeks to Upper Egypt, 
 uuil to re-people Greece from the Delta.
 
 1826.] • TREATY SIGNED. 323 
 
 So mattei's rested for a while ; but on tlie 21st of March 
 the Duke considered it necessary to return to the subject of 
 the Czar's note, and to his own anxious wish that it should 
 be withheld, till the English Government had time to com- 
 municate with Sir Stratford Canning. He was greatly sur- 
 prised when Count Nesselrode informed him that the note 
 was already sent oif. A man less discreet would have fired 
 up at such an announcement ; for undoubtedly the proceed- 
 ing, had it taken place, would have indicated no desire on 
 the Emperor's part to treat England, or her representative, 
 with too much courtesy. Bat the Duke kept his temper, 
 partly because he suspected that Count Nesseh-ode had gone 
 beyond the truth, partly because in any case no good could 
 arise from an altercation with that minister. It was a wise 
 determination, and in due time its policy, not less than its 
 wisdom, became manifest ; for at a subsequent interview 
 the Emperor assured him that the note was still in his own 
 possession, and that he would do nothing regarding it which 
 might occasion annoyance to one whom he respected and 
 esteemed as he did the Duke of Wellington. ISor was this 
 all. The Emperor agreed to endorse the conditions which 
 the Duke proposed for the pacification of Grreece, and on the 
 4th of April a paper was signed by Count Xesselrode to that 
 effect. By the deed in question, England was authorized to 
 mediate between Turkey and Grreece. If the terms of 
 accommodation were accepted, then England and Russia 
 pledged themselves to seek no accession of territory or 
 influence in carrying them into effect. If they were rejected, 
 then the two powers undertook to find some other means of 
 settling the question, subject to the same rule of abnegation 
 in the matter of territory or influence for themselves. 
 
 The Duke had gained much: undoubtedly more than ever he 
 expected himself to gain, or than any other diplomatist would 
 have been able to accomplish. He felt his way further, but 
 soon discovered that it was useless. The Czar did not con- 
 ceal that, come what might, he had designs in Asia which he 
 was determined not to forego ; and the Duke considered it 
 unwise, after such an avowal, to irritate by seeking to thwart 
 him. Enough was done in obtaining from him a written 
 
 21 *
 
 324 THE AECHDUKE CONSTANTINE. [1826, 
 
 declaration that lie would not endeavour to extend liis fron- 
 tier in Europe. In Asia lie considered himself free to fol- 
 low his own course, and the Duke would not take advantage 
 of a word hastily spoken, in the hope of thereby restraining 
 him. But the Duke gained more than all this. He obtained 
 the Emperor's sanction to write at length to Sir Stratford 
 Canning, and to explain that Russia had no intention of 
 going to war with Turkey ; and that the Divan was there- 
 fore free to consider the propositions which England might 
 make on the subject of the pacification of Grreece, with all 
 the calmness and regard for self-respect which the import- 
 ance of the subject required. 
 
 This was the last piece of business which the Duke trans- 
 acted at St Petersburg, but it was not the last wise and 
 conciliatory proceeding to which he lent himself. In his 
 parting interview with the Czar, which occurred on the 5th 
 of April, he learned that the Emperor was desirous of show- 
 ing every mark of respect to his brother Constantine, and 
 that it would be gratifying to him if the Duke would go 
 round by "Warsaw, so as to visit the Archduke. He cheer- 
 fully acceded to the Emperor's wish, and was the guest of 
 the Grand Duke Constantine for portions of three days, A 
 strong impression appears to have been made upon him by 
 all that he saw and heard. Of the Princess Lowitz, the 
 Grrand Duke's wife, he spoke as of a very charming woman, 
 the object of whose life it seemed to be to keep the imperial 
 family in concord. The Grand Duke himself was not quite 
 so pleasing. He exhibited signs of dissatisfaction with the 
 state to which circumstances had reduced him, and seemed 
 impatient to escape from it. It was clear, indeed, that the 
 Emperor, if he desired to remain on good terms with his 
 brother, must, for some time at least, humour him in many 
 things, and above all, regulate, as far as might be possible, 
 his foreign policy so as to meet Constantine's wishes. Still 
 the Duke quitted the Russian dominions more and more 
 satisfied that, if England managed her foreign policy with 
 ordinary discretion, there would be no war. . 
 
 There was a story current at the time, which I have since 
 heard repeated, that at their parting interview the Emperor
 
 1826.] THE EMPEROR'S PARTING PROMISE. 32o 
 
 assured the Duke, that out of the love which his Majesty 
 bore him, he would uever, uuless driveu to it by the sternest 
 necessity, wage war with the Porte. I do not vouch for the 
 truth of this tale, but it is a fact, and a remarkable one, that 
 the future policy of Nicholas — whether he came under this 
 direct obligation or not, was strictly in keeping with its 
 tenor. The war between Russia and Turkey, which occurred 
 a few months later, was not of his seeking. It was forced 
 upon him, partly through the blunders of England, partly 
 through the obstinacy of the Porte ; and it was not pushed 
 to an extremity. But scarcely was the Duke removed from 
 the stage of life, ere the old views of the Court of St Peters- 
 burg revived. Prince Menschikoff's mission to Constan- 
 tinople took place, and the campaign of the Crimea, and the 
 fall of Sebastopol, with all the evils attending them, soon 
 followed.
 
 326 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 DEATH OP THE DUKE OP YORK THE DUKE COMMANDER-IN- 
 
 CHIEP DEATH OP LORD LIVERPOOL MR CANNING PRIME 
 
 MINISTER. 
 
 I HAVE gone mucli into detail while describing the Duke's 
 mission to St Petersburg, partly because the story is pro- 
 bably new to most of my readers, partly because it intro- 
 duces the Duke himself to our notice as a skilful negotiator, 
 having delicate affixirs to settle and very many diplomatists 
 with whom to deal. Into other points of history I shall 
 enter very brieiiy. It was at this time that the death of 
 Don John VI. separated the empire of Brazil from the 
 kingdom of Portugal. The new emperor, Don Pedro, pre- 
 ferring the crown of Brazil, made over that of Portugal to 
 his daughter, and granted a constitution which was unfa- 
 vourably looked upon by Spain, now under the sway of an 
 absolute Sovereign. There arose out of this much ill blood 
 between the two countries. Preparations were made in 
 Spain to invade Portugal, and to give the crown, without a 
 constitution, to Don Miguel, the uncle of the young Queen ; 
 and 5000 British troops were suddenly despatched to Lisbon 
 for the purpose of repelliug the invasion. 
 
 The Duke was a consenting party to this arrangement, 
 upon the clear ground that neither Spain, nor any other 
 foreign power, had the smallest right to interfere in the in- 
 ternal affairs of Portugal. He acted on the occasion as he 
 afterwards did when Don Miguel succeeded in seizing the 
 Portuguese crown ; the principle of non-intervention being
 
 1826.] HOME POLITICS. 327 
 
 with him a reality just as operative in the one case as the 
 other. But circumstances, as I have already shown, had by 
 this time forced bim into the front rank of the Cabinet, and 
 home politics became in consequence, quite as much as 
 foreign, the subject of his care. They were in a most un- 
 satisfactory state. A year or two of false prosperity, the 
 result, as was alleged, of a liberalized tariff, had ended in 
 the panic of 1825, and monetary embarrassment brought 
 with it, as it always does, discontent with other matters. 
 An outcry was raised against the corn laws. They had 
 been modified once already, and now Mr Canning and his 
 friends insisted upon modifying them still further. The 
 condition of Ireland likewise, and the demands of the 
 Roman Catholics, occasioned much uneasiness, and Lord 
 John Russell was manifestly gaining ground in his advocacy 
 of Parliamentary Reform. To much tampering with the corn 
 laws, the Duke was conscientiously opposed. He regarded 
 them as a great bulwark of the aristocratic element in the 
 constitution, which was not in his opinion too strong. On 
 the subject of Parliamentary Reform, he was prepared to go 
 fui'ther than either Mr Canning or Mr Huskisson, but ob- 
 jected entirely to the sweeping measures which Lord John 
 Russell brought forward. Ireland however and the Roman 
 Catholic question constituted his great difficulty. He 
 voted indeed with that section of the Cabinet which re- 
 sisted emancipation ; yet his opinions on the abstract merits 
 of the case seem to have agreed, neither with theirs, nor 
 with the vieAVS of their opponents. He could not bring 
 himself to believe with Lord Eldon that the exclusion of Ro- 
 man Catholics from political power formed the keystone of 
 the British constitution. He was unable to assent to Mr 
 Canning's argument that Roman Catholics were subjected by 
 such exclusion to personal, or even to social, injustice. The 
 laws excluding them from Parliament operated as other 
 laws do which place more or less of restraint on individuals 
 or on classes. They had been passed with a view to the pub- 
 lic good, and till it could be shown that the public good 
 would be more advanced by their I'epeal than by their re- 
 tention, he saw no reason, on the ground of abstract right,
 
 328 STATE OF PARTIES. [182(3. 
 
 for interfering witli them. But he saw at the same time, 
 that till the question should be settled one way or another, 
 there could be no freedom of action, either to the Grovern- 
 ment or to the legislature. There rested also upon his 
 mind a painful conviction, that if matters long continued as 
 they were, Ireland would break out into rebellion ; for 
 which, indeed, the bulk of its population were ripe, and from 
 which they were kept back, only by the prudence, perhaps 
 by the timidity, of Mr O'Connell and the subordinate leaders 
 in the movement. 
 
 It was to this subject, therefore, more than to any other 
 of public interest, that the Duke at this time directed his 
 attention ; and he already began to express himself concern- 
 ing it to those who enjoyed the largest share of his confi- 
 dence, with a reserve which grew day by day less guarded. 
 
 The Duke was absent from England when the dissolution 
 of 1826 took place. He saw nothing, therefore, of the tur- 
 moil and bustle of the general election. But he found, on 
 his return, that in its results it more than justified the 
 worst fears which he had previously entertained respecting 
 the state of feeling throughout the country. In Great 
 Britain, not less than in Ireland, the point most keenly dis- 
 cussed between candidates and electors, had been Catholic 
 Emancipation. In Ireland the Eomanists carried all before 
 them. Priests went about from parish to parish, canvassing 
 as priests only can do ; while pastoral letters, from bishops, 
 charged the faithful to vote as the interests of holy Church 
 and their religion required. In England and Scotland, on 
 the other hand, a strong Protestant spirit had been roused ; 
 and a pledge to resist the demands of the Catholic Associa- 
 tion was in many places required as the one great test of 
 fitness for a seat in the legislature. Hence the temper of 
 the House of Commons, which met in November, was a good 
 deal changed from that of the previous May. From Ire- 
 land the cause of emancipation had achieved a large acces- 
 sion of strength, which, howevei', was more than counterbal- 
 anced by the exclusion of many members, who as represen- 
 tatives of English and Scotch constituencies had formeidy 
 voted for that measure.
 
 1S27.] DEATH OF THE DUKE OF YORK. 329 
 
 Things were in this state when the Duke of York died. 
 There could be but one opinion in England in regard to the 
 individual whom it would become the Crown to select as his 
 successor at the head of the army, and the Duke of Welling- 
 ton became, as was fitting, commander-in-chief.* But a seat 
 in the Cabinet being then considered incompatible with high 
 military office, he was further entreated to remain at the head 
 of the Board of Ordnance. Though far from hopeful that 
 an administration so ill-assorted could long hold together, 
 he would not, by withdrawing from it, precipitate the event 
 of its fall. That, however, which probably no care on his 
 part could have long deferred, an occurrence, as melancholy 
 as it was nnlooked for, hurried forward. 
 
 The Duke of York died on the 5th of December, 1826. 
 His funeral was attended by most of the Cabinet ministers, 
 including, among others, the Duke of "Wellington, Lord 
 Liverpool, and Mr Canning. On the 14th of February 
 Lord Liverpool went up with an address of condolence from 
 the House of Lords to the King, and on the 16th was 
 smitten with paralysis, from which he never recovered. It 
 was a terrible blow in every point of view to the Government ; 
 for though neither a very able minister nor a very eloquent 
 debater. Lord Liverpool deserved and commanded the respect 
 of all sections of his party. He had, no doubt, been car- 
 ried away of late beyond that beaten track of traditional 
 policy in which a portion of his colleagues loved to move. 
 He had given himself up, in matters of fiscal and commercial 
 arrangement, to the guidance of the political economists ; 
 but besides that he was still a determined enemy to the 
 admission of Eoman Catholics to power, he was too high- 
 minded by far to negotiate with the leaders of the opposition 
 for the success of any measure which might be distasteful to 
 a majority of the Cabinet. The loss, therefore, to the Ad- 
 ministration, was, in every point of view, serious, and con- 
 sequences of a very serious nature were not slow in developing 
 themselves. 
 
 Among other measures upon which ministers had agreed 
 
 * He was at the same time appointed Colonel of the Grenadier regiment 
 of Foot Guards.
 
 330 KEW COEX LAW. [1827. 
 
 during the recess was the introduction of a bill into Parlia^ 
 ment for settling a revised scale of duty according to which 
 grain might be imported from abroad, and for rendering 
 more easy the admission of bonded corn into the home 
 market. "Whether the Duke was beyond seas when this 
 proposal was brought forward, I have not been able to ascer- 
 tain ; but it is clear from his speech in the House of Lords 
 that he was not present at the Cabinet which discussed and 
 finally adopted it. It is equally certain that, for the reasons 
 elsewhere assigned, he regarded every approach to the 
 establishment of free-trade in corn with apprehension ; and 
 that he could not in his heart approve of a measure which, 
 according to his view of the case, would afford increased 
 facilities to the evasion of the corn laws as they then ex- 
 isted. Still, the question having been considered, discussed, 
 and formally approved, he felt himself constrained to assent 
 to it, as one for which Lord Liverpool's Administration was 
 responsible ; though he never appears to have had an oppor- 
 tunity of studying its details till the bill itself came actually 
 before ParKament. 
 
 It had been settled that the bill in question should be 
 introduced simultaneously into both Houses ; into the Lords 
 by Lord Liverpool, into the Commons by Mr Canning ; and 
 the l7th of February was the day appointed for making this 
 twofold motion. But on the 16th Lord Liverpool was struck 
 down, and Mr .Canning himself, having caught a violent cold 
 at the funeral of the Duke of York, was obliged to remove 
 for change of air to Brighton. Though there could be little 
 or no hope that Lord Liverpool would ever be able to resume 
 the labours of office, the Kling was not advised to appoint 
 immediately a successor to him at the Treasury. Indeed, 
 parties ran so high in the Cabinet, that no agreement could 
 be come to respecting the individual under whom all would 
 be willing to serve ; while out of doors a course of negotia- 
 tion was carried on, to expose which in all its ramifications 
 would be to reveal secrets which could not be laid bare to 
 the present generation without damage both to private feel- 
 ing and to the public interests. The Liverpool Cabinet was 
 still, therefore, in power, though destitute of an efficieut
 
 1S27.] CABIKET IXTPJGUES. 331 
 
 head, when on the 1st of March Mr Canning brought in his 
 Corn Bill ; and the bill, being backed by all the weight of 
 the Grovernment, passed with little opposition through the 
 House of Commons. Before it reached the Lords, however, 
 those changes had occurred which placed Mr Canning at the 
 head of an Administration of which the Duke, Lords Eldon, 
 Bathurst, "Westmoreland, and Mr Peel, all declined to 
 become members. His retirement from office appeared to 
 the Duke to release him, in a great degree, from the engage- 
 ments by which, as a minister, he was bound to support in 
 their integrity measures brought forward by the Cabinet. 
 He resolved, therefore, to take his own course in dealing 
 with Mr Canning's Corn Bill, and when the proper time 
 came he did so. 
 
 It is not my purpose to dwell upon the intrigues and ne- 
 gotiations which preceded and led up to this change of Go- 
 verimient. Mr Canning had once before made a move to 
 become the head of an A-dministration. He was now resolved 
 that by no consideration of delicacy towards others, should 
 he be restrained from accomplishing that great object of his 
 ambition. He had friends in the Cabinet who honestly desired 
 to see him the leader of the Tory party. He had others out 
 of the Cabinet who desired, but for an opposite reason, to 
 iind him winner in the race for power. His activity, the 
 activity of his adherents, the almost unanimous support of 
 the daily press, and a palace camarilla, prevailed over the less 
 energetic action of his opponents. On the 10th of April 
 he wrote a letter to the Duke, in which he announced that 
 the King had asked him to furnish a plan for the reconstruc- 
 tion of the Administration ; and that he was exceedingly 
 anxious to adhere, in so doing, to the principles on which 
 Lord Liverpool's Government had long acted. There fol- 
 lowed upon this a correspondence which is to be found at 
 length in the " Annual Register " of 1827 ; and from which 
 certain facts appear : viz., first, that Mr Canning had been 
 previously made aware that Mr Peel, at least, would not hold 
 office under him ; and, next, that in conversation with 
 the Duke a few days before, he had himself proposed 
 that ]Mr Eobiuson should go to the House of Lords and
 
 332 ME, CANNIXG PEIME MINISTER. [1827. 
 
 take office as First Lord of the Treasury. Neither this 
 proceeding on Mr Peel's part, however, nor his own implied 
 pledge, stood for a moment in Mr Canning's way. The King 
 was worked iipon to offer the chief place in the Cabinet to him ; 
 Mr Canning not only closed with the offer, but in some de- 
 gree acted in anticipation of it ; and the Duke, Lords Eldon, 
 AVestmoreland, Melville, and Mr Peel, all, without any pre- 
 vious communication with one another, sent in their re- 
 signations. 
 
 There can be no doubt that Mr Canning was deeply mor- 
 tified by this. To say, as his friends said for him, that 
 he was either surprised or disappointed, would be to go 
 very much too far. He knew, at every stage in the course 
 which he was pursuing, that such must be its issues ; and 
 the complaints to which he gave utterance of wrong done to 
 liim and to the Sovereign, were as groundless as they were 
 uncandid. Some of the seceding ministers may have assigned 
 reasons for their own conduct which scarcely expressed all 
 that they felt. The Duke had no reserve. In the House of 
 Lords he made a full statement of his own proceedings, and 
 of the causes which produced them. He might serve with a 
 colleague in whom his confidence was not settled : he could 
 not possibly serve under him. It is to be regretted, perhaps, 
 that the Duke allowed himself to be hurried into a diatribe 
 against a corrupt press, and that he employed a phraseology 
 which was open to misconstruction, and of which, in after 
 years, he was repeatedly and most uncaudidly reminded. 
 Referring to the rumour which the friends of Mr Canning had 
 put in circulation, that, having himself intrigued for high 
 office, he quitted the Cabinet only because the foremost place 
 in it was refused to himself, he denied the facts of the case, 
 and then went on to contrast his position as it was at the 
 head of the army, with what it would be were he placed at 
 the head of an administration. " Does any one believe," he 
 continued, " that I would give up such gratification (the gra- 
 tification of being reunited to his old companions in arms) in 
 order to be appointed to a situation in which I was not wished, 
 and for which I was not qualified ? . . . . My Lords, I should 
 have been worse than mad, had I thought of such a thing."
 
 1827.] THE DUKE CEASES TO HOLD OFFICE. 333 
 
 So ended this political struggle. Mr Canning came out of 
 it First Lord of the Treasury, and surrounded himself with 
 friends of his own. The Duke not only gave up his seat in 
 the Cabinet with the Master- Generalship of the Ordnance, 
 but resigned, at the same time, the command of the army. 
 This last was a measure for which no one was prepared. 
 Under ordinary circumstances it might have laid him^ open 
 to the charge of disrespect towards the Sovereign. But he 
 was not afraid, as matters then stood, of incurring even that 
 reproach. His resignation afforded the strongest possible 
 proof, that from the minister of the day his confidence was 
 entirely withdrawn ; and that the differences between them 
 were more than political, — that they touched the point of 
 private and personal honour. And so, when accounting for 
 the step in the House of Lords, he explained them.
 
 334 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 THE DUKE IN OPPOSITION DEATH OF MR CANNING THE DUKE 
 
 A POLITICAL LEADER THE GOVERNMENT ITS DIFFICULTIES. 
 
 I HAVE arrived at a stage of Englisli history so recent of 
 date, and in which the part played by the Duke of Welling- 
 ton is so generally known, that I can ventui*e to pass lightly 
 over most of the important events which marked its progress. 
 
 The Duke, taking his seat on the opposition benches of 
 the House of Lords, became the acknowledged head of a 
 great political party. He modified, and in so doing defeated, 
 the Ministerial Corn Bill after a rather curious corre- 
 spondence with Mr Huskisson. This was a severe blow to 
 Mr Canning, who counted on no such result, and still hoped, 
 by conciliating, to win back the friends of his youth. Forced 
 now into the arms of the Whigs, they likewise deserted him 
 in his hour of need. On a motion afl"ecting the representa- 
 tion of Penryn he found himself in a minority of 69, and 
 abandoned for ever all hope of playing to a successful issue 
 the game on which he had entered. Indeed he never held 
 up his head again. Soon after the prorogation of Parlia- 
 ment, which occurred on the 2nd of July, he retired to the 
 Duke of Devonshire's house at Chiswick ; and there, on the 
 8th of August, in the same chamber in which Fox had 
 breathed his last, he died. 
 
 Mr Canning was succeeded as First Lord of the Treasury 
 by Mr Robinson, who went to the House of Lords by the 
 title of Viscount Goderich. It was the season of the recess, 
 which the new ministers spent chiefly in quarrelling among
 
 1827.] IX THE PROVINCES. 33-5 
 
 themselves, while the leaders of the opposition went about 
 from place to place seeking to make a favourable impression 
 on the constituencies. Among others the Duke paid a series 
 of visits in the North of England, which though ostensibly 
 those of private friendship, were by others rather than by 
 liimself converted into political demonstrations. He was 
 feasted by Dr Van Mildert, Bishop of Durham, with princely 
 splendour in the old hall of Auckland Castle. He was the 
 guest of Lord Eavensworth, at Eavensworth, and dined with 
 the Mayor and Corporation of Sunderland in their court 
 house. Grentlemen who sat down with him to table hung 
 upon his words and cheered him loudly, and ladies, as their 
 custom was, courted and flattered him wherever he ap- 
 peared. The case was somewhat different with the mob. 
 They, too, crowded to look upon him, but their greeting was 
 cold. Had he come among them fresh from his triumphs in 
 the Peninsula and at \Yaterloo, they would have greeted him 
 as heartily as their betters. But he was now a politician, 
 and a party politician, advocating, or being supposed to advo- 
 cate, opinions of which they disapproved. Nor were there 
 wanting those among the educated classes. Sir "Walter Scott 
 being of the number, who felt that he had stooped to be- 
 come what they saw him, and lamented the circumstance. 
 Not so the Duke. He was never more in earnest in his 
 life, than while striving to set up a Grovernment which should 
 do what he conceived to be its duty to the Crown and to 
 the people ; and in order to secure that end, he was ready 
 to sacrifice, not popularity alone, but everything that was 
 personally dear to him. The Duke returned from his tour 
 satisfied that what he called the intelligence of the country 
 was with him, and before Parliament met again he found 
 himself at the head of afifairs. 
 
 Lord Goderich's ill-assorted Cabinet fell to pieces after 
 the battle of Navarino. The King sent for the Duke, and 
 not without diSiculty prevailed upon him to undertake the 
 task of forming a new Administration. He would have will- 
 ingly declined that honour had any legitimate means of 
 escape been open to him ; but it was not consistent with his 
 principle of duty to refuse obedience to what amounted to a
 
 336 HIS CABINET. [1828. 
 
 command on the part of the Sovei'eign. The manner in 
 which he accomplished the task offended, as much as it sur- 
 prised, men of extreme opinions on both sides of the House. 
 "While Lord Goderich was in office, the Duke had consented 
 to resume the command of the army. He now offered to 
 Lord Goderich himself, and to the Canningites of the old 
 Cabinet, seats in the new ; and filled up the vacancies occa- 
 sioned by the exclusion of the AVhigs, by bringing in Mr 
 Peel and others of his own friends. It was an arrangement 
 dictated by an honest desire of securing for the public ser- 
 vice the largest attainable amount of talent combined with 
 moderation. Yet the Grovernment so constituted carried 
 within itself the seeds of failure. Mr Huskisson and the Duke 
 never drew very cordially together. It is a mistake to 
 assume that the one was all for progress, the other for 
 obstruction. On fiscal questions the Duke was disposed to 
 go as far as Mr Huskisson, bating only his strong predi- 
 lection in favour of the corn laws. On points affecting 
 the representation of the people he was desirous to go far- 
 ther. They difiered, however, in their views of what mem- 
 bers of the same Cabinet owed to one another, and that dif- 
 ference parted them. "Words spoken by Mr Huskisson on 
 the hustings, whither after joining the Duke's Grovernment 
 he went for re-election, brought them first into collision, 
 and that collision doubtless paved the way for the more 
 serious misunderstanding which took place not long after- 
 wards. 
 
 We now know that public opinion had by this time re- 
 ceived a more decided bias towards liberalism than the Duke 
 or the majority of his colleagues supposed. The Test and Cor- 
 poratio]! Acts had long been complained of; by many sound 
 churchmen as prostituting the most sacred symbols of their 
 faith, by dissenters as affixing to them a stigma which was 
 intolerable. Neither party seemed to be satisfied with the 
 annual bill of indemnity, though to all intents and purposes 
 it set the law aside. And now Lord John Eussell, on the 
 28th of February, 1828, proposed that the House of Com- 
 mons should resolve itself into a committee Avith a view to 
 inquire and report upon the whole subject. The Govern-
 
 1828.] TEST AND COEPORATION ACTS. 337 
 
 ment opposed tlie motion. Mr Huskisson and Lord Palmer- 
 stou both spoke against it. But the feeling of the House 
 could not be misunderstood, and in order to avoid the appear- 
 ance of defeat, the ministers withdrew before the question 
 was put. A bill founded on the resolution was brought into 
 the House, which the Grovernment adopted as its own, and 
 adding to it, in the Lords, two not unimportant clauses, 
 carried it through. Thus the Test and Corporation Acts were 
 repealed. The clauses added in the House of Lords were 
 highly conservative. One required each non-conformist 
 member, before he took his seat, to swear that he would not 
 use his influence as a legislator to the damage of the Estab- 
 lished Church in her rights or property. The other obliged 
 him to assent to certain specified opinions, " on the true 
 faith of a Christian." 
 
 This defeat, for a defeat it virtually was, damaged the Go- 
 vernment not a little. The Government received a still 
 heavier blow three months later, by the secession from its 
 ranks of Mr Huskisson, Lord Dudley, Lord Palmerston, and 
 Mr Charles Grant. Undoubtedly IVIr Huskisson was the 
 first, and therefore the most to blame, in this gratuitous 
 quarrel. After over-ruling the Duke and Mr Peel in the 
 Cabinet, on a question affecting the disfranchisement of 
 Penryn, Mr Huskisson, when the question came on in the 
 House of Commons, suddenly rose, and spoke against the 
 very conclusion which he had constrained his leader to adopt. 
 And this somewhat extraordinary proceeding he followed up, 
 by writing immediately afterwards to the Duke in these 
 words : " I owe it to you as the head of the Administration, 
 and to Mr Peel as the leader of the House of Commons, to 
 lose no time in affording you an opportunity of placing my 
 ofiice in other hands." The Duke had a perfect right to 
 read this letter as he did. It was a tender of resignation 
 by the writer, neither more nor less ; yet looking to the 
 condition of the Government at the moment, and still more 
 to the state of feeling out of doors, it wovdd be difficult to 
 say that the Duke exercised a wise prudence in accepting 
 the resignation without a remonstrance. I say nothing 
 against the strict fairness of the Duke's conduct ; that can- 
 
 22
 
 338 MR HUSKISSOX AXD HIS FEIENDS. [1828. 
 
 not be disputed. Nor is there anything to sliow that other 
 causes of distrust may not have operated to restrain him 
 from listening to the explanations Avhich Mr Huskisson "was 
 subsequently anxious to offer. But considering how weak 
 he was in the House of Commons, and how little able to 
 supply the talent thus lost to his Administration, it is not, I 
 think, going too far to say, that the Duke, in breaking with 
 Mr Huskisson and his friends upon a point which came at 
 last to be little more than one of etiquette, made a greater 
 sacrifice than a more practised politician would have done, 
 to that high sense of honour which formed part of his 
 nature. 
 
 Before this schism took place, the Grovernment had suc- 
 ceeded in preparing a new Corn Bill, with a scale of duties 
 rising and falling according to the average price of grain in 
 the home markets. The biU never became popular, and the 
 success of the ministers in carrying it did them no good. 
 Neither were their hands strengthened by the course which 
 the Duke considered it his duty to take with reference to 
 Portugal. Another revolution had given the crown of that 
 kingdom to Don Miguel, and Don Pedro was preparing by 
 force of arms to expel his brother and establish his infant 
 daughter on the throne. This was one of those cases in 
 which, according to the Duke's view, no foreign nation had 
 a right to interfere. His predecessor had broken off diplo- 
 matic relations with the usurper, and the Duke took time to 
 consider when and how it would be expedient to renew 
 them. But he refused to extend the protection of England 
 to Donna Maria, and as far as the law would allow put the 
 Eoreigu Enlistment Act in force against the armaments 
 which Don Pedro hastened to equip in this country. He 
 was censured for eodoiug by the Liberal members in both 
 Houses of Parliament, and by the masses out of doors, but 
 he felt that he was doing his duty, and he went his own way. 
 
 Never within the memory of living men had there been 
 an Administration so severely economical in its management 
 of the finances of the country as that of the Duke. He 
 reduced the army and the navy far below what we should 
 now consider to be safe. He introduced improvements into
 
 1828.] THE ADMINISTRATION NOT POPULAR. 339 
 
 tlie manner of keeping the public accounts, and so man- 
 aged matters generally that in 1828, 1829 there -was a con- 
 siderable balance in the Exchequer over a revenue which 
 amounted to £36,000,000. Yet with all this he could not 
 succeed in making his GoA'ernment popular. Neither of 
 the two great parties in the state liked him. The Whig 
 aristocracy, aware of his aversion to them as a body, repaid 
 the feeling with interest, and made no secret of their senti- 
 ments. The old Tories, indignant at their exclusion from 
 office, gave him but a lukewarm support in Parliament, and 
 spoke bitterly of him out of doors. A cry was got up that 
 he ruled, or aspired to rule, his Administration and the 
 country as he used to rule his armies of old. Those who 
 lived with him on terms of intimacy, his colleagues in the 
 Cabinet, his confidential friends elsewhere, knew how unjust 
 these whispers were. But the whispers spread, nevertheless, 
 far and wide ; and were, perhaps, the more readily believed, 
 because of the jealousy which was then all but universal of 
 military influence. A minister so circumstanced could hope 
 to keep his place only by watching every breath of popular 
 prejudice as it rose, and trimming his sails to catch it. Of 
 such a course the Duke was incapable. He had assumed 
 the burden of office with the single view of serving the King 
 and benefiting the country, and he never for a moment 
 thought of using the power which office gave him for any 
 other purpose. 
 
 His great difficulty of all was Ireland, swayed and 
 turned hither and thither by Daniel O'Connell and the 
 Catholic Association. In that unhappy country law had no 
 force. The magistrates were intimidated; the King's Grovern- 
 ment was powerless. A central board, sitting in Dublin, issued 
 its orders, and was obeyed throughout the island. Meet- 
 ings called by directions from that body, were attended by 
 thousands ; tens of thousands walked in military arrav, as 
 often as demonstrations were considered necessary. There 
 were comparatively few crimes committed, little or no vio- 
 lence olFered to persons or to property. But there was the 
 most perfect organization for either passive or active resist- 
 ance to constituted authority of which history makes men- 
 
 22 *
 
 340 THE CLAEE ELECTIOX. [1828. 
 
 tion. And all avowedly directed to one end, — the repeal of 
 the laws disqualifying Eoman Catholics from sitting in both 
 Houses of Parliament, and from exercising elsewhere the 
 same political rights which were exercised by their Protest- 
 ant fellow-subjects. 
 
 For years the struggle had gone on, till at last a bold 
 measure suggested by Mr O'Counell was tried with com- 
 plete success. After proclaiming to the world that there 
 was no statute in existence which disabled a Roman Catho- 
 lic from sitting in the House of Commons, he avowed his 
 intention of standing for the representation of the county 
 of Clare, which the acceptance, by Mr Vesey Pitzgerald, of 
 the presidency of the Board of Control, had rendered vacant. 
 His cause was at once taken up by the whole body of Eo- 
 man Catholics in Ireland. All the old ties which bound 
 landlord and tenant together were broken ; every altar in 
 the land, from the Hill of Howth to Cape Clear, became, as 
 Mr Shiel well expressed it, a tribune. The progress of the 
 agitator to the hustings was a triumph, and after a brief 
 trial of his own weakness, Mr Vesey Fitzgerald withdrew 
 from the contest. 
 
 The results of the Clare election took all parties by sur- 
 prise. It filled the Roman Catholics and their supporters 
 in Parliament with delight. It stirred a feeling of anger 
 and scorn among their opponents. The Duke saw that 
 matters were brought by it to a crisis. To go on as former 
 Administrations had done, discussing the Catholic Question 
 from year to year, and throwing out in the Lords bills 
 passed by the Commons, was no longer possible. He must, 
 therefore, choose between two courses, both difficult, and 
 even dangerous, though not, as it appeared to him, in the 
 same degree. 
 
 The Grovernment, if it should determine, under existing 
 circumstances, to maintain the statutes excluding Roman 
 Catholics from power, must ask for new laws, the old hav- 
 ing quite broken down. They must bring in a bill, requir- 
 ■ ing candidates for seats in Parliament to take at the hust- 
 ings the oaths of supremacy and allegiance ; otherwise they 
 could not prevent Roman Catholics from contesting every
 
 1828.] THE GOVERNMENT IN A DILEMMA. 341 
 
 vacant county and borougli in the United Kingdom, and 
 from becoming ?J9so facto members of Parliament, sliould 
 constituencies see fit to elect them. Practically speaking, 
 there might be small risk that either in England or Scot- 
 land this result would follow, at least to any extent. But 
 what was to be expected in Ireland ? That every constitu- 
 ency, with the exception, perhaps, of the university and city 
 of JDublin, and of the counties and boroughs of the north, 
 would, whenever the opportunity ofi'ered, return Koman 
 Catholics ; and that, the members so returned being pre- 
 vented from taking their seats, three-fourths at least of the 
 Irish people must remain permanently unrepresented in 
 Parliament. Was it probable, looking to the state of 
 parties in the House of Commons, that such a measure, if 
 proposed, could be carried ? Por many years back the ma- 
 jorities in favour of repeal had gone on increasing session 
 after session. Even the present Parliament, elected as it 
 had been under a strong Protestant pressure, had SAverved 
 from its faithfulness. The small majority which threw out 
 Lord John E-ussell's bill in 1827, had been converted in 
 1828 into a minority ; and among those who voted on that 
 occasion with Mr Peel, many gave him warning that here- 
 after they should consider themselves free to follow a differ- 
 ent course. 
 
 But perhaps it might be possible to get a bill passed to 
 disfranchise the Irish forty-shilling freeholders, a class of 
 voters who, as they had been created for acknowledged pur- 
 poses of corruption in the Irish Parliament, would have 
 nobody to stand up for them in high places, now that they 
 refused to play their patron's game. This was quite as im- 
 probable an issue as the other. The disfranchisement of 
 the forty-shilling freeholders had indeed been talked of in 
 former years : but if effected at all, it was to be in connec- 
 tion with a measure of Catholic Emancipation. To propose 
 it now for the avowed purpose of rendering Catholic Eman- 
 cipation impossible would be to insure the rejection of the 
 bill. That plan, therefore, fell at once to the ground. And 
 there remained but two others. 
 
 The minister might ask Parliament for power to suspend
 
 342 ALTERXATIOXS CONSIDERED. [1828. 
 
 the Habeas Corpus Act, and to place all Ireland under 
 military law. To ask for less would be ridiculous; because 
 the act against unlawful assemblies had failed, and on ac- 
 count of its helplessness was suffered to expire. Now 
 would Parliament grant such extensive powers to any 
 Government, merely that the Grovernment might be enabled 
 to debar his Majesty's Roman Catholic subjects a little 
 longer from enjoying equal political privileges with Protest- 
 ants ? The issue was very doubtful, — perhaps it was not 
 doubtful at all ; Parliament would never grant such powers. 
 But assuming that the powers were given, what must fol- 
 low ? A general insurrection, to be put down after much 
 bloodshed and suffering, and then a return to that state of 
 sullen discontent which would render Ireland, ten times 
 more than she had ever been, a mill-stone round the neck of 
 Grreat Britain. And by and by, when military law ceased, 
 and the same measure of personal liberty was granted to 
 Irishmen which the natives of England and Scotland en- 
 joyed, a renewal of agitation, only in a more hostile spirit, 
 and the necessity of either reverting again and again to 
 measures of coercion, or of yielding at last, what, upon 
 every principle of humanity and common sense, ought not to 
 have been thus far withheld. But the minister, if the exist- 
 ing Parliament refused to give the powers which he asked, 
 might dissolve, and go to the country with a strong Protest- 
 ant cry ; and this cry might serve his purpose in England 
 and Scotland. Doubtless ; but what would occur in Ire- 
 land ? The return of Roman Catholic members in the pro- 
 portion of four to one over Protestants, and the virtual dis- 
 franchisement thereby of four-fifths of the Irish people. 
 "Would Ireland submit quietly to any law carried against 
 herself, in a House of Commons so constituted ? Was it 
 not much more probable, that a dissolution would only lead 
 ta the same results which had been shown to be inevitable in 
 the event of the existing Parliament acquiescing in the min- 
 ister's views ? And was th^re not, at all events, a chance 
 that the electors, even of England and Scotland, might re- 
 fuse to abet a policy so pregnant with danger to themselves 
 and to the commonwealth ?
 
 1828.] THE CONCLUSION". S43 
 
 But why move at all ? Mr O'ConneU had been elected 
 by the priests and rabble of Clare to represent them in 
 Parliament. Let him retain his empty honour, or better 
 still, let him be summoned by a call of the House to the 
 bar ; and on his refusal to take the oaths, issue a new writ, 
 and go to a new election. In the first place, Mr O'Connell 
 could not be forced to attend to a caU of the House, such 
 call being obligatory only on members chosen at .a general 
 election ; and in the next, if he did attend, what then ? As 
 soon as the new writ was issued, he would take the field 
 again as a candidate, and again be elected, and so the game 
 would continue to be played, till a dissolution occurred, when 
 all those consequences of which we have elsewhere spoken 
 would inevitably come to pass.* 
 
 * The substance of a paper in the Duke's handwriting, as yet unpublished.
 
 344 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 THE CATHOLIC QUESTION DUEL WITH LORD WINCHBLSEA. 
 
 I MUST refer tlie reader who is curious in sucli matters to 
 the larger edition of this work, for a detailed account of the 
 process by which the Duke prepared his own mind and the 
 minds of others for the 'course of policy which his judgment 
 directed him to follow. He opened his plan, and the reasons 
 on which it was founded, elaborately to the King, before 
 submitting it to his colleagues, or taking counsel with others 
 than Mr Peel and Lord LjTidhurst. He found his Majesty 
 very little disposed to yield to so stern a necessity — indeed, 
 the King more than hinted at a dissolution on a Protestant 
 cry, and the certainty of securing thereby a Parliament 
 which would settle the question very differently. Some- 
 thing, too, was said at the Palace and elsewhere, of Protestant 
 Clubs, and of the influence to be exercised by them over 
 public opinion. But to Political Clubs of every kind the 
 Duke entertained a well-grounded aversion ; and from the 
 thought of civil war, which must inevitably follow such a 
 course as the King suggested, he turned with abhorrence. 
 The result was that the King consented to the consideration 
 of the Duke's plan in Cabinet — the substance of which it 
 is necessary to explain ; and for the explanation of which, 
 a few words will sufiice. 
 
 The Duke's plan embraced eight separate points. 
 
 1. He provided for throwing open to Eoman Catholics, 
 all, except certain specified offices under the Crown, on con-
 
 1828.] THE DUKE'S PLAN. 345 
 
 dition of their taking certain oatlis, as prescribed for others 
 of his Majesty's subjects. 
 
 2. He proposed to suspend, for one year, or during the 
 current session of Parliament, the acts requiring members of 
 the United Parliament of Grreat Britain and Ireland to take 
 the oath of supremacy, and subscribe a declaration against 
 the doctrine of transubstantiation. 
 
 3. He limited the right of voting in Ireland to free- 
 holders who should pay to the parish, barony, or county 
 cess, or to the whole of them, five pounds sterling or up- 
 wards per annum. 
 
 4. He stipulated for the means (£300,000 a year) of 
 taking the Eoman Catholic clergy into the pay of the 
 state. 
 
 5. He required that the Roman Catholic clergy shoidd 
 receive licences from the Crown, countersigned by a Secre- 
 tary of State, or from the Lord-Lieutenant, countersigned 
 by the Chief Secretary, without which it should not be 
 lawful for them to perform any clerical function in Ireland. 
 
 7. He declared that persons officiating Avithout such 
 licence should be deemed guilty of misdemeanor and 
 punished : for the first offence by fine ; for the second by 
 fine and imprisonment ; for the third by being sent out of 
 his Majesty's dominions. 
 
 8. He settled that no convent or monastery, or establish- 
 ment of regular clergy, or of Jesuits, should, except by his 
 Majesty's licence, be formed within the realm. 
 
 There was great boldness, as well as originality, in this 
 scheme ; at a final settlement of which, the Duke did not 
 arrive without consultation with men better read than him- 
 self in the canon law, and in the customs of the universal 
 Church. As long as points purely political stood to be con- 
 sidered, the Duke was a safe guide for himself; and in case 
 he might distrust his own judgment he had the Lord Chan- 
 cellor and other eminent constitutional lawyers to consult. 
 In matters directly or indirectly affecting the spiritual rights 
 of the Church of Eome, he was compelled to seek for in- 
 formation elsewhere, and he found it. And here, without
 
 346 DR PHILPOTTS. [1828. 
 
 undervaluing the assistance rendered by others, I must be 
 permitted to particularize one correspondent, to whom 
 the Duke made frequent references, and from whom he 
 neA'^er failed to receive the clearest and most satisfactory 
 answers. Dr Philpotts, then Dean of Chester, and Rector 
 of Grreat Stanhope, seems to have mastered the whole sub- 
 ject. To every question proposed by the Duke, he replied 
 by referring to admitted precedents, now in the authoritative 
 works of Romish jurisprudents, now in the acts, by Con- 
 cordat or otherwise, of continental Sovereigns ; and the re- 
 sult was such an accumulation of evidence as left the Duke 
 no reason to distrust the course of legislation on which he 
 proposed to enter. Submitted, in the first instance, to Mr 
 Peel and Lord Lyndhurst, and subsequently to the heads of 
 the Church, the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Bishops of 
 London, Durham, Winchestei', Lincoln, Chester, and Oxford, 
 this scheme underwent severe criticism, and many altera- 
 tions. Mr Peel objected to the raising of the franchise in 
 Ireland, and to the payment of the Irish Roman Catholic 
 priests. The prelates declared that they would never consent 
 to such payment, but were indifterent about everything else. 
 And when other members of the Cabinet came to be con- 
 sulted, still further difficulties presented themselves. The 
 consequence was, that all the most valuable arrangements 
 in the Duke's bill were struck out ; and that nothing was 
 left in the form of security for the rights of the Church, 
 except an oath, which, though taken in the letter, has never 
 been in substance observed, and which is liable at any 
 moment, when the humour of Parliament shall so run, to be 
 abolished altogether. 
 
 It is proverbially difficult in private life to keep a secret 
 which has been communicated to more than two persons. 
 It seems impossible to prevent, in public life, the oozing 
 out of matters which are discussed between Sovereigns 
 and their ministers, provided the matters themselves are 
 looked at from dift'erent points of view. George IV. had 
 king's friends apart from his constitutional advisers, and 
 the inferior members of the Duke's A.dministration were 
 not all as reticent as their superiors. Mr George Dawson,
 
 1829.] THE SCHEME OOZES OUT. 347 
 
 oue of the Lords of the Treasmy, made a speech at Derry, 
 which cost him his place for the moment, but fell like a 
 thunderbolt upon Ireland. Palace gossip complained that 
 the King was coerced by his too-powerful minister, and 
 England and Scotland were agitated with the fear of coming 
 evils. It was at this juncture, in December, 1828, that Dr 
 Curtis, formerly head of one of the Colleges in Salamanca, 
 but then the Titular Eoman Catholic Primate in Ireland, 
 wrote to the Duke, and extracted a reply which, with entire 
 disregard of propriety and honour, he hastened to make public. 
 Then came an imprudent communication from Lord Angle- 
 sey to the Catholic Associations, then a proposal from Mr 
 Peel — not now for the first time made — to resign ; and 
 finally such an appeal to the patriotism of his colleague by the 
 Duke, as Mr Peel found it impossible to resist. The results 
 are well known. The King, after a vain attempt to form 
 an Administration hostile to the Roman Catholic claims, 
 placed himself, with undisguised reluctance, in the hands of 
 his Cabinet ; and on the 4th of Pebruary, 1829, the House of 
 Commons was requested in the speech from the throne, first to 
 put down the Catholic Association, and then to consider 
 whether the disabilities under which his Majesty's Roman 
 Catholic subjects laboured could be removed " consistently 
 with the full and permanent security of our establishment in 
 Church and State, witli the maintenance of the reformed 
 religion established by law, of the rights and privileges 
 of the Bishops and of the Clergy of this nation, and of the 
 churches committed to their charge." 
 
 How this announcement was received, and what conse- 
 quences followed, — how the King made one eifort more to 
 keep the laws as they were, and failed, — these are points of 
 history which all who desire may investigate for themselves. 
 So are the details of the Duke's duel with Lord Winchelsea, 
 one of the great champions of Protestantism in and out of 
 the House of Lords. Lord Winchclsea had taken an active 
 part in October, 1828, at a public meeting on Penenden 
 Heath, to protest against Catholic Emancipation and to pledge 
 the English people to resist it to the death. He was a sub- 
 scriber, also, to King's College in London, towards the
 
 348 LORD WIXCHELSEA. [1829. 
 
 buildiBg of wlaicli the Duke had been a contributor, for the 
 avowed purpose of strengthening the Established Church in 
 the Metropolis. He now withdrew his name from the list 
 of supporters, accompanying that act with a letter to the 
 Standard newspaper in which he violently assailed the 
 Duke's private character. This was carrying political hos- 
 tility further than the Duke could allow. He obtained 
 from Lord "Winchelsea an acknowledgment that the article 
 had been written by him, and then, in a letter, mildly though 
 firmly expressed, requested that the charge in the newspaper 
 should be withdrawn and apologized for. Lord "Winchelsea 
 declined to retract and to apologize, and the matter being 
 referred to friends, a hostile meeting was agreed upon. It 
 is a curious feature in this somewhat unfortunate occurrence, 
 that, when the moment for action arrived, it was found that 
 the Duke did not possess a pair of duelling pistols. Con- 
 sidering the length of time which he had spent in the 
 army, and the habits of military society towards the close of 
 last century, that fact bore incontestable evidence to the 
 conciliatory temper and great discretion of the Duke. Sir 
 Henry Hardinge, therefore, who acted as the Duke's friend, 
 was forced to look for pistols elsewhere ; and borrowed them 
 at last, he himself being as unprovided as his principal, 
 from Dr Hume, the medical man who accompanied them to 
 the ground. 
 
 The details of this remarkable duel are well known. The 
 combatants met in Battersea Pields, now converted into Bat- 
 tersea Park, — the Duke attended by Sir Henry Hardinge, 
 Lord "Winchelsea by the Earl of Ealmouth, — and Lord Win- 
 chelsea, having received the Duke's fire, discharged his pis- 
 tol in the air. A written explanation was then produced 
 by Lord "Winchelsea's second, which the Duke declined to 
 receive unless the term " apology " were introduced into it, 
 and the point being yielded, they separated, as they had 
 met, with cold civility. Long after the events themselves 
 had ceased to occupy public attention, the writer of this 
 history took advantage of the Duke's great kindness to 
 refer to them in one of those confidential conversations with 
 which he was occasionally honoured. The Duke's opinion
 
 1829.J THE DUKE'S OriXIOX UNCHANGED. 349 
 
 respecting the propriety, indeed the necessity, of the course 
 which he followed, on the occasion, had undergone no 
 change. " Tou speak as a moralist," he observed, smiling, 
 " and I assure you that I am no advocate of duelling under 
 ordinary cirumstances ; but my difference with Lord Win- 
 chelsea, considering the cause in which it originated, and 
 the critical position of affairs at the moment, can scarcely be 
 regarded as a private quarrel. He refused to me, being the 
 King's minister, what every man in or out of office may 
 fairly claim, — the right to change his views under a change 
 of circumstances on a great public question. He did his 
 best to establish the principle, that a man in my situation 
 must be a traitor, unless he adhere through thick and thin 
 to a policy once advocated. His attack upon me was part 
 of a plan to render the conduct of public affairs impossible 
 to the Bang's servants. I did my best to make him under- 
 stand the nature of his mistake, and showed him how he 
 might escape from it. He rejected my advice, and there re- 
 mained for me only one means of extorting from him an 
 acknowledgment that he was wrong." 
 
 " But he behaved well on the ground, at all events ; he 
 refused to fire at you." 
 
 " Certainly he did not fire at me ; and seeing that such 
 was his intention, I turned my j)istol aside, and fired wide of 
 him ; but that did not make amends for the outrageous 
 charge brought against me in his letter. It was only the 
 admission that the charge was outrageous which at all 
 atoned for that ; and it would have been more creditable 
 to him had he made it when first requested to do so, than 
 at last. He behaved, however, with great coolness, and 
 was, and I am sure continues to be, very sorry that he 
 allowed his temper to run away with him."
 
 350 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 DEATH OP GEORGE IV. STATE OF PARTIES REVOLUTION IN 
 
 FRANCE GENERAL ELECTION DEATH OF MR HUSKISSON 
 
 THE DUKE RESIGNS. 
 
 The passing of the liomau Catholic Belief Bill broke up 
 the Tory party. All who opposed the measure went into 
 opposition, and in both Houses might by and by be seen 
 sitting and voting together, Peers and members of Parlia- 
 ment who never before took the same view of any one political 
 question. An immense impulse was thereby given to the 
 cause of Parliamentary Beform, and the Duke, who had been 
 quite ready in the case of East Betford to transfer members 
 from a small to a large town, became alarmed at the urgency 
 with which more sweeping propositions were brought forward. 
 There was no struggle during the remainder of the session 
 of 1829. The opposition had not yet consolidated itself, and 
 the Grovernment was cautious. But with 1S30 began a 
 strife, which ended in the greatest bloodless revolution 
 which the world has ever witnessed. 
 
 It was the Duke's custom during the recess to divide his 
 time between Strathfieldsaye and Walmcr Castle, to the 
 wardenship of which, on the death of Lord Liverpool, the 
 King had appointed him. He paid occasional visits also 
 to his friends, and one of these, anxious if possible to bring 
 about a reconciliation between him and the Canningites, 
 invited Mr Huskisson to meet the Duke at his house. 
 Nothing came of the arrangement. Mr Huskisson made 
 no direct advances to the Duke nor the Duke to him, 
 and they parted, as it seemed, on termSj neither friendly
 
 1830.] CLOUDS GATHER. 351 
 
 nor the reverse. Mr Huskisson, however, appears to have 
 taken ill the reserve -with which he was treated. He had 
 been moderate hitherto, though not friendly, in his place in 
 Parliament. He took an early opportunity in 1830 of going 
 into violent opposition. 
 
 The state of Portugal, and the war between Bussia and 
 the Porte, ending in the treaty of Adrianople, gave the 
 Duke a good deal of trouble. He made his way through 
 these difficulties, however, by temper and moderation, and 
 on the 4th of February, 1830, met Parliament again. His 
 majorities, not for some time great, began to fall off, and in 
 several trials of minor importance he sustained a check. 
 Meanwhile IVIr O'Connell returned to his old trade hx Ire- 
 land, agitating for a repeal of the Union. In Birmingham, 
 likewise, an uncomfortable spirit began to show itself, and 
 the Political Union, the parent of many similar societies 
 which afterwards sprang up both in England and Scotland, 
 came into existence. Then came repeated motions for Par- 
 liamentary Reform, on one of which, introduced by Lord John 
 Eussell, the ministerial majority was barely 48. It was the 
 first muttering of the storm which was ere long to biu'st 
 and carry all before it. 
 
 And here let me once more observe that the Duke was 
 neither blind nor indifferent to the abuses which had crept 
 into the constitution. He had a theory of his own con- 
 cerning nomination boroughs, that they were the main-stay 
 of Imperial, as distinguished from merely British govern- 
 ment. But he always spoke with bitterness of the grasping 
 ambition of individuals, who, whether peers or commoners, 
 strove to accumulate them in their own hands. " They are 
 blind," he used to say, " to their own interests, which can- 
 not be separated from those of the state. They do not see 
 that they are perverting to the worst purposes an institu- 
 tion which ought to have been rendered subservient to the 
 best. Instead of leaving these boroughs so distributed, 
 that men of all shades of political opinion, and representing 
 all the great interests of the empire, may, if they possess 
 but talent and character, find their way through them into 
 the House of Commons, they go into the market, and pur-
 
 352 THE DISSOLUTION. [1830. 
 
 cbase up one after another, witli no other end in view than 
 to provide for their own dependents, and promote their own 
 objects. Over and over again it has been pressed upon me 
 to become the proprietor of a borough ; but I would have 
 nothing to say to the proposal — I would not dirty my. fin- 
 gers with so vile a job." 
 
 The session wore on unsatisfactorily to all parties. A 
 Government, too feeble to attempt great measures, con- 
 fronted an opposition scarcely prepared to turn them out ; 
 and trifling losses and trifling gains marked the progress of 
 the Parliamentary campaign on both sides. At last it came 
 out that the health of George IV. was failing, and on 
 the 26th of June, 1830, he expired. The Duke had not a 
 high opinion of the King's moral qualities. His Majesty's 
 intellectual powers might have been above the average had 
 they received proper cultivation. But even in that resi^ect 
 he fell beneath what his station required, and was often 
 difl&cult to manage. Yet his death at this crisis of afiiiirs, 
 both at home and abroad, was felt by the Duke and his 
 friends to be a misfortune. An early dissolution became 
 inevitable, aud the signs of the times gave small encourage- 
 ment to anticipate that from a general election the Govern- 
 ment would gain strength. 
 
 On the 23rd of July the dissolution took place. On the 
 27th of the same month the Prench revolution broke out, and 
 on the 30th the elder branch of the House of Bourbon was 
 again in exile. It was impossible but that scenes enacted 
 in a country so near as Prance should make their influence 
 felt in England. The resistance to the ordinances of 
 Charles X. had been preceded in Normandy and else- 
 where by a succession of incendiary fires. In the 
 autumn of 1830, machine-breaking aud inceiidiarism be- 
 came rife in England, and everywhere an outcry was raised 
 that the Duke was plotting to deprive the nation of its 
 liberties. A general election, carried on during such an 
 excitement as this, could have only one result. Before the 
 Houses met, the most sanguine of their supporters gave up 
 all hope of commanding in the new House of Commons a 
 majority for ministers.
 
 1830.] WILLIAM IV. 3^3 
 
 Indifferent so far as lie was liimself concerned, as to what 
 might happen, yet thoughtful to the last of the interests of 
 the country, the Duke did not lose a single day in recog- 
 nizing the new Government which the French had set up. 
 He ■wrote, also, to the other great powers, urging them to 
 follow his example, and if he failed to succeed viith. the 
 whole of them, he at all events divided them, and so pre- 
 vented the occurrence of war. Of the revolt of Belgium 
 from Holland, which almost immediately followed, he was 
 less tolerant. He did not believe that the Belgians had 
 been oppressed by their King, and he was reluctant to see 
 the State which he had been mainly instrumental in estab- 
 lishing, destroyed upon false pretences. But before time 
 was given to mature a specific line of action, events befell, 
 which relieved him on that, and on other equally important 
 heads, from further responsibility. 
 
 William IV. ascended the throne, happy in the pres- 
 tige which always attends novelty, and still more so in a 
 character for straightforwardness, which contrasted favour- 
 ably with what men believed of his predecessor. He went 
 about showing himself everywhere, and achieved immense 
 popularity, especially among the poorer classes. Meanwhile 
 the Duke, occupied as he was, found time in the autumn of 
 this year to take part in a melancholy pageant. The first 
 railway ever used for passenger traffic, that which George 
 Stephenson laid down between Liverpool and Manchester, 
 Avas about to be opened, and the directors besought the 
 Duke to honour the enterprise with his presence. They 
 who are too young to remember the dawn of what is now a 
 great system, would find it diflScult to conceive the amount 
 of interest which was excited by that event. At every 
 table, and nowhere more frequently than at the table of the 
 Duke, men reasoned upon the probable chances of success 
 or failure, and when the Duke himself quitted "Walmer, 
 for the purpose of making a personal trial of vrhat was then 
 a mystery, not a few of the guests, whom he left behind, 
 thought with apprehension of the risks to which be was 
 going to expose himself. 
 
 They proved little hazardous to him, because he attended 
 23
 
 35i DEATH OF Mil nUSKISSOX. [1830. 
 
 rigidly to the instructions whicli lie received. To another 
 great statesman, less observant of the rules of discipline, 
 they were fatal. Mr Huskisson unfortunately quitted his 
 carriage when the train stopped to take in a supply of water ; 
 and losing his presence of mind, while attempting to re-enter 
 it, fell back across the rail, and was killed. The Duke, who 
 saw the accident, — he was indeed the first to go to the assist- 
 ance of the wounded man, — seems to have been overwhelmed 
 with grief. He described it, on his return to "Walmer, as 
 one of the saddest events which, in the course of a career 
 not strange to heart-rending incidents, he had ever witnessed ; 
 indeed, there is some reason to believe that the memories 
 associated with this, his first essay, were not without their 
 eff'ect in strengthening, if they did not create, that disinclin- 
 ation to railway travelling which adhered to him ever after. 
 Be this as it may, the fiict remains, that in spite of the suc- 
 cess which attended the Liverpool and Manchester line, tlie 
 Duke never could be persuaded, directly or indirectly, to 
 countenance the extension of the system in other quarters. 
 When it was proposed, not long afterwards, to connect 
 Southampton with London by rail, he gave to the project all 
 the opposition in his power ; and, more characteristic still, 
 he continued in all his journeys to travel post, till the im- 
 possibility of finding horses along the deserted high-roads of 
 Kent and Hampshire compelled him to abandon the practice. 
 The autumn passed away amid incendiarism in the rural 
 districts, and agitation and discontent in the great towns ; 
 and on the 26th of October Parliament met. It soon became 
 evident to the most devoted of their supporters that the min- 
 isters had gained nothing from the dissolution. A major- 
 ity of the English counties, all the large and many of the 
 smaller boroughs, had declared against them ; and in Ireland 
 opposition was rampant. Scotland, however, stood by them ; 
 and they carried, chiefly by the votes of the Scotch mem- 
 bers, both the election of the speaker, and the address in 
 answer to the King's ^speech. But there their triumphs 
 ended. Lord Grey, in an able but violent speech, having 
 impugned all their measures, as well foreign as domestic, de- 
 manded a large measure of Parliamentary Ecform, and was
 
 1830.] THE DUKE'S DECLAEATIOX. Son 
 
 answered by the Duke in terms which, to say the least, were 
 more frank than the occasion required. It seemed, indeed, 
 as if he were anxious to bring the question between himself 
 and his political opponents to an issue. Premising a state- 
 ment of his general views in an argument too curt, perhaps 
 too subtle, to carry with it much weight, he concluded thus : 
 " I cannot say that I am prepared to bring forward any mea- 
 sure of this nature ; but I will at once declare that, as far 
 as I am concerned, as long as I hold any situation in the 
 Grovernment of this country, I shall always feel it my duty 
 to resist such measures when proposed by others." 
 
 Had the Duke's early years been sj)ent in the British 
 House of Commons, instead of in the command of armies, 
 and the management of foreign governments, he would have 
 avoided any such ill-timed and peremptory announcement. 
 There was no specific motion before Parliament which it had 
 become his duty to consider ; neither was a question put to 
 him, as it had been put two years before, pointedly, to Mr 
 Canning. His declaration against reform was therefore 
 gratuitous, and to a certain extent defiant. jS^ow it seldom 
 happens that in free assemblies a tone of defiance is a wise 
 tone ; and it becomes especially unwise if the body addressed 
 be dissatisfied, reasonably or unreasonably, with the speaker. 
 ISo doubt the Duke's argument, taken as a whole, agreed 
 with the interpretation which he subsequently put upon it. 
 It neither pledged, nor was intended to pledge, him against all 
 change. But it fell upoii the ears of men who could listen 
 to no statement from him, except in anger, and who gave to 
 it the interpretation which best suited their own purposes. 
 A more wary politician would have avoided a mistake which 
 was as unfortunate to himself as to the country. Unpopu- 
 lar before, he became tenfold more unpopular now, and his 
 speech, commented upon by newspapers and stump orators, 
 spread the contagion into every corner of the empire. 
 
 His final blunder of all, for a blunder it undoubtedly was, 
 arose out of that horror of bloodshed, except when some 
 great occasion requii-ed, which was constitutional to him. It 
 had been settled that William TV. should dine with the 
 Lord Mayor on the 9th of November. AH the preparations 
 
 23 *
 
 356 COMBIXATIOX AGAINST THE DUKE. [1830. 
 
 were complete, and the public had been informed of what was 
 about to take place, when a note from the Lord Mayor elect 
 announced that a plot to assassinate the King and the Duke 
 on the way to the Mansion House, had been discovered. 
 The Cabinet met, and came to the conclusion that the Eoyal 
 visit must be postponed, and the fact of the postponement 
 was made public next day through the newspapers. A fu- 
 rious outburst of political indignation followed. The Duke 
 had done it all. By his arbitrary proceedings he had so dis- 
 gusted the people, that it was no longer safe for the King to 
 pass through his own capital. The funds fell ; trade grew 
 stagnant ; more than one speculator became bankrupt. No 
 mercy was shown to the Government in either House of 
 Parliament by the enemy ; their friends, either overawed, or 
 from sheer lack of ability, failed to support them as they 
 ought to have done. Tlie Duke listened calmly to the abuse 
 which in the House of Lords was heaped upon him. He did 
 not so much as condescend to reply to it ; but he felt, as did 
 his colleagues, that public opinion was against him, and he 
 made up his mind to embrace the first convenient opportu- 
 nity of retiring from office. 
 
 The opportunity thus sought for was not slow in present- 
 ing itself. A combination of Tories with Whigs and Ultra 
 Liberals had already decided on the overthrow of the Admin- 
 istration, which it was resolved to effect by placing them in 
 a minority on the bringing up of the civil list. Beyond this, 
 however, the Tories appear never to have looked. They had 
 no plans formed, no arrangements made for constructing a 
 new Administi'ation. In themselves, indeed, they were too 
 weak to grasp at power, and it does not appear that they 
 had so much as opened a negotiation for sharing with their 
 new allies the spoils of oflSce. One master passion ruled 
 them wholly, — they yearned to be avenged on the man 
 whom they had taught themselves to regard as a political 
 traitor ; and in order to appease that longing, they gave 
 themselves up to play the game of a party, whose traditions 
 were all antagonistic to their own, and from whom they did 
 not so much as pretend to expect any mercy. 
 
 On the 12th of November, the Chancellor of the Exche-
 
 1830.] THE DUKE EESIGNS. 357 
 
 quer brought forward liis scheme for the civil list, fixing the 
 amount to be settled on the Crown at £970,000. Several 
 of the details in his project were objected to ; and on the 
 15th, when he asked for his vote, Sir Henry Parnell pro- 
 posed, and Sir Edward Elnatchbull seconded a motion, that 
 the accounts should be submitted to a select committee to 
 be examined. JSToav this course, though unusual, was not 
 entirely unprecedented. The ministers, without any loss of 
 dignity, might have assented to it ; but they had determined 
 to stand or fall on this question, rather than enter, with 
 untried strength, on the still more formidable contest 
 with Avhich they were threatened. Por Mr Brougham's 
 notice of motion for leave to bring in a Parliamentary Iveform 
 Bill lay on the table ; and whatever the nature of his scheme 
 might be, they shrank from opposing it till they should have 
 succeeded in beating their enemies in a fair stand-up fight 
 on some less critical point. The battle was accordingly fought 
 on the civil-list question, and it ended unfavourably for the 
 G-overnment ; ministers were defeated in a full house, by a 
 majority of 29. 
 
 The blow was struck, and none recoiled from it more im- 
 mediately than the section of angry Tories, who were mainly 
 instrumental in delivering it. They had achieved their pur- 
 pose, and stood aghast ; for no time Avas lost with the Duke 
 in placing his resignation in the hands of the Ejng ; and on 
 the 16th the Lords Avere informed by him, the Commons by 
 Mr, now Sir Eobert, Peel, that ministers held ofiice only till 
 their successors should be appointed.
 
 868 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 THE REFORM BILL DISSOLUTION OP PARLIAMENT THE 
 
 duke's windows BROKEN — THE BILL THROWN OUT IN THE 
 
 LORDS RIOTS IN LONDON THE DUKE's LIFE THREATENED 
 
 AT DEAL. 
 
 It is perhaps natural that a ministei" retiring from office 
 in times of strong excitement, should take very gloomy views 
 of the state of those public affairs which he had not himself 
 been permitted to guide. To the Duke, now nothing more 
 than a peer of Parliament, visions of the darkest hue were 
 coi\tinually present. He saw the political unions in Eng- 
 land and Scotland acquiring from day to day more perfect 
 organization and a wider influence. In Ireland, Mr O'Con- 
 nell appeared to be raised above the control of law, for Lord 
 Grey's Grovernment, though it obtained a verdict of sedition 
 against him, shrank from inflicting the penalty. All this 
 seemed to the Duke's excited imagination to indicate that 
 the new Cabinet was prepared to go to the utmost lengths, 
 in order to conciliate the democracy ; on which, indeed, and 
 on which alone, he conceived that it would be driven in the 
 end to rely. Nor were the prospects which met him while 
 contemplating the condition of the continent, and the pro- 
 bable line to be taken by England in dealing with foreign 
 powers, more satisfactory. He had gone down to Walmer 
 immediately on surrendering the seals of office, and he re- 
 mained there during tlie brief recess which followed. A small 
 circle of intimate friends were with him, and his conversation
 
 1S31.] THE DUKE AT WALMER. 359 
 
 tlirouglioiit was more grave and subdued than on any pre- 
 vious occasion I remember it to have been. " I don't see 
 how these men are to carry on the government," he used to 
 say, " so as to maintain order at home or peace abroad. It's 
 very well for Lord Grey to talk about standing out for re- 
 form, retrenchment, and non-intervention. Reform, as he 
 calls it, he may or may not get ; retrenchment I'll defy him 
 to carry farther than we have done, unless he sacrifice the 
 great institutions of the coantrj ; and as to non-interven- 
 tion, — Avith all the sympathies of his party enlisted on the 
 side of democracy, that is in his case impossible. Mark my 
 words ; you'll see the Belgian insurrection taken up, and a 
 French army in the Netherlands before many months are 
 over ; and then, if Austria, Eussia, and Prussia move, what 
 is to save Europe from a renewal of scenes which no man 
 who has once taken part in them would ever desire to wit- 
 ness again ? " 
 
 " But they are acting vigorously in the matter of the 
 rural disturbances, at all events, and Mr Stanley seems de- 
 termined to stop the agitator's career in Ireland." 
 
 " They are doing in the rural districts the work which we 
 had begun, and handed over to them ; but what do you say 
 to their intimacy Avith the political unions ? Do you think 
 they will be able to lay the storm which they have raised in 
 Birmingham, Leeds, and Grlasgow ; or prevent it from 
 sweeping away all the safeguards of the constitution ? As 
 to O'Connell, depend upon it that whatever Mr Stanley may 
 wish to do, Mr Stanley's masters have other uses to make 
 of the great O, than to gag him." 
 
 Parliament met after the recess in Pebruary, 1831, and 
 that struggle immediately began which emled, more than a 
 year afterwards, in the passing of tlie Reform Bill. To the 
 bill in question the Duke, as is well known, oflered at every 
 stage all the resistance in his power. He regarded it as 
 the first great step in a course of policy Avhich, whether de- 
 signedly or not, must destroy the constitution ; and he wrote 
 and spoke about it as men are apt to do about a terrible 
 calamity when it is impending. Had he been in a position,
 
 360 THE EEFORM BILL. [1831. 
 
 before the bill was introduced, to advise with the authority, 
 which at a later period was conceded to him, the House of 
 Commons would have refused to consider it at all. Had the 
 old Tory party, when the second reading came on, been capable 
 of holding the balance even between their convictions and 
 their passions, the House would have rejected it then. But 
 the ministers had made their arrangements with such pru- 
 dent secrecy, that when first ofiered to the legislature, it 
 took all parties by surprise ; while the debate on the second 
 reading showed, that among such as were offended with it, 
 there were many who preferred it to the thought of bring- 
 ing back the Duke and his friends to power. Hence min- 
 isters succeeded in affirming the principle of their measure 
 by a narrow majority of nine. And when the House in com- 
 mittee began to cavil at details they at once dissolved. 
 How all this Avas brought about, with what violence of lan- 
 guage in-doors and out ; how the political unions and the 
 newspapers supported the ministers, and the multitude 
 shouted for the bill, the whole bill, and nothing but the bill, 
 these are matters which have long since passed into history. 
 It is not, therefore, my purpose to give any detailed account 
 of them here, but rather to confine myself, as closely as I 
 can, to the influence which they exercised over the Duke's 
 person; J proceedings, and the position in w^hich they left 
 him when the storm blew over. 
 
 The Duke was not in his place in the House of Lords on 
 that memorable day when the King went down to dissolve 
 Parliament. He had been in attendance for some time 
 previously at the sick bed of the Duchess, and she expired 
 just as the Park guns began to fire. He was, therefore, 
 ignorant of the state into which liondon had fallen, till a 
 surging crowd swept up from "Westminster to Piccadilly, 
 shouting, and yelling, and offering violence to all whom they 
 suspected of being anti-reformers. By and by volleys of 
 stones came crashing through the windows at Apsley 
 House, breaking them to pieces and doing injury to more 
 than one valuable picture in the gallery. The Duke bore 
 the outrage as well as he could, but determined never to 
 run a similar risk again. He guarded his windows, as soon
 
 1831.] THE DUKE'S TARTY. 361 
 
 as quiet was restored, with iron shutters, and left them 
 there to the day of his death, a standing memento of a na- 
 tion's ingratitude. 
 
 The violence of the mob, and the apparent complicity of 
 the Grovernment in its proceedings, put an end at once to 
 the hesitation of the old Tories. Mortifying it might be to 
 find themselves again under the leadership of one whom 
 they had so recently expelled from ofiice. But the evil, 
 tliough serious, was less than that with which they seemed 
 to be threatened. A majority of them, therefore, besought 
 him once more to place himself at their head. The members 
 of his own party generally stood by him, and not a few out- 
 siders, public men who had formerly been Whigs, private 
 persons who had never before taken any part in politics, 
 proffered to him their allegiance, and undertook to Avork for 
 him. Encouraged by an appearance of what he called a 
 return to reason, the Duke in the teeth of such a majority 
 as had never before supported a G-overnment in the House 
 of Commons, determined to resist the progress of the bill. 
 He fought for delay, hoping, and indeed persuading himself, 
 that if time only could be gained, such a reaction might 
 occur in the country, as would enable him to take the mea- 
 sure out of the hands which now directed it, and deliver 
 it from some of its most objectionable features. Standing 
 u]), however, as he did, for constitutional government, he 
 refused to fight even that battle except on constitutional 
 grounds. Being invited by Lord Wharncliffe, before the 
 writs for the new Parliament were issued, to meet a body 
 of conservative Peers and consult with them as to the 
 course to be pursued, he declined to take part in the pro- 
 ceeding. " The Peers," he wrote, " have been dissolved as 
 a House of Parliament, and if they meet as invited, they will 
 meet as peers without his Majesty's authority, and contrary 
 to his inclination, to discuss his last act in relation to them- 
 selves." This, in the Duke's opinion, would have been a 
 measure neither becoming nor judicious. In like manner, 
 while he counselled his friends in the House of Commons 
 to resist the measure clause by clause, and to protract the 
 struggle to the utmost, he prepared the Lords for throwing
 
 362 THREATS OF ASSASSINATION. [1831, 
 
 out the bill ^vhen it came to them ; and this they accord- 
 ingly did on the second reading, by a majority of 40. Par- 
 liament was thereupon prorogued, and there followed, both 
 in town and country, such a series of outrages as cannot now 
 be spoken of except with shame. The burning of the Castle 
 of Nottingham, and the sack of Bristol, were but specimens 
 of what mobs will do when excited to violence by appeals to 
 their passions, and set free, as they imagine, from the re- 
 straints of law. 
 
 I am not aware that on this occasion the Duke suffered any 
 personal indignity. He quitted London immediately on the 
 prorogation, and spent, if I recollect right, a few days at Hat- 
 field. But the business of the Cinque Ports required his pre- 
 sence at Walmer, and he gave notice of the day and hour of 
 his coming. Now Deal, poor as it was, had caught the infa- 
 tuation of the hour, and as I lived in the neighbourhood 
 of Deal at that time, and happened to be in the Commission 
 of the Peace for the county of Kent, more came to my 
 knowledge of what my neighbours were doing than might 
 otherwise have reached me. One evening, after dusk, a 
 person, wrapped in a seaman's great-coat, was ushered into 
 my study. I knew him, for he was a character in his way. 
 During the French war he had j^layed the part of a spy, 
 while carrying on with the connivance of Government a 
 smuggling trade with the opposite coast ; and he now lived, 
 though not in affluence, upon his savings. He was the 
 bearer that evening of information which I certainly did not 
 credit, but which it was my duty to convey to the Duke, 
 and wliich I conveyed to him accordingly. A plot, it was 
 said, had been concocted in one of the low public-houses 
 for attacking the Duke's carriage when it should arrive at a 
 lonely part of the road between Sandwich and the Deal 
 turnpike. The answer which I received by return of post 
 was very characteristic. Information of this plot had been 
 communicated to the Duke from Dover also. For his own 
 part, he always distrusted the stories of spies, wlio were apt 
 cither to invent tales to suit their own ])urposes, or to be 
 active in getting up the plots which they afterwards betrayed. 
 He had written to the Mayor of Dover, and informed him
 
 1832.J AEEIYES AT THE CASTLE. 363 
 
 that duty required his presence at Wahner, and to Walmer 
 he had determined to go. It was the business of the Govern- 
 ment and of the magistrates to protect the King's subjects, 
 particularly when traA'elling on his Majesty's service. He 
 should, however, instead of setting out at 10 o'clock, as he 
 had intended, leave London at six on the following morning, 
 and he suspected that they who molested him on the road, 
 would come second best out of the collision, if a collision 
 should occur. 
 
 All this was good as far as it went, but several gentlemen 
 in the neighbourhood couceived, as well as myself, that the 
 Duke's life was too precious to be exposed to the smallest 
 risk. Next morning, therefore, I rode to meet him, which I 
 did between the villages of AVingham and Ash, when he 
 begged me to come into his carriage while his servant rode 
 my horse. At Sandwich we changed horses, and soon after 
 passing through the town, overtook eight well-mounted men 
 of Kent, who immediately broke into two parties, four riding 
 about 100 yards in front of the carriage, while the others 
 followed. They all carried heavy hunting whips, and were 
 besides armed with pistols, as I found Avere likewise the 
 Duke himself and his servant. But no enemy appeared. 
 The carriage swept up to the old castle gate, and the volun- 
 tary escort, having seen the Duke safe, dispersed without 
 attracting attention. 
 
 Probably at no period of his life was the Duke engaged 
 in a more voluminous correspondence than during the 
 months which intervened between the prorogation and the 
 re-assembling of the present Parliament. Not content with 
 sitting down to his desk as early as six in the morning, I 
 have seen him, when the castle was full of guests, go on 
 with his letier-writing after dinner in the drawing-room, 
 either regardless of the buzz of conversation which passed 
 around him, or else stopping from time to time to take part 
 in it. And yet, cheerful and good-humoured as he was, he 
 could not quite forget that the very men Avho now turned 
 to him for advice, were in many instances those who had 
 driven him out of office. " Tou see how they come about 
 me," he once observed ; " they were never satisfied till they
 
 364 THE DURE AT EASTWELL. [1832. 
 
 got rid of me as a minister ; and now they want me to put 
 my neck in the halter for them. As if I cared one farthin^j 
 for their personal influence, or for their boroughs either, ex- 
 cept that I know the importance of the latter to the balance 
 of power in the state." 
 
 Among the consequences of the agricultural riots of 
 1829-30 was the re-enrolment, in various pai'ts of England, 
 of corps of yeomanry cavalry ; one of which was raised, 
 mainly through the exertions of the Earl of Winchelsea, in 
 East Kent. Lord AYinchelsea, when he began to recruit, 
 was one of the warmest supporters of Earl Grey ; and, as 
 a matter of course, an equally warm denouncer of the 
 Duke of Wellington and his policy. Eut times were now 
 changed ; and Lord "Winchelsea, like many other Tory 
 peers, after vainly striving to become reconciled to the 
 ministerial Eeform Bill, had broken off from his Whig con- 
 nexions, and placed himself again under the political guid- 
 ance of the Duke. He invited the Duke this autumn to 
 Eastwell Park, where a grand review of his regiment took 
 place ; and where the reception awarded to the Lord War- 
 den of the Cinque Ports by upwards of 400 well-mounted 
 and well-armed yeomen, could not fail to be very gratifying 
 to him. 
 
 But small triumphs like this were far from compensating to 
 the Duke for the graver and more trying disappointments 
 which seemed, day by day, to gather round him. In the 
 House of Commons not one convert could be reckoned 
 upon. Indeed the rejection of the Bill by the Lords 
 seemed but to strengthen the determination of the majority 
 to admit of no compromise even if ministers themselves 
 were to propose it. And more distressing than even this, 
 in the Duke's estimation, were the symptoms of wavering 
 which began to be exhibited among the Lords themselves. 
 A considerable section of the Upper House, headed by 
 Lords Whariicliffe and Harrowby, felt and said that they 
 had done enough, and that in the coming session they must 
 no longer attempt to stop, but be satisfied with accepting 
 and as much as possible modifying the ministerial measure. 
 Now this was entirely opposed to the Duke's view of
 
 1832.] THE •WAVEEERS. SG5 
 
 things. He admitted that to avoid a measure, and a large 
 measure, of Parliamentary E,eform was no longer possible ; 
 but lie contended that it should not be left to Lord Grey's 
 Administration to carry that measure, because, in the first 
 place. Lord Grey would never consent to modify his own 
 plan, however slightly, and in the next place, his supporters 
 out of doors would not allow him to do so, were he ever so 
 much disposed. The Duke's argument amounted to this : 
 If you are prepared to accept the Bill as it is, pass the 
 second reading when it comes into the House of Lords. If 
 you are not prepared for this, throw the Bill out. There 
 will be a little rioting out of doors, as there was before ; 
 but that is all. Ministers will resign ; a new Government 
 will be formed ; and a new Keform Bill introduced by that 
 Government. It will please the political unions, and the 
 mob, less than Lord Grey's Bill, but it will satisfy all rea- 
 sonable men of all shades of opinion, and by and by the 
 country will settle down to its old pursuits and habits of 
 thinking. 
 
 Wben threatened with another prorogation, to be followed 
 with a creation of peers on such a scale as virtually to extin- 
 guish the House of Lords, his answer was, " I don't believe 
 that Lord Grey will recommend, or the King consent, to so 
 violent a proceeding, — at all events till the experiment of a 
 change of Government is tried. But if I be mistaken, it is 
 surely better that the House of Lords should suffer this 
 outrage from the Government than from us. For if against 
 our consciences we vote for the second reading, we shall do 
 so from intimidation, and the influence which we now exer- 
 cise over public opinion will be lost. Besides, what will 
 you gain by reading the Bill a second time. If Lord Grey 
 be capable of destroying the constitution in order to secure 
 the second reading, do you think he will be more scrupu- 
 lous if he find himself in danger of being defeated in com- 
 mittee?" It was thus that the Duke continued to urge open 
 opposition in the Lords — being convinced of two things, 
 first, that the passing of the Bill, as it then stood, would 
 undermine the whole fabric of the constitution ; and next, 
 that its rejection would be attended with no evils which a
 
 366 LORD WHAENCLIFFE. [1832. 
 
 change of Governmeut, and a little firmness, as well as con- 
 cession, could not easily remove. 
 
 The voluminous correspondence which the Duke carried 
 on with Lord Wharuclifie and others will be found in the 
 larger edition of this work. It had the same object in view 
 throughout, but the object was not attained. Lords Wharn- 
 cliife and Ilarrowby entered into negotiations with Earl 
 G-rey. They waited upon him by appointment at Sheen, 
 and failed to obtain a single concession. Strange to say, 
 they still persuaded themselves that when the measure came 
 into committee, his Majesty's ministers would yield collect- 
 ively much which the chief of the Cabinet individually 
 refused. And so believing, and persuading others so to 
 believe, they voted for the second reading, which, after a 
 debate protracted throughout three nights, was carried by a 
 majority of nine. 
 
 The Duke felt this parliamentary defeat pretty much as 
 he would have done the loss of a great battle in the field. 
 Grieved and mortified he did not conceal that he was, yet 
 to all outward appearance at least he never lost heart. 
 With Lord Wharncliff"e and his friends he declined to con- 
 tinue upon terms of confidence. He consulted them no 
 more upon the course to be pursued in committee, far less 
 gave any countenance to the negotiations which they 
 opened afresh with Earl Grey. Lord Lyndhurst was now, 
 as he had always been, his chief adviser. With his own 
 hand, he drew up the sketch of a new bill, for which he 
 and his friends agreed to contend. The principal features in 
 this modified plan were these, that no borough should return 
 less than two members ; that no addition should be made to 
 the number of metropolitan members ; and that voters for bo- 
 roughs should not claim the right of voting for counties also. 
 Lito schedule A it was proposed so far to introduce modifica- 
 tions, that room should be left for the representation of 
 the Colonies in Parliament. As to keeping knots of bo- 
 roughs in the hands of individual proprietors, the Duke 
 was not prepared to fight such a battle as that. And if 
 after all the thought reverted to his mind, that no new 
 arrangements could serve the monarchy as the old had
 
 1832.] CORRESPOXDENCE. 367 
 
 done, he foimd comfort iu belieying that liis modifications, if 
 accepted, would render change more gradual, and therefore 
 less dangerous to the great institutions of the country. 
 
 The Duke sent coj^ies of his proposed amendments to 
 many peers. He "wrote about them likewise to some of his 
 friends who were not peers, and I think that the following 
 brief correspondence will better show than any narrative of 
 mine in what channel his thoughts were at the moment 
 running. 
 
 " Ash, near "Wingham, 1st May, 1832. 
 
 " My dear Lord Duke, 
 
 " I have read your Grace's letter with profound 
 sorrow, because its tone corresponds but too well with 
 my own previous notions of the existing state of things. 
 Perhaps you will say that I need not trouble you with a 
 letter in order to say this, nor would I, except that it 
 occurs to me that the very projects which you tell me are 
 entertained, must prove eminently mischievous. The Con- 
 servative peers may rely upon it, that the period when 
 opposition might have been made to good purpose has 
 passed away. By admitting the Bill to a second reading, 
 they have given up the principle ; and matters of detail 
 are not only not worth contending for, but the victories 
 gained will all be productive of evil. 
 
 " Supposing that the King does not make peers, what 
 will follow ? You must pass the Bill in some shape or 
 another. Tou cannot, by any alterations in committee, 
 render it materially less mischievous than it is. But you 
 will alter it considerably, so considerably as to make it 
 unpalatable to all parties. If passed in its integrity, I am 
 sure that it will, sooner or later, disappoint its advocates ; 
 if passed with your mutilations, it will disappoint them also. 
 But in the latter case you will be blamed for evils which are 
 founded, not in your alterations, but in the Bill itself. 
 
 " Of course your Grace knows much better than I what 
 to do ; and, were I a peer, I should put myself implicitly 
 into your hands ; but my firm persuasion is, that your best 
 policy now is to let the measure go through the third read-
 
 368 HIS LETTER. [1832. 
 
 ing as it stands, and so to cast all the odium of its conse- 
 quences on the shoulders of its authors." 
 
 u My dear , " ^°^'^°^' -^^ ^^^y' ^^^2- 
 
 " I have received your letter of the 1st instant, which 
 affords a good deal of room for reflection. Is it true that 
 we cannot do any good by mending the Bill ? 
 
 " The metropolitan representation is ruin. "We may, 
 possibly Ave shall, get rid of that. The democracy has, by 
 the Bill, a positive gain of sixty-four members. We may 
 reduce those members very considerably. We may improve 
 Schedules A and B. AV^e may improve the £10 franchise. 
 All this would be important, if the measure is to be carried 
 into execution. 
 
 " Ton say truly, that it will not give satisfaction. In our 
 state of society nothing will give satisfaction. It would be 
 best to remain as we are ; but not being able to remain as 
 we are, I think that we ought not to pay attention to the 
 charges of responsibility for the real improvements, and the 
 principle of conservatism, which we may introduce into the 
 BiU. 
 
 " I admit that nothing that we can do would make the 
 Bill safe. The country will have to pass through a severe 
 crisis ; but let us meet that crisis on the best grounds that 
 we can, rather than leave all to chance, — or to what we 
 know is as bad as possible." 
 
 The issues of the attempt to take the management of 
 Parliamentary Reform out of the hands of the Government, 
 are well known. Lord Grey did exactly as the Duke had 
 foretold that he would do ; he adjourned Parliament as soon 
 as the Bill was read a second time. Prom Lord AVliarn- 
 cliffe he learned that amendments would be proposed in 
 committee, and after the recess made a move as if to concili- 
 ate the opposition. He proposed that the cases of condemned 
 boroughs should be considered, not collectively, but one by 
 one, whereupon Lord Lyndhurst moved as an amendment, 
 that before the House proceeded to disfranchise any borougli 
 at all, it should determine what and how many new borouglia
 
 1832.] MINISTERS IN A MINORITY. 369 
 
 were to be created. A debate ensued, in wbicb tbe Minis- 
 ters opposed the resolution, and the votes being taken^ they 
 found themselves in a minority of 25. 
 
 A meeting of the Cabinet followed, when it was deter- 
 mined to go no farther with the Bill till the King should 
 have consented to create as many peers as would enable 
 ministers to carry their measure in its integrity. Earl Grrey 
 and Lord Chancellor Brougham were deputed to negotiate 
 with the King, who refused to come in to their terms, and 
 the ministers resigned. It was an event for which the Con- 
 servative peers were not unprepared. The Duke being sent 
 for, assured his Majesty that everything possible would be 
 done to extricate him from his difficulties. He expressed 
 himself willing to go, in the way of change, to the utmost 
 limits of safety, and undertook on his own personal respon- 
 sibility to maintain order in the country. At the same time 
 he advised the King to place a member of the House of 
 Commons at the head of the new Cabinet, and named Mr 
 Peel. Mr Peel, as is well known, declined the charge. 
 Mr Manners Sutton, the Speaker of the House of Commons, 
 was then thought of. But communications from the city 
 and from all parts of the country came in to say, that apart 
 from Mr Peel, there could be no confidence in any Conser- 
 vative member of either House as Pirst Lord of the Trea- 
 sury, except in the Duke himself What could the Duke do ? 
 If he also refused to serve, how was the authority of the 
 Crown to be maintained ? and if at such a crisis, through 
 any backwardness on his part, the Sovereign should fall into 
 the hands of men who seemed to him to have arrived at a 
 settled determination rather to humble the King, and to 
 destroy the House of Lords, than to modify in any degree 
 their pet measure, how should he ever be able again to hold 
 up his head in society ? It was not in the Duke's nature 
 to hesitate. He accepted the charge of forming an Admin- 
 istration, and day and night, for a fortnight together, he 
 laboured to bring the work to a successful issue. 
 
 It was in the House of Commons that the great obstacle 
 to the accomplishment of his purpose lay. As to the 
 excitement out of doors, the Duke treated it with in- 
 
 24
 
 370 THE DUKE STA^^DS ALONE. [1832. 
 
 difference. He held as little formidable both tbe strong lan- 
 guage of tbe press and the threats of the political unions ; and 
 even Lord Milton's refusal to pay taxes, and the advice given 
 to the country at large to follow so bad an example, gave him 
 no serious alarm. Not so the refusal of one after another 
 of the Conservative leaders in the Lower House, to share 
 with him the responsibilities of office. IMr Groulburn and 
 Mr Herries both held back. Mr Wynne doubted the possibil- 
 ity of forming a Conservative Government at all. Sir George 
 Murray and Sir Henry Hardinge were, mdeed, at the Duke's 
 disposal, and Mr Alexander Baring, afterwards Lord Ashbur- 
 ton, gave a reluctant consent to become his Chancellor of the 
 Exchequer. Mr Manners Sutton also, after a good deal of 
 hesitation, agreed to take office. But except in these and 
 a few instances besides, friends and foes seemed alike deter- 
 mined to stand aloof from him. Sir llobert Inglis, for ex- 
 ample, could draw no line of distinction between public and 
 private honour. He was unable, therefore, to see how states- 
 men who had expressed themselves so strongly against re- 
 form, in any shape, could, without a total loss of character, 
 accept office, on the condition of bringing in a Eeform Bill. 
 Meanwhile Lord Ebrington proposed, and carried a vote to 
 the effect, that the House of Commons could not repose 
 confidence in any other than the Administration which had 
 just been removed from office. And to sum up all, Mr 
 Baring himself, after he had agreed to accept the Chancel- 
 lorship of the Exchequer, did not hesitate to say in his place 
 that it would be better for the country that those who had 
 prepared the Reform Bill should carry it into law, and that 
 whatever he might do in opj)Osition to this course, he would 
 do reluctantly. 
 
 I have alluded to the state of feeling out of doors. 
 Nervous persons watched it with deep alarm ; for mobs are 
 always noisy, and when the functions of Government are 
 suspended, they are, up to a certain point, dangerous. The 
 Duke was not influenced by it for one moment ; yet he re- 
 ceived at this time some curious letters, of which the follow- 
 ing is a specimen : —
 
 1832.] LAYS DOWN HIS COMMISSION. 371 
 
 " Birmingham, 13tli May, 1832. 
 " My Lord, 
 
 "• I have the honour to inform your lordship, that as 
 soon as the rumour arrived in this town of your lord- 
 ship's appointment to be the Prime Minister of William 
 IV., five hundi'ed of us simultaneously bound ourselves 
 by a solemn engagement that we would prevent such an 
 event ; and that, if not preventing it, your continuance in 
 office should be of short duration, and we have no doubt but 
 our endeavours shall be crowned with success. — We have 
 the honour to be your lordship's humble advisers, by order 
 of the meeting, 
 
 " John "Wm Thompson." 
 
 To the same purport, though in a different spirit, a Mr 
 Anderton wrote, on the 14th, to say that the cry in Bir- 
 mingham was for a £10 franchise ; and that, coerced by a 
 large meeting which had taken place on the previous day, 
 many respectable people had enrolled their names as mem- 
 bers of the political union, while others were petitioning 
 for the passing of the ministerial Bill, though their own 
 convictions and wishes were against it. 
 
 The Government had been in abeyance long enough, 
 when, on the 15th of May, the Duke waited on the King, 
 and informed his Majesty of what had passed in the House 
 of Commons on the previous evening. He represented at 
 the same time that he no longer entertained the hope of 
 being able to form such an Administration as could lead the 
 House of Commons, or be able to conciliate public confi- 
 dence. He therefore advised his Majesty to recall his 
 former ministers ; and when his Majesty, of his own accord, 
 proposed to write to Earl G-rey, and to prevail upon him, if 
 he could, to forego the desire for an extension of the peer- 
 age, and to introduce such amendments into his Bill as 
 might satisfy the more moderate of its opponents, the Duke 
 ofl'ered no objection to the arrangement. He was not, 
 however, so sanguine as to anticipate any very favourable 
 issue to the endeavour ; and he was right. Lord Grey an- 
 swered the King's letter immediately. He assiired his 
 
 24 *
 
 372 SAVES THE HOUSE OF LORDS. [1832. 
 
 Sovereign tliat lie would do ^Yllat lie could, though it would 
 be impossible, after recent events, to deviate from any lead- 
 ing principle of the measure. A few alterations in details 
 might be admitted, but beyond that the Government could 
 not go. As to the King's request that the demand for new 
 peers should not be repeated, his lordship took no notice of 
 it. The King was in his hands, and in the hands of the 
 House of Commons, and of the political unions ; and his 
 Majesty was made to feel that he must do whatever might 
 be desired of him. 
 
 There was but one line of action now open to the Duke, 
 and he did not hesitate to enter upon it. The House of 
 Lords must at every hazard be saved, by taking away from 
 the minister the remotest pretext for swamping it with a 
 large creation of new peers. At the intervie^v which led to 
 the re-opening of communications between the King and 
 Earl Grrey, the Duke assured his Majesty that he would 
 offer no further opposition to the progress of the Bill ; in- 
 deed, that he would cease to attend in his place in Parlia- 
 ment till after it should have passed into law. A like 
 pledge was given by Lord Lyndhurst, and his Majesty 
 breathed more freely. But all the Duke's difficulties were 
 not yet over. Peer after peer asked to be informed as to 
 the covirse which he wished them to follow, while many be- 
 sought him to join with them in remonstrating against the 
 threatened creation of new peerages. To the latter pro- 
 posal he replied, as he had replied before, that he could 
 be no party to a resolution of the House which, besides 
 amounting to an attack upon the prerogative, would pro- 
 bably bring on the very evil which it was intended to avert. 
 To the former he stated, without reserve, his own inten- 
 tions, assigning his reasons, but carefully avoiding to advise 
 his friends. Meanwhile, a few of the more excitable of the 
 party expressed strong disapprobation of all that had been 
 done. After defeating the Whigs, he ought, according to 
 their view of the case, to have risked all, even the dangers 
 of a dissolution, rather than suffer the reins of Grovernmeut 
 to pass again into the enemy's hands. Even with such cor- 
 respondents the Duke kept his temper, being satisfied to
 
 1832.] HIS LETTEE. 373 
 
 demonstrate to them tlie utter helplessness of their schemes, 
 and the impossibility, without great danger to the public 
 peace, of maintaining the state of suspense one day longer 
 than he had done. 
 
 On the other hand there were, among his friends, several 
 who, adhering to the opinion that the battle had been lost 
 at the second reading, wrote to congratulate him on having 
 escaped from the situation of peril and difficulty into which 
 his chivalrous sense of duty to the Crown had thrown him. 
 One specimen of the manner in which he replied to these 
 communications I subjoin, because it places in a clear light 
 the motives which guided the Duke in his management of 
 those delicate aifairs, and the view which he took of the in- 
 evitable consequences of his failure. 
 
 " London, 21st May, 1832. 
 
 " My dear , 
 
 " I have received your note of yesterday, for which I 
 return my best thanks. 
 
 " I think that the mistake made by my friends is this. 
 First, in not estimating the extent of the advantage of tak- 
 ing the thing out of the hands of the Radicals, — that is, in 
 reality, of giving the country the benefit of some Govern- 
 ment. Secondly, in not estimating the farther advantage 
 of diminishing the mischief of the Eeform Bill ; and parti- 
 cularly that of the Scotch Bill. 
 
 " In my opinion the advantage first mentioned more 
 than compensates for all that would have been lost by our 
 having anything to say to the Reform Bill. 
 
 " We shall have the Bill in its worst form. In the mean 
 time we have no Government. God knows whether this 
 country can have one again without jDassing through a crisis 
 in its affairs. 
 
 " One advantage, however, has resulted from the trans- 
 actions of the last week. The country perceives that the 
 King is against what is doing." 
 
 I need not pursue further the progress of affairs, which 
 have long since become matters of history. After a brief
 
 ??4 THE DUKE MOBBED. [1832. 
 
 adjournment, to afford time for the reconstruction of tte 
 Cabinet, Parliament again met, and on the 17th of May the 
 Duke and Lord Lyndhurst entered into a full explanation 
 of their conduct during the late recess. This done, they 
 quitted the House, and a considerable body of peers follow- 
 ing their example, the arena was left clear to the ministers. 
 They took up the Bill at the point where it had been 
 dropped, and carried it, clause by clause, through commit- 
 tee. In due course, after being read for the third time, it 
 received the assent of the Crown, and became law. 
 
 The mob had gained their end, and the joy of its members 
 was, or seemed to be, as unbounded as their anxiety had of 
 late been painful. But there was no admixture of gener- 
 osity in it. Not satisfied with having triumphed over the 
 opposition of the great Duke, they followed him with the 
 most rancorous personal hatred, and escaped the everlasting 
 disgrace of dipping their hands in his blood only by a sort 
 of miracle. He took occasion on the 18th of June to visit 
 the Mint, which he did on horseback, attended by a single 
 groom. Some ill-disposed persons recognized him as he 
 was returning, on Tower Hill, and he was instantly sur- 
 rounded by a crowd, which grew more dense and more fu- 
 rious as he proceeded westward. The Duke's countenance un- 
 derwent no change. He never put his horse out of a walk, 
 and the groom rode after him as calm and self-possessed as 
 his master. It was in vain that the city police, attracted 
 by the throng, and by the yells and cries which proceeded 
 from it, endeavoured to gather round him ; they were 
 pushed aside, and one fellow, seizing the bridle of the 
 Duke's horse, endeavoured to dismount him. But the 
 groom, riding up, forced the man back, and a gentleman 
 who was driving a phaeton, placed the carriage with great 
 presence of mind close to the tail of the Duke's horse, and 
 so broke the violence of the pressure from behind. Other 
 well-dressed persons likewise came to the assistance of the 
 police, and he was saved from personal outrage. At last 
 they reached the end of Chancery Lane, up which the Duke 
 turned, the crowd still following. He proceeded to Lin- 
 coln's Inn, to the chambers of the Solicitor to the Treasury,
 
 1832.] LORD ST LEONARD'S LETTER, 375 
 
 witli whom he had business ; and where he had appointed 
 the Earl of St Grermans, Lord Granville Somerset, and 
 Lord Francis Conyngham to meet him. But my readers 
 would sjcarcely thank me were I to describe what fol- 
 lowed in other words than those of an actor in the scene. 
 The following is Lord St Leonard's version of this remark- 
 able story, kindly sent in reply to a communication from 
 myself. 
 
 " On the 18th of June our Equity Courts were not 
 sitting. I was, therefore, in chambers ; and as I sat work- 
 ing near the window on the groimd-floor, I was startled by 
 three horsemen passing towards Stone Buildings, with a 
 mob at their heels, shouting, hooting, and hissing. I sent 
 my clerk to see what was the matter, and upon his return, 
 finding that the Duke of Wellington was the object of dis- 
 pleasure, I sent the clerk, with some others, round to the 
 men's chambers, to beg them to corne at once to protect 
 the Duke. I found that the Duke, with Lord Grranville 
 Somerset and Lord Eliot (the present Earl of St Germans), 
 had been to the Tower on official business, and were then 
 at the chambers in Stone Buildings of Mr Maule, the 
 Solicitor to the Treasury, with whom the Duke had an 
 appointment. In making my way to Mr Maule's, 1 found 
 a considerable mob in Stone Buildings and its approaches, 
 and their conduct was most violent. When I joined the 
 Duke, we considered what was the best mode of protecting 
 him and his companions. He would not listen to any mode 
 of retreat by which he might avoid the mob. I assured him 
 that the Lincoln's Inn men would effectually prevent any 
 violence, and he determined to get on horseback again, and 
 to ride through the streets. I then went down-stairs, and 
 ordered the small gate, leading to Portugal Street, to be 
 shut and guarded, so as to prevent the people from getting 
 round that way to interrupt us when we went through the 
 great gates into Carey Street ; and I ordered those gates to 
 be shut as soon as the Duke should have passed. I ad- 
 dressed a few words to the gentlemen, who had assembled in 
 considerable numbers, and requested them to occupy the
 
 376 THE DUKE GUAEDED HOME. [1832. 
 
 stone steps wliicli tlie Duke would have to descend, in order 
 to reach his horse. This they did with great heartiness, 
 and they exhibited, I may say, a fierce determination to 
 defend the Duke against all comers. A butcher was bawling 
 lustily against the Duke, when a young gentleman, a 
 solicitor, seized him by the collar with one hand and knocked 
 him down with the other, and the mob seemed rather 
 amused at it. The Duke, upon my return up-stairs, asked 
 how he was to find his way out of the Inn. I told him 
 that I would walk before him. He would allow no one to 
 hold or to touch his horse whilst he mounted. He was pale, 
 with a severe countenance, and immovable on his saddle, 
 and looked sti'aight before him, and so continued whilst I 
 was with him. Lords Granville Somerset and Eliot rode 
 on each side of him, and of course his groom behind. I 
 walked in front, and shortly a brother barrister came up and 
 asked me if he might walk with me. I gladly accepted his 
 arm, and we moved on, the mob all the time being in a state 
 of fury. When we reached Lincoln's Lm Fields a police- 
 man made his apj)earance, and drawing his statf prepared 
 for an onslaught. I called to him, and told him that the 
 Duke's progress was under my direction, and that I desired 
 he would put up his truncheon and keep himself quiet until 
 I called upon him to act, and that he would communicate 
 this order to the other policemen as they came up. This 
 kept them perfectly quiet. As we proceeded, the noise of 
 the mob attracted the workmen in the shops and manufac- 
 tories, particularly in Long Acre, where the upper windows 
 were quickly opened by workmen who, with their paper 
 caps, rushed to join the people ; but nowhere was any per- 
 sonal violence ofi"ered to the Duke, and the respectable 
 portions of the crowd would promptly have crushed any 
 attempt at violence. I had walked from the AVest End to 
 my chambers that morning, and I recollected that there was 
 an excavation at the west end of Long Acre, and a large 
 mass of paving and other stones collected there. I ordered 
 several of the police to go there in advance quietly and 
 occupy the ground, so as to prevent any one from making 
 use of the stones. This they did j but, scandalous as the
 
 1832.] THE DUKE'S DINNER. 377 
 
 conduct of tlie mob was, I must do them tte justice to say 
 that they showed no disposition to get at the stones. "WTien 
 we reached the West End streets the people tailed off a 
 good deal. As the Duke passed the United Service Club 
 he maintained his rigid posture, and cast no glance that 
 way, whilst a few men, who had rushed out of the Club 
 upon hearing the noise, looked on with wonder. Nothing 
 more occurred ; and when we got opposite to the clock of 
 St James's Palace I, for the first time, turned round, and 
 there being only a few stragglers left, the Duke and his 
 companions shook hands with me, and thanked me, and 
 putting their horses into a trot, reached Apsley House with- 
 out further annoyance. On that day the gentlemen of 
 Lincoln's Inn did their duty. The Duke received addresses 
 from the inhabitants of the parishes whose lower orders 
 had disgraced themselves. The deputations included men 
 of the highest consideration. He afterwards gave a dinner 
 to the deputations, at which I was a guest. Harry Baring, 
 who was one of the guests, told me that he had dined with 
 most of the princes of Europe, but that he had never seen 
 such a magnificent display as at this dinner. When vve 
 consider the man and the day, the scene in the streets 
 must have been most painful to the Duke ; yet he never once 
 recurred to it in any communication which I had with him. 
 The scene is vividly before me. It is singular that I should 
 be asked, at the end of twenty-eight years, to describe it. 
 I have to trust wholly to memory, as I never before wrote 
 down any incident of this painful day."
 
 378 
 
 CHAPTEE XXXVIII. 
 
 THE DUKE AFTER THE REFORM BILL HIS GREAT INFLUENCE 
 
 IN THE HOUSE OP LORDS LORD MELBOURNE MINISTER 
 
 HIS DISMISSAL SIR ROBERT PEEL'S GOVERNMENT THE 
 
 DUKE CHANCELLOR OF THE UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD. 
 
 The opinion wliicli the Duke had so often expressed in 
 regard to tlie consequences of the ministerial measure while 
 it Avas yet in progress, underwent no change after the Re- 
 form Bill became law. He believed, and among his intimate 
 friends never hesitated to say, that the foundations of Eng- 
 land's greatness Avere sapped. There was, indeed, a moment 
 when this conviction took such fast hold of him, that he 
 thought seriously of withdrawing for ever from public life ; 
 and spoke, half in joke half in earnest, of making a pro- 
 vision against the evils to come, by investing a portion of 
 his property in foreign securities. But the Duke was too 
 much of a patriot to abandon the path of duty because of 
 the increased difficulties with which he believed it to be 
 beset. " The biU is now the law of the land," he used to 
 say, " and as good citizens and loyal subjects we must con- 
 form ourselves to it. It has effected the greatest revolution 
 that ever occurred without bloodshed in any country ; and 
 we, or those who come after us, will be taught that fact, 
 sooner or later. But in the mean while, it is our duty to 
 keep the crisis as long as we can at a distance, and to 
 render the fall of our great institutions so gradual, that it 
 shall do as little damage as possible, both to individuals and 
 to the community." Accordingly, he set himself at once
 
 1833.] HE CONSOLIDATES A PARTY. 379 
 
 to collect aud consolidate a party, wMcli should act to- 
 getlier, not for the purjjose of wresting office from those 
 who held it, but with a view to keep the powers of Go- 
 vernment, as far as might be, in the King's hands, and 
 to hinder the King's ministers from being driven too 
 rapidly along the declivity on which they appeared to have 
 placed themselves. And this, in the House of Lords, he 
 found to be, comparatively speaking, an easy task. His un- 
 swerving adherence to principle, during the late struggle ; 
 the temper and moderation which he exhibited on all oc- 
 casions ; his indefatigable industry, and the patience with 
 which he bore with the whims and crotchets of men less 
 wise than himself; had earned for him an amount of defer- 
 ence and respect, such as was probably never before yield- 
 ed by the peers of England to any individual belonging to 
 their order. He became, so to speak, master of the Upper 
 House of Parliament. Perhaps no member of that august 
 body ever had so many proxies entrusted to him ; none cer- 
 tainly ever spoke with more authority, from his place. 
 Not that the Duke either was, or pretended to be, an 
 orator. His speaking, on the contrary, was, to the last, 
 laboured, his articulation indistinct ; but somehow or other 
 he contrived always to say the right thing at the right 
 moment, and to clothe his sentiments in language which, if 
 not artistically eloquent or even correct, was invariably 
 forcible. The storm of unpopularity also which broke upon 
 him during the Reform struggle, passed away. In 1832 
 he was insulted in the streets, and had the windows of his 
 house broken. His very life was threatened in the manner 
 described in the last chapter, and when he went on a cer- 
 tain occasion to preside at a Pitt dinner in the Freemasons' 
 Tavern, he was obliged to drive thither armed with loaded 
 pistols, in a carriage of which the doors were fastened by a 
 spring. In 1833 individuals began again to salute him re- 
 spectfully as he passed, and here and there the old cry was 
 raised, " There he goes, God bless him ! " With all his ap- 
 parent indifference to such matters, with all his real eon- 
 tempt for the sort of popularity to obtain which men stoop 
 to do mean and mischievous thinss, the Duke was touched
 
 3S0 GROWS rOPULAE AGAIN. [1834. 
 
 by this evidence of the place which he had established for 
 himself in the affections of the English people. " I'm get- 
 ting up in the market," he observed, with a cheerful laugh, 
 one day, as he dismounted from his horse after a run with 
 the fox-hounds at Strathfieldsaye. " What has happened ; 
 did the people cheer you ? " " No, not that, but they did 
 what was much better ; every man in the field seemed 
 anxious to be kind to me, by making way for me, and open- 
 ing gates, and that sort of thing." The Duke was right. 
 He rose in the market so rapidly, that before twelve months 
 were over, all, except the men who had most deeply slan- 
 dered and done him wrong, seemed to have forgotten that 
 he ever opposed himself to their wishes. And of all the 
 speeches delivered by him in the House of Lords, none was 
 so frequently quoted with approval as that in which he 
 declared, that had he refused to go to the King's assistance 
 when the resignation of his "WTiig ministers left his Ma- 
 jesty surrounded by difficulties, " he would have been 
 ashamed to show his face in the streets." 
 
 I have alluded elsewhere to the mortification of some of 
 the Duke's admirers when they beheld him stoop from the 
 eminence on which he stood at the close of the war, to 
 become, as they expressed it, a party politician. If the 
 results of his labours in that capacity seemed to justify 
 their prognostications of evil, it is im])ossible to deny that 
 he more than atoned for the mistake, if a mistake it was, 
 by subsequent years of the wisest and most disinterested 
 statesmanship. JN^ever throughout his long and busy life 
 did the Duke of "Wellington render more important service 
 to his country than during that protracted season of trouble, 
 anxiety, and danger which followed the passing of the Re- 
 form Bill. Had he been less wise, less temperate, less far- 
 treeing, less patriotic, nothing could have averted from 
 England the horrors of a revolution — for the exasperation 
 of parties was then more bitter than the present genera- 
 tion can easily understand, while the position of the King's 
 ministers, in reference to the Sovereign on the one hand, 
 and to their own supporters on the other, abounded with 
 difficulties. Men called each other by hard names in those
 
 1834.] STATE OF PARTIES AND FEELIXG. 3S1 
 
 days, and liere and there believed what they said. No 
 sane person now suspects, either that the Duke of Wel- 
 lington harboured designs against the liberties of the peo- 
 ple, or that Earl Grey or Lord John EusseU were hostile to 
 the monarchy. But Earl Grrey and his colleagues were un- 
 doubtedly, through the force of circumstances, dependent 
 for support not a little upon politicians to whom the 
 Church, the House of Lords, and perhaps the throne, were 
 objects of small reA^erence. And for this perhaps, among 
 other reasons, the King made no concealment of his dislike 
 both to his ministers and their policy. Now such a condi- 
 tion of aiiairs offered the strongest inducement to a harass- 
 ing guerilla warfare on the part of the opposition, of which 
 the effects, had they received any encouragement from high 
 quarters, must have been fatal. 
 
 The opposition, weak in the Commons, but from wealth, 
 intelligence, and station, powerfid in the country, fretted 
 under the state to which they were reduced, and burned to 
 escape from it. Eager to fight on every possible occasion, 
 and confident of victory in the House of Lords, they charged 
 their leaders with lack of courage or good faith, or both, 
 because they restrained instead of exciting so rash a spirit. 
 The Government, on the other hand, often put to their 
 shifts by pressure from without, brought forward measures 
 of which they themselves scarcely approved ; and some- 
 times, as has been admitted, would have thankfully accepted 
 defeats from which the Duke saved them. His great ob- 
 ject in all this was to gain time for the re-establishment 
 throughout the country of that respect for law and the 
 legislature which recent events had shaken. In the House 
 of Commons ministers were, or seemed to be, all powerful. 
 The Duke was constantly on his guard to prevent a colli- 
 sion between the Lords and the Commons, out of which, 
 as he well knew, the Lords, in the existing state of public 
 feeling, could never come victorious. In like manner he 
 set his face against the formation in the provinces of so- 
 cieties of which lie approved the objects. He was anxious 
 to allay, not to irritate, party feelings which were then rife, 
 arguing that associations for political purposes, other than
 
 382 HIS CONTROL OVER OTHERS. [1834. 
 
 the Houses of Lords and Commons, were not only uncon- 
 stitutional, but unsafe. These were high ends, worthy of 
 the great man who sought them ; and the means by which 
 he laboured to bring them about, were as wise as the ends 
 themselves. Nobody ever came to the Duke for advice 
 and went away without it. By letters, in personal inter- 
 views, now directly, at other times through the medium of 
 a third party, he laboured to impress his own views of 
 things upon others, and he succeeded to an extent which is 
 without- a parallel in the history of the human mind. 
 Hence many a debate took place, in which the argument on 
 the opposition side prevailed, or was assumed to prevail, yet 
 no division followed hostile to the minister. The Duke would 
 enter a protest in the Journals of the House, which other 
 Conservative peers signed with him, and the measure, what- 
 ever it might be, became law, through the will of a minority. 
 It is not worth while to particularize all the occasions 
 on which the Duke exercised this control over himself and 
 others. It was thus that the Irish Reform Bill passed the 
 House of Lords ; that the interference of the Grovernment in 
 the quarrel between Belgium and Holland was not averted ; 
 that in the civil war which broke out in Portugal, England 
 was allowed to take part ; and that the quadruple alliance in 
 favour of the Queen of Spain, though censured, was not 
 prevented. To this latter arrangement and the inconveni- 
 ences arising out of it, the Duke never referred in private 
 except with indignation ; and of his opinion of King Ferdi- 
 dinand he made no secret. " I can conceive nothing more 
 wicked," he used to say, " than the conduct of that man. 
 He misgoverned his country as long as he lived, and at his 
 death bequeathed to it a legacy of civil war ; and we for- 
 sooth, because Ferdinand's executors call themselves Liberals, 
 must help them to carry his bad purposes into effect. I 
 dare say it is great weakness on my part to retain my in- 
 terest in nations which, God knows, never behaved too well 
 to me ; but it makes my heart bleed to see Spain and Por- 
 tugal given over to anarchy, when a little firmness and 
 moderation on the pai-t of the English Grovernment might 
 have prevented it."
 
 1834.] MINISTERS DISMISSED. 383 
 
 Tlie Duke's policy of forbearance gradually made itself 
 felt. The country settled down into a state of comparative 
 quiet everywhere, except in Ireland, and there Daniel O'Con- 
 nell was supreme. He had been infinitely useful to the 
 G-overnment in helping them to carry their great measure, 
 and they found it impossible now either to throw him over 
 or to satisfy his further demands. His support thus be- 
 came a source of weakness to Eai'l Grrey, and to Lord 
 Grrey's successor at the Treasury. Hence, perhaps as much 
 as for any other reason, the ministerial majorities in the 
 House of Commons fell off, and the Lords began again to 
 exercise their rights, though with extreme caution. I hap- 
 jDen to know that already, in 1834, the Duke counted on a 
 speedy return of the Conservatives to office. It is further 
 within my knowledge that he was averse to Sir Robert 
 Peel's journey, at that time, into Italy, and that he spoke of 
 it afterwards with a slight tone of bitterness. Sir Robert, 
 however, took his departure, scarcely disguising the fact, 
 that he wished to be out of the way lest a crisis should 
 come. But the crisis came nevertheless. The death of 
 Earl Spencer, and the removal of Lord Althorpe to the 
 House of Lords, furnished the King with an opportunity 
 for which he had long watched, and on the l-lth of Novem- 
 ber the Duke received a summons to attend his Majesty* 
 at Brighton. 
 
 The story of that remarkable interlude in the history of 
 England is well known. The Duke declined, himself, to 
 form an Administration, but undertook, with the assistance 
 of Lord Lyndhurst, to keep the machine going till Sir 
 Eobert Peel should return. He was as good as his word. 
 Sworn-in Secretary of State for the Home Department, he 
 assumed the charge, not of that office only, but of all the 
 public offices in London, and it is well known that at no 
 period, either before or since, was the business of the coun- 
 try more regularly or carefully transacted. 
 
 The impression made upon the minds of men in general 
 by these proceedings, no language can describe. They were 
 astonished, confounded, and not a little amused. All won- 
 dered at his boldness, and not a few who began by denouncing
 
 384 THE DUKE SOLE MINISTER. [1835. 
 
 the act as unconstitutional, perliaps treasonable, ended by 
 expressing tbeir admiration of the man. But the inter- 
 lude came to a close ; Sir Robert Peel returned from Rome. 
 He found every office in and out of the Cabinet at his 
 disposal. He formed his Administration, placing the Duke at 
 the Foreign Office, and continuing to Lord Lyndhurst the 
 possession of the great seal. And after issuing his famous 
 manifesto to the electors of Tamworth, he dissolved the 
 Parliament. This last step, it is but just to say, was not of 
 his seeking ; he would have greatly preferred meeting Par- 
 liament as it was, with the power to dissolve in case of need, 
 and doubtless he was right. But the Duke, and those 
 with whom he took counsel in Sir Robert's absence, thought 
 otherwise. The consequence was that, under the influence 
 of old prejudices, the country returned a House of Commons 
 which the minister could not command, and on every im- 
 portant question as it arose he was defeated. After origin- 
 ating some wise measures, with which he was not permit- 
 ted to go through, he found himself face to face on the 30th 
 of March, .1835, with Lord John Russell's famous motion. 
 And on the 7th of April, at 4 o'clock in the morning, he 
 was left in a minority of 33. 
 
 There followed next evening the resignation of the first 
 ■ Peel Cabinet, and the return of Lord Slelbourne and his 
 friends to Downing Street. Never again, to the day of his 
 death, was the Duke of Wellington in charge of a distinct 
 department of the State. A politician he continued to be, 
 — it was impossible that he should cease to be a politician, 
 but his line was henceforth that rather of a guide and coun- 
 sellor to the nation at large, than of the busy leader of a 
 party struggling for power. There never occurred a diffi- 
 culty at home or abroad, on which he was not consulted by 
 the minister of the day, whosoever he might be. The Crown 
 was never in a strait because of the mistakes of its servants, 
 or through disagreements, personal or otherwise, of the Ca- 
 binet, that he was not sent for to advise in the case. The 
 Crown and the people appeared alike to have confidence in 
 his judgment, and he became more than ever an object of 
 veneration to all classes of society.
 
 1834.] AECHBISHOP WHATELET. 385 
 
 One of the first and most remarkable proofs of the uni- 
 versal respect in which he was held, was evinced about this 
 time by his elevation to the dignity of Chancellor of the 
 University of Oxford. On the 12th of January, 1834, Lord 
 Grrenville died ; and, contrary to all precedent, a proposal 
 was made in the Senate to oflTer to the Duke .of Wellington 
 the vacant Chancellorship. The Duke had no claim to this 
 distinction on the ground of scholarship, or even of patron- 
 age extended to scholars. He was totally unconnected with 
 the university itself, except so far as that, simultaneously 
 with Marshal Bliicher, and the late Sovereigns of Austria, 
 Prussia, and Eussia, he had received from it in 1814 the 
 honorary degree of Doctor of Laws. But the heads of 
 houses believed that they had fallen upon perilous times; 
 and that the university stood more in need of a chancellor 
 who should be able, as a statesman, to defend its privileges, 
 than of one who, by his writings or otherwise, might add 
 to its renown as a nursery of learning. As was to be ex- 
 pected, the leaders of the party opposed to the Duke, 
 endeavoured to throw ridicule upon the whole proceeding. 
 Among others, a distinguished but eccentric prelate, the 
 late Archbishop Whateley, of Dublin, is said to have waited 
 officially upon the Lord-lieutenant, and begged that he 
 might be appointed to a troop of dragoons. When asked 
 to give a reason for so curious a request, he replied : " Tour 
 Excellency must know that I have as good a right to be 
 made a captain of cavalry, as the Duke of Wellington, your 
 brother, to become Chancellor of the University of Ox- 
 ford." Oxford, however, had made up her mind what to 
 do, and went gallantly through with her purpose. The 
 installation, which took place on the 9th of June, 1834, was 
 one of the most brilliant affairs that had ever been witnessed ; 
 and the enthusiasm of the under-graduates, seldom under 
 much control, proved quite overwhelming. " I perfectly 
 understand now," observed the Duke, when he met his 
 friends later in the autumn at Walmer, " how revolutions 
 are got up in such places as the Ecole Militaire in Paris, 
 and in Warsaw." " The under-graduates were very boister- 
 ous, were they ? " "Boisterous! Tou never saw anything 
 
 25
 
 386 THE DUKE'S INNER LIFE. 
 
 like it in your life ! Let these boys loose iu the state in 
 which I saw them, and give them a political object to carry, 
 and they would revolutionize any nation under the sun." 
 
 It is not to be supposed that the Duke, successful as he 
 was in great affairs, passed through life without his own 
 share of private and domestic trials. Perhaps the very 
 turn of his mind, and the constant dedication of his ener- 
 gies to the public service, in some degree unfitted him for 
 the enjoyment of domestic life. Perhaps, as often happens 
 where blame is scarcely attributable to either party, he was 
 ill-matched in his domestic relations. Be this as it may, it 
 would be idle to conceal the fact, that the Duke's home, 
 properly so called, was never a sunny one. It is certain that 
 his confidence was much more largely given out of the do- 
 mestic circle than within it ; and for this reason, even when 
 not abused, it scarcely filled up the measure of his aspir- 
 ations. In moments of despondency, of which the crowd saw 
 nothing, he has been heard to say, " There is nothiug in this 
 world worth living for." Yet no man felt more acutely than 
 he the pang of severance from those to whom any share of 
 his alFections was given. Prom his mother he had expe- 
 rienced in youth and early manhood little else than neglect. 
 As he grew into fame, pride with her expanded into affec- 
 tion ; and when she died at the advanced age of ninety-six, 
 he mourned for her with sincere sorrow. So also the death 
 of the Duchess, on the 22nd of April, 1831, touched him 
 keenly. They had seen comparatively little of each other 
 for years. There was no natural congeniality between them 
 in tastes, habits, or pursuits ; and unfortunately for both, the 
 Duchess, while she doted on her husband, never appears to 
 have thought it necessary to adapt her own views of things 
 to his. Hence alienation stole in, which there were no 
 opportunities of living down, though it never resulted in a 
 formal separation. But during her last illness, he was inde- 
 fatigable in his attentions to her ; and when she ceased to 
 breathe, he evinced great emotion. She was buried at Strath- 
 fieldsaye, the Duke following her to the grave, and showing 
 every mark of respect to her memory.
 
 387 
 
 CHAPTEE XXXIX. 
 
 DEATH OF WILLIAM IV. ACCESSION OF QUEEN VICTORIA THE 
 
 DUKE IN AND OUT OF PARLIAMENT THE DUKE'S GREAT 
 
 AFFECTION FOR HER MAJESTY HIS PROCEEDINGS AS COM- 
 MANDER-IN-CHIEF. 
 
 On the 20th of June, 1837, died William IV., leaving 
 the vacant throne to be filled by her present most gracious 
 Majesty ; then barely of age to exercise the functions of 
 royalty. No change was thereby eftected, either in the state 
 of political parties in Parliament, or in the position of the 
 Duke of Wellington in connection with them. Her Majesty 
 retained in office the minister whom she found at the head 
 of affairs, and the Duke took his seat, as heretofore, on the 
 opposition benches in the House of Lords. But the same 
 wise discretion which had characterized his proceedings since 
 the passing of the Reform Bill characterized them still. 
 He supported every measure, no matter by whom proposed, 
 which he believed to be deserving of support. He resisted 
 every proposition, the tendency of which he believed to be 
 mischievous. He would be no party to a factious move, 
 however sure the prospect of success ; and he restrained 
 his own friends, over and over again, from pushing fair — 
 though perhaps unseasonable — contests to an extremity. 
 The honour of the Crown, the safety and weU-being of the 
 country, were the sole objects which he appeared to keep in 
 view ; and perhaps his prudent reserve exercised as great 
 an influence in securing them, as the wisdom of the Cabinet 
 
 23 *
 
 388 HIS PUBLIC DUTIES. [1837. 
 
 on the one liand, and the zeal and activity in criticizing 
 its policy among opposition statesmen on the other. 
 
 The Duke's public duties, apart from those of a peer of 
 Parliament, were at this time such as devolved upon him 
 from his connection with Hampshire, as Lord-lieutenant of 
 the county ; with the Cinque Ports, as Lord Warden ; with 
 the Tower of London, as Constable ; and with the Univer- 
 sity of Oxford, as its Chancellor. Of the University of 
 Oxford his care was sleepless, without being troublesome. 
 It was a season of difficulty, if not of danger, for the 
 demand for change was incessant ; and this, so far as it 
 appeared to him unjust or unreasonable, he resisted. It is 
 proper to add, that he seldom acted on such occasions with- 
 out previous consultation with those whose knowledge of 
 the subject could not fail to be more extensive than his 
 own, and that before making up his mind to any course of 
 proceeding, he heard, and carefully considered, everything 
 that could be said, as well against as for it. Hence, after 
 checking repeated attempts to innovate upon the rights 
 both of the University and of particular colleges, he 
 assented to that commission of inquiry, from the report 
 of which have emanated changes acceptable to all ; to 
 some, because they were not undertaken on compulsion, to 
 others, because in themselves they are changes for the 
 better. 
 
 Of the Duke's attention to the business of the Cinque 
 Ports, it is impossible to speak too highly. No court of 
 Lode-manage was ever held during his periodical visits to 
 "Walmer without his presiding over its deliberations ; and 
 often, if the occasion seemed to require, he would travel 
 from London, and even from Strathfieldsaye, to Dover, on 
 purpose to take part in them. Por it was one of his maxims, 
 that whatever charge a man undertakes, he is bound, 
 whether the business in hand relate to great or small 
 matters, to treat it as if it were important. And in his 
 estimation few matters could be more important than 
 to provide competent pilots for the navigation of the 
 Channel, and to maintain among them when appointed sti'ict 
 discipline. He was, as is AveU known, the last of those
 
 1837.] CONSTABLE OF THE TOWER. 389 
 
 functionaries permitted to exercise powers whieli took their 
 rise in times gone by, when Sandwich was an important 
 naval station, and the defence of the coast, from the North 
 Foreland to Hastings, depended mainly upon the inhabitants 
 of the towns which lie between them. But it cannot be 
 said in this, as in most other cases of the kind, that an 
 institution once vigorous expired at last of its own innate 
 corruption. The pilotage of the Channel was never so 
 carefully attended to as just before the right of super- 
 intendence and selection passed from the Lord "Warden for 
 ever. 
 
 The same reforming hand which eifected so much at Dover 
 and along the Kentish coast, was felt in the Tower also. 
 Hitherto the Constables of that fortress had been in the 
 habit of selling warder's places, whilst offices superior to 
 that of warder were dispensed, worthily or not, under the 
 pressure of political or private influence. The Duke put an 
 end to all this. "Warderships imder him became prizes to 
 which meritorious non-commissioned officers might aspire ; 
 and higher posts were given to gentlemen who had done 
 good service as commissioned officers in the field. One of 
 the most deserving of these was the late Colonel Grurwood, 
 a distinguished veteran of the Peninsula and of Waterloo, 
 to whom the world is indebted for the greatest military 
 work which has appeared in any age or in any country. His 
 compilation of the Wellington Despatches was begun in 
 1835, when he himself held a stafi'-appointment at Ports- 
 mouth. It arose out of a previous publication — a collected 
 edition of the Duke's General Orders. In the progress of 
 both works the Duke took a very lively interest, himself 
 reading the proof-sheets, and striking out with his own hand 
 every sentence, and indeed every word which was likely to 
 give unnecessary pain to individuals. It was due to the 
 editor of such works that the country should mark its sense 
 of the services which he had rendered to posterity, and the 
 Duke, as representing the country, bestowed upon him, 
 when it fell vacant, the lieutenancy of the Tower, which, 
 with the honorary dignity of squire to his patron, Grurwood 
 held to the day of his death.
 
 390 HIS EELATIONS WITH THE QUEEN. [1838 
 
 Equally assiduous in his habits as Lord-lieutenant of 
 Hampshire, the Duke neglected no application that "was 
 made to him ; and received at Strathfieldsaye everybody 
 who came to him on public business. He made a point, 
 likewise, of dismissing all other demands upon his time that 
 he might be at home to receive and entertain the Judges 
 when they arrived in the county on circuit. At the bottom 
 of this practice, as of many others to which the Duke Avas 
 addicted, lay that which seems to have been the grand prin- 
 ciple of his life. The Judges represented the Sovereign ; 
 and no claim of society, no call even of duty, was strong 
 enough to hinder him from paying to them the same mai'ks 
 of respect which his loyalty would have induced him to pay 
 to the Sovereign, had she been personally present. 
 
 Of the relations in which he stood towards the royal lady 
 who now happily fills the throne of these realms, it is 
 scarcely necessary to speak. They were of the most inti- 
 mate and even affectionate nature. By every possible 
 token of public esteem and private confidence her Majesty's 
 regard for her great subject was shown ; while the Duke's 
 loyalty to the Sovereign was, in her Majesty's case, mixed 
 up with such feelings as animate an aged and experienced 
 parent towards a child whom he not only loves but respects. 
 He remained, moreover, under every change of circum- 
 stances, on the best terms, personally, with her constitutional 
 advisers. The consequence was that Lord Melbourne, ajjpre- 
 ciating aright the perfect integrity of his character, expressed 
 neither jealousy nor surprise when his royal mistress desii*ed 
 from time to time to have the benefit of the Duke's oj^inion; 
 and took in excellent part the avoAval, that her Majesty con- 
 sidered the Duke of Wellington to be not only the greatest 
 but the best and wisest of her subjects. All this soon got 
 abroad, and tended more and more to replace him in the 
 aff'ections of the English people, who, though, like the 
 natives of other free states, they are not always under the 
 guidance of judgment and moderation, seldom prove per- 
 manently ungrateful to those who serve them faithfully. 
 
 The ceremony of her Majesty's coronation took place in 
 1838. All the crowned heads of Europe sent special am-
 
 1838.] MARSHAL SOULT IN LONDON. 391 
 
 bassadors to represent them on that occasion — Louis 
 Philippe selecting for the service one of the ablest of the 
 Duke's former opponents, Marshal Soult, Duke of Dahnatia. 
 Marshal Soult was received wherever he showed himself in 
 London with such a burst of enthusiasm as surprised as 
 much as it delighted the old warrior ; and the Duke, in 
 particular, embraced every opportunity of treating him 
 with kindness and urbanity. A pleasant sight it was to see 
 these two aged rivals in arms seated amicably together ; 
 and very gratifying to listen to the terms in which, on fitting 
 occasions, they spoke one of the other. This was especially 
 the case at the Mansion House, when, in reply to a toast 
 Avhich coupled their names together, the Duke alluded to 
 Soult in language which seemed to stir every generous 
 feeling in the Erench marshal's heart. Marshal Soult, 
 during his stay in London, was a frequent visitor at Apsley 
 House, and made there the acquaintance of many officers 
 with whose names the events of the Peninsular war had 
 rendered him familiar. Among others, the late Lord Hill 
 was presented to him, and was greeted in these words, 
 " What ! have I found you at last? Ton, whom I followed 
 so long without ever being able to overtake you." This 
 was said in allusion to Hill's masterly retreat from Madrid 
 to Alba de Tormes, after the failure before Burgos. It 
 was meant as a compliment to the vigilance and activity of 
 the English general, and as a compliment Lord Hill, the 
 best-hearted and gentlest of men, accepted it. 
 
 Though meeting Lord Melbourne in private on friendly 
 terms, and ever ready to advise when consulted on points 
 which might be referred to him, the Duke never, as a public 
 man, compromised his own principles, or affected to approve, 
 far less to support, measures which contradicted them. He 
 condemned, on all fitting occasions, the policy of the 
 Government in conniving at the growth of Mr O'Connell's 
 influence in Ireland, and denounced what he called its ti'uck- 
 ling to Chartist agitators in England and to the chiefs of 
 the democratic party in the Canadas. Its relations with 
 foreign states, though less complicated than they had been, 
 were stiU, according to his view of such matters, unsatis-
 
 392 LOED MELBOUEXE'S POSITION. [1839. 
 
 factory ; and with the general treatment of the colonies, 
 and especially of the West Indies, he was by no means 
 pleased. But while he took care to express himself freely 
 on these subjects, he carefully avoided bringing on j)re- 
 mature divisions ; and lost no opportunity of urging his 
 supporters in the House of Lords to bide their time. That, 
 however, which the leaders of the opposition would have 
 willingly deferred, the ministers themselves at length pre- 
 cipitated. Lord Melbourne, unable to cope with the ques- 
 tion of the Corn Laws, and with the absolute anarchy into 
 which Ireland was falling, took advantage of a defeat on 
 the suspension of the constitution of Jamaica to send in his 
 resignation. This was in 1839, and proved to be a step for 
 which no one in or out of Parliament was prepared. The 
 Queen, young and without experience, could not but feel 
 the loss of a minister who had been, so to speak, her first 
 instructor in public affairs ; while the Duke, however in- 
 stinctively adverse to Whig Grovernment, was not disposed, 
 if the step could be avoided, to sanction a change for which 
 he believed that the public mind was scarcely ripe. Being 
 sent for by her Majesty, however, he at once obeyed the 
 sommons, and recommended that she should take counsel 
 with Sir Robert Peel. Prom the complication of mistakes 
 which arose out of that interview, it is not worth while to 
 raise the veil which time has thrown over them. There 
 was no difficulty in allotting the great offices of state to 
 individuals recommended by the future minister ; but when 
 the royal hoiisehold came to be touched, misunderstandings 
 arose. I need not go further into the discussion of these 
 matters than to state, that the minister in making one 
 demand, was understood to make another ; and that her 
 Majesty, refusing to submit to what had been represented to 
 her as an unprecedented outrage on her personal dignity, 
 Sir Eobert Peel felt that his commission was at an end. 
 Tlie result was, that after an interregnum of less than a 
 week. Lord Melbourne returned to office, and that for two 
 years more the affairs of the country were conducted as tbey 
 had previously been. 
 
 Though restored to office the ministers were far from re-
 
 1S41.] MINISTERS RESIGN. 393 
 
 gaiuing tlie confidence of the country. Their majorities in 
 the House of Commons fell oif from day to day ; and at last, 
 in the summer of 1841, a direct vote of want of confidence 
 was carried. Nothing now remained except either to re- 
 sign or to dissolve Parliament, and the latter expedient 
 being tried, the issues went against them. An amendment 
 to the address in answer to the Queen's speech was carried 
 in both Houses, and ministers immediately resigned. In the 
 new Cabinet, of which Sir E-obert Peel became the head, 
 the Duke accepted a seat, but without oflice. It was an 
 arrangement dictated entirely by that principle of self-abne- 
 gation, which Avas stronger, perhaps, in the Duke of Wel- 
 lington than in any public man of his age ; and though it 
 placed him, under a constitutional Grovernment, in a some- 
 what anomalous position, it had its advantages too. It left 
 him leisure to discuss every question, both of home and 
 foreign policy, without . imposing upon him the labour of 
 attending to the details of administration ; while it piaced 
 him, towards both the people and the Crown, in the posi- 
 tion of an independent and therefore unprejudiced adviser. 
 No great while elapsed, however, ere the anomaly, if such 
 it deserved to be called, passed av/ay. In 1842 Lord HiU 
 died, and the command of the army, which thereby became 
 vacant, was at once pressed upon the Duke. Moreover, 
 in order to avert the risk of his again resigning it, a 
 patent of ofl&ce was made out in his favour and presented 
 to him. It is curious to contrast the position of the Duke 
 of Wellington, in this as well as in other stages of his 
 career, with that of his illustrious predecessor in glory and 
 in a nation's caprices, John Duke of Marlborough. The 
 latter, when driven into exile, was charged, among other 
 delinquencies, with having plotted to obtain from Queen 
 Anne an appointment by patent to the command of her 
 armies. The former, without any solicitation on his part, 
 was by Queen Victoria constituted, by patent under the 
 great seal. Commander-in-chief of her armies, during the 
 term of his natural life. 
 
 The command of the army thus conferred upon him, the 
 Duke retained to the day of his death ; and as there is
 
 394 THE DUKE COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF. [1842. 
 
 probably no interval in bis public career witb respect to 
 wbieh so mucb misunderstanding prevails, it appears to me 
 that I cannot do better tban give bere a brief and connected 
 view of his habits of acting and thinking ; and of the esti- 
 mation in ■which, as a man of business, he Avas held by those 
 who had the best and readiest means of forming a correct 
 judgment on that subject. 
 
 It was the Duke's custom, when no special business 
 pressed, to arrive at the Horse Guards about one o'clock in 
 the day ; and during the sitting of Parliament to remain there, 
 till his presence in the House of Lords was required. His 
 attendance in the Lords was, as I need scarcely observe, 
 very punctual, and he almost always arrived in time for 
 prayers, or soon after. Wlien Parliament was not sitting, he 
 often remained at the Horse Guards till six, and sometimes 
 till seven in the evening. 
 
 As soon as he entered his room, his messenger proceeded 
 to inform the several heads of departments of his arrival ; 
 and they all waited npon him with their papers, if they had 
 any reports to make, or points on which to consult him. 
 They came, however, one by one, and one by one he saw 
 them. Nor was this ceremony omitted, even if there hap- 
 pened to be no special reason for the interview. On many 
 occasions the officer looked in, wished him good morning, 
 and told him the news of the day ; and if there followed the 
 statement, " I have nothing with which to trouble your 
 Grace this morning," the never-failing answer was, " I am 
 very glad to hear it." Nor need it be a matter of surprise 
 that he should so express himself. The business of his own 
 department proved often to be that which made the smallest 
 demand upon his time ; and wearied, as he generally was 
 when he arrived at the Horse Guards, a respite from any 
 fresh strain on his attention could not prove otherwise than 
 agreeable. 
 
 " I remember," writes one who knew him well,* " when 
 his own friends were in office, going over to him on one oc- 
 casion with my box full of papers, when he turned to me, 
 * Private letter from General Sir George Brown, G. C. B.
 
 1S42.] DISLIKE TO BAD HAXDS. 395 
 
 and asking what I had, observed rather angrily that he had 
 already had thirteen boxes referred to him that morning, be- 
 fore he left Apsley House." The same correspondent ob- 
 serves, "Speaking from the experience which I had of him, 
 I shoidd say that the Duke was a remarkably agreeable 
 man to do business with, because of his clear and ready 
 decision. However much I may have seen him irritated 
 and excited with the subjects which I have repeatedly had 
 to bring under his notice, I have no recollection of his ever 
 having made use of a harsh or discourteous expression to 
 me, or of his having dismissed me without a distinct and 
 explicit answer or decision in the case under consideration. 
 Like aU good men of business, who consider well before 
 coming to a decision, his Grace was accustomed to adhere 
 strictly to precedent ; to the decisions he may have pre- 
 viously come to on similar cases. This practice greatly faci- 
 litated the task of those who had to transact business with 
 him, seeing that all we had to do in concluding our state- 
 ment of any particular case, was to refer to his decision on 
 some similar one. 
 
 " During the latter years of his life, the Duke had a great 
 objection to waste his time in deciphering or making out 
 the meaning of cramped or indistinct manuscripts. It was 
 customary, therefore, to have all such clearly written out 
 by a clerk, to whose hand he was accustomed, and to 
 announce every case by a short statement or precis ; in 
 which, however, no one ever attempted to dictate to him 
 what his decision should be. The precis generally concluded 
 with some such words as these : — ' Perhaps your Grace may 
 consider that this case can be disposed of as was done in 
 so and so.' 
 
 " These precises were always written out distinctly in half 
 margin. His Grace usually gave his answers on the oppo- 
 site side of the page, for the most part laconically, but some- 
 times in great detail. These memoranda of his never failed 
 to exhibit that thorough acquaintance with the details of the 
 military service, for which he was remarkable. And if, at 
 any time, he happened to be at fault, or that recent changes 
 had occurred, modifying regimental matters since he was
 
 396 JEALOUS OF THE EXPENSE OF THE ARMY. [1843 
 
 intimately associated witli them, the circumstance had only 
 to be pointed out. He would listen with the greatest 
 patience to such explanations, and never made the slightest 
 difficulty in modifying his memoranda so as to meet them." 
 
 Although the Duke did not always read the correspond- 
 ence in the cases laid before him, he nevertheless insisted 
 that it should invariably accompany the statement or precis, 
 in such order of arrangement as that he should be able to 
 refer to it, if found requisite, without difficulty or delay. 
 
 It is scarcely necessary to observe, that all orders for the 
 movement of troops, for the assembling of general courts- 
 martial, &c. &c., as well as leaves of absence to officers, and 
 furloughs to the men, emanate from the commander-in- 
 chief. In granting leave of absence to any but general 
 officers in command of districts, and officers commanding 
 regiments, the adjutant-general seldom troubled the Duhe 
 by referring to him. But the applications of general and 
 commanding officers were always submitted. On such oc- 
 casions his unvarying question was, " How is the duty to 
 be done ? " and if the arrangement proposed seemed to him 
 satisfactory, he never refused the indulgence. 
 
 There was nothing of which the Duke was more jealous, 
 than of proposals which involved, or threatened to involve, 
 any addition to the expense of maintaining the army. His 
 scruples on that head originated in two sources. In the 
 first place, the Duke as a minister and a statesman was, 
 perhaps, the most rigid economist in modern times. He 
 eftected larger reductions in the public expenditure during 
 the brief period of his Administration, than had been effected 
 before, or have been effected since, by any other head of the 
 Grovernment within the memory of man. In the next place, 
 he retained to the last a persuasion that the less the army, 
 its expenditure and general management, is brought into 
 public notice, the better. " Depend upon it, gentlemen " (a 
 common expression of his when he was in earnest), " that 
 the greatest enemies the army has in this country, are those 
 who would add unnecessarily to its expense." 
 
 It was during his administration of affairs at the Horse
 
 1843.] NO ENEMY TO IMPROVEMENTS. 397 
 
 Gruards that the questions of improving the armament of 
 the troops, and establishing a better system of education in 
 regiments, originated ; and a general impression seems to 
 prevail that he stoutly resisted both. This is far from being 
 correct. In regard to the infantry soldier's old weapon, it 
 is perfectly true that he often spoke of it as the most for- 
 midable thing of its kind in Europe ; and that he was accus- 
 tomed to quote the authority of Marshal Marmont in cor- 
 roboration of that sentiment. But so far was he from 
 expressing any desire to check the progress of improvement, 
 that he has often been heard to declare that, " looking to 
 the amount of mechanical skill in this country, and the 
 numerical weakness of our army, as compared with those of 
 the great continental Powers, British troops ought to be 
 the best armed troops in the world." Accordingly it was 
 with his express sanction and approval, that the Minie 
 musket was introduced ; and the manufacture of 28,000, 
 undertaken by Lord Anglesey, who was then Master- Gene- 
 ral of the Ordnance. The one point to which the Duke 
 adhered was, that the old bore should be retained, partly 
 because the greater size of the English bullet had rendered 
 it much more effective than any other in former wars ; partly 
 because, in the event of the stock of conical bullets running 
 short, the troops, in case of emergency, would be able to use 
 the cartridges which were already in store. Besides, the 
 fabrication of the new weapon was necessarily a work of 
 time, and it could be introduced only by degrees into the 
 ranks. He would not, under such circumstances, consent 
 to have two different kinds of ammunition in use, out of 
 which confusion must almost inevitably arise were the army 
 to take the field in a hurry. 
 
 It was with this weapon, the Minie musket, bored up 
 to the diameter of the old firelock, that the battles of the 
 Alma and of Inkermann were fought. The Enfield, which 
 is a lighter weapon of the same construction, though of nar- 
 rower calibre than the Minie, was introduced when Lord 
 Hardinge presided at the Ordnance Office, and came ulti- 
 mately to supersede the Minie. 
 
 The first specimens of the Minie musket made use of
 
 398 THE MINIE MUSKET. [1844. 
 
 were put into tte hands of detachments from Chatliam 
 and other places, which assembled at Woolwich for prac- 
 tice, under Captain Brownrigg, of the Grreuadier Gruards. 
 Anxious about the matter, and desirous himself of witness- 
 ing the operation, the Duke arranged with Sir George 
 Brown, then Adjutant- Greneral, that they should proceed to 
 "Woolwich together ; Lord Charles AVellesley, the Duke's 
 younger son, bearing them company. " There were about 
 100 men," says General Brown, "extended in aline of skirm- 
 ishers for the purpose of firing at a target, placed near the 
 butt. I took the Duke up to the butt, in order to see the 
 practice they made, but he did not remain there five 
 minutes before he expressed a wish to go back to the skirm- 
 ishers. It was not the practice made that he desired to 
 witness, — of that he had no doubt, — but the loading and 
 manipulation of the cartridges, in respect to which he was 
 anxious to satisfy himself. He accordingly went along the 
 whole line, watching each man as he loaded his musket ; 
 and having satisfied himself that there was no diflBculty, at 
 once recommended that- the manufacture of the arms should 
 be proceeded with. As soon as a portion of them was pre- 
 pared and distributed to the troops, it became necessary 
 to issue some instructions in regard to the mode of loading 
 and using them. I accordingly drew up a short paper 
 of instructions, and submitted it to his Grace for approval. 
 In reading it over, I saw him deliberately pass his pen 
 through the word 'rifle' wherever I had used it; and on 
 my asking him why he had done so, he explained ' we must 
 not allow them to fancy they are all riflemen, or they wiU be- 
 come conceited, and be wanting next to be dressed in green, 
 or some other jack-a-dandy uniform.' He then went on to 
 say, that there was nothing we ought to watch more jea- 
 lously than any infringement on the national uniform, nor 
 anything more important to maintain, tbiui the solidity and 
 steadiness of our infantry." 
 
 Of this infantry, — of what he called the infantry of the 
 old stamp, — it is well known that the Duke entertained the 
 highest admiration. He believed that the world had never 
 seen anything equal to it. In illustration of this fact,
 
 1S44.] THE INFANTRY OF THE OLD STAMP. 399 
 
 Sir G-eorge Brown has kindly communicated to me tlie fol- 
 lowing facts : — 
 
 " It was my practice, while in office, to inspect the troops, 
 reporting direct to head-quarters ; and to make a verbal as 
 well as a written report of the state in which I found them 
 to the Duke. Returning on one oceasiou from the inspec- 
 tion at Canterbur}' of the 97th regiment, which had recently 
 landed from IN'orth America, I informed his G-race that I 
 had found the regiment in excellent order ; that the men 
 looked robust and healthy, and that they were well drilled, 
 and remarkably steady under arms. I concluded by stating, 
 that they had adopted no newfangled notions, either in their 
 dress or appointments, and that, on the whole, the regiment 
 presented the best specimen I had lately seen of the old stamp 
 of British infantry, and appeared to me to be all that could 
 be desired. His answer was, ' I am very glad to hear it, 
 very glad indeed. Depend upon it, there is nothing like 
 them in the world in the shape of infantry. Let the men 
 have their furloughs, and visit their friends.' 
 
 " AATien he was at Walmer, in the winter, I always 
 apprized him as often as I was about to inspect the troops 
 at that place, and at Dover. He generally attended these 
 inspections in his Lord Warden's uniform, accompanied by 
 any friends he might have staying with him at the Castle ; 
 and when I found any corps in particularly good order, I 
 used to ask his G-race to say a complimentary word or two 
 to the commandiug officer, which he always willingly did. 
 On one occasion, at Walmer, when the depots of tu'o regi- 
 ments were there, and had been fonned into one small bat- 
 talion under the senior officer, the Duke, after he had per- 
 formed several evolutions, in order to amuse himself, and no 
 doubt expecting to puzzle the major, desired him to place 
 his battalion in line between the spire of a chapel to the 
 north of the barrack-yard, and a windmill standing out in 
 the fields to the southward. 
 
 " It may not, perhaps," observes my correspondent, " be 
 very generally known, that one individiial has no means of 
 adjusting himself exactly on an alignment between two dis- 
 tant points ; and that it can only be accomplished by two
 
 400 HIS "WATCH. [1844. 
 
 or more mutually dressing eacli other on the points respect- 
 ively. Having allowed the major, therefore, to boggle at 
 it for some time, the Duke good-humouredly himself took 
 the matter in hand, showing how it might be done ; and 
 in the course of his ride afterwards, set to Avork on the 
 Downs drilling the party which was with him in the same 
 exercise!" 
 
 There was not one of all his exploits of which the Duke 
 loved more to speak, than of the affair with Marmout's 
 cavalry at El Boden. This was never done with a view to 
 self-glorification ; but in illustration of the steadiness and 
 discipline of his troops, of which he held that it afforded a 
 most remarkable proof. 
 
 " On the same day to which I refer," says Greneral 
 Brown, " when the battalion was formed into square, he 
 broke out on the subject, declaring that ' it was with two 
 or three squares such as that, toe beat ofi^ all the Prench 
 cavalry. Ay, not only beat them off, but attacked them, 
 and recovered the guns which those fellows were about to 
 carry off.' And then he made me move the square, with- 
 out reducing it, in order to show how easily it could be 
 done." 
 
 The Duke, except in bad weather, generally proceeded 
 to his office at the Horse Guards on foot or on horseback. 
 If on horseback he usually rode through the Park, if on 
 foot he came by the streets, and always alone. Everybody 
 knew him ; and everybody, high and low, rich and poor, 
 saluted him as he passed. He never failed to acknowledge 
 these marks of respect in his own peculiar way, by touching 
 his hat with the two first fingers of the right hand, which 
 he held upright, the palm of the hand itself being turned to 
 the front. The Duke's punctuality in keeping engage- 
 ments is well known. It is not, perhaps, so generally un- 
 derstood, that he was very particular in his record of time. 
 He used often to step into Dent's shop at Charing Cross, 
 on his way to the office, to see how his watch was going, 
 and to put it right. This watch was made by Mr Dent, 
 after instructions given to him by the Duke himself; aiul 
 besides having hands so arranged that the Duke, by bring-
 
 1844.] NOT OPPOSED TO APvMT SCHOOLS. 401 
 
 ing his fingers round upon tliem, could tell in the dark 
 what o'clock it was to a minute, it wound up from the 
 handle. 
 
 The Duke was no great promoter of high education 
 among the working classes, and covild not, therefore, be 
 expected to originate schemes for its advancement in the 
 army ; but to say that he fought against the establishment 
 of the new school system in regiments, is to say too much. 
 He was jealous, whether rightly or wrongly, of the inter- 
 ference of the War Office in that matter, and believed that 
 the arrangements for providing corps with more efficient 
 school-masters would have been better left in the hands of 
 the Commander-in-cldef. But when the subject was fairly 
 taken uj), he never set himself against it ; declaring on the 
 contrary that, as far as his influence could avail, it should 
 have fair play. Even in regard to the compulsory attend- 
 ance of recruits at school, he declined to act upon the sug- 
 gestions of those who were opposed to it. He did not deny 
 that the recruit, on first joining, has so much both to learn 
 and to unlearn in other respects, that to compel his attend- 
 ance in school for a couple of hours daily, seems to tax his 
 powers of application too far. But having accepted the 
 proposition as made to him by the Secretary at War, no- 
 thing could induce him to go back from it. Indeed, it was 
 a matter of principle with the Duke never, as Commander- 
 in-chief, to j)lace himself in an attitude of antagonism to 
 any department of the Queen's Government ; but, on the 
 contrary, to aftord all the assistance in his power to carry 
 into effect the views of her Majesty's responsible advisers. 
 
 The general order which he issued, defining the sort of 
 examination to which candidates for first commissions and 
 for promotion should be subjected, indicates pretty plainly 
 what his opinions were on the subject of education for 
 officers. Long before that question was publicly agitated, 
 he found opportunities over and over again to state, that a 
 young gentleman intended for the military service of this 
 country ought to receive the best education which the country 
 can afford ; that looking to the duties which he might be 
 called upon to discharge, such education ought not to be 
 
 26
 
 402 XOT IN FAVOUR OF A STAFF CORPS. [1844. 
 
 too professional ; and tliat it Avas nowhere to be procured 
 of a higher or more practical shape than at one of our great 
 public schools or universities. " An officer in the British 
 army," he used to say, " is not a mere fighting machine. 
 He may be called upon any day to serve the Crown as 
 governor of a colony, or in disturbed districts as a magis- 
 trate ; and he will not be able to fill either post well, unless 
 he know something of the constitution and laws of the 
 land." The Duke's predilection in favour of military aca- 
 demies, and even of staff colleges, was not, therefore, very 
 decided. 
 
 " You think that officers ought to be educated specially 
 for the staff". Perhaps you would like to have a staff corps 
 also. That is what they do in France, and in other conti- 
 nental countries, and the consequence is that their staff 
 corps are generally made up of pedants and coxcombs. I 
 am sure that I found the young gentlemen who came to me 
 from High Wickham to be pretty much of that stamp. In- 
 deed, the only good staff" officers that I had, were men who 
 knew their regimental duties thoroughly, and possessing a 
 fair share of natural ability, soon learned to apply the prin- 
 ciples of regimental handling to the handling of larger 
 bodies. I don't mean to say that officers of engineers and 
 of artillery can do without some knowledge of mathematics, 
 or that sketching is not useful, as far as it goes, in all 
 branches of the service ; but if you limit a general in the 
 selection of his staff to mathematicians, or to the members 
 of a particular corps, instead of giving him, as he has now, 
 the choice of the whole army, you will soon find that you 
 have not chosen the best means of placing talent where it 
 may be most usefully employed for the public service." 
 
 There was no question in the Duke's day about perman- 
 ently organizing the army, on the home establishment, into 
 divisions and brigades. I am, therefore, unable to say how 
 far he would or would not have approved of the arrange- 
 ment. But looking to the strong opinions which he enter- 
 tained against increasing the expense of our military estab- 
 lishments, and even against bringing the army prominently 
 into public view, it seems probable that the plan would
 
 IS44.] HIS OPINION OF THE BOARD OF ORDNANCE. 403 
 
 not have secured his hearty approval. Even camps of in- 
 struction he never recommended, which it is natural to 
 suppose he would have done, had he considered that the 
 sort of experience to be acquired in them was adequate to 
 the cost. Be this, however, as it may, there can be no 
 doubt of his hostility to other changes which have been 
 effected since his death. Never having himself experienced 
 the slightest inconvenience in his intercourse with the AVar 
 Office, as it used to be, or with the Board of Ordnance, he 
 was entirely opposed to the principle of amalgamation 
 which now prevails. He used, on the contrary, to speak of 
 the Ordnance as a perfect model for boards, and of the 
 master-generalship as affording the best constitutional 
 means of bringing an officer of experience and ability into 
 the Cabinet. 
 
 The Duke was far from being satisfied with the constitu- 
 tion and management of the medical department of the 
 army. He believed that it had become less instead of more 
 efficient, through its intimate connection with the War 
 Office. And with respect to the commissariat, his opinion 
 was that of most men who have seen war, or thought much 
 about it. It can never be rendered efficient except in the 
 field ; and should therefore, in time of peace, be kept to all 
 intents and purposes in abeyance. 
 
 There never lived a man in high station and authority 
 more patient than the Duke of the involuntary errors of 
 those under him, or more anxious to keep them right if 
 they were inadvertently going wrong. The perverse blun- 
 derings of wrong-headed officials, on the other hand, provoked 
 him exceedingly. The following anecdotes will better illus- 
 trate these facts than any statements of mine. 
 
 A young officer of a distinguished regiment once brought 
 his soldier servant to a court-martial, on charges — I be- 
 lieve, of theft — which he failed to establish. The command- 
 ing officer, conceiving that the officer had deliberately 
 stated what was untrue, insisted upon his retiring from the 
 corps ; and was unfortunately supported in his view of the 
 case by a majority of the other officers, who threatened, if 
 the young man persisted in remaining with the regiment, to 
 
 26*
 
 404 niS FORBEARAXCE. [1844. 
 
 send him to Coventry. This coming to the kno'wledge of 
 the young man's father, he complained through the Adju- 
 tant-General to the Duke, and the Adjutant- General being 
 desired to investigate the case, found that the ground as- 
 sumed by the offended commanding officer vras quite unten- 
 able. The commanding officer, however, an honourable but 
 obstinate man, would not consent to change his course ; 
 and the case, as a matter of necessity, was laid before the 
 Duke. It did not find him unprepared. He had read all 
 the papers, and knew every incident as it had fallen out 
 during the progress of the disagreement ; and now, making 
 the colonel sit down, he argued the matter with him, and 
 advised, more like an indulgent father reasoning with a son, 
 than a Commander-in-chief speaking to a subordinate. All, 
 however, was of no avail. The colonel would not be con- 
 vinced ; and at last said, that if the officer were allowed to 
 remain in the regiment he must quit it. 
 
 Upon this the Duke rose from his chair, and looking 
 with some severity at the colonel, said, " that hitherto he 
 had spoken to him as an officer of greater experience than 
 his own ; he must now address him as Commander-in-chief 
 of the army, while he told him, that his conduct in this 
 matter was unreasonable, and the views of discipline which 
 he maintained quite incorrect." 
 
 I wish that it were in my power to add, that the high- 
 minded but mistaken commanding officer was brought 
 round to see the truth at last. Unfortunately it was not 
 so. In anguish of spirit, and in spite of the advice of all 
 his friends, he retired from the service by the sale of his 
 commission ; while the young officer behaved so gallantly 
 throughout the Crimean campaign, that with one consent 
 his brother officers took him to their hearts again, and 
 whatever prejudice might have existed for a season against 
 liim, passed away. 
 
 My next anecdote is somewhat different, both in its de- 
 tails and in its moral. There were two noble lords then in 
 the army, a marquis and an carl, both cavalry officers, 
 though the marquis is now dead ; who managed to be in 
 constant hot water with somebody or another, and gave, in
 
 1844.] THE TWO NOBLE LORDS. 40o 
 
 consequence, a great deal of trouble at the Horse Guards. 
 It happened that on a particular occasion the Adjutant- 
 General went into the Duke's room with a bundle of 
 papers in his hand, and found him seated at his table with a 
 large pile of correspondence spread out before him. This 
 was at Walmer, where, more perhaps than anywhere else, 
 the Duke disliked to be woi'ried with disputes and misun- 
 derstandings on points of discipline among officers ; which, 
 indeed, he declared never could take place, if officers Avould 
 only study and make themselves acquainted with the regu- 
 lations and established practice of the service. Looking up, 
 evidently out of humour, the Duke asked what the Adjutant- 
 General had there ; and when the answer was, " Another 
 
 complaint from Lord ," the Duke seized the papers 
 
 which were before him with both hands, dashed them doAvn 
 with a thump upon the table, and throwing himself back in 
 his chair and crossing his arms on his chest, exclaimed, " By 
 
 , these two lords, my Lord C and my Lord L , 
 
 would require a Commander-in-chief for themselves ; there 
 is no end to their complaints and remonstrances." 
 
 It turned out that the papers which the Duke had be- 
 fore him comprised a correspondence which had been for- 
 warded to him by post between Lord L and the Mili- 
 tary Secretary, in consequence of the objections raised by 
 the former to the examination of candidates for commissions 
 in the regiment of which he was colonel. 
 
 The Duke, as is well known, could not bear to be inter- 
 rupted when engaged in business which he wished to trans- 
 act in solitude. All who were acquainted with his habits, 
 whether at the Horse Guards or elsewhere, did their best 
 on such occasions to prevent his privacy froTn being broken 
 in upon. With reasonable men they succeeded ; with others 
 they failed. General Brown has given the following story of 
 himself : — " I don't know whether or not you are aware of the 
 circumstance, that the Duke not only understood, but could 
 write the Spanish language with considerable ease. I was 
 going into his room one day, when Lord EagLan told me I 
 had better not, for his Grace was at that moment writing a 
 Spanish note to Marshal Xarvaez, who happened then to be
 
 406 CAREFUL OF THE SOLDIER'S COMFORTS. [1844. 
 
 in London." Of course General Brown followed Lord Eag- 
 lan's advice. Isot so a gallant officer of higher rank, who, 
 either on that or some other day, desired, at an equally in- 
 convenient moment, to have an interview with the Com- 
 mander-in-chief. It was in vain that Lord Eaglan, then 
 Lord Fitzroy Somerset, told him that the Duke was much 
 engaged, and that it would not do just at that moment to 
 interrupt him. The noble officer insisted on Lord Eaglan 
 going to the Duke, which he at last agreed to do, placing 
 his friend at the same time so close to the door, that he could 
 overhear the terms in which his desire for an audience was 
 received. I need not stop to particularize them. They 
 were of such a nature as led to the precipitate retreat of the 
 intruder ; and they probably induced him to be guided ever 
 after by the counsels of those who were more conversant 
 than himself with the Duke's feelings and habits. 
 
 There is a strange belief abroad tliat the Duke cared little 
 for the comforts of the soldier in barracks, or his rational 
 and healthy recreations when oiF duty. This is a mistake. 
 It was under his regime that the greatest improvement ever 
 made in the soldier's condition as the inhabitant of a barrack- 
 room was introduced. Till he became Commander-in-chief, 
 each bed contained two soldiers; and in many barracks the 
 beds were arranged, like berths on board of ship, in two tiers. 
 The Duke did away with these practices, and gave every 
 soldier his own bed ; between Avhich and the bed next to 
 it a certain space was ordered to be kept clear. He was at 
 the head of the armj^ also when ball-courts Avere established, 
 and cricket-grounds prepared at large military stations. To j 
 every suggestion that was offered for improving ventilation, 
 as Avell as for affording facilities to improved cooking, and] 
 the means of .<?leanliness in the men's rooms, he gave prompt] 
 and favourable attention. He believed, indeed, that in this^ 
 as in other matters, ideas in themselves good might be car- 
 ried too far ; and that there was some danger, both of over- 
 taxing the liberality of Parliament and of spoiling the sol- 
 dier, by first creating for him, and then supplying, wanta] 
 which before enlistment he had never felt. But this did not] 
 hinder him from going as far as he believed to be right iiil
 
 1844.] HIS EESPECT FOR VETEKiNS. 407 
 
 bettering the soldier's condition, and dealing liberally with 
 him. He never, indeed, became a convert to the notion, 
 that the ranks can in this country be filled -with persons of 
 Avhat is called a respectable position in life. He still looked 
 to want of other employment, and to idle habits, as the 
 readiest sources of recruitment. And so believing, he was 
 reluctant to j)art with the power of maintaining discipline 
 through the dread of corporal punishment. But all this 
 never prevented him, on proper occasions, from standing 
 forward as the champion of the rights and of the honour of 
 the army. "When the Ten Tears' Enlistment Act was 
 brought forward, and j)roposals were made for granting to 
 non-commissioned officers and privates rewards for good con- 
 duct, he supported both measures. He did so, however, in 
 the former case, only after he had obtained the insertion of 
 a clause in the Bill, whereby ten years' men were allowed 
 to re-enlist, counting their back service towards establish- 
 ing a right to a pension. For, as he arrived at the conclu- 
 sion that a good soldier will always re-enlist, so he held 
 that the efficiency of an army depends quite as much upon 
 the exjDerience and soldierly habits of the men as upon the 
 talents of the officers. And he illustrated his case by re- 
 ferring to the triumphs which a handful of British troops 
 had recently achieved in China, Africa, and India. " I ask 
 you, my lords," he said, after describing the night attack of 
 the 80th regiment at Sobraon on some Sikh guns which 
 were plunging shot among them in their bivouac, " I ask 
 whether such a feat could have been performed, under such 
 circumstances, except by old soldiers. It would have been 
 impossible. Bear in mind the conduct of the Emperor 
 Napoleon with respect to old soldiers ; remember the man- 
 ner in which he employed them. BecoUect, too, how much 
 they are prized by every Power all over the world ; and 
 then, I will once more entreat your lordships never to con- 
 sent to any measure which would dej)rive her Majesty's 
 service of old and experienced men ; and thus pave the way 
 for disasters which assuredly would follow when the army 
 should come to be employed in war." 
 
 The same generous spirit appeared to animate him, as
 
 408 OPINION OF NAPOLEON. [1844. 
 
 often as the opportunity was afforded of speaking of the 
 services of the ai'my in the presence of an enemy. It was 
 he who, when, at a critical moment, the Court of Directors 
 recalled Lord EUenborough, advised that Sir Henry Hard- 
 inge should take his place ; and who, by and by, after the 
 affair of Chillianwallah, forced the late Sir Charles Napier 
 upon the reluctant authorities in Leadenhall Street. In- 
 deed, he went further ; for when Sir Charles expressed him- 
 self disinclined to serve again under masters with whom he 
 was dissatisfied, the Duke overcame the scruple by exclaim- 
 ing, " Then I must go myself." The result proved that there 
 Avas no need for either Napier or anybody else to avert a 
 disaster. Lord Grough had Avon the battle of G-uzerat, and 
 subdued the Sikhs before Napier quitted England. But 
 not the less fluttering to Sir Charles Avas this acknowledg- 
 ment on the part of the great Duke that he held the mili- 
 tary talents of that distingviished soldier in the highest esteem. 
 It is, however, fair to add, that, admiring him as a soldier, 
 the Duke Avas not always pleased with Napier's proceedings 
 in time of peace, or Avith the terms in which he Avas wont to 
 deliver an opinion. The Duke decided against the conqueror 
 of Sciude in his difference Avith the late Marquis of Dalhou- 
 sie ; and criticised Sir Chaides's order against gaming in the 
 army in the foUoAving ludicrous manner. His attention 
 being draAvn to it one day in conversation, he looked at the 
 speaker, leaned back in his chair, moved his head slowly 
 from side to side, but said nothing. " Don't you thiuk he is 
 right?" was the question Avhich folloAved. "I am of 
 opinion, Avith Napoleon," replied the Duke, " that we had 
 better Avash oui" foul linen at home."
 
 409 
 
 CHAPTEE XL. 
 
 BREAK UP OF SIR ROBERT PEEL'S GOVERNMENT CORRESPOND- 
 ENCE "WITH THE EARL OP DERBY. 
 
 It belongs to the biographer of Sir Eobert Peel to relate 
 tow public affairs were mauaged between 1841 and 1846. 
 The Administration was upon the whole very successful. It 
 put an end to Mr O'Connell's influence in Ireland. It 
 readjusted the balance between revenue and expenditure. 
 Many changes Avere introduced into the commercial and 
 fiscal system of the country, which without satisfying the 
 founders of the Corn Law League, gave great oifence to the 
 Conservative party. By and by came the Irish famine, and 
 with it Sir Eobert Peel's desire to get rid of the Corn Laws 
 altogether. In this desire the Duke of Wellington did not 
 participate. He was unable to comprehend how the free 
 admission of foreign wheat could benefit that portion of the 
 empire wherein the people were without the means of piu'- 
 chasing wheaten bread at any price. He advocated rather 
 the gratuitous supply of maize to the famishing Irish, till 
 measures could be adopted for employing them in remuner- 
 ative labour. He was not indeed averse, should the neces- 
 sity arise, to suspend the operation of the Corn Laws, by an 
 order in council ; but he strongly objected, and the majority 
 of his colleagues did the same, to their sudden repeal. The 
 Duke, however, though jealous for the political influence of 
 the landed gentry, which he believed to be dependent on 
 the continuance of the Corn Laws, was still moi*e jealous for 
 a retention of the powers of Groverument in safe hands.
 
 410 THE CORN LAAYS. [1846 
 
 Hence wlaeu those differences in the Cabinet arose whieh 
 led to Sir Eobert Peel's resignation, and when Lord John 
 Eussell's failure to form a Government compelled Sir Eobert 
 to resume office, the Duke made at once a sacrifice of his 
 own opinions, and used every endeavour to bring his friends, 
 in the Cabinet and out of it, to the same state of mind. 
 What the reasons were Avhich induced him to follow this 
 course, Avill be best understood if I give an extract from a 
 letter addressed by him to a noble marquis, with whom he 
 lived on terms of intimacy, and whom he was anxious both 
 on public and private grounds to reconcile to a policy which 
 had by that time become inevitable. " Lord John Eussell," 
 the letter says, " saw her Majesty on the 10th of December. 
 On the 11th, he undertook to form an Administration, and 
 continued his efforts to do so till Saturday, the 20th. It is 
 necessary to bear in mind all these dates, for they are im- 
 portant. 
 
 " During the interval between the 10th and the 20th of 
 December, those members of the Cabinet who had objected 
 to the plan proposed by the minister, were required to state 
 whether they, or any of them, were prepared or disposed to 
 form an Administration on the principle of maintaining the 
 Corn Laws as they are. I myself, and I believe all the rest, 
 answered that they were not so prepared ; and I added, that 
 in spite of all that was said or written about protection, 
 nobody had ever heard of any individual approaching the 
 Queen with the advice that she should form an Administra- 
 tion on that principle. 
 
 " "When Lord John resigned his commission on the 20th 
 of December, her Majesty sent for Sir Eobert Peel ; who, 
 before he went, wrote to me and informed me that, if the 
 Queen should desire it, he would resume his office, and, even 
 if he stood alone, would, as her Majesty's minister, enable 
 her Majesty to meet her Parliament, rather than that her 
 Majesty should be reduced to the necessity of taking for her 
 minister a member of the League, or any of those connected 
 with its politics. 
 
 " As soon as I heard of this determination, I applauded 
 it, and declared my determination to co-operate in its exe-
 
 1846.] HIS REASONS FOR YIELDING. 411 
 
 cution. For the question to be cousidered then was, not 
 what the Corn Laws should be, but whether the Queen 
 should have a Grovernment ; and I felt myself bound to stand 
 by the Sovereign, as I had done in 1834." 
 
 It thus appears that unwilling as the Duke was to assent 
 to arrangements calculated in his opinion to affect injuri- 
 ously the landed interests, he was still more reluctant to see 
 a Whig Administration again in office, with the prospect 
 not remote of a considerable accession to it of the Corn 
 Law League or radical element. 
 
 That the Duke over-estimated the immediate danger of this 
 combination to the great institutions of the country, experi- 
 ence has made manifest. Posterity, however, would be un- 
 able to arrive at a just estimate of his character, were any 
 phase of his great mind, however apparently extravagant, 
 kept out of view. I consider myself bound, therefore, to 
 paint him, as he has painted himself in an unrestrained 
 and generous correspondence. On the other hand, his loy- 
 alty to a pledge once given, no consideration whatever could 
 shake. Many letters were addressed to him by politicians, 
 in and out of Parliament, calling upon him to stand firm, and 
 assuring him that the country would support him. Among 
 others the late Mr John Wilson Croker wrote, in a style 
 highly characteristic, to this eifect : " that the Duke ouglit 
 to extricate himself from the false position in which Sir 
 Eobert Peel had placed him ; that he ought not to be a 
 party to measures, which would destroy the gentry, the 
 aristocracy, and the monarchy, but should withdraw from 
 the Administration, leaving Sir Eobert Peel and Lord John 
 Eussell to work together. In this case," the letter goes on 
 to say, " while you command an army of observation, they 
 will find themselves unable to effect much mischief, and will 
 certainly not succeed in carrying repeal." The following 
 was the Duke's reply : — 
 
 " Though there is no more sincere well-wisher to the exist- 
 ing Corn Laws and the Sliding Scale than myself, and thougli I 
 have done, and shall continue to do, everything in my power 
 to maintain them, the position which I have taken up is 
 not the Corn Laws. My object is to maintain a Government
 
 412 HIS MOTIVES OF ACTIOX. [ISIG. 
 
 in the country. For that I have always contended, and 
 always will contend. I am very sensible that any influence 
 which I may possess, any good which I may aid in doing, 
 any evil which I may contribute to avert, must depend upon 
 the kindness and good opinion of my friends. Such influ- 
 ence may easily be written, or cried, or even talked down. So 
 be it ; I cannot avoid the evil. But I positively and dis- 
 tinctly decline to take a step, which must have the effect of 
 dissolving the Government, of which the dissolution must 
 be followed by the loss of Corn Laws and everything 
 else. 
 
 " I will not attempt to reason upon the hypothetical views 
 which you take of Sir Eobert Peel's propositions. I 
 hope soon to see what they are. In the mean time I endea- 
 vour to prevail upon those who desire to learn, or are will- 
 ing to read, or to listen in conversation to my opinions, to 
 w^ait and see what Peel will propose, before they decide 
 upon the course which they shall take when his proposals 
 see the light. This would be reasonable in any course, 
 except, perhaps, in one involving party politics." 
 
 How these negotiations and contests ended, all the world 
 knows. Sir Eobert Peel brought forward and carried in the 
 House of Commons a Bill for the repeal of the Corn Laws. 
 He retained office till this Bill passed the House of Lords, 
 and then, being defeated on another measure, he resigned. 
 Once more the great Conservative party fell to pieces, and 
 once more the Duke set himself to the task, at that moment 
 apparently hopeless, of reuniting it. He addressed himself 
 to Lord Stanley, now Earl of Derby, as the person most 
 fitted from talent, influence, and position, to accomplish 
 that great work. The subjoined correspondence will show 
 in what temper this negotiation was carried on. 
 
 " St James's Square, ISth Feb., 1846. 
 " My dear Duke, 
 
 " The kindness with which you have always spoken to 
 me on public matters since we became members of the same 
 Grovernment, and especially what fell from you the other 
 uight at Apsley House, induces me to address you with a
 
 i846.] LORD DERBY'S LETTER. 413 
 
 frankness and unreserve whicli our relative positions would 
 hardly justify in circumstances less critical than those in 
 ■\vhic1i the country is now placed. We cannot disguise from 
 ourselves that the unfortunate measure now under consider- 
 ation has, for the time at least, completely dislocated and 
 shattered the great Conservative party in both Houses, and 
 that the sacrifice of your own private opinion, which you and 
 others have made for the purpose of keeping it together, 
 has failed, as I feared it would, to effect your object. You 
 may remember my appealing to Sir Eobert Peel himself in 
 the Cabinet, to confirm my statement, that if his measure 
 were carried, it would be by the aid of the whole body of 
 his opponents, and the lukewarm support of a few of his 
 friends, against the angry opposition of the great mass of 
 the Conservative party. It is evident that these anticipa- 
 tions have been realized to the fullest extent, and I think it 
 very doubtful whether even your great name and influence 
 will induce the Lords to sanction the Bill, especially if the 
 majority in the House of Commons be not far greater than 
 seems now to be anticipated. I am obliged to add frankly, 
 that I think confidence has been so shaken in Sir Eobert 
 Peel, that in spite of his pre-eminent abilities and great ser- 
 vices, he can never reunite that party under his guidance. 
 Nor do I at present see any one in the House of Commons 
 of sufficient ability and influence to do so ; yet it is clear that 
 if the party is to be efficient, in office or out of office, but 
 especially in office, it must have leaders of eminence in that 
 House. In the House of Lords the case is widely different. 
 There your influence and authority are and must be para- 
 mount, and much as many of your followers may regret the 
 course which a sense of duty has led you to take on this oc- 
 casion, they will still regard you with undiminished personal 
 respect and attachment ; and while you are at their head, 
 will follow no other leader, if any were ill-judged enough to 
 set himself up in opposition to you. And this leads me to 
 speak with entire unreserve of my own position, to which 
 you referred in such kind terms the other evening. I will 
 not affect to deny that my wish to be removed to the Upper 
 House was influenced in great measure by my desire to assist
 
 414 LETTER CONTINUED. [1846. 
 
 YOU as a colleague, and to take a portion of the "neiglit of 
 public business off your shoulders ; — nor that I looked for- 
 ward to making myself so known to the members of that 
 House as to qualify me in some degree to act as your suc- 
 cessor whenever you should yourself desire to be relieved 
 from the burthens of office. But when, with that disregard 
 of yourself which you have shown throughout your life, you 
 advise that I should now endeavour to rally the Conserva- 
 tive party, I am forced to remind you that in the present 
 state of affairs and feelings they could only be so rallied in 
 opposition to the measures of your own Government. I may 
 be compelled by a strong sense of the impolicy of the present 
 measures to give my vote against them ; but I have resisted, 
 and I shall continue to resist, entreaties that I would take 
 an active part, and put myself at the head of a movement to 
 throw tliem out. Such a course would be wholly repugnant 
 to my personal feelings, and I think it would not be for the 
 public good, nor even for the ultimate interests of the Con- 
 servative party, which I think it would tend rather to dis- 
 unite than to consolidate. "Whatever course, therefore, I 
 may take, I feel it to be for the general advantage, as it is 
 consistent with my own feelings, that it should be the least 
 prominent that circumstances will allow ; and above all, that 
 it should be such as to place me as little as I can help in 
 even apparent competition with you. It is very difficult, in 
 tlie present entangled posture of affairs, even to guess at the 
 course of events ; but I must avow my conviction, that 
 whatever be the result of this measure, the days of the pre- 
 sent Grovernment are numbered, and that the country must 
 again, for a time, be subjected to a Whig Government. And 
 this is the natural course of events, as the overthrow of the 
 present Administration will be effected by some "Whig ma- 
 jority, aided by the absence of some of the dissatisfied Con- 
 servatives in the House of Commons, where alone a defeat 
 will justify the resignation of the Cabinet. The party which 
 succeeds in overthrowing Peel must replace him ; and, in 
 the formation of an Administration verging on Eadicalism, I 
 see the only chance of rc-uniting, in opposition, the great 
 Conservative party, and training the House of Commons
 
 1846.] HIS VIEW OF THINGS. 415 
 
 ■members of it to the conduct of public business. While 
 the present Grovernmeut lasts, the Conservatives will be dis- 
 united and discontented. If it were possible, which I think it 
 is not, to form a Protection Government now, they would 
 be separated from that section of the party which has ad- 
 hered to Peel ; but, in opposition, both sections would again 
 rally, forgetting past differences, and, in our House, following 
 as readily as before your lead, so long as you are able and will- 
 ing to give them the benefit of your counsel and guidance. It 
 is possible that I may hereafter be called on to take a more 
 active part, and though my personal wishes would lead me 
 to withdraw as much as possible from politics, I suppose 
 that, like others, I must obey the call ; but at present I can 
 do little but harm by putting myself forward ; and if I have 
 been unable to prevent a separation of party, which I deplore, 
 I will not do anything to widen that separation, and make 
 the present unhappy breach irreparable. 
 
 " I am sure, my dear Duke, that you will forgive me for 
 having spoken of these matters as openly as if you and I 
 were only spectators, with no personal interest in the issue. 
 Your frankness has encouraged mine, and I am quite confi- 
 dent that the public good is the main consideration which 
 influences both of us. If you desire to see me on the state 
 of public affairs, I will readily obey your call ; but after what 
 you have said to me, I have thought it best that you should 
 be fully aware of the view which I am disposed to take, and 
 of the consideration by which my course, so far as I can 
 yet judge of it, is likely to be influenced. 
 " Believe me, my dear Duke, 
 
 " Yours very sincerely, 
 
 " Stanley. 
 
 " His Grace the Duke of Wellington, K.G., &c." 
 
 " Pebruary 19. 
 " My dear Lord Stanley, 
 
 " I did not receive your letter till I returned home 
 yesterday evening ; and having been under the necessity of 
 dining with the members of the Cabinet at the Duke of 
 Buccleugh's, I can only now write an answer to it. I am
 
 416 LETTER TO LORD DERBY. [1846. 
 
 niucli flattered by the confidence which you repose in mo ; 
 and I will write to you with as little reserve, relying with 
 confidence that what passes between us will be communi- 
 cated only by the consent of both. 
 
 " Tou are aware how anxious I have been throughout these 
 discussions, commencing in October last, to preserve and 
 maintain the Administration of Sir Robert Peel, for the sake 
 of the Queen's ease ; knowing what he had performed, — the 
 restoration of the finance of the country ; the settlement of 
 the banking system ; the revival of commerce : the settle- 
 ment of this very Corn question, and his defence of what 
 had been settled ; the success in Ireland in putting down 
 the monster meetings ; the universal tranquillity prevailing 
 throughout Great Britain ; the confidence wdiich there was 
 felt in his Government abroad, and even in the United 
 States. To this, add the confidence in him and respect 
 for him felt in the great manufacturing and commercial towns 
 of the country, such as Manchester, Liverpool, Bristol, &c. 
 
 " I felt that he deserved, if he did not possess, the entire 
 confidence of both Houses of Parliament, and I attributed 
 his want of it, particularly in the House of Commons, very 
 much to his omission to make use of the majority which 
 he had at his disposition. 
 
 " I am very much afraid that the confidence of Parliament 
 has vanished, and that there is no chance of its revival ; on 
 tlie contrary, I am convinced that if his opponents in either 
 House were to move a vote of want of confidence in liim, it 
 would pass in the Commons by a large majority, — and 
 would be opposed in the House of Lords only by you and 
 myself, and his and my colleagues, a few in the Queen's 
 household, and very few personal friends of his, and rela- 
 tions and personal friends of mine. 
 
 " This is a sad change, and I am very apprehensive that 
 ■ there is no prospect of an improvement. That which I look 
 for therefore is, the holding together in other hands the 
 great, and at this moment powerful. Conservative party ; and 
 this for the sake of the Queen, of the religious and other 
 ancient institutions of the countiy, of its resources, influ- 
 ence, and power ; all necessary for its prosperity, and the
 
 1S46.] LETTER CONTINUED. 417 
 
 contentment and happiness of the people. It is quite obvi- 
 ous that I am not the person who can pretend to under- 
 take, with any chance of success, to perform this task. It 
 is not easy to account for my being in the situation which 
 I have so long filled in the House of Lords. Its commence- 
 ment was merely accidental. I was Commander-in-chief of the 
 army, and Master-general of the Ordnance, when Lord 
 Liverpool was struck by palsy ; and although I had not, I be- 
 lieve, once spoken in Parliament for twenty years, I at once 
 succeeded to the influence and power which he had for 
 many years exercised in the House of Lords, always in high 
 office ; which, however unworthily, I have held ever since, 
 whether in or out of office. But circumstances have for a 
 length of time tended to bring the exercise of this influence 
 to a termination, as I will show you in this letter, and I will 
 likewise show you that if it has not already terminated, it 
 must terminate in a very short period of time. 
 
 " Tou will see, therefore, that the stage is entirely clear 
 and open for you, and that notwithstanding that I am, 
 thank Grod, in as good health as I was twenty years ago, I 
 am as much out of your way, as you contemplated the pos- 
 sibility that I might be when you desired to be removed to 
 the House of Lords. 
 
 " I think that you were quite right in doing so ; and I 
 rejoiced, and still more now rejoice, that you did so, 
 
 " For many years, indeed from the year 1830, when I re- 
 tired from office, I have endeavoured to manage the House 
 of Lords upon the principle on which I conceive that the in- 
 stitution exists in the constitution of the country, that of 
 Conservatism. I have invariably objected to all violent and 
 extreme measures, which is not exactly the mode of acquir- 
 ing influence in a political party in England, particularly 
 one in opposition to Government. I have invariably sup- 
 ported Government in Parliament upon important occasions, 
 and have always exercised my personal influence to prevent 
 the mischief of anything like a difterence or division between 
 the two Houses, — of which there are some remarkable in- 
 stances, to which I will advert here, as they will tend to 
 show you the nature of my management, and possibly, in 
 
 27
 
 418 LETTER COXTIXUED. [1S4G. 
 
 some degree, account for tlae extraordinary power which I 
 have for so many years exercised, without any apparent 
 claim to it. 
 
 " Upon finding the difficulties in which the late King 
 William was involved hy a promise made to create peers, 
 the number, I believe, indefinite, I determined myself, and 
 I prevailed upon others, the number very large, to be ab- 
 sent from the House in the discussion of the last stages of 
 the Eeform Bill, after the negotiations had failed for the 
 formation of a new Administration. 
 
 " This course gave at the time great dissatisfaction to the 
 party ; notwithstanding that I believe it saved the existence 
 of the House of Lords at the time, and the constitution of 
 the country. 
 
 " Subsequently, throughout the period from 1S35 to 1841, 
 I prevailed upon the House of Lords to depart from many 
 principles and systems which they as well as I had adopted 
 and voted, on Irish tithes, Irish corporations, and other 
 measures, much to the vexation and annoyance of many. 
 But I recollect one particular measure, the union of the 
 provinces of Upper and Lower Canada, in the early stages 
 of which I had spoken in opposition to the measure, and had 
 protested against it ; and in the last stages of it I prevailed 
 upon the Ho\ise to agree to, and pass it, in order to avoid 
 the injury to the public interests of a dispute between the 
 Houses upon a question of such importance. 
 
 " Then I suppoi'ted the measures of the GJovernment, and 
 protected the servant of the Government, Captain Elliot, in 
 China. All of which tended to weaken my infiuence with 
 some of the party ; others, possibly a majority, might have 
 approved of the course Avhich I took. 
 
 " It was at the same time well known that, from the com- 
 mencement at least of Lord Melbourne's Government, I 
 was in constant communicatiou with it, upon all military 
 matters, whether occurring at home or abroad, at all events. 
 But likewise upon many others. 
 
 ' " All this tended, of course, to diminish my influence 
 in the Conservative party, while it tended essentially to 
 the ease and satisfaction of the Sovereign, and to the
 
 1846.] PEEGSES THE LEADERSHIP OX LORD DERBY. 410 
 
 maintenance of good order. At length came the resigna- 
 tion of the Grovernment by Sir Robert Peel, in the month of 
 December last, and the Queen desiring Lord John Eussell 
 to form an Administration. 
 
 " On the 12th of December, the Queen wrote to me the 
 letter of "which I enclose the copy, and the copy of my an- 
 swer of the same date ; of which it appears that you have 
 never seen copies, although I communicated them imme- 
 diately to Sir Robert Peel. 
 
 " It was impossible for me to act otherwise than is indi- 
 cated in my letter to the Queen. I am the servant of the 
 Crown and people. I have been paid and rewarded, and I 
 consider myself retained ; and that I can't do otherwise 
 than serve as required, when I can do so without dishonour, 
 that is to say, as long as I have health and strength to 
 enable me to serve. 
 
 " But it is obvious that there is, and there must be, an 
 end of all connection and counsel between party and me. 
 I might with consistency, and some may think that I ought 
 to, have declined to belong to Sir Robert Peel's Cabinet on 
 the night of the 20th of December. But my opinion is, 
 that, if I had, Sir Robert Peel's Grovernment would not 
 
 have been framed ; that we should have had and 
 
 in office next morning. 
 
 "^ But, at all events, it is quite obvious that when that 
 arrangement comes, which sooner or later must come, there 
 Avill be an end to all influence on my part over the Conserv- 
 ative party, if I should be so indiscreet as to attempt to 
 exercise any. You wiU see, therefore, that the stage is 
 quite clear for you, and that you need not apprehend the 
 consequences of diflering in opinion from me when you will 
 euter upon it ; as in truth I have, by my letter to the 
 Queen of the 12th of December, put an end to the connec- 
 tion between the party and me, when the party will be in 
 opposition to her Majesty's Grovernment. 
 
 " My opinion is, that the great object of all is that you 
 should assume the station, and exercise the influence, which 
 I have so long exercised in the House of Lords. 
 
 " The question is, how is that object to be attained ? 
 27 *
 
 420 HIS OWX ITAXAGEMEXT. [1846. 
 
 Bv guiding their opinion and decision, or by following 
 it"? 
 
 " Ton vrill see that I have endeavoured to guide their 
 opinion, and have succeeded upon some most remarkable oc- 
 casions. But it has been by a good deal of management. 
 
 " Upon the important occasion and question now before 
 the House, I propose to endeavour to induce them to avoid 
 to involve the country in the additional difficulties of a dif- 
 ference of opinion, possibly a dispute, between the Houses, 
 on a question in the decision of which it has been frequently 
 asserted that their lordships had a personal interest ; which 
 assertion, however false as affecting each of them personally, 
 could not be denied as aiFecting the proprietors of land in 
 general. 
 
 " I am aware of the difficulty, but I don't despair of car- 
 rying the Bill through. 
 
 " Tou must be the best judge of the course which you 
 ought to take, and of the course most likely to conciliate 
 the confidence of the House of Lords. 
 
 " My opinion is, that you should advise the House to vote 
 that which would tend most to public order, and would be 
 n:ost beneficial to the immediate interests of the country. 
 
 " But do what you may, it will make no difi"erence to me ; 
 you will always find me aiding and co-operating in the road 
 of good order. Conservatism, and Government; and doing 
 everything to establish and maintain your influence in the 
 Conservative party, which my position may enable me to do. 
 
 " I am certain that the establishment of that influence, and 
 your success in keeping the party united, are essential to the 
 ease of the Queen, the maintenance of the religious and 
 other institutions of the country, and the promotion of its 
 best interest. 
 
 "' I have to observe upon only one other point referred to 
 in your letter, that is, the formation of another Administra- 
 tion, which I have always considered as referable to the 
 Sovereign alone. I concur in opinion with you, that the 
 difi"erence in the Conservative party, arising out of the exist- 
 ing state of affairs, must be reconciled by a period of joint 
 opposition to a "Whig Government. But if you should sue
 
 1846.] PROTECTION TO AGRICULTURE EXDED. 421 
 
 ceed, as I feel confident you will, in rallying round you the 
 Conservative party in the House of Lords, I submit to you, 
 that if you should be required by the Sovereign to form a 
 Grovernment, you should not decline without taking time to 
 consider of the proposition, and for inquiry as to the means 
 of forming a Grovernment in the House of Commons, and 
 the support which the Conservative party would give you 
 there. 
 
 " Protection to agriculture is out of the question. I 
 have considered the Corn Law of 1841 and 1842 to be at 
 an end since the day on which Sir Robert Peel resigned bis 
 office, and recommended to the Queen to form another 
 Government. He never could return into Parliament and 
 retain that law, and I did not, and do not, see in the House 
 persons capable of retaining it. I shall be happy to go to 
 you or to receive you here at any time you please. In the 
 mean time this letter will show you exactly how I stand, 
 and what I mean to do in the measures now under con- 
 sideration." 
 
 It is not to be supposed that the Duke corresponded 
 during this great crisis exclusively with members of either 
 House of Parliament, or with men who filled then, or had 
 formerly filled, conspicuous places in the Administration of 
 the country. As had occurred during the agitation of the 
 Reform Bill, every individual, high or low, who conceived 
 that he had excogitated a new idea, wrote to explain it to the 
 Duke. It appeared, indeed, as if, to use his own expression, 
 the whole British people, regarding him as public property, 
 considered that liis time, as well as his purse, was at every- 
 body's disposal. He had begun, however, before this, as 
 the following extracts from his letters will show, to cut 
 short such volunteer advisers. A great admirer of the sliding 
 scale wrote from Bristol, on the 2ud of March, to say, that 
 he had discovered a strong reason, not as yet adduced in 
 either House, why the existing laws should be maintained. 
 It amounted to this, that as foreign corn might be imported 
 at an expense of at least 21s. per quarter below what was 
 required to raise wheat at home, a few corn merchants, by
 
 422 OTHER CORRESrONDEXTS, [184G. 
 
 combining together, could so operate upon tlie market as to 
 throw the whole, or three-fourths, of English wheat-growing 
 land out of cultivation. The Duke answered the commu- 
 nication thus : — 
 
 " rield Marshal the Duke of Wellington presents his 
 compliments. He has received, and retvirns thanks, for 
 
 Mr 's letter of the 2nd inst. He begs leave to decline 
 
 to correspond with any gentleman on any subject which 
 either is or may become the subject of discussion in her 
 Majesty's Cabinet or in the House of Parliament of which 
 he is a member." 
 
 Another gentleman, equally zealous on the opposite side, 
 had addressed to him, on the 13th of February, from Bir- 
 mingham, an earnest and, as the writer doubtless imagined, 
 an eloquent appeal on behalf of free trade to the lai'gest 
 extent. It was answered in these terms : — 
 
 " Field Marshal the Duke of "Wellington presents his 
 
 compliments to , and has received his letter. He begs 
 
 leave to decline to correspond with any gentleman on siib- 
 jects under the consideration of her Majesty's Cabinet or in 
 Parliament." 
 
 He was a little more discursive in his rejoinder to a third 
 stranger, who, writing from Wolverhampton, called his 
 attention to certain errors, real or imaginaiy, in one of Sir 
 Eobert Peel's speeches : — 
 
 " Field Marshal the Duke of Wellington presents his 
 
 compliments to . He is the Commander-in-chief of the 
 
 army, but he has no control over, or connection with, Sir 
 Eobert Peel's speeches in Parliament — above all, not with 
 
 their correction or criticism. He recommends that ■ 
 
 should address the gentleman who made the error, and not 
 one who had nothing to do with the speech, and knows 
 nothinjr about it."
 
 42S 
 
 CHAPTER XLI. 
 
 THE DUKE IN PRIVATE LIFE HIS PECULIARITIES HIS 
 
 FRIENDS MR ARBUTHNOT HIS HABITS HIS ANXIETY ON 
 
 THE SUBJECT OP NATIONAL DEFENCES HIS LAST ILLNESS, 
 
 DEATH, AND FUNERAL. 
 
 "We have now to follow the great Duke into private life ; 
 into a manner of life as private, at least, as was consistent 
 with the due performance of the many official duties which 
 still devolved upon him, and with the regular demands of 
 the House of Lords upon his attendance, which he never 
 omitted to render. His time he appears to have divided 
 pretty much as he had done for many years previously, 
 residing during the parliamentary session in London, and 
 spending the recess partly at Strathfieldsaye, partly at Wal- 
 mer. It was one of his amiable peculiarities, that whatever 
 happened to be his own possessed great attractions in his 
 eyes. Strathfieldsaye, a commodious house of the date of 
 Queen Anne, but in an architectural point of view certainly 
 not an imposing structure, he regarded as one of the best 
 in England. Of Walmer Castle he often said, that it was 
 " the most charming marine residence he had even seen — 
 that the Queen herself had nothing to be compared with it." 
 And Apsley House, as it had been rebuilt under his own 
 superintendence, so it was, according to his view of such 
 matters, without a defect. His pictures, his statuary, his 
 furniture, his horses, and his carriages, were all regarded in 
 the same light. Of these latter, there was one which was 
 in special favour with him, and which he valued the more
 
 42-1 HIS PECULIARITIES. [1847. 
 
 because it owed its peculiar shape to liis own ingenuity. 
 Originally a cabriolet, he had prefixed to it a driving seat, 
 by means of which it became a phaeton, having the perch 
 of more than ordinary length, and the four wheels all of 
 the same diameter. It was in this vehicle that, during the 
 last years of his life, he was accustomed, in bad weather, to 
 drive to and from the Horse Guards, and he spoke of it as 
 the most comfortable and convenient of all his carriages. 
 
 Another of the Duke's peculiarities was, that though 
 retaining to the last a warm regard for his old companions 
 in arms, he entered very little with them, after he became a 
 politician, into the amenities of social life. There is reason 
 to believe that neither Lord Hill nor Sir George Murray 
 ever visited the Duke at Strathfieldsaye ; nor could they or 
 others of similar standing, such as Lord Anglesey, Sir Ed- 
 ward Paget, and Sir James Kempt, be reckoned among the 
 habitues of his hospitable gatherings in Apsley House. The 
 circle in which he chiefly moved was that of fashionable 
 ladies and gentlemen, who pressed themselves upon him, 
 and were flattered, as indeed they had much reason to be, 
 with the notice which he took of them, and by his presence 
 at their parties. At the same time, the Duke knew per- 
 fectly well how to draw the line, even within that circle, 
 between intimacy and mere acquaintanceship. Prom the 
 friends of his youth he never withdrew the attachment 
 which first brought them together, and among connections 
 of later growth, there were some which he valued very 
 highly. 
 
 Of his old friends, none, perhaps, shared his confidence 
 more fully than the late Mr John Wilson Croker and Mr 
 Charles Arbuthnot. With the former, his acquaintance 
 began when he was Irish Secretary, and it continued unin- 
 terrupted to the day of his death. It was, liowever, a wise 
 confidence which the Duke gave. He relished Mr Croker's 
 society, because of the great extent of that gentleman's 
 knowledge, and his varied powers of conversation. But he 
 ■was not blind to the failings of the ex-Secretary to the 
 Admiralty ; and used to enjoy nothing more than seeing 
 him, as occasionally happened, tripped up in an argument. 
 
 i
 
 t847.] MR JOHN WILSON CEOI^ER. 425 
 
 Mr Croker was one of liis most regular correspondents, 
 especially in seasons of political perplexity. The Duke did 
 not always nnmber him, on such occasions, among the most 
 judicious of his advisers. 
 
 From Mr Arbuthuot, on tlie otlier hand, he seems never 
 to have kept back a thought. Mild and gentle in his de- 
 portment, that gentleman possessed, in no common degree, 
 the quality of discretion ; and gave himself up so entirely 
 to the Duke and his concerns, as to postpone to them all 
 apparent consideration of his own. He reaped his reward 
 in such a measure of confidence and affection as were not 
 bestowed upon any other human being. Latterly, indeed, 
 after both had become widowers, Mr Arbuthnot occupied 
 apartments in Apsley House, and was the Duke's constant 
 companion for a portion, at least, of the months which he 
 passed in the country, as well at Walmer as at Strathfield- 
 saye. It was touching to witness the regard of these old 
 men, one for the other ; especially to observe the degree of 
 tenderness with which the Duke watched over the comforts 
 of his friend. Though nearly of the same age, Mr Arbuth- 
 not was physically more infirm than the Duke, and the 
 Duke knew it. Hence, after they had walked together for 
 a while, in an autumnal evening, on the beach beneath the 
 castle, the Duke would stop short and say : " JNTow, Arbuth- 
 not, you've been out long enough. The dew is falling, and 
 you'll catch cold ; you must go in." And like a child obey- 
 ing the behests of its mother or its nurse, Arbuthnot, not 
 always without a brief remonstrance, would leave the Duke 
 to contimie his walk alone, and withdraw into the castle. 
 
 Having touched upon this matter, I may as well sacrifice 
 chronological order, and bring my narrative of the friend- 
 ship of the two men to an end. Mr Arbuthnot, after living 
 with the Duke for many years, was at last seized with the 
 malady under which he sank. Dr Ferguson was sent for, 
 and having carefully examined his patient, made a report to 
 the Duke, that the case was hopeless. They were sitting 
 together in that back room which the Duke usually occu- 
 pied, and which, as it still continues in the state in which 
 lie left it, so let us hope that it will be retained iu the
 
 426 MR ARBUTHXOT'S FUXEEAL. [1847. 
 
 same condition -n-liile Apsley House shall endure. The 
 Duke drew his chair close to Ferguson's, in order that he 
 might hear ; and when the doom was uttered, he seized the 
 doctor's hand, and rubbing it between his own, and gazing 
 into Ferguson's face, exclaimed in a broken voice, " No, no ; 
 he's not very ill, not very bad, — he'll get better. It's only 
 his stomach that's out of order. He'll not die." But he 
 did die, in spite of all the nursing which the Duke person- 
 ally bestowed upon him, and the eagerness with which he 
 clung to every symptom which could by any means be ac- 
 cepted as favourable. 
 
 Mr Arbuthnot was buried in Kensal Grreen, and the 
 Duke attended his funeral. While the service was read, 
 the hero of a hundred fights sat wrapped in his mourning 
 cloak, with tears streaming down his cheeks. There is a 
 custom there, for which the Duke was evidently not pre- 
 pared. At that stage in the service, when the clergyman 
 reads the words, " earth to earth, dust to dust, ashes to 
 ashes," the coffin is made, by machinery, to sink slowly 
 under the floor of the chapel. The Duke, when he saw the 
 coffin begin to sink, gave a start. He watched it with in- 
 tense apparent interest till it disappeared ; but he could 
 not be persuaded to descend afterwards into the vault. 
 What passed within his mind during that interval, who 
 shall undertake to say ? But whatever it might be, it 
 stayed his tears, and sent him back, calm and collected, as 
 soon as the funeral service was over, to the haunts of busy men. 
 
 They who never visited the Duke at Strathfieldsaye, or at 
 Walmer, can form no accurate conception of his qualities as 
 a private member of society. At both places, but especially 
 at the latter, he seemed to lay aside all the conventionalities 
 of life, as it passes in the capital. He was perfectly at 
 ease himself, and leaving his guests to do as they preferred, 
 he placed them at their ease also. His general habits, to 
 which he adhered to the last, may be thus described. 
 
 He rose early, and read and wrote till ten o'clock. At 
 ten, breakfast was served, after which he withdrew again to 
 his own room, where he remained till about two in the after- 
 noon. He then joined his friends, rode or drove out with
 
 1847.] HIS HABITS. 427 
 
 them, or walked, as tlie case might be, making himself most 
 agreeable to all who approached him. A pack of hounds 
 was kept in the neighbourhood, with which he frequently 
 hunted, mounting any lady or gentleman who, not having 
 brought horses with them, desired to see the sport. At 
 seven he dined. The Duke ate but twice a day, at break- 
 fast and dinner. Though not a large feeder he ate fast, and 
 had an excellent appetite. He was never given to much 
 wine, and in later years found it advisable to cease from 
 the use of it altogether. But the hospitalities of his table 
 were generous. His conversation also, till deafness grew 
 upon him, was lively and instructive, and at table he 
 made it as general as possible. About nine, or occasionally 
 later, he would say, " Will anybody have any more wine ?" 
 and then rise and propose to go to the drawing-room for 
 coffee. It was a peculiarity of his that he always led the 
 way on these occasions, the ladies having, more Anglicano, 
 retired somewhat earlier. In the drawing-room he sat 
 usually in an arm-chair near the fireplace, and chatted with 
 such of his guests as drew near him. There was a total 
 absence of restraint, for every one present felt that he was 
 at liberty to do as he pleased. Cards were never intro- 
 duced at Walmer, though sometimes at Strathfieldsaye, 
 but books and newspapers lay on all tables, and the con- 
 versation rarely flagged. About eleven the ladies usually 
 retired, and half an hour afterwards the Duke would light 
 his candle and say, " I am going to bed ; whoever leaves the 
 room last will ring for the lights to be put out." 
 
 The Duke was an excellent sleeper, indeed he seemed to 
 have the faculty of sleeping whenever he chose, and it was 
 an unbroken slumber with him, when in health, from the 
 time he laid his head on the pillow till he rose again. It is 
 said of him, that when one of his lady friends expressed sur- 
 prise that he should continue to make use of a bed on which 
 there was no room to turn, his answer was, " "Wlien one 
 begins to turn in bed it is time to get up." 
 
 The Duke's conversation was of the most varied kind. He 
 read a great deal, and forgot nothing. His favourite authors 
 were Clarendon, Bishop Butler, Smith's " Wealth of Na-
 
 428 niS EEADIXG. [1847. 
 
 tious," Hume, the Ardiduke Charles, Gibbon, Leslie, and the 
 !Bible. But he did not confine himself to these. Every 
 new work of any mei'it which came out, he read ; and he 
 Avas especially interested in French and English memoirs, 
 and what our neighbours call " materials for history." JS^or 
 was he obliged to go far in search of this intellectual pabu- 
 lum. There was scarcely an English author, there Avas 
 certainly not an English novelist, who fiiiled to send the 
 Duke a copy of his book; indeed to such an extent Avas 
 this habit carried, that he was obliged, at last, to give orders 
 that no parcels of books should be taken in, unless he knew 
 beforehand that they were coming. But he Avas peculiar in 
 his reading, as in other things. 
 
 It chanced, on one occasion, that he was in Avant, when at 
 Walmer, of a new book. Niebuhr's History Avas recommended 
 to him ; and he began it. He read on till he reached the 
 narrative of Ccesar's cruelty to his prisoners ; and there shiit 
 the book. Nothing could induce him to go further. This 
 Avas too much. He would not have his idols so thrown doAA'n. 
 
 The Duke did not approve of the habitual, and therefore 
 common-place, discussion of sacred subjects, but as often 
 as they Avere introduced, you might perceive by his change 
 of manner, that he felt himself to be upon holy ground. Of 
 the Lord's Prayer he vised to say, that " it contained the sum 
 total of religion and of morals." But the greatest enjoy- 
 ment to his friends was when they could get him to discuss 
 his own campaigns. "When asked which of the Erench Mar- 
 shals he considered the best officer ? he replied, " Massena ; 
 I always found him Avhere I least desired that he should be." 
 Of the campaign of Salamanca he spoke as of " the most 
 perfect piece of manoeuvring Avhich the Avorld had seen since 
 the times of Erederick the Grreat." Soult he respected, 
 but observed, " though his plans seemed always to be admir- 
 able, he never knew Avhen to strike." His opinion of Napo- 
 leon was a very mixed one. He considered him " a great 
 man, but also a great actor." And here I may insert an 
 anecdote, Avhich, though it be not immediately connected 
 Avith his daily proceedings at Walmcr, may tend to illus- 
 trate the subject of which I am speaking.
 
 1847.] THE DUKE OX WATERLOO. 429 
 
 On the 8th of December, 1825, the following persons met 
 at Teddesley, the seat of Lord Hatherton, then Mr Little- 
 ton ; the Duke of Wellington, Mr Eiehard and Lady Har- 
 riet Bagot, Mr Peel, Mr Croker, Mr George Portescue, Mr 
 and Mrs Foster Cunliife, and Mr and Mrs Littleton. After 
 dinner the conversation turned on the "Waterloo campaign, 
 "nhen Croker alluded to the criticisms of the Preuch military 
 "writers, some of whom contended that the Duke had fought 
 the battle in a position full of danger, because he had no 
 practicable retreat. The Duke said, " At all events, they 
 failed in putting it to the test. The road to Brussels was, 
 however, practicable, every yard, for such a purpose. I knew 
 every foot of the plain beyond the forest and through it. 
 The forest on each side of the chaussee was open enough tc 
 infantry, cavalry, and even to artillery, and very defensible 
 Had I retreated through it, could they have followed me ? 
 The Prussians were on their flank, and would have been in 
 their rear. The co-operation of the Prussians in the opera- 
 tions I undertook was part of my plan, and I was not 
 deceived. But I never contemplated a retreat on Brussels. 
 Had I been forced from my position, I should have retreat- 
 ed to my right, towards the coast, the shipping, and my re- 
 sources. I had placed Hill whei^e he could have lent me im- 
 portant assistance in many contingencies, and that might 
 have been one. And again I ask, if I had retreated on my 
 right, would Napoleon have ventured to follow me ? The 
 Prussians, already on his flank, would have been in his rear. 
 But my plan was to keep my ground till the Prussians ap- 
 peared, and then to attack the French position ; and I exe- 
 cuted my plan." On quitting the room, Croker remarked 
 that he had never heard the Duke say as much on that sub- 
 ject before. 
 
 It w^as not, however, exclusively by dealing with great 
 matters like this, that the Duke delighted his auditors. 
 When speaking of his own wars he had numberless stories 
 to tell, both of individuals and of corps, some of them very 
 ludicrous — all of them deeply interesting. For example, 
 he used to say of his old aide-de-camp, Sir Colin Campbell, 
 who died at last Lieut. -Governor of Plymouth, a man gallant,
 
 430 HIS AXECDOTES. [1847 
 
 trustworthy, and naturally intelligent, " that he knew no 
 lan<;uage except his own, and that not very correctly. I had 
 a French cook in Spain, and Colin had charge of my domestic 
 affairs. The hatterie was not, as you may suppose, very per- 
 fect, and the cook came to Colin to complain. Neither un- 
 derstood a word of what the other was saying, but I over- 
 heard this pass between them. ' Mais, monsieur, comment 
 travailler ? ^ ' Travel ! ' said Colin, ' why you travel in a 
 coach ! ' On another occasion when we were in St Jean de 
 Luz, I had the mayor and all the magnates to dine with me. 
 In going away the mayor took up an umbrella which be- 
 longed to Colin, upon which Colin seized the other end of it, 
 took it away, and said with a low bow, ' C'est moine. ' " 
 
 Speaking of the battle of Yimeira, the Duke observed, 
 " The Erench came on, on that occasion, with great boldness, 
 and seemed to feel their way less than I always found them 
 do afterwards. They came on, as usual, in very hea\'y co- 
 lumns, and I received them in line, which they were not ac- 
 customed to, and we repulsed them three several times." 
 
 Referring to the advance from the Douro to the Ebro, 
 the Duke stated that " he got famously taken in on one oc- 
 casion." " The troops had taken to plundering a good deal. 
 It was necessary to stop it, and I issued an order announc- 
 ing that the first man caught in the act should be hanged up- 
 on the spot. One day, just as we were sitting down to dinner, 
 three men were brought to the door of the tent by the pre- 
 vot. The case against them was clear, ami I had nothing 
 for it but to desire tkat they should he ifed away, and hanged 
 in some place where they might be seen by the whole co- 
 lumn in its march next day. I had a good many guests with 
 me on that occasion, and among the rest, I thiiik, Lord Nu- 
 gent. They seemed dreadfully shocked, and could not eat 
 their dinner. I didn't like it much myself, but, as I told 
 them, I had no time to indulge my feelings, I must do my 
 duty. Well, the dinner went off rather gravely, and next 
 morning, s-ure enough, three men in uuifoi'm were seen hang- 
 ing from the bi'auches of a tree close to the high road. It 
 was a terrible example, and produced the desired effect ; 
 there was no more plundering. But you may guess my
 
 1847.] HIS ATTENDAXCE AT CHURCH. 431 
 
 astonisLmeut, wlien some months aftenvards I learned, that 
 one of my staff took counsel with Dr Hume, and as three 
 men had just died in hospital, they hung them up, and let 
 the three culprits return to their regiments." " "Weren't you 
 very angry, Duke ? " was the question. " Well, I suppose 
 I was at first ; but as I had no wish to take the poor fel- 
 lows' lives, and only wanted the example, and as the example 
 had the desired effect, my anger soon died out, and I confess 
 to you that I am very glad now that the three lives were 
 spared." 
 
 Though free in discussing the merits of those to whom he 
 had been opposed, the Duke was delicate in giving any 
 opinion respecting the military abilities of the officers who 
 served under him. Being pressed on one occasion to say 
 which among them all he considered to be his most promis- 
 ing pupil, he replied, " That is not a fair question ; it is not 
 for me to answer it. "Wait till they have opportunities of 
 showing what they can do, and then you will find out." 
 " But was not Moore a first-rate officer ? " " Moore was no 
 pupil of mine ; he was as brave as his own sword ; but he 
 did not know what men could do or could not do." "And 
 Hope ? " "I entertained a high opinion of Hope ; he 
 served but a short time with me, but I found him to be very 
 intelligent." "And Hardinge?" "Well, Hardinge is a 
 very clever fellow." Beyond this the Duke could never be 
 prevailed upon to go. 
 
 Both at Strathfieldsaye and "Walmer, the Duke was a 
 regular attendant at public worship, and received the sacra- 
 ment as often as it was administered. It was a touching 
 sight to see that great and venerable man, kneeling devoutly 
 before the altar-rails of the village church, with the sunlight 
 falling through the stained glass upon his head, and his own 
 attention fixed entii'ely upon the act in which he was parti- 
 cipating. He was not always so attentive during the sermon. 
 Indeed, unless the preacher were eloquent, or the subject 
 out of the common, he used generally to gather himself up 
 into the corner of the pew and go to sleep ; when he some- 
 times snored audibly. He was very particular also in re- 
 quiring that his guests should attend divine service some-
 
 432 COUNT NUGENT AND CAriAIN WATTS. [ 1847. 
 
 wliere. It happened on one occasion that Count Xugent, 
 an Irish gentleman, but an Austrian general, paid him a 
 visit at Walmer Castle. Sunday morning came, and the 
 Count said, " Duke, do you go to church ? " " Always ; 
 don't you ? " " I can't go to church with you, for you know 
 I'm a Catholic." " Oh, very well," was the answer ; upon 
 which he turned to Captain "Watts, who happened to be in 
 the room, and said, " Count Nugent wants to go to the Eo- 
 man Catholic chapel, do you know where it is ? " " Yes, 
 Sir," replied Watts. " Then be so good as to show him the 
 way." It was to no purpose that Count Nugent tried to 
 escape. Captain "Watts, an old Peninsular officer, had re- 
 ceived his instructions, and instructions from the Duke of 
 Wellington must be obeyed, and to the Eoman Catholic 
 chapel the Count was accordingly marched. The Duke was 
 a good deal tickled, and in walking to church with his Pro- 
 testant friends observed, " I knew he did not want me to go 
 to church, nor to go himself either, but I thought it best 
 that we should both go." 
 
 And here, though somewhat out of place, I may be per- 
 mitted to detail an anecdote which does equal credit to the 
 venerable prelate who administered the advice, and to the 
 great warrior and statesman who took it in such excellent 
 part. 
 
 After one of those severe attacks of illness which from 
 time to time laid him prostrate, and awakened the sympa- 
 thies of the Avhole nation, the Duke received a letter from 
 the present Bishop of Exeter, which not only expressed his 
 lively satisfaction at the Duke's recovery, but called the 
 Duke's attention to the fact that, before the Author of all, 
 human greatness is nothing ; and that it would be especially 
 becoming in one who had achieved, like himself, the highest 
 pitch of glory, if he publicly evinced his reverence for God 
 and for religion. That letter, with the Duke's reply, well 
 deserve to be published at length ; but for the present it 
 may suffice to state that the Duke thanked his monitor for 
 the advice so kindly given, and entered into a long and most 
 satisfactory statement of his own religious principles and 
 practices. He was neither the careless nor the profligato
 
 1850.] THE DUKE AND THE ALLIED SQUADRONS. 4S3 
 
 man whicli the world represented him to be. "Wherever his 
 example was likely to teU, he attended public worship regu- 
 larly ; and would do so in London also, except that he had 
 ceased for years to catch a word that was said. He used to 
 be present at the early morning service in the Chapel Eoyal, 
 till he found that in winter he could no longer do so, with- 
 out getting laid up with cold. No man knew better, no 
 man felt more keenly than he, the nothingness of human 
 power and glory ; and if he did not trust, as the Bishop ad- 
 vised him to do, he could have no hope at aU for the future. 
 Tlie Duke never appeared so fretful and dissatisfied as 
 when the French and English squadrons, which were about 
 to blockade the Scheldt, cast anchor together in the Downs. 
 It seemed to him an unnatural state of thinj^s that Enjiland 
 
 o fry 
 
 sliould ally herself with France, in order to dismember a 
 kingdom Avhich she had been mainly instrumental in consol- 
 idating, with a view to keep France in check. He did not, 
 however, allow his feelings to over-ride his habitual good 
 breeding and hospitality. He invited the commanders of 
 both squadrons to the castle, though he was probably not 
 sorry that the state of the weather would not permit the 
 French admiral to land. 
 
 The Duke was very proud of his eyesight, which indeed 
 continued to be remarkably good and clear to the last. He 
 has been heard to say that he was able to distinguish the 
 nationality of flags passing up and down channel, at distances 
 Avhich made them perfectly unintelligible to others ; and he 
 even asserted, and no doubt believed, that at night he could, 
 from the ramparts of the castle, see the lights in the town 
 of Calais. This, assuming the distance to be what geogra- 
 phers make it, was, I suspect, impossible ; but there is no 
 doubt that the Duke could, at eighty-three years of age, read 
 in the open air a well-written manuscript without using 
 spectacles. 
 
 The Duke's fondness for children was great ; and he was, 
 as might be expected, strongly attached to his own grand- 
 children, the children of his son, Lord Charles. One of 
 these was taken ill when on a visit at Walmer, and the Duke's 
 anxiety about the little sufferer knew no limits. 
 
 28
 
 434 niS FOXDXESS FOR CHILDREX. [1850 
 
 But the feeling was not new witli liim, as it sometimes is 
 with men who, for the first time, come under its influence 
 when they are well stricken in years. Though never demon- 
 strative, under any circumstances, and, through the press of 
 constant business, cut ofi' from indulging much in pastime 
 with his sons, he was extremely fond of them, and took the 
 deepest and the truest interest in their early training and 
 education. The Eev. H. M. Wagner, vicar of Brighton, 
 became tutor to the present Duke, then Marquis of Douro, 
 and to Lord Charles Wellesley, in 1S17 ; and in a private 
 letter, which he has kindly permitted me to use, he thus de- 
 scribes his first interview with their illustrious father : — 
 
 " In 1817, when the Duke sent for me to go to him at 
 Mont St Martin, the head-quarters pf the army of occu- 
 pation, at the very first interview he told me his intention 
 was that ' his boys should serve the King.' He desired 
 that they might be brought up as Christian gentlemen, in 
 all singleness and simplicity, every consideration being post- 
 poned to that of duty. The interest which he took in their 
 education may, in a manner, be exemplified by a single fact. 
 During a period of seven years that I was with the Marquis 
 of Douro and Lord Charles "Wellesley, he (the Duke) never 
 failed to answer by the very first post any inquiry or letter 
 connected with the well-being of his sons. No matter what 
 were the Duke's occupations, whether en route for the in- 
 spection of the fortresses in the Low Countries ; whether 
 at the Congress of Verona, or on a special mission to Sfc 
 Petersburg, he invariably answered my letters touching his 
 sons by the first post ; and the same exactitude prevailed in 
 the transmission of money for the payment of bills at Eton 
 and elsewhere. On this head, indeed, he was always most 
 particular ; and he did his best to stamp the same character 
 of punctuality on the moral being of his sons. lie laid it 
 down as a rule for their guidance at Eton, that they should 
 purchase nothing for which they had not in their pockets 
 tlie means of paying. The enclosed letter to myself, written ■ 
 after the young men had entered the university, sets this 
 matter in the clearest point of view."
 
 1850.] LETTER TO MR WAGXEE. 435 
 
 " Hatfield, 10th October, 1824. 
 
 " My dear Sir, 
 
 " I have received your letter of the 7th, to which I 
 proceed to give an answer ; and I request you to com- 
 municate it to my sous, which will save both me and them 
 trouble. 
 
 " After all the inquiries which I have made, I believe that 
 the allowance which they ought to have, and which would go 
 nearest to provide for their education at Oxford, excluding 
 a private tutor, but including everything else, would be for 
 Douro, who will be entered as a nobleman, £800 per annum, 
 including his half-pay ; and for Charles, who will be entered 
 as a gentleman commoner, £500 per annum, besides his half- 
 pay. I therefore, by this post, direct Messrs Coutts to 
 pay Douro £200, and Charles £125, on the 1st October, 
 1st January, 1st April, and 1st July each year, beginning 
 with the 1st ijist. 
 
 " I beg that Charles will observe that I mate him this 
 allowance, at present, in order that he may defray the ex- 
 penses of his education. He must recollect, however, that 
 he is only a younger brother, and that it is not at all clear 
 that he will ever have so much again, unless he shoitld make 
 it by his own industry and talent ; and I beg you will, tell 
 them both that when I entered the world I had just the sum 
 for the whole year which I now give Charles every quarter. 
 
 " I intend that these allowances shall cover all expenses 
 of every description ; and I have reason to believe them so 
 ample that I expect they will not run in debt ; jiarticularly 
 as I begin by paying them in advance, and as I will take 
 upon myself the following expenses : — 
 
 " The entrance fees at the college and university for 
 both. 
 
 " The expenses of the nobleman's and gentleman-com- 
 moner's gowns. 
 
 " They must pay for the furniture of their rooms them- 
 selves, but if you should think the expense too heavy upon 
 them immediately, I would advance the money, and they 
 can repay me hereafter. 
 
 " I give them the horses which they now have with them, 
 28 *
 
 436 LETTER CONTINUED. [1850. 
 
 of which they may dispose as they may think proper ; aud 
 they may take any servants they please out of my house or 
 gtables, they, of course, paying their wages, and also theii- 
 expenses, from the time of their leaving me. 
 
 " Accordingly, if you let me know what the entrance- 
 money is, and the expense of the gowns, I will send you 
 the money. 
 
 " I beg you to impress upon them that there is but one 
 certain and infallible way of avoiding debt, that is, first, to 
 determine to incur no expense, to defray which the money 
 is not in their pockets ; secondly, to pay the money imme- 
 diately for everytliing they get, and for every expense they 
 incur. They will then be certain that everything they have 
 is their own, and they will know at all times what they can 
 and what they cannot do. There is nothing so easy, provided 
 they begin in time ; and I give them these ample allowances, 
 and pay them beforehand, purposelj^ that they may at once 
 pay for everything the moment they get it. 
 
 " They should, in adopting this system, advert to the 
 expenses of the college, which they have to defray them- 
 selves, their servants' wages and clothes, the keep of their 
 horses, and lay by a sufficiency to defray their expenses till 
 the 1st January. The remainder will be their own, and 
 they will lay it out as they please ; observing always, that 
 if this remainder is laid out uselessly or idly, and they act 
 up rigidly to the system of paying for everything at the 
 time they get it, they may want clothes or other necessaries, 
 or reasonable gratifications, before the quarter will expire. 
 
 " I think it best to remind them of all this, because I 
 hope that they and I will have no further discussion upon 
 these subjects. In respect of their studies, I am very 
 anxious about their mathematics, as essential to those who 
 serve in the army. If you will let me know what tlie course 
 is in the university, I will give you my opinion upon other 
 matters. They should likewise have a perfect knowledge of 
 modern geography and history, of course, but I shall hear 
 further from you on these points. I will go and see them 
 shortly after they shall have gone to Oxford, where they 
 ought to be on the 1-ith. They had better probably go to
 
 1850.] LORD WELLESLEY'S LETTER. 437 
 
 Strathfieldsaye to make their arrangements for their deparr- 
 ure, as soon as you will receive this letter. 
 
 " I wish yoix would let each of them keep a copy of this 
 letter, and send me one." 
 
 Though not himself a scholar, the Duke was remarkably 
 alive to the charm of scholarship, and seemed to value his 
 brother, Lord Wellesley, almost more for his success at 
 Eton than for any of the great deeds which he performed 
 in after years. He was, therefore, very anxious that his 
 sons should excel in all their school and college exercises, 
 and was in the habit of requiring from them weekly reports 
 of their course of study, and of the themes and verses 
 which they wrote. The latter he sent, from time to time, 
 to Lord Wellesley, in order to obtain his corrections and 
 opinion ; and on many of the former, which now lie before 
 me, his own remarks in pencil remain. One of Lord Wel- 
 lesley's answers to these communications from the Duke 
 will, I am sure, be read with interest. 
 
 " Eichmond, 2nd May, 1821. 
 
 " My dear Arthur, 
 
 " I was much gratified by your kind attention in 
 sending me the exercises of your soni^. I could not answer 
 your letter until I had examined them carefully ; they were 
 naturally very interesting to me, and they have afforded me 
 sincere pleasure. 
 
 " I assure you that they are superior in a high degree to 
 the ordinary scale of exercises of that class during my time. 
 It was a great satisfaction to me to observe the regular 
 progress of improvement, especially in Douro's exercises, 
 from the first to the last copy of verses. Douro's verses, 
 upon the character of Homer's poetry, are highly creditable, 
 and his four concluding verses of that exercise display con- 
 siderable spirit and original thought. Tell him from me 
 that the boy who admires Homer must have made great 
 proficiency. 
 
 " Charles's exercises are very promising, and I think 
 he has already attained a sense of the harmony of Latin
 
 438 THE DUKE AND THE LADY TRESPASSER. [18.:0, 
 
 verse. There are two copies marked ' Gerald Wellesley ;' I 
 suppose tlie author is Henry's boy ; they are also very cre- 
 ditable for the fourth form. 
 
 " I consider these efforts as the true foundation of dis- 
 tinction in the progress of life. Xot that I should wish to 
 see your sons distinguished as writers of Latin verses in 
 future times ; but these exercises at school are essential to 
 the accurate knowledge of the great fountain of ancient 
 genius, science, and taste, as well as of the ancient examples 
 of virtue, honour, and glory. The habit of composition iu 
 the ancient languages is most useful, if not absolutely ne- 
 cessary, to those who desire completely to understand those 
 languages ; at all events, it is useful to employ young per- 
 sons iu acquiring such accomplishments, and it is satisfac- 
 tory to find that they apply themselves with the zeal and 
 success which these exercises display. 
 
 " Always, my dear Arthur, 
 
 "Yours most affectionately, 
 
 " Wellesley. 
 
 " N.B. The Latin verses of your boys are much more 
 correct and better in every respect than those published by 
 the eigliih loonder of the icorhl, Master Dallas. 
 
 There was an order against strangers wandering from the 
 road which leads up to the gate, and getting into the grounds 
 and shrubberies about "Wahner Castle. It happened, on one 
 occasion, that a lady, ignorant of the existence of that order, 
 strayed into the paddock Avith two children, and was, as a 
 matter of course, warned off by one of the servants. The 
 Duke rode up just as the warning was administered, and 
 asking what was the matter, received from the lady an ac- 
 count of the mistake which she had committed, with a nerv- 
 ous apology for the same. " Oh, never mind, never mind," 
 was his answer. " You're quite welcome to go where you 
 will. And, by the by, bring the children here to-iiiorrow at 
 one o'clock, .and I'll show them all about the place myself" 
 
 The lady came, as desired, and was delighted to find that 
 the Duke had prepared a dinner for her children, and lunch 
 for herself, with fruit. The young peoj)lc ate theii' fiU, and 
 
 A
 
 1S50.] THE DUKE'S MUXIFICEXCE. 439 
 
 the Duke, after showing tliem tliroiigli the castle, and over 
 the garden, hung a hall-sovereign suspended from a hlue 
 ribbon round each of their necks, before he sent them away. 
 "Without doubt these gold medals will be highly prized, not 
 by the individuals only who wore them on that day, but by 
 their descendants, to many generations, if they have any. 
 
 The Duke's temper, naturally quick, but in the vigour of 
 his days kept under marvellous control, became more irritable 
 as the infirmities of age grew upon him ; and he found it 
 impossible, sometimes, to restrain it. But he never gave 
 Avay to a burst of passion without regretting it, and show- 
 ing, if the opportunity offered, by some unmistakeable proof, 
 that he had wounded himself more than he had wounded 
 others. This was particularly the case in his dealings with 
 his valet, one of the most faithful domestics that ever wait- 
 ed upon a great man. Take the following example. 
 
 The Duke's bell sounded very violently, and when the 
 servant entered, he was seen standing beside his table. 
 " What have you done with the book I was reading last 
 night ? I laid it there, — just there ! " striking the table 
 with his hand, " and you have taken it away. What have 
 you done with it ? " " I never saw it, your Grace ; I never 
 touched it." " But you must have seen it, and you did 
 touch it ; where is it ? " And then he would get into a 
 towering passion, and walk up and down the room, blaming 
 everybody, till the servant retired. By and by he would 
 recollect that he had taken it into another room and left it 
 there ; upon which he would ring the bell again, and on the 
 servant showing himself, he would ask some ordinary ques- 
 tion. The answer being given, he would reply in a tone of 
 marked kindness, " Thank you, I am much obliged to you." 
 The valet perfectly understood that this was as much as if 
 he had said, " I've done you wrong, pray forgive me." 
 
 The Duke's liberality to persons in distress was unbound- 
 ed, and, contrary to all precedent, seemed to increase with 
 his years. He subscribed also, but quietly, to many charit- 
 able institutions, and especially to orphan asylums, assigning 
 as his reason that he had been the involuntary means of 
 making many orphans, and was therefore bound to do what
 
 110 SOMETIMES COMrLAINS. [1852. 
 
 he could to provide for them. That he was imposed upon 
 continually is quite true, and it is equally true that he was 
 not blind to these acts of imposition ; yet they never dried 
 up the springs of his benevolence. One among many in- 
 stances of the extent to which he suffered himself to be 
 plundered, obtained publicity in consequence of the ease 
 having been brought into a police-court ; yet w^e question 
 whether even that has been correctly narrated. It was 
 this : — 
 
 A band of noted impostors had for months made the Duke 
 their prey. They wrote to him, now, in the character of 
 officers' widows ; now, as the daughters of officers ; now, as 
 ladies who had fallen from virtue, and were anxious to re- 
 gain a place in society ; and on every occasion he sent them 
 money. At last the Duke's valet, whose suspicions had 
 been awakened by the similarity of the handwriting on 
 letters to which registered replies were returned, commu- 
 nicated with the Mendicity Office, and the plot being dis- 
 covered, the parties to it were arraigned before the magis- 
 trate, and coinmitted to prison. We must not forget to 
 add that the Duke never became aware of Kendall's inter- 
 ference in the matter. Had such a discovery been effected, 
 the probabilities are that Kendall's connection with his 
 master would have ceased immediately. And yet the Duke 
 used to complain in his private letters of the endless appli- 
 cations that were made to him, and of the spirit which 
 seemed to suggest them, as thus : — 
 
 " September 8th, 1852. 
 " It is certainly very curious that every blackguard beg- 
 gar, male or female, no matter of what country, considers it 
 the right of each to demand money from me ! and that 
 every lady or gentleman, wliether I am acquainted with 
 them or not, considers tliat he has a right to demand the 
 service of my power and influence in favour of some rela- 
 tion of the writer, or that, if I have any office, or advantage, 
 or benefit in my gift or at my disposal, the applicant con- 
 siders himself as exceedingly ill-treated if I do not dispose 
 of the same as he desires. I am certain it is generally un-
 
 1852.J THE DUKE'S HOSPITALITY. 441 
 
 derstood that I am a good-natured man, who will do any- 
 thing ; and that moreover I have been highly rewarded and 
 am still in the public service, and that everything I have 
 belongs to the public ; as cei'tainly wovdd be the case if I 
 were an emancipated slave. I cannot otherwise account for 
 the demands made upon me." 
 
 Another little anecdote, illustrative of the same fact, may 
 not be uninteresting. Mr Arbuthnot went one morning 
 into the Duke's room, and found him stuffing a handful of 
 bank notes into several envelopes. " What are you doing, 
 Duke ? " " Doing ? Doing what I am obliged to do every 
 day. It would take the wealth of the Indies to meet all the 
 demands that are made upon me." 
 
 The Duke's hospitality to his neighbours in "Walmer, and 
 to the officers of the regiments quartered there and at 
 Dover, was great. Two or three times a week, during his 
 autumnal residence in Kent, he had dinner parties, which 
 all who were present at them enjoyed, because they seemed 
 to be agreeable to their host. He was most particular, too, 
 on such occasions, not to disappoint his guests, even if he 
 should himself be put to inconvenience. It happened, on 
 one occasion, that he invited, as he supposed, all the officers 
 not on duty in Dover Castle to dine with him. Captain 
 "Watts, the captain of "Walmer Castle, happened to discover 
 that one young officer had been accidentally passed over, and 
 knowing how keen the disappointment to the youth would 
 be, he ventured to state the circumstance to the Duke. 
 "How many are there to dinner?" was the Duke's reply; 
 and when informed that the table would hold an additional 
 guest, he said, " By all means, write and invite him too." 
 
 On another day, when the officers from "Walmer barracks 
 had been invited, the Duke was taken, about four in the 
 afternoon, with one of those fits to which in later years he 
 had become liable. As he was extremely ill, his servants, 
 when he rallied a little, were naturally desirous of putting 
 off the dinner. Captain Watts accordingly went to his 
 bed-room, and made the proposal ; but the Duke would not 
 hear of it. "Let the dinner go on:" and the dinner did
 
 412 THE DUKE AND THE ARTISTS. [1S52. 
 
 go on, Captain "Watts and Dr M'Artluir doing the honours 
 of the table. 
 
 One of the common penalties of greatness the Duke 
 was called upon to pay more frequeiitly than perhaps any 
 Englishman of modern times. He sat to painters and 
 sculptors over and over again ; and, on the whole, bore the 
 infliction patiently. Once or twice it is recorded that his 
 temper got the better of him ; but this befell only when 
 the artist was, or the Duke believed him to be, un punctual 
 in keeping his engagements. Grenerally speaking, he was 
 composed, and sufiiciently in good humour. Among others 
 he sat to Leslie, who had received a royal command to 
 paint the ceremony of the coronation, introducing portraits 
 of the principal persons present. Leslie resided then at 
 Abercorn Place, in one of the districts of St John's Wood ; 
 and the Duke, immediately on entering the studio, re- 
 marked, " It's a long way to come, Mr Leslie — five miles." 
 " No, sir," was the answer, " not quite so far as that. But 
 if your Grace finds it inconvenient to come to me, I can 
 easily go to Apsley House." " Very well," replied the 
 Duke : and to Apsley House Leslie accordingly went the 
 very next day appointed for a sitting. He was greeted thus : 
 " Well, don't you find it a long way to come — five miles ? " 
 Either on this or some other occasion the Duke, after 
 having ascertained how the artist wished him to sit, ob- 
 served, " Now, mind the shape of rny head. It's a square 
 head. I know it, for Chantry told me so."* 
 
 The single-mindedness of such a remark would excite our 
 astonishment were the story told of any other man than the 
 Duke, but that perfect simplicity was one of the peculiari- 
 ties of his nature was remarkably illustrated on the occa- 
 sion of a morning visit which he 2)aid to Mr Croker, during 
 his temporary sojourn in England at an early stage in the 
 Peninsular war. The municipality of Lisbon, grateful for 
 the deliverance of their country from Junot's army, had 
 requested Sir Arthur Wellesley to sit for his portrait ; and, 
 the portrait being afterwards engraved, the words " Yictoe 
 
 * Haydon's account of his own reception atTValmcr Castle will be familiar 
 to all wiio have read Tom Taylor's biography of that remarkable man.
 
 1832.] THE DUKE AS A LxVNDLORD. 443 
 
 Invictus " were printed beneatli. Mr Croker, by some 
 means or another, obtained a copy of tbis engraving, which 
 he showed to Sir Arthur ; whereupon Sir Arthur wrote 
 with his pencil under the motto, " Don't halloo till you're 
 out of the wood." The portrait, with the Duke's pencil 
 criticism attached to it, is still, I believe, in Mrs Croker's 
 possession. 
 
 As a landlord, the Duke was liberal and very considerate. 
 In order to prevent all ground of clashing between the ten- 
 antry and the incumbent of Strathfieldsaye, he charged him- 
 self, long before the bill for the commutation of tithes came 
 into force, with the payment of the latter. He laid out 
 large sums, also, in draining and improving the land, and in 
 rebuilding and putting into complete repair all the farms, 
 homesteads, and cottages on the estate. Indeed, he never 
 applied to his own use one farthing of the rents which, 
 accrued from his Hampshire property. " I do this," he 
 observed, " out of consideration for future Dukes of Welling- 
 ton. I am a rich man, because I have my pay as com- 
 mander-in-chief, and hold other offices under Grovernment. 
 My successor will not have these sources of income, and I 
 therefore consider it my duty to lay by for him all that is 
 not required out of my rents to put and keep the property 
 in perfect order." 
 
 Of the Duke's rigid integrity an instance occurred in re- 
 ference to this estate, which is well worth placing on record. 
 Some farm adjoining to his lands was for sale, and his agent 
 negotiated for him the purchase. Having concluded the 
 business, he went to the Duke, and told him that he had 
 made a capital bargain. " What do you mean ? " asked the 
 Duke. " Why, your Grace, I have got the farm for so 
 much, and I know it to be worth at least so much more." 
 " Are you quite sure of that ? " " Quite sure, your Grrace, 
 for I have carefully surveyed it." " Very well, then, pay 
 the gentleman from me the balance between what you have 
 already given and the real value of the estate ; " and it was 
 done. 
 
 It is not to be supposed that the Duke, though he with- 
 drew himself from the turmoil of party politics, was therefore
 
 4U Ills ANXIETY ABOUT NATIONAL DEFENCES. [1852. 
 
 forgetful of the wants of the country, or indifferent to them. 
 A subject which had long been present to his mind, now ap- 
 peared well-nigh to engross it. He considered that England 
 lay at the mercy of any great continental Power which pos- 
 sessed a navy, and was willing to run some risks in order to 
 attack her ; and looking to the political state of the world, 
 and remembering the occasions on which, since the accession 
 of Louis Philippe, war between Prance and England seemed 
 imminent, the thought of what might have befallen, and 
 would befall, were some future quarrel to be pushed to an 
 extremity, haunted him like a iiightmare. It was a subject 
 on which he not only spoke freely to all who approached 
 him, but about which he communicated in memoranda, and 
 in official and private letters, with, almost every member of 
 the Groverument. At last, being requested to make sug- 
 gestions, he drew up a paper, wherein he sketcbed a plan 
 for the preparation of works, purely defensive. It cannot 
 be said that his suggestions were entirely disregarded, for 
 ministers acknowledged the receipt of the document with 
 thanks, and submitted it to the usual routine of official cri- 
 ticism. But time passed without any measures of defence 
 being adopted, and by and by the country was electrified by 
 the appearance in the Times newspaper of an able and ai"gu- 
 mentative letter, bearing the Duke's signature. Now of all 
 living men, he was known to be the last who would lightly 
 appeal on such a oubject to sucli a tribunal. The effect 
 therefore of his letter to Sir John Burgoyne was prodigious, 
 and though it soon transpired that the MS. had fallen into 
 unsafe hands, the amount of good accomplished by it more 
 than made up for the error of its publication. The people 
 of England believed that they were not safe, and the Govern- 
 ment set about tlioso necessary arrangements which are still 
 only in progress. 
 
 Though the Duke liad accepted Louis Philippe as head of 
 the Erench Government, he seems never to have trusted 
 him. Kemembering liow, in 1815, the Duke of Orleans had 
 plotted to supplant the elder branch of his own family, he 
 gave tlio citizen King little credit for patriotism in any of 
 his proceedings. And this measure of distrust attained its
 
 1852.] DISTRUST OF LOUIS PHILIPrE. 445 
 
 fulness, "when the wretched Spanish marriages were negoti- 
 ated. He spoke of that transaction as discreditable iu itself, 
 and towards England positively dishonest, and he agreed 
 with all who expressed an opinion that England ought to 
 have prevented the consummation of the wrong, even if an 
 appeal to arms had been necessary. But then came the 
 question, was England in a condition to appeal to arms ? 
 " We are not," he wrote, " in a state to risk even the small- 
 est manifestation of angry feeling on this or any other sub- 
 ject. We must first put our country in that reasonable 
 state of defence in which it was put after the seven years' 
 war, in which it was before the Erench revolutionary war, 
 and in which it ought always to have been kept, particularly 
 in late years ; but in which it would almost appear that it 
 had been the object of Grovernment in modern times not to 
 place it. The neglect of these necessaries has, in my opin- 
 ion, been the cause, not only of these late transactions, but 
 of many others. But I for one should regret to see any 
 manifestations of feeling upon these matters, until I should 
 be certain that we could resent the feeHng which might be 
 manifested on the other side. These are melancholy topics."* 
 It happened one day, in the autumn of 1846, the Duke 
 being then at Walmer, that the conversation at table turned 
 upon certain alarmist articles which had just made their ap- 
 pearance in the Times. A good many officers of the gar- 
 rison were present, when a gentleman, not an ofiicer, put 
 the question, " But, Duke, do you really think that an in- 
 vasion of England from Erance is possible ?" " Possible ! " 
 replied the Duke, " is anything impossible ? Eead the 
 newspapers." He said no more Avhile dinner lasted ; but 
 when the company had retired to the drawing-room, he took 
 his questioner apart, and entered with him in the fullest 
 manner into the whole subject. " And I'll tell you what," 
 he observed, " the French would have an immense advantage 
 over us, even if we were prepared to oppose a landing, be- 
 cause they would be able to see further and better than we." 
 " How is that ? " was the natural question. " Why thus. 
 They start at midnight, and arrive ofi:' our coast just before 
 * MS. correspondence.
 
 44G niS LARGE CORRESPONDENCE. [1852. 
 
 sunrise. The da^^^l, Avhich renders everything clear to them, 
 will not enable lis to observe what they are about. They 
 will have a full half-hour of light before we shall be able to 
 distinguish between the line of beach and the line of sea ; 
 far less to observe boats in motion. And let me tell you, 
 that in calm weather, and with preparations well settled be- 
 forehand, a great deal may be done towards throwing troops 
 ashore on an open beach in half an hour." 
 
 It was the Duke's habit, when any matter took fast hold 
 of his attention, to commit his thoughts to paper. He was 
 ready, likewise, when consulted by others, to give his advice, 
 or to record his judgment, in writing, at great length. 
 Sometimes he would even take the trouble, at the request of 
 friends whom he was willing to oblige, to discuss in memo- 
 randa, subjects on which they desired to ascertain his opin- 
 ions. It was in this spirit, and to gratify Colonel Gurwood, 
 that he di'ew out his masterly criticism on M. Clausewitz's 
 book ; and an able parallel between his own character as a 
 general and that of the Duke of Marlborough, written at 
 the desii'e of the present Earl of Stanhope, is extant, and in 
 Lord Stanhope's possession. Earely, indeed, if ever, has a 
 man, so much occupied as he, found time for half the amount 
 of xion-offieial authorship into which he entered. His ordin- 
 ary chit-chat letters were alone sufficient to fill up the day 
 of many, who would have resented the charge, had they 
 been accused, of spending any portion of their lives in sheer 
 idleness. Yet he had always leisure to join in the inter- 
 course of society ; and never failed to keep an engagement, 
 be it ever so little to his taste, into which he had entered. 
 
 The Duke's letters Avritten about the period of the over- 
 throw of the monarchy and the establishment for the second 
 time of a republic in Prance, show with what intense alarm 
 he witnessed that movement. They show also that age had 
 not obscui'ed the acuteness of his perceptions. But the 
 chief cause of anxiety Avas lest England or the continental 
 Powers should do anything to precipitate a war. There was 
 nothing in the treaty of Vienna wliich, according to his 
 view of the matter, pledged the Allies to dictate to France 
 under what form of Government she should live. And if
 
 1848.] NOT OPPOSED TO LOUIS NAPOLEOX. 447 
 
 tliere had been, the acquiesceuce of Europe in the substitu- 
 tion of an Orleanist for the old dynasty sufficed, in his 
 opinion, to set it aside. Even the election of Louis Napo- 
 leon to the presidential chair, however much it may have 
 surprised, awakened in him no disposition to counsel an ap- 
 peal to arms. " We went to war with Erance," he used to 
 say, " in 1793, not because she chose to set up Eepublicau 
 institutions for herself, but because she seemed determined 
 to impose them upon us, and upon all the world besides. 
 And we continued the war till Buonaparte was put down, 
 because with him upon the throne there was no security for 
 the peace of Europe. But Erance shows no sign, as yet, 
 of that restless propagandism which made her so trouble- 
 some and dangerous fifty years ago, and till she do so I am 
 of opinion we are bound to apply to her case, as much as to 
 the cases of other nations, the doctrine of non-intervention, 
 on which we seem all to be agreed. Hence when invited 
 by the Erench minister to dine with him at the embassy, 
 on what is called Napoleon's fete-day, he not only accepted 
 the invitation, but after dinner proposed the health of Prince 
 Louis Napoleon as President of the Erench Eepublic. I 
 have reason to believe that nothing which occurred in Eng- 
 land at that time gave greater satisfaction in Paris than this 
 act of wise coui'tesy on the part of the Duke. How far he 
 would have approved of the re-establishment of the Empire, 
 or of the means taken to bring it about, I cannot undertake 
 to say ; but it seems to me probable that other consider- 
 ations woiild have yielded to that love of peace, which at 
 every stage in his career was present with him, and which 
 in the decline of life had become well-nigh a passion. 
 
 The last public service rendered to his country by the 
 Duke occurred in April, 1848, when London was threat- 
 ened, or was supposed to be threatened, by a Chartist re- 
 bellion. That any real danger attended the entrance of 
 Eergus O'Connor and his rabble into the city nobody now 
 supposes, but the invasion of a rich and peaceful city, even 
 by a rabble, is a matter not lightly to be regarded, and so 
 the Duke thought. He made, therefore, such arrangements 
 of the military force at his disposal that after providing for
 
 443 THE CHAETIST BUBBLE. [1818. 
 
 the safety of the Bank, the Palace, and the public offices, 
 enough was left to hold the bridges, and to keep the crowd 
 pent helplessly up on Kennington Common, where from 
 all quarters they had assembled. Never in the palmiest 
 days of his youth had that great man, now 79 years of age, 
 been more self-possessed and energetic. The fire of other 
 years seemed to have burst up again. The troops were all 
 stationed where nobody saw them ; the police alone, with 
 thousands of special constables, appeared to keep the peace, 
 and the air-bladder collapsed. 
 
 My tale of the life of this great and good man is drawing 
 to a close. Besides suppressing the Chartist movement of 
 1848, he gave orders for that distribution of the military 
 force in Ireland which effectually kept down the rebellious 
 spirit of the people there ; inflamed though it was by the 
 speeches and writings of a knot of very clever but very 
 wrong-headed journalists. His paper on that subject, which 
 happily survives, exhibits the wonderful accuracy of his re- 
 collection, not in regard to the leading features of the coun- 
 try alone, but in reference to obscure streets and alleys in 
 Dublin and other towns, which he could have had no oppor- 
 tunity of visiting for upwards of half a century. In 1849 
 he supported, with his usual heartiness and good feeling, the 
 vote of thanks which was passed in the House of Lords to 
 Lord Gough, and the officers and men who had brought to 
 a glorious termination the war in the Punjaub. In 1850 
 he referred forcibly, but in the best taste, to the loss which 
 the country had just sustained by the death of Sir Robert 
 Peel. In 1851 he was chiefly engaged in defending the 
 privileges of the University of Oxford, and in achieving that 
 modification in the constitution of the royal commission, 
 Avhich rendered it, as we have seen, so eff'ective for good. 
 But years in their progress were beginning to tell even, 
 upon him. His frame, once erect and athletic, had become 
 shrunken ; his hair grew thin and white, contrasting strongly 
 with the eyebrows, which retained much of their original 
 dark tinge to the last. And though the eye itself, when 
 lighted up, was still clear and piercing, the lines of old age 
 were strongly marked on every other feature of his face.
 
 1852.] CHANGE OF GOVERNMENT. 449 
 
 Fits of somnolency used to come over him also, and he was 
 no longer the indefatigable man of business that he used to 
 be. Por some time back he had stooped a good deal ; he 
 now began to totter in his walk. His seat on horseback, 
 never at any time a firm one, grew loose, and he reached 
 and descended from the saddle with difiiculty. Deafness 
 likewise increased upon him to a painful degree, so much so, 
 indeed, as to render society positively irksome ; and his 
 mind, though vigorous when any important or interesting 
 subject was presented to it, began visibly to stiffen. Still, 
 with the iron will which never deserted him, he struggled 
 agaiust the infirmities of the flesh, and kept them at bay. 
 When the Great Exhibition took place in 1851, he jDlayed 
 his part well in the pageant of its opening. Nor were 
 many public men more diligent than he in their after-visits 
 to the Crystal Palace. In the evening of the opening day 
 he dined with Miss Burdett Coutts, for whom he enter- 
 tained a sincere regard, and who was among the warmest of 
 his admirers ; and as it happened to be his birthday, the 
 Duke of Brabant, who was present, proposed that the com- 
 pany should drink his health. This was done some little 
 time after the ladies had withdrawn, and the compliment 
 was acknowledged very characteristically : " Grentlemen, 
 I am much obliged to you, and now let us go to the 
 ladies." 
 
 In 1852 the Administration was again changed. Lord 
 John Eussell, being defeated on a question of the militia 
 force of the country, resigned, and the Conservatives came 
 into power. The Parliament was in consequence dissolved; 
 but in spite of his acknowledged preference for the policy 
 of which Lord Derby w^as the exponent, the Duke took no 
 i:)art whatever in the elections which followed. He adhered 
 to his old principle, that they who endeavour by extraordi- 
 nary means to bias the minds of the constituency at such 
 seasons, are guilty of a wrong both to individual voters and 
 to the public ; and though urged to exert his influence, 
 both at Dover and Sandwich, in favour of the Grovernment 
 candidates, he refused. The Government party, as was 
 natural, complained that such refusal was unfair towards 
 
 29
 
 450 niS VERSION OF THE MOEDIXG. [1852. 
 
 them. But he acted on this as upon all occasions, from a 
 strong sense of duty, and took the reproaches which were 
 heaped upon him patiently. These, with many other topics 
 of passing interest, are freely discussed in his private cor- 
 respondence, which, so far from diminishing, appears to 
 have grown more voluminous as years increased upon him. 
 It may not be uninteresting if I subjoin one or two speci- 
 mens of the tone which pervaded this correspondence. 
 
 A letter full of feeling, written on his birthday, opens 
 thus : — 
 
 " London, 1st May, 1852. 
 
 " I have been all this morning receiving visits, and have 
 just now been down with Lady Douro as far as her house. 
 I was followed and saluted as I went through in the streets. 
 Cromwell's reflection occurred to me : They would readily 
 follow and pull me to pieces, if convicted of exerting undue 
 influence," &c. 
 
 Another of later date is curious, as giving his own ver- 
 sion of the attack made upon him by the mob in 1832. 
 After noticing an application from Dr Maltby, Bishop of 
 Durham, in favour of some man who desired an appoint- 
 ment imder the corporation of the Trinity House, on the 
 plea of services rendered, or assumed to have been rendered, 
 to himself personally on that day, the Duke proceeds : — 
 
 " The whole story is false. I picked up two soldiers, 
 who recognized me, and I jilaced one on each side of me, to 
 guard my legs and heels ; and I desired, if I halted, that 
 they should each of them fiice outwards, and prevent any- 
 body from approaching my heels. The soldiers were fol- 
 lowed by women, children, and men, waving their handker- 
 chiefs. Many men came out and off'ered me an asylum in 
 their houses. But I declined, saying, if I were to get in, 
 in what manner am I to get out again and go home ? All I 
 cared about Avas the loss of my way. If I had taken a 
 wrong turn, and had been obliged to return in the face of 
 the mob, I should have been destroyed. There was fortun-
 
 1852.] HIS LETTER TO THE BISHOP. 451 
 
 ately no mud in the streets, and nothing could be tKrown. 
 I passed some carts loaded with coals, with which I expected 
 to be pelted, but the head of the mob could not stop to get 
 the coals ; and those which followed, if they got any, could 
 not make their way to the head, in order to pelt me. One 
 gentleman followed me in a tilbury, and the groom now in 
 my service. I never discovered who that gentleman was. 
 I thought that he was of service to me, and that he intended 
 it. Certainly while he followed me, the mob could not 
 run in upon me." 
 
 It would be unjust to the Duke's memory, having thus 
 referred to his letter to the Bishop of Durham, were I to 
 withhold the letter itself. It was written on the 7th of 
 September, that just quoted on the 8th, and both bear date 
 Walmer Castle. 
 
 " My Lord Bishop, 
 
 " I have had the honour of receiving your lordship's 
 letter of the 6th instant. I perfectly recollect having been 
 followed by a mob from the Mint to Lincoln's Inn on the 
 18th of June, 1832. I have heard of individual acts of 
 many persons for my relief, but I am under the necessity 
 of confessing that I have no recollection of such acts during 
 the progress of the riot and pursuit. If I could recollect 
 such acts, I should personally feel very grateful. But, my 
 lord, I have been unanimously elected a Master of the Cor- 
 poration of the Trinity House. I believe many have as 
 good a right to it as I. I consider myself bound to perform 
 the duties in a view solely to the interests of the public 
 and the credit of the corporation, and I cannot use its 
 patronage to reward services rendered to myself personally 
 — ^particularly if I were in personal danger. But, moreover, 
 I never have decided upon any question of patronage at 
 the Trinity House, excej)ting when seated in my place at 
 the board, and I must decline," &c. 
 
 The Duke gave his usual Waterloo dinner this year on 
 the 18th of June, and it was remarked by all his guests, of 
 
 29 *
 
 452 AT WALMER. [1852. 
 
 w'liom the late Prince Consort was tlie only one who had not 
 shared with him the dangers and glories of the day, that 
 he had never on any previous occasion appeared more cheer- 
 ful, or more completely master of himself. He spoke, 
 likewise, in the House of Lords with great animation in 
 support of the Militia Bill, introduced into Parliament by 
 Mr Walpole. Tet the hand of death was already stretched 
 out towards him. His constitution, naturally robust, had 
 sustained a severe shock from repeated fits of catalepsy, the 
 first of which seized him in 1837, when riding on horseback 
 in Hyde Park. It was not so severe as to deprive him of 
 all command over himself, for he kept his seat and reached 
 home. But the groom observed, when he dismounted, that 
 he staggered, and he was supported to his own ajoartmeut, 
 where he lay down. Dr Hume was sent for, but before he 
 arrived the fit had passed away, and the Duke, treating the 
 matter very lightly, refused to take any medicine, and went 
 about his business as usual. From that time up to 1841 
 the fits frequently returned, and, on one or two occasions, 
 with such severity as to cause great alarm to his family and 
 friends. An opinion generally prevailed that the Duke con- 
 sented to have a seton introduced into his neck. This was 
 not the case ; but by a rigid attention to diet, and submis- 
 sion to such treatment as his medical attendants prescribed, 
 he managed to keep the disorder at bay, and the fits occur- 
 red more rarely and with less violence. Still the disease 
 was there, and both mind and body, more or less, suftered 
 from it. The irritability of his temper grew painfully upon 
 him, and even his generosity degenerated, on more than one 
 occasion, into weakness. 1 have elsewhere referred to this 
 subject, extracting, at the same time, a letter, which showed 
 that when deceived, he was deceived with his eyes open, for 
 he certainly did not believe half the stories of distress that 
 were conveyed to him. The letter in question was written 
 at Walraer Castle, to which place the Duke had repaired on 
 the 25th of August, apparently in his usual health. He 
 had previously gone down on the 7th, attended only by his 
 valet, in order to receive the Queen, should her Majesty be 
 disposed to land, on her progress from Osborne to Ostend.
 
 1852.] FOR THE LAST TIME. 453 
 
 But tlie Tx-eather proved boisterous, and her Majesty pre- 
 ferred staying on board the yacht, the Prince Consort only 
 coming on shore, and spending an hour with the Duke in 
 the Castle grounds. This was on the 10th of August, and 
 on the 11th, the royal squadron pursued its course, while 
 the Duke drove across to Dover, and there took the rail for 
 London. On the 25th, however, as has just been stated, 
 he returned, bringing with him his whole establishment of 
 servants, horses, and carriages, — a sufficient indication that 
 his autumnal sojourn was begun; and preparations were 
 immediately made to welcome and entertain guests, to whom 
 he appeared desirous of doing honour. 
 
 The guests in question were, the Grand Duke and Duchess 
 of Mecklenburg-Strelitz, — the latter a Russian princess, 
 and daughter of the late Grand Duke Michael. They 
 reached the castle on the 26th, and were met at dinner bv 
 Baron Brunnow, the Russian minister at the court of St 
 James's, and his private secretary ; by the Earl of Clanwil- 
 liam, captain of Deal Castle, with the Countess, and their 
 daughter. Lady Selina Meade ; by Admiral Sir John Hill, 
 captain of Sandown Castle ; Captain Vincent, R.N., captain 
 of Sandgate Castle ; and Captain Watts, captain of Walmer 
 Castle. " I never," says Captain "Watts, " saw the Duke in 
 better health or spirits. In the evening, soon after we left 
 the dining-room, the Grand Duke asked me whether there 
 was not a particularly good picture of the Duke in Walmer 
 Castle ? I replied that there was no picture, but a very 
 good engraving, — that it hung in the dining-room, and that 
 I had often heard the Duke say, that he considered it the 
 best likeness of himself that had ever been taken. The 
 Grand Duke requested me to return with him to the dining- 
 room, that he might examine the engraving ; and after he 
 had gazed at it for some time, remarked that the Duchess 
 ought likewise to see it. He went immediately into the 
 drawing-room to fetch her ; whereupon the Diike himself 
 came back with them, and observing what the purpose was 
 which brought them into the dining-room, he said to the 
 Duchess in French, ' That is the very best likeness that was 
 ever taken of me.' He added after a short pause, ' Perhaps
 
 454 THE E>; GRAYING. [1852. 
 
 you •would like to possess it.' The offer was at once and 
 gladly accepted ; upon which he rang the bell, and desired 
 the butler to take the engraving out of the frame, and to 
 bring it to him next morning, that he might inscribe his 
 name at the bottom. Everything was done as the Duke 
 directed. The engraving was taken from the frame ; the 
 Duke subscribed it with his name ; it was then carefully 
 packed, and probably hangs at this hour in one of the apart- 
 ments of the palace at Mecklenburg." 
 
 Two incidents marked the progress of this little affair, of 
 sufficient importance, as it seems to me, to justify the mi- 
 nuteness with which I have detailed it. The first is, that 
 when the engraving was brought to the Duke in the morn- 
 ing, in order that he might subscribe it, he did what he was 
 never known on any previous occasion to have done ; he 
 tried the pen which was put into his hand before making 
 use of it. The next, that though he wrote by that night's 
 post to his publisher in London, for a fac-simile of the en- 
 graving, wherewith to fill the vacant frame, his order was 
 not executed. The fact is, that the engraving which he had 
 given away was what is called a proof engraving, of which 
 no stock remained on hand. Great pains were taken to 
 seek for a copy in various directions, but without success ; 
 and now among the effigies of other lords warden that of 
 the Duke hangs in the dining-room at Walmer Castle, not a 
 proof, but a common engraving, which did not reach its 
 place till the day after the great original had ceased to take 
 interest in sublunary affairs. 
 
 On the 28th, a little before noon, the G-rand Duke and 
 Duchess took their departure, the Duke driving the latter 
 to Dover in a pony carriage. He returned after seeing 
 them on board the packet, and spent the evening alone. 
 He never from that day received any more guests at his 
 table ; indeed, up to the 8th of September, he remained, 
 with liis domestics, the sole occupant of the Castle. Daily, 
 however, he might be seen riding or walking about, and 
 once he went as far as Folkestone. It was to visit Mr 
 Croker, who had removed thither in search of that health 
 which was never to be restored to him again ; and the
 
 1852.] HIS LAST LETTER ARRIVES. 455 
 
 Duke's movements being dependent on tlie return of the 
 train to Dover, they spent some hours together. Mr Croker, 
 ill as he was, made a note of the conversation which passed 
 between them, and sent copies of it to several of the Duke's 
 friends. It related almost entirely to times gone by, and 
 to persons long removed fi^om the scene of life. It was ftdl 
 of interest, of course, to the pair who joined in it ; and as 
 evincing the clearness of the Duke's mind when turned to 
 such subjects, the members of his own family, and the few 
 individuals without that circle, to whom names and dates of 
 more than sixty years' standing are familiar, cannot fail to 
 value such a record. But the general reader would scarcely 
 care to have it brought before him, and if it were so brought 
 would probably not understand it. 
 
 On the 8th of September, the Duke's solitude was 
 broken in upon by the arrival of his second son, Lord 
 Charles Wellesley, accompanied by Lady Charles and their 
 children. This was a great delight to the Duke ; for, inde- 
 pendently of his attachment to the parents, he wa^ exceed- 
 ingly fond of his grandchildren, and often made them his 
 companions in the strolls which he took through the 
 grounds, or to and fro along the terrace-walk, which runs 
 between the Castle and the sea. In other respects, he pur- 
 sued his usual course, devoting a portion of each morning to 
 his private correspondence, while the evenings were spent 
 chiefly in reading. One out of the many letters written by 
 him at this time, contains a sentence which is at least re- 
 markable ; and which, if the mind of the reader be prone 
 to superstition, may even appear to have been ominous. 
 On the 12th of September he wrote thus : — " I had a letter 
 this morning from a madman, who announces that he is a 
 messenger from the Lord, and will deliver his message to 
 me to-morrow morning : we shall see." Who the writer 
 was has never been ascertained, but the message from the 
 Lord was already on its way. 
 
 The Duke took more than his usual amount of exercise 
 on the 13th, and ate a good dinner with much relish. Wine 
 he had long given up, but he drank his iced water,' as his 
 custom was, and retired to bed, apparently in excellent
 
 456 HIS ILLNESS. [1852. 
 
 health, about half-past eleven o'clock. He was always an 
 early riser, and his valet went at six in the morning of the 
 14th to call him. He appeared, however, to be sleeping 
 heavily ; and the servant, finding that he did not awake, 
 though the fire was stirred, and the fire-irons clashed toge- 
 ther, thought that it would be a pity to disturb his master, 
 and withdrew again. Soon afterwards one of the maids met 
 him, and said she was afraid that the Duke was ill, for she 
 thought that she had heard him groan. The valet repaired 
 at once to his master's chamber, and opening the shutters, 
 said, " It is getting quite late, your Grace ; it is past seven 
 o'clock." " Is it ? " replied the Duke in his usual tone of 
 voice. " Do you know where the apothecary lives ? " 
 " Yes, your Grace." " Then send and let him know that 
 I should like to see him. I don't feel quite well, and I will 
 lie still till he comes." 
 
 This was such an admission as the Duke had never been 
 known under similar circumstances to make, and it created 
 proportionable alarm. A messenger was accordingly de- 
 spatched on horseback for Mr Hulke, of Deal, who soon 
 arrived, and was introduced into the Duke's apartment. 
 Mr Hulke examined his patient, looking at the tongue and 
 feeling the pulse ; and having pronounced that there was no 
 ground for apprehension, advised that he should take a cup 
 of tea, and remain quiet. He prescribed no medicine, be- 
 cause he considered that none was required ; for the Duke's 
 stomach seemed to have relieved itself during the night, 
 and rest was all that appeared necessary to restore him. 
 Mr Hulke, therefore, took his leave, and a cup of tea was 
 given to the Duke as soon as it could be got ready. It 
 operated upon him, after a brief interval, like an emetic, 
 and he became very restless and uneasy. By this time the 
 whole houseliold \Aas disturbed, and Lord and Lady Charles 
 came into the bed-room, whither also Captain AYatts soon 
 followed. They all saw that this was no passing fit of in- 
 disposition, and at once sent off fresh messengers in search 
 both of Mr Hulke and of Dr M' Arthur. The former after 
 a brief interval arrived ; the latter, who happened to be 
 from home, did not come till later. An emetic was given,
 
 . 852.] EXPIRES. 457 
 
 ■whicli, however, produced no amelioration of the symptoms, 
 but the reA'erse ; and then calomel, which it appeared had 
 never failed before in relieving such attacks, was adminis- 
 tered. Probably neither calomel nor any other remedy, no 
 matter when applied, would have been of the smallest avail. 
 The Duke's hour was come ; and though, with the determin- 
 ation of purpose which belonged to his nature, he seemed 
 to put it from him, the summons had gone forth which 
 admits of no baffling. His anxious attendants perceiving 
 that he breathed with increased difficulty, and appeared 
 otherwise to suffer, lifted him out of bed, and placed him 
 in an easy-chair. Nothing was gained by that change of 
 position ; he never rallied. The strong will kept death at 
 bay till towards seven o'clock in the evening ; but physical 
 power was wanting to repel him altogether. A fit came on, 
 similar in every respect to the worst of those to which he 
 had formerly been subject, and after a few convulsive strug- 
 gles he ceased to breathe. Yet so calm and tranquil was 
 his departure ; so little was he changed, even in appear- 
 ance, that not till a mirror had been held up before his 
 face, could those by whom he was surrounded tell that life 
 Avas extinct. 
 
 The alarming nature of the attack under which the Duke 
 Avas suffering no sooner became apparent, than telegraphic 
 despatches were sent off to London for Dr Ferguson and Dr 
 Hume. Both, unfortunately, happened to be in Scotland ; 
 and, after considerable delay, Dr Williams was requested to 
 go down to Walmer. He took the first train which stai'ted, 
 but could not reach the Castle tUl all was over. He found 
 but the mortal remains of his illustrious patient laid out upon 
 the little camp bed, in which while living he usually slept ; 
 and a household plunged in the very depths of sorrow and 
 consternation. 
 
 The Marquis of Douro, the Duke's eldest son, chanced to 
 be abroad at the time of his father's death. He was imme- 
 diately informed by telegraph of the calamity which had be- 
 fallen, and travelling post, he arrived at the Castle on the 
 17th. "We draw a veil over all that followed. He, himself, 
 had often been heard to say, " Where the tree falls, there let
 
 458 LIES IX STATE. [1852. 
 
 it lie," and had his words been fulfilled, he would have 
 rested now in a humble grave in the churchyard of Walmer. 
 But public feeling would not have it so. The great Duke 
 had been the property of the nation while he lived, and the 
 nation claimed the right of disposing of his remains now that 
 he was dead. It was determined that a public funeral 
 should mark the sense of the people's reverence for his 
 memory and of their grief for his loss. But time was needed 
 to mature and complete the necessary preparations, and the 
 body, being enclosed in a shell, was therefore left for a while 
 under proper care in the Castle. A guard of honour, com- 
 posed of a portion of his own rifle regiment, did duty over 
 it. The Castle flag was hoisted daily half-mast high, and 
 on the 9th and 10th of November the inhabitants of Deal 
 and Walmer and its vicinity were admitted to take their last 
 look at his remains, as they lay there in state. Upwards 
 of 9000 persons availed themselves of this privilege, and all, 
 without exception, evinced unmistakable proofs of reverence, 
 many of deep emotion. 
 
 At six in the evening of the 10th, Lord Douro, the pre- 
 sent Duke, arrived, accompanied by Lord Arthur Hay, 
 and by a gentleman from the Lord Chamberlain's ofiice, 
 who had been directed to superintend the removal of the 
 body from Walmer to London. It was placed upon a 
 hearse, and conveyed by torchlight to the railway station, a 
 guard of the Rifle Brigade attending it, and the batteries at 
 Walmer and Deal Castle firing minute guns. Sandown Cas- 
 tle took up the melancholy salute as the train, with its 
 sacred burden, swept by ; and, about half-past twelve, the 
 hearse, with its attendants, reached the Bricklayers' Arms. 
 Here a squadron of the 2nd Life Guards was in waiting 
 to receive them, and once more, by the dim light of torches, 
 the melancholy cortege passed on. INLany a Anndow was 
 thrown up, that men might gaze on the cavalcade as it 
 moved through the streets ; and few, whom the unaccus- 
 tomed tramp of horses had roused from their slumbers, 
 slept again that night, except with spirits saddened and 
 subdued. 
 
 The procession reached Chelsea about tliree in the morning,
 
 1852.] IN CHELSEA HOSPITAL. 459 
 
 •uheu the coffin containmg the body was carried into the 
 hall of the Eoyal Military Hospital. That noble apartment, 
 as well as the chapel, had been previonsly hnng with black, 
 and was now lighted only by waxen tapers, placed here and 
 there in silver sconces. The coffin rested upon an elevated 
 platform at the end of the hall, over which was suspended 
 a cloud-like canopy or veil. Life Gruardsmen with arms 
 reversed lined the apartment like statues, while beside the 
 body sat six chief mourners. The coffin itself was covered 
 with red velvet, and at the foot stood a table, on which all 
 the decorations of the deceased were laid out. Thither, 
 day by day, in a constant stream, crowds of men, women, 
 and children repaired, all dressed in deep mourning, that 
 they might pay their last tribute of respect to him who could 
 no longer acknowledge it. The first of these visitors was 
 her Majesty the Queen, accompanied by the youthful 
 branches of her family. But so deeply was she affected 
 that she never got beyond the centre of the hall, where her 
 feelings quite overcame her, and whence she was led, weep- 
 ing bitterly, to her carriage. 
 
 The public funeral took place on the 18th of November, 
 and was attended by the Prince Consort, and all the chief 
 officers of state. The military arrangements necessary for 
 it had previously been completed ; and with a view, it 
 is presumed, to give consistency to the whole affair, the 
 body was removed by torchlight a little before midnight on 
 the l7th, under an escort of cavalry, to the Horse Guards. 
 There, in the room which had often witnessed his atten- 
 tion to the affairs of that army which was now to furnish 
 his chief mourners, all that remained of the Duke rested 
 till dawn. And then the solemn ceremony began. From 
 St Paul's Cathedral, down Fleet Street, along the Strand, 
 by Charing Cross and Pall Mall, to St James's Park, troops 
 lined both sides of the streets ; while in the Park itself 
 columns of infantry, cavalry, and artillery were formed, 
 ready to fall into their proper places after the march began. 
 How it was conducted, with what respectful interest watch- 
 ed by high and low, how solemn the notes of the bands, as 
 one after another they took up and poured out the " Dead
 
 430 IX THE GRAVE. [1852. 
 
 March iu Saul," how grand, yet how touching the scene in 
 the interior of St Paul's, within which were gathered almost 
 all that survived of his companions in arms, it is not neces- 
 sary for me to describe. The representatives of all the 
 great Powers of Europe, Austi'ia alone excepted,* were 
 there to do him honour. The rank, talent, station, and 
 beauty of G-reat Britain joined in the solemn requiem 
 where^vith the funeral service closed. And as if it had 
 been decreed that to the very last everything connected 
 with him should have a character of its own, the elements 
 themselves combined as it were to do him honour. The 
 weather had been boisterous for some days previously, and 
 the early morning of the 18th itself set in with wind and 
 rain. But scarcely was the funeral procession arranged ere 
 the clouds broke, and the sky shone out blue and clear 
 upon the car and its attendants. It was but a respite, so 
 to speak, in the war of nature ; for the doors of St Paul's 
 had not long been shut ere the storm burst forth again, and 
 in rain and wind the day closed which witnessed the 
 funeral of the great Duke. Again, the mind which is 
 prone to superstition will find food on which to ruminate. 
 He who had conquered, and, for well-nigh forty years, pre- 
 served the peace of Europe, was gone ; and there followed 
 his removal from among us the war in the Crimea, with all 
 the unsatisfactory results to which it has led. 
 
 * Austria vras at tWs time offended by the treatment given to one of her 
 generals by a mob of draymen. She could not be made to understand that 
 every respectable person in the kingdom lamented the outrage, but that 
 there was no remedy for it except by due course of law.
 
 461 
 
 CHAPTER XLII. 
 
 THE DUKE AS A MAN, A SOLDIER, A STATESMAN HIS PLAT- 
 FULNESS HIS KINDLINESS HIS SELF-POSSESSION HIS 
 
 WISDOM. 
 
 If there be any Englisli reader who, after a perusal of 
 this narrative, finds it difficult to arrive at a just apprecia- 
 tion of the great man whose career has been therein set 
 down, the circumstance must be attributed to one of two 
 causes. Either he has little accustomed himself to draw 
 inferences from events as they pass before him, or I have 
 very imperfectly accomplished the task which I ventured to 
 set to myself. For the character of the Duke of Welling- 
 ton was, perhaps, more completely free from disguise than 
 that of any other man, whether of ancient or modern times, 
 who has filled so large a space in the world's history. The 
 great leading principle of his moral being was — duty. In 
 private life he was truth itself. As a public man, he had 
 but one object in view, viz., to benefit, to the utmost of his 
 ability and skiU, the state, whose servant he was. Of per- 
 sonal ambition, in the vulgar acceptation of that term, the 
 Duke knew nothing. The desire of winning applause, or 
 of advancing himself to places of honour and power, seems 
 never, from first to last, to have moved him. There are no 
 stories extant of a boyish ambition in him to become the 
 leader of his companions in their sports and pastimes. He 
 never taught them how to construct castles of snow, nor 
 led them to the attack or defence of such castles when con- 
 structed. His career at school is so completely without
 
 4«2 HIS CHARACTER. 
 
 note, that liacl not Robert Smith recorded the circumstance 
 of a bout at fisticuffs between the future deliverer of Europe 
 and himself, the biographer of the Duke of "Wellington 
 ■u'ould have been absolutely without a tale to tell of all 
 that his hero may have said or done at Chelsea, at Eton, 
 and at Angers. And so it is with his life as a subaltern, a 
 captain, a major, and an aide-de-camp to the Lord-lieutenant 
 of Ireland. It is a mere vacant space on the paper which is 
 soon to be filled with the record of exploits such as struck 
 the world with wonder ; — a sure proof that the same sim- 
 plicity of character which distinguished the man in after- 
 vears belonged to him in youth ; and that content to do his 
 duty, and to enjoy existence in his own peculiar way, he 
 never made an effort to push himself out of his place, 
 or to attract, in so doing, the gaze or admiration of the 
 multitude. 
 
 The powers which all this Avhile lay dormant came at 
 once into play as soon as an adequate appeal was made to 
 his sense of duty. He seems to have been almost the only 
 officer of rank in the army of the Duke of York in Elan- 
 ders who did not treat the requirements of the campaign as 
 secondary to his own personal wants and humours. AVhat- 
 ever Colonel Wellesley was directed to do, he did energeti- 
 cally and punctually. Everybody else seemed to regard time 
 as something not to be accounted of. The rearguard which 
 covered the retreat beyond the Wahl was always where it 
 ought to be to a moment. Other divisions rarely found 
 their proper places, or found them too late. I have often 
 heard him criticise that campaign, and always in the same 
 terms. It was the best school to which an ofiicer could be 
 sent, who had sufficient discrimination to observe blunders 
 and the effects of tljem, and wit enough to take warning 
 from what ho saw. 
 
 Colonel AV^ellesloy obtained, as he deserved, great praise 
 for his conduct in the Low Countries ; yet so little was 
 ])er8onal ambition or vanity stirred by it, that he made an 
 effort, as we have seen, immediately on his return to Eng- 
 land, to retire from the service. Happily for England, for 
 Europe, and for himself, it proved unsuccessful ; and India
 
 HIS CHAR..CTEE. 4G3 
 
 soon afterwards opened to him a field well suited both to 
 his temperament and his genius. With what assiduity he 
 applied himself there to questions, the solution of which 
 might enable him to be of use to the Government and to 
 the people, but which had certainly no direct connection 
 with his own success in his j)rofession ! With w^hat untiring 
 zeal he worked that others might benefit by his labours, — 
 as in preparing for the Mysore campaign, and making all 
 the arrangements necessary for the expedition to Egypt ! 
 And how ready he was, on every occasion, to do justice to 
 merits far inferior to his own, while his own were system- 
 atically passed over! I do not mean to insinuate that all this 
 failed, or could fail, to bear fruit in due season. Devotion 
 to duty, if it be accompanied with talent, generally leads, 
 even under our system, to advancement. But advancement, 
 for the sake of the personal advantages which result from it, 
 is not the end of a great man's ambition. In proportion 
 as he achieves it, he becomes conscious of a wider sphere of 
 usefulness, and is sensible that his responsibility increases 
 with the increase of his power. This was, to a remarkable 
 extent, the effect of his early promotion upon General Wel- 
 lesley. Each new step upwards on the ladder only placed 
 him in a situation which, more than that from which he had 
 ascended, supplied him with motives for fresh exertion ; 
 and that befell in his case, which befalls in the cases of all 
 men similarly circumstanced. Wherever placed, he com- 
 manded the entire confidence, not only of the Government 
 Avhich employed, but of the men and officers who served 
 iiuder him. There are now lying before me two letters, 
 written in 1802, by a young ofilcer in the Company's ser- 
 vice to his relatives at home. They describe the move- 
 ments of two corps, which at two separate times went out 
 under Colonel Wellesley's orders, on special service from 
 Seringapatam ; and each contains this remarkable expres- 
 sion : — " Everything goes well, because Colonel Wellesley is 
 in command. Whatever he undertakes he does admirably. 
 Perhaps it was scarcely fair to employ him, rather than 
 
 General ; but we are all delighted to have him at our 
 
 head ; he makes us so confident and so comfortable."
 
 46^ HIS CHARACTER. 
 
 Tlie Duke's Indian correspondence, now before the world, 
 sliows that in every situation he paid strict regard to the 
 principle of duty, and to that alone. When collecting grain 
 in the Deccan, he puts from him the opportunity of which 
 others took advantage to enrich themselves. He gains so 
 little by his command at Seringapatam, that the necessary 
 hospitalities incident to it threaten him with ruin. His 
 patronage is never exercised except for the advancement of the 
 public good, and in reward of meritorious services performed 
 by individuals. Colonel Close asks him to provide for the 
 son of an old officer who was the friend of both. He 
 acknowledges the claim so far as it is admissible, but ex- 
 jjlaius that he, and such as he, are bound to look, not to 
 the ties of personal regard, but to the higher requirements 
 of the public service. An oifer is made to him of separate 
 command, which he could not accept without outraging the 
 feelings and doing injustice to the merits of a senior of- 
 ficer. He points out where the injustice lies, and, professing 
 himself ready to do whatever may be required, suggests 
 that the wrong in question ought not to be committed. 
 And this at a time when his pecuniary affairs are in such 
 confusion that he is obliged to his brother for the means of 
 purchasing his steps ; and is glad on the receipt of prize- 
 money, because it enables him to repay the debt. 
 
 On his return home from India, where he had led large 
 armies in the field, and administered the aftairs of pro- 
 vinces equal in extent to many European kingdoms, he is ap- 
 pointed to the command of a brigade of infantry in Sussex. 
 He goes through his routine duties zealously. Not a word 
 of complaint or murmur escapes him ; and when taunted, 
 good-humouredly, with the change in his condition, he 
 i-eplies, " I have eaten the King's salt, and whatever he 
 desires me to do that becomes my duty." His Irish 
 Administration has, indeed, been described by some writers 
 as disfigiired by the grossest jobbery. Is this fair ? Is this 
 candid? Certainly Sir Arthur AYellcsley jobbed ; but let us 
 not forget that in those days Government was avowedly 
 carried on by influence ; and that influence, especially in 
 
 I 
 
 I
 
 HIS CHARACTER. 465 
 
 Ireland, meant pensions, places, and hard cash. It is evi- 
 dent, however, from his manner of dispensing these argu- 
 ments, that Sir Arthur Wellesley put its right value on the 
 morality of such as were convinced by them. He despised his 
 instruments even when he made use of them. But he never 
 imagined, placed as he was in a subordinate situation, that 
 the duty of purifying the political atmosj^here had devolved 
 upon him. He was, perhaps, the most open, and therefore 
 the most honest, trafficker in Parliamentary support that 
 ever bartered place or pension for votes. He never affect- 
 ed to believe in the principles of his correspondents. He 
 knew them to be venal, and he bribed them because it was 
 his duty to the Grovernment which he served so to do. 
 
 It is impossible to imagine an ordeal more trying than 
 that to which the character of Arthur Duke of Wellington 
 has been subjected. AH his secrets are before the world. 
 Colonel Grurwood's collection of Despatches, as they were 
 called, gave us such an insight into the mind of the writer 
 as had never before been obtained into the inner being of any 
 public man. The supplementary volumes published by the 
 present Duke strip off the last rag of covering which clung 
 to it. And the result is more and more to raise this extra- 
 ordinary man in our estimation. The same spirit of integrity, 
 the same devotion to duty, which were his pole-stars when 
 rising into greatness, guided him to the end of his career. 
 Whether he be in the field or in the senate, whether he 
 strive to control the action of foreign Grovernments or to 
 guide the counsels of the legislature at home, he seeks the 
 attainment of one object, and seeks it honestly. He will 
 not arrive at an end justifiable in itself, by means which 
 cannot be justified. He will never do evil that good may 
 come. He rejects with indignation the use of the dagger 
 when ofi'ered to rid him of Dhoondiah ; and he will give no 
 countenance to Colonel D'Argenton's proposal to excite a 
 mutiny in Soult's army. His great ground of quarrel with 
 the Portuguese Hegency is, that they are never true to 
 their engagements ; and that in their own persons they re- 
 fuse to set the example of that obedience to law and right 
 
 30
 
 466 niS CHAEACTER. 
 
 wliich tliey exact, or profess to exact, from tlie peasantry. 
 He condemns the Spanish Juntas and the Cortes, even 
 while he obeys them, because they are more intent on pro- 
 moting the views of party than on directing the energies of 
 the country against the common enemy. And so it is at 
 home. Believing that the will of the nation can be consti- 
 tutionally expressed only through the two Houses of Par- 
 liament, he will give no countenance to the formation of 
 loyal societies out of doors, even at a time when, between 
 political unions on one side and repeal associations on the 
 other, the power both of the Legislature and of the Crown 
 seems to him on the eve of dissolution. Nor was the case 
 otherwise in matters of less prominent importance. He 
 has trusts imposed upon him, and in no instance will he use 
 them except for the public good. The freemen of Sand- 
 wicli, Dover, and the other Cinque Ports, may vote as they 
 please. He will neither give place to the supporters of his 
 own policy, nor refuse it to such as oppose him, except 
 upon the ground of personal fitness. He declines to put 
 into the Trinity House an individual of whom he knows 
 nothing, though the applicant employs a prelate to beg for 
 him, and avers that he had been instrumental in saving the 
 Duke's life. He discountenances a proposal to damage or 
 throw out a bill which is most distasteful to himself, 
 because the means suggested appear to be dishonest. 
 Whatever partook, or seemed to partake, of the crooked or 
 disingenuous, was abhorrent to his nature ; nor would any 
 considerations of probable gain even to the country induce 
 him to take part in it. Indeed, he goes further. More 
 than one public man of acknowledged ability and weight in 
 the House of which he was a member, made proposals to the 
 Duke which, in his estimation, amounted to a breach of 
 faith witli their colleagues. He dechned to receive such 
 proposals, and preferred the imminent liazard of defeat to 
 the prospect of success, by no means an obscure one, 
 through the help of those whom " he could not trust." 
 
 Foreign writers are prone to compare the Duke of Wel- 
 lington as a military commander with Napoleon, and to give, 
 as is not perhaps unnatural in their case, the preference 
 
 I
 
 HIS CHAEACTER. 467 
 
 to the latter. I dissent from this judgment, as indeed I do 
 from any endeavour to draw a parallel between men who 
 neither in their moral nor in their intellectual organization 
 had anything in common. Contrasted they may be — ^to 
 compare them is impossible. Napoleon could not serve. 
 He never undertook a trust in a subordinate situation 
 which he did not divert to purposes of his own aggrandize- 
 ment, lie never, when advanced to the pinnacle of power, 
 entered into an engagement which he was not prepared, 
 when it suited his own interests, to violate. The Duke was 
 the most perfect servant of his King and country that the 
 world ever saw. He flourished, no doubt, in a condition of 
 society which presented insuperable obstacles to the accom- 
 plishment of ambitious projects, had he been unwise enough 
 to entertain them. But there is proof in almost every line 
 which he has written, in almost every word which he spoke, 
 that, be the condition of society what it might, the one 
 great object of his life would have been to secure the 
 ascendency of law and order, and to preserve the throne 
 and the constitution of the country unharmed. Wor can 
 you place your finger upon a single engagement into which 
 the Duke ever entered, whether in private life as a member 
 of society, or in public Hfe as a general or a statesman, the 
 terms of which were not rigidly fulfilled, however serious to 
 himself the inconveniences might be. 
 
 But this is not all. An attempted parallel between two 
 men whose lots were cast in moulds so essentially unlike 
 fails at every turn. One, falling upon a season of anarchy 
 and confusion, raised himself by the force of his own genius 
 to supreme power ; the other, born into a constitutional 
 and well-regulated state, aimed only at serving his country, 
 and served it faithfully. One, master of the greatest em- 
 pire which the world has ever seen, wielded its enormous 
 resources at pleasure ; filled up his ranks by a process of 
 unlimited conscription, and repaired the disaster of to-day 
 by the victory of to-morrow. The other, acting under the 
 control of a Government parsimonious yet extravagant, 
 feeble and vacillating, because dependent for its existence 
 on the popular will, could not reckon from one day to an- 
 
 30 ♦
 
 468 HIS CHARACTER. 
 
 other on being supported in any enterprise. To him victory 
 itself was pregnant with danger ; a single defeat would have 
 been ruin ; because battles, however they may terminate, 
 cannot be fought without some loss ; and the losses of au 
 army which is recruited by voluntary enlistment are hard to 
 supply. If, indeed, you seek to bring these two men into 
 comparison, you must do so by considering what each did 
 with the means at his disposal, till you arrive at au epoch 
 when they are fairly pitted against each other in the field, 
 and one goes down. Even then, however, your comparison 
 will be incomplete, and the inference drawn from it imper- 
 fect. Let them stand apart, therefore, each in his own 
 niche within the temple of fame which, they helped to rear 
 one for the other, while you look back into history in search 
 of leaders of armies with whom they may more appro^^riately 
 and severally be brought into parallelism. 
 
 And here to the mind of the scholar will occur at once 
 the names of two warriors, each a world's wonder in his 
 day, whose position, whose genius, and, subject to obvious 
 exceptions, the very detail of whose careers correspond 
 with marvellous exactitude to those of Napoleon and our 
 own Wellington. 
 
 Alexander the Macedonian was indeed born to a throne, 
 and died a victor, lamenting that there were no more 
 worlds to conquer. But Alexander's glory was achieved, 
 and his victories won, in every instance, over armies far less 
 perfectly organized than his own, and over generals immea- 
 surably his inferiors. Alexander's tactics were bold, often 
 rash, always aggressive, and his obstinacy was as strong as 
 his arrogance was extravagant. The resources of each new 
 state, as he overran it, were applied by him to purposes of 
 further conquest, and if he escaped the destruction with 
 which he seemed to be threatened in Bactria, it was be- 
 cause his troops refused to follow him further, and he was 
 compelled, sorely against his will, to yield to their remon- 
 strances. 
 
 Napoleon established his military reputation in contests 
 with such leaders as Melas, Mack, and the Duke of Bruns- 
 wick. He brought against armies drilled in the formal pre-
 
 NAPOLEON AND ALEXANDER. 469 
 
 cision of Prederick's school new tactics, wliict had their 
 rise rather in the necessities of the great French Revolu- 
 tion than in the genius of him who was its creature. His 
 most memorable battles, likewise, were fought with numbers 
 scarcely exceeding those with which Alexander forced the 
 passage of the Granicus. It was only after he had annexed 
 Holland, Belgium, and Italy, that he brought into the field 
 such hosts as dictated peace to Austria in the palace 
 of Schonbrunn, and perished through lack of forethought 
 on the march from the Vistula to Moscow. Finally, he 
 gave the law to continental Europe for ten years, because 
 Europe was constrained to enslave itself, and he died at 
 last defeated and in exile, only because self-worship had be- 
 come the ruling passion of his nature. Might not Alexander 
 have fallen as Napoleon fell had circumstances induced him 
 to turn his arms against the Romans, or had there been in 
 the far East a people prepared to make the sacrifice which 
 Russia made, when she committed her ancient capital to the 
 flames, in order that the invaders might not find shelter 
 within its walls ? 
 
 Turn now to the careers of Hannibal and of Wellington, 
 and observe in how many particulars these testify to the 
 presence in each of the same temper, the same forethought, 
 the same indomitable will, the same extraordinary genius 
 for political not less than for military afiairs, the same 
 postponement of self and the claims of self to public duty. 
 Both established their reputation as brilliant soldiers while 
 serving against troops inferior to their own, and under 
 the direction of kinsmen, not the least of whose merits it 
 was that they knew how to make use of them. "WTiat 
 Hannibal had been in Spain, when Asdrubal, his brother-in- 
 law commanded there, Wellington became in India during 
 the governor-generalship of his brother Lord Mornington. 
 The former, though subordinate in rank, led the Cartha- 
 ginians in the field as often as any enterprise requiring 
 more than common skill and conduct was determined upon ; 
 and by ]iis successes enabled Asdrubal to extend the limits 
 of the Carthaginian empire to the Iberus. The latter, while 
 yet a colonel, pacified Mysore, and defeated Dhoondiah ;
 
 470 "WELLINGTON AND HANNIBAL. 
 
 and being one of the youngest major-generals in tlie coun- 
 try, gained the battle of Assaye, and brought the great 
 Mahratta confederation to the feet of the East India Com- 
 pany. It may be accounted an accident that, with so many 
 centuries between, these two great men should have equally 
 assumed, for the first time, the chief command of armies 
 in the Spanish Peninsula ; yet out of that circumstance, 
 whether accidental or not, events arose which bring their cha- 
 racters more and more into parallelism. Hannibal and Wel- 
 lington were both citizens of free states, of states governed 
 by popular or aristocratic assemblies, in which party and its 
 claims were at least as much attended to as the requirements 
 of the public good. Both served Powers which were rather 
 naval than military, w^hich were more ambitious of wealth, 
 more covetous of influence, than bent upon the extension 
 of their territorial limits. The highest ambition of Car- 
 thage was to become the first maritime nation of the Old 
 World, and having accomplished that end, she made use of 
 her navy to push her commerce everywhere. Powerful at 
 sea, she was comparatively weak on shore, not through any 
 lack of courage in her inhabitants, but because her military 
 Bystem was radically viiisound, and she was too fi'ee and too 
 wealthy to endure a better. Wliat foDowed ? As soon as 
 Hannibal found himself in independent command, he was 
 glad to borrow from the Eomans all that was best in their 
 system, and to apply it, as far as circumstances would per- 
 mit, to his own army ; just as Wellington learned many 
 useful lessons from the French, and w'ould have learned 
 more, but that the nature of the Government under which 
 he served prevented him. 
 
 Again, Carthage, with professions of peace continually 
 upon her lips, was continually engaged in war, into which 
 the cupidity of her merchants, rather than the ambition 
 of her Government, usually hurried her. And the mercan- 
 tile element prevailing over the military in her coun- 
 cils, she starved, both in men and means, almost every 
 foreign expedition wliich she sent out. So also it was, and, 
 to a certain extent, continues to be, with England. Her 
 fleets, manned by the press-gang, swept the ocean during 
 
 I
 
 THEIR SPECIALITIES. 471 
 
 tbe war of the Prencli Revolution ; lier armies, raised by- 
 voluntary enlistment, were wasted upon enterprises as pro- 
 fitless as they were discursive. 
 
 When Hannibal broke with the Eomans, by undertaking 
 the siege of Saguntum, his force consisted of perhaps 
 80,000 men, of whom less than one half were drawn from 
 Africa. The remainder consisted of Spaniards and, as we 
 should now call them, Portuguese (Vaccjei, Olcades, Vet- 
 tones, and others), whom he drilled in the Carthaginian 
 tactics, and officered, in the higher ranks at least, with Car- 
 thaginian leaders. If inferior in some respects to the best 
 of his Carthaginian legions, these became, under such man- 
 agement, excellent troops, and supplied the place of the 
 reinforcements which his own Groverument was either unable 
 or unwilling to send him. If Wellington had not found in 
 Portugal facilities for recruitment, he could have neither 
 held his ground within the lines of Torres Vedras, nor made 
 his famous march from the Tagus to the Ebro. 
 
 Again, the appliances which are indispensable towards 
 carrying on war, such as money, stores, provisions, means 
 of transport, Hannibal was obliged to create for himself. 
 The supplies furnished to him from Africa, besides arriving 
 in driblets, were always inadequate. Had not his adminis- 
 trative abilities been of the first order, he never could have 
 begun his march towards Italy. Wellington's case, in its 
 leading features, was very much the same. The most seri- 
 ous of the difficulties with which he had to contend, were 
 occasioned by the negligence or short-sightedness of his 
 own Government. He might have starved, he certainly 
 would have become immovable, but that he created for him- 
 self a commissariat, a mint, a foreign trade in corn, maga- 
 zines, and, above all, a system of transport which never failed 
 him. 
 
 Even in their special excellences as commanders of troops, 
 there is a striking similarity between the two men. Both 
 were quick in establishing channels of intelligence, by 
 means of which they became acquainted with all the enemy's 
 movements. Both excelled in one of the most difficult 
 operations of war, the passage of rivers. Wellington on
 
 472 CONTRASTED AND COMPARED. 
 
 the Douro and the Adour is but the counterpart of Han- 
 nibal on the Ehone and the Po ; each crossed where the 
 enemy least expected him, and by means which were as 
 eflective as they were hazardous. We may place them side 
 by side also in the care which they took of their troops, 
 and in their forethought which provided that the baggage 
 necessary to this end should never be far in the rear. They 
 equally saved their people from exposure to every uncalled- 
 for hardship ; they equally kept them, as far as possible, 
 well clothed, well fed, and above all, well shod. 
 
 To the superficial observer, it may appear that, so far as 
 dash and enterprise are concerned, Hannibal leaves "Wel- 
 lington far behind ; and the fragmentary account which has 
 reached us of the passage of the Alps, and of the brilliant 
 campaigns which followed, may serve to give weight to this 
 opinion. But two points deserve consideration here. First, 
 Is that an enterprise worthy of a great general which separ- 
 ates him from his base of operations, leaving him no altern- 
 ative between complete success and total destruction ? and 
 next, did Hannibal, when he invaded Italy, commit tliis 
 grievous error, exposing himself thereby to an amount of 
 risk which there was nothing in the state of his own or the 
 enemy's preparations to justify ? The former of these ques- 
 tions will be answered in the negative, by all who under- 
 stand what wise enterprise is. The second cannot receive a 
 reply in the affirmative, except at the expense of Hannibal's 
 military reputation, which no competent judge will venture 
 to assail. The truth is, that Hannibal's inroad into Italy 
 was quite as safe, or he believed it to be so, as Wellington's 
 early attempts to penetrate from Portugal into Spain ; first, 
 when, side by side with Cuesta, he fought the battle of Tal- 
 avera ; and again, when after the battle of Salamanca, he 
 made his entry into Madrid. He undertook both operations, 
 trusting to the assurances of the Spaniards that they would 
 supply the wants of liis army, and operate, at least, a diver- 
 sion in his favour. It was thus that Hannibal acted 2000 yeai-s 
 before Wellington was born. Prom the Ebro to the A.lps 
 he conquered, and took military possession ; and he crossed
 
 THEIR STRENGTH OF VILL. 473 
 
 the Alps tliemselves because he had reason to believe that 
 the Gauls who dwelt beyond them would join him to a man. 
 Neither were his communications with his immediate rear 
 entirely broken, even after Hanno had been defeated ; Avhile 
 the sea was always open to him, by means of which rein- 
 forcements and supplies could at any time reach him from 
 Carthage. Hannibal and Wellington were equally deceived 
 in their expectations. Both, after gaining great battles, 
 were forced to withdraw : the one to defend Carthage, 
 which he failed in doing ; the other to save Portugal, and 
 to gather strength for a third and more successful effort in 
 Spain. 
 
 "We might pursue this parallel further, by showing how 
 closely these great men resembled each other in the moder- 
 ation which they exhibited when carrying all before them, 
 in their unfailing courage and determination, when to 
 human appearance their cause was become desperate. 
 Hannibal in Italy maintained among his troops the same 
 strict discipline which Wellington maintained in the south 
 of France ; and both secured thereby the good-will of the 
 people to whom they came as conquerors. The defeat of 
 Asdrubal, terrible as it was, no more broke the courage of 
 Hannibal than Wellington's resolution was shaken when 
 tidings of the battle of Wagram reached him. Finally, 
 both were the devoted servants of their country, and of its 
 constitution, though both suffered from the inaptitude of 
 the latter to a state of war. Marked differences the in- 
 quirer will doubtless find in the tempers of the men as 
 well as in the careers of the generals. But these seem to 
 be the results of the different circumstances under which 
 they were placed. All that belonged, properly speaking, 
 to themselves, their quickness to observe, their powers of 
 calculation, their coolness, forethought, self-possession, jus- 
 tice, their fertility in resources, their exceeding strength 
 of will, were essentially the same. Had Hannibal been 
 thrown into Wellington's age and circumstances, he would 
 have done, in all probability, much as AVellington did ; had 
 Welliugton filled Hannibal's place in history, the name
 
 474 COMPARED WITH MARLBOROUGH. 
 
 would have been changed, but the exploits of the Cartha- 
 ginian commander would have come down to us very little 
 varied from what we now find them. 
 
 In estimating the character of the Duke of "Wellington 
 as a soldier, it has not been unusual, both in England and 
 elsewhere, to draw between him and John Duke of Marl- 
 borough a parallel generally to the advantage of the lat- 
 ter. According to our view of the case, the materials for 
 such a parallel are as scanty as the conclusion adverse to 
 the Duke of Wellington is unjust. In this they doubtless 
 resembled one another, that both understood how to handle 
 troops ; that both were careful of the health and general 
 comforts of their men, and that both paid great attention to 
 details. But so far they only fall into the groove along 
 which great commanders have run since the world began ; 
 for no man can long command an army at all who is care- 
 less of the health and comforts of his men, and inattentive 
 to matters of detail. When we look closer into the subject, 
 however, it will be seen that there is not much similarity in 
 the conditions under which Marlborougb and Wellington 
 respectively made war ; and hence that the similitudes which 
 are discoverable in the two careers affect particular operations 
 rather than the genius of the men who directed them. The 
 Duke of Marlborough, for example, assiimed the command 
 of an allied army in the Netherlands, after having studied 
 his profession under Turenne and William III. ; the latter 
 an unsuccessful, but not therefore an incapable, officer. The 
 Duke of Wellington's masters in the art of war were the 
 Duke of York and Lord Harris, brave men both, but cer- 
 tainly not to be spoken of in the same breath Avith Turenne 
 or William III. The Duke of Marlborough found himself 
 at the head of Dutch, Austrian, and Sardinian troops, — all 
 of them in as high a state of discipline as his own, and at 
 least as well appointed. He had as his coadjutor Prince 
 Eugene, a general scarcely inferior to himself in skill and 
 capacity, and he carried on his operations against such officers 
 as Tallard and Villars, the Duke of Burgundy, A^illeroy, and 
 Boufflers. 
 
 The Duke of Wellington M'as forced to construct fof
 
 BOTH FERTILE IN EESOURCES. 475 
 
 himself a Portuguese contingent, and having raised it to 
 the highest state of perfection of which it seems to have 
 been capable, used to say, that when led by British officers 
 it was equal to the Sepoys. As to the Spanish armies, they 
 were sometimes rather an encumbrance to him than the re- 
 Terse ; they could never, to the end of the war, be entirely 
 depended upon. With respect, again, to his own lieu- 
 tenants, the most that can be said is, that several among 
 them possessed a fair share of ability ; whereas his oppon- 
 ents were, Soult, Massena, Marmont, Victor, and finally 
 Napoleon. Again, Marlborough, when supplies were want- 
 ing, made his requisitions upon states which, being under 
 the management of regular Governments, were always 
 able, and generally willing, to furnish whatever might be re- 
 quired. Wellington, on the other hand, was di'iven to 
 create his own resources, and to provide his OAvn means 
 both of collecting and paying for them. Marlborough, sup- 
 ported by the Queen, and backed hj the undivided influ- 
 ence of the devolution Grovernment, had at his command 
 the whole military resources of Great Britain. There were 
 then no colonies in all parts of the world to protect ; no In- 
 dia to guard, no Mediterranean fortresses to garrison. 
 Wellington found it necessaiy to sustain the courage of a 
 feeble Cabinet, which, in the face of popular clamour and a 
 strong parliamentary opposition, was afraid to put forth the 
 strength of the empire, even though in withholding it they 
 exposed both their general and his army to destruction. 
 "No doubt the field deputies were a source of great annoy- 
 ance to Marlborough, from which, however, he succeeded at 
 last in delivering himself ; but the Portuguese Regency, 
 and the Juntas and Cortes of Spain, hung like a mill-stone 
 round the neck of Wellington, from the opening to the 
 close of the struggle. I might go further, and refer to the 
 tone which pervades the correspondence of these two men, 
 the one always keeping in view self-aggrandizement, and 
 the interests of party, the other taking no serious thought 
 of anything except the public service, and the best means of 
 promoting it. But this is not necessary ; Marlborough and 
 Wellington were both great men, — great in politics, per-
 
 476 BOTH DIPLOMATISTS. 
 
 Haps greater iu -war ; but except that neither of them ever 
 sustained a defeat, there is little ^vhich, to him who ex- 
 amines their respective courses -with attention, will serve to 
 place them in any degree of parallelism one towards the 
 other. 
 
 And this naturally leads to a consideration of the calls 
 which were made \ipon them for the management, not of 
 combined armies alone, but of Courts and Cabinets, of which 
 the views were often as narrow as they were discordant. 
 The task imposed u2:)on Marlborough in this respect was 
 heav}^ enough. He had to excite the States- General, al- 
 ways indolent and greedy, to self-denial and activity, while 
 he kept up the sinking courage of the emperor, and restrained 
 the impetuosity of the House of Savoy. He succeeded, as 
 he invariably did, in diplomacy, by dint of great penetra- 
 tion into the characters of others, by winning manners, and 
 the hearty suj)port of Godolphiu and the Duchess Sarah at 
 home. But success enabled him only to lay upon others a 
 responsibility which he could not himself undertake. He 
 never found it necessary, first to create the resources of 
 the states with which he was in communication, and then 
 to wield them. How it fared Avith Wellington in these re- 
 spects in India, iu the Spanish Peninsula, and in France, 
 I need not here stop to point out. 
 
 The place to be allotted to the Duke of Wellington as a 
 leading statesman under a constitutional Government will 
 be determined, as a matter of course, according to the opin- 
 ions entertained by those who sit in judgment upon him, on 
 certain great constitutional questions. That he was a 
 !Royalist in every sense of the term, all who came in con- 
 tact with him understood. The Government of the empire 
 was for him the King's Government ; the peace of the 
 realm was the King's peace ; the army, the navy, the 
 magistracy, the Parliament itself were the King's. The 
 throne was the fountain, not of honour only, but of all the 
 rights and privileges Avhich the people enjoyed. Yet the 
 throne, as he regarded it, was as much hemmed in by law, 
 and even by custom, as the humblest of the lieges. And so 
 it came to pass that, Eoyalist as he was, no man stood up
 
 HIS DEVOTION TO THE THRONE. 477 
 
 more stoutly for the people and their rights than the Duke 
 of Wellington. Like the best of the cavaliers in the time 
 of the first Charles, it was for the Crown, as the greatest 
 institution in the country, that he was prepared to risk 
 everything. Hence, if the King's ministers proposed mea- 
 sures which he believed to be mischievous or unsafe, he op- 
 posed them. Hence, too, if the Sovereign expressed 
 wishes, a compliance with which would tend in his opinion 
 to bring the Crown into disrepute, he resisted such wishes. 
 Had his advice been taken, the country might have escaped 
 much, if not all, the scandal of Queen Caroline's trial. He 
 overruled George IV. in other caprices, equally with that 
 calculated to add to his unpopularity. While prepared at 
 all hazards to deliver William IV. out of his difficulties, he 
 did not hesitate to point out to his Majesty where he had 
 gone wrong. And even towards Queen Victoria, for whom 
 he would have cheerfully laid down his life, he took on one 
 memorable occasion an attitude somewhat savouring of 
 harshness. He joined the opposition to the grant proposed 
 by Lord Melbourne for Prince Albert on his marriage, and 
 cut it down from £50,000 to £30,000 a year. However un- 
 palatable at the moment tliis act might be, neither the 
 Sovereign nor the people could mistake his motive, and 
 both the Sovereign and the people gave him in return in- 
 creased esteem and reverence. 
 
 Eor many years after he became a minister, the Duke's 
 place in the Cabinet was a subordinate one. His own 
 tenure of office as head of an Administration was brief. 
 Tet he contrived in that interval to pass a measure from 
 grappling with which all previous Governments had shrunk. 
 His Catholic Kelief Bill would have been more satisfactory 
 had he been able to carry it in its original form. But with 
 all the imperfections which others ingrafted upon it, who 
 will speak of it as a blunder ? That the Tories of 1S29 
 blundered in breaking off from his guidance, there are j^ro- 
 bably few survivors of that gallant but headstrong band 
 who will now deny. But surely the blame of subsequent 
 misfortunes, if misfortunes we are to consider them, rests, 
 not with him who got rid of an insuperable obstacle to all
 
 478 HIS MOTIVES AS A POLITICIAX. 
 
 Grovernment, but with liis angry followers, who, to gratify a 
 spirit of revenge, placed him iu a minoi'ity in the House of 
 Commons, and insured the accession of the Whigs to office. 
 
 The Duke's policy and system of management on the two 
 great questions of Parliamentary reform and free-trade in. 
 corn, are, and will remain to the end of time, fair subjects of 
 discussion. That he exaggerated the amount of danger to 
 be apprehended from both measures, may be true. Experi- 
 ence, as far as it has yet instructed us, seems to indicate as 
 much ; but believing, as he did, that Lord Grey's bill, if 
 passed into law, would sap the foundations of the monarchy, 
 and that the means adopted by the minister to pass it into 
 law were even more pregnant with danger than the bill 
 itself, w^e cannot, understanding his nature, and taking pro- 
 per measure of his principles, blame him for having resisted 
 it at every stage. Of his subsequent conduct when in op- 
 position, and his perfect disinterestedness after the Con- 
 servatives returned to powder, there cannot be two opinions. 
 And if he seemed to desert his party when Sir Robert Peel 
 gave up the Corn Laws, let it not be forgotten that he went 
 with Sir Eobert for the party's sake. It was in the hope of 
 keeping power in the hands of Conservative statesmen that 
 he sacrificed the most fondly cherished of all his political 
 opinions. 
 
 All this, however, only brings us back to the point from 
 which we started in 1826. "Was it possible for a man, 
 already so great as the Duke of Wellington, to descend into 
 the arena of party politics, without subtracting from his 
 greatness. Add to it he could not, and therefore be the re- 
 sults of the experiment what they may, both to the country 
 and to himself, this at least is certain, that in making it he 
 yielded to no suggestion of merely selfish ambition. 
 
 Of the Duke as an orator enough has already been said 
 to convey a tolerably accurate impression to the mind of a 
 careful reader. He had been many years a regular attend- 
 ant in the House of Lords, before he ever thought of ad- 
 dressing it, except when some appeal was made directly to 
 himself, and then he spoke briefly. He became all at once 
 its leader, not in council only and by the force of his strong
 
 IN THE HOUSE OF LORDS. 479 
 
 understanding, but in debate. His speeches, like bis letters, 
 are plain, straightforward, and to the purpose. His argu- 
 ments were from time to time well sustained, and even inge- 
 nious ; as in his censure of Earl Grrey for dissolving Parlia- 
 ment in 1831, and in the view which he took of the effect of 
 the laws against Eoman Catholics upon the constitution 
 properly so called. His articulation, never very clear, 
 became in latter years difficult, and sometimes painful. He 
 would make long pauses when speaking, repeat himself, and 
 occasionally employ terms which amounted to exaggeration. 
 But in every instance what he said had in it a large measure 
 of good sense, and was invariably listened to, both in the 
 House of Lords and elsewhere, with respect. 
 
 The attention which the Duke commanded for himself, he 
 never failed to give to others. There he sat, with his hat 
 drawn over his brows, and his hand up to his ear, listening 
 to one noble lord after another, as if each had an argument 
 to advance which might possibly change his own views of 
 the point under discussion. And when otherwise unable to 
 catch the substance of what was said, he would move as close 
 to the speaker as the customs of the House allowed, and 
 stand till the speech came to a close. 
 
 Of the Duke's personal peculiarities, both physical and 
 mental, enough, it may be thought, has been said elsewhere, 
 yet my portrait would scarcely be complete were I to omit 
 all notice of them in this place. Nature had endowed him 
 with a robust frame and an iron constitution. In height he 
 measured about 5 feet 9 inches, — I speak, of course, of what 
 he was in the vigour of his days, for latterly old age had 
 shrunk and bowed his frame, and given him the habit of 
 stooping. His shoulders were broad, his chest well devel- 
 oped, his arms long, and his hands and feet in excellent pro- 
 portion. His eyes were of a dark violet blue, or grey, and 
 his sight was so penetrating, that even to the last he could dis- 
 tinguish objects at an immense distance. The general ex- 
 pression of his countenance when silent or pre-occupied, was 
 grave ; but his smile had a charm about it which, when once 
 seen, could never be forgotten. A forehead not very high, 
 but broad and square, eyebrows straight and prominent, a
 
 480 HIS PERSONAL APPEARANCE. 
 
 long face, a E-oman nose, a broad under jaw, witli a chin 
 strongly marked, gave him a striking resemblance to more 
 than one of the heroes of antiquity, especially to Julius 
 Caesar. His hair, which was originally a clear brown, had 
 become white as silver before he died, but to the last there 
 "w^as no baldness, even at the temples. If you met him in a 
 crowd or upon the street, and were entirely ignorant that 
 he was a great man, you would be impelled by some secret 
 impulse to fix your eye upon him, and to turn round and 
 look after him when he had passed. I saw him for the first time 
 as he crossed the line of march during a military operation 
 in Spain. Only three mounted officers attended him, and he 
 was simply dressed in a grey frock, a cocked hat covered 
 with oil-skin, and grey trowsers ; but instinctively he was 
 recognized as the commander of the forces, and the impres- 
 sion then made upon the mind of a boy, never in after-life 
 passed away. 
 
 The military costume of the Duke on active service was 
 singularly plain, though becoming, and very peculiar. On 
 state occasions he wore the full dress of his rank, with all 
 his orders and decorations ; but in the field his garb was 
 either a blue or a grey frock — blue when fighting was not 
 expected; grey, if a battle were in preparation or in progress. 
 Over this, that he might be more easily recognized from afar, 
 he often threw a short white cloak, which is still in existence, 
 and may be seen in a glass case at Apsley House. His 
 cocked hat was very low, rising but little above the croum 
 of the head, and he rarely surmounted it with a plume. 
 The boots known as " Wellingtons " were of his own in- 
 vention, and outside the trowsers he used often to wear 
 mud-guards of strong leather, which overlapped and were 
 fastened with straps and buckles. His sword was a light 
 steel-mounted sabre, which he suspended from his waist by 
 a black belt. He never wore a sash except en grande tenue. 
 
 His morning dress, as a civilian, was scrupulously neat 
 and clean, but varied very little, and that only with the 
 change of seasons. In summer he might be recognized, on 
 foot or on horseback, by his low-crowned narrow-brimmed 
 hat, his white cravat fastened with a silver buckle behind ; 
 
 1
 
 HIS ATTIRE. 481 
 
 Bis blue froclv, wliite Tvaistcoat, and -n-liite trowsers. In 
 winter there were the same hat, neckcloth, and frock, with 
 a waistcoat blue, sometimes red, and blue trowsers. He 
 never wore a great coat, but in severe weather threw a short 
 cloak or cape over his shoulders, made of blue cloth, with a 
 white lining. His evening attire, except when he was in 
 mourning, consisted of a blue coat with metal buttons, a 
 white cravat and waistcoat, black breeches, and silk stock- 
 ings, or tight black pantaloons. On these occasions he wore 
 the order of the Grarter under the left knee, with the Golden 
 rieece suspended round his neck, the blue or other ribbon, 
 and a star. When at Walmer, he often dressed for dinner 
 in the uniform of the Cinque Ports, viz., a blue coat with 
 scarlet collar and cuifs, and blue trowsers with a red stripe 
 down the outer seam. 
 
 Though a bold rider and a fearless driver, it cannot be 
 said that tlie Duke was either skilful in equitation or an ex- 
 pert wdiip. His seat when mounted was loose, and latterly 
 not very graceful. He spared no expense in furnishing his 
 stables, but somehow or another his horses were rarely 
 without a fault. The truth, I believe, was, that besides 
 being but an indifferent judge of the animal at the outset, 
 he became so much attached to it when he had ridden it for 
 a while, that he continued to use it after any other man 
 would have exchanged it for another. Of the sort of car- 
 riage in which he used to be conveyed to and from the 
 Horse G-uards, I have already spoken. In the country, be- 
 fore he ceased to be his own charioteer, he was in the habit 
 of driving sometimes a curricle, sometimes, when his house 
 was full of guests, a sort of clmr-a-hanc. Being deaf in the 
 left ear, he sat always on the left side of the box, and his 
 driving was like that of Jehu the son of Nimshi, furious. It 
 happened that on one occasion I, being in another carriage 
 behind him, endeavoured to follow close through the narrow 
 uneven lanes which connect Barfriston with Walmer. It 
 was a vain effort ; he was soon out of sight. Arriving by 
 and by at the Castle gate, I was met by LordClanwiIliam,Avho 
 had been the Duke's companion in the curricle. " The Duke 
 gets along," was the remark, " he soon left me behind." 
 
 31
 
 482 niS MANNER OF LIFE. 
 
 " There is no doubt of that," -nas the answer ; " I thought 
 more than once that he would have left me behind too." 
 
 The Duke's manner of life was plain, regular, and method- 
 ical. He mixed, indeed, freely in the society of London 
 during the season, for eA'erybody desired to have him, and 
 he went everywhere — not in search of personal gratification 
 to himself, but because he knew that others would be grati- 
 fied by his presence. Indeed he felt, and to his more inti- 
 mate friends often complained, of the burden which society 
 was to him, though in this, as in graver matters, his own 
 ease was invariably postponed to what he held to be a duty. 
 Elsewhere than in London, his habits were simple, I had al- 
 most said severe. The rooms most plainly furnished in 
 Strathfieldsaye and Walmer Castle were those which he per- 
 sonally occujiied. He slept at Strathfieldsaye upon a sofa, 
 at Walmer upon a small iron bedstead, which might have 
 served him, and was commonly, though erroneously, supposed 
 to have done so, throughout his wars in the Peninsula. 
 Both couches were without posts or curtains, or hangings of 
 any kind ; and the bedding consisted of a hair mattress, a 
 blanket, and an eider-down quilt. At "NYalmer, his bed-room 
 served him as a private sitting-room also. It was situated 
 within one of the bastions of the Castle, and, besides his 
 couch, contained a few chairs, two tables, and a bookcase so 
 placed that he could take down a volume from it at pleasure 
 while in bed, and a chest of drawers. The Bible, the Pray- 
 er-book, a copy of Jeremy Taylor's Holy Living and Dying, 
 and Caesar's Commentaries, lay within his reach, and judg- 
 ing from the marks of use which are upon them, must have 
 been much read and often consulted. 
 
 The Duke was most exact and particular in his corre- 
 spondence. Ko letter, even the most eccentric, remained 
 unanswered. "When, indeed, numbers of persons took to 
 Avriting to him for the mere purpose of obtaining his auto- 
 graph, he so couched his replies as to meet the peculiarities 
 of each case. There was much originality in these answers. 
 Some ran thus : " P.M. the Duke of "Wellington regrets that 
 it is not in his power, &c., &c. He is one of the few per- 
 sons in this country who don't meddle with matters with
 
 HIS CHARACTERISTIC RERLIES. 483 
 
 wliicli they have no concern." Others took this turn : — 
 " F.M. the Duke of Wellington can give no opinion upon a 
 matter of which he knows nothing." 
 
 In 1845, when the Queen paid him a visit at Strathfield- 
 saye, the newspaper reporters applied to him, according to 
 the custom of the country, to be admitted into the house, in 
 order that they might give an account of what was passing 
 there. The Duke wrote to them in these terms : — •" P.M. the 
 
 Dulve of "Wellington presents his compliments to Mr , 
 
 and begs to say that he does not see what his house at 
 Strathfieldsaye has to do with the public press." 
 
 A gentleman of Belfast wrote to him the following let- 
 ter : — " May it please your Grace, I have taken the liberty 
 of requesting your opinion — "Was Napoleon guilty or not of 
 the murder of his pi'isoners at Jaffa ? and if there is any 
 military law or circumstance that would justify the deed ? " 
 The following was the Duke's answer : — " P.M. the Duke of 
 "Wellington presents his compliments to Mr H. ; he has also 
 received Mr H.'s letter, and begs leave to inform him, that 
 he is not the historian of the wars of the French Eepublic 
 in Egypt and Syria." 
 
 A great number of authors applied to the Duke to sub- 
 scribe to their works. His answer was always the same. 
 " P.M. the Duke of Wellington begs to decline to give his 
 name as a subscriber to the book in question. If he learns 
 that it is a good book he may become a purchaser." 
 
 Equally characteristic were the Duke's letters, whether 
 of courtesy or of kindness. The author of the Subaltern, 
 whose work obtained, perhaps, a greater measure of success 
 than it deserved, was informed by some of his friends that it 
 had attracted the attention of the Duke of Wellington, and 
 the suggestion was made to him that he also should apply 
 for leave to dedicate a new edition to the Duke. He re- 
 ceived by return of post the following answer : — 
 
 " London, 9th November, 182G. 
 " Dear Sir, 
 
 " I have this day received your letter of the 7th inst., 
 and I beg to assure you that you have been correctly in-
 
 4S4 ALWAYS COURTEOUS. 
 
 formed that I had read your work with the greatest interest, 
 aud that I admired the simplicity and truth with Avhich you 
 had related the various events which you had witnessed ; 
 the scenes in which you had been an actor, and the circum- 
 stances of the life which you had led as an officer of the 
 85th regiment, in the army in the Peninsula and the south 
 of France. 
 
 " I should be happy to have an opportunity of testifying 
 my sense of the merits of your work by consenting to the 
 dedication to me of the second edition, only that I have long 
 been under the necessity of declining to give a formal con- 
 sent to receive the dedication of any work. 
 
 " I conceive that by such consent I give a sort of tacit 
 guarantee of the contents of the work so dedicated. I know 
 that I should be considered to have placed myself in that 
 situation by some who might not, perhaps, approve of those 
 contents. Prom what I have above stated, you will see that 
 I could have no objection to stand in the situation described, 
 in relation to your work ; and I must admit that it would be 
 better to draw a distinction between good and meritorious 
 works and others, aud to give my sanction, so far as to con- 
 sent to receive the compliment of their dedication gives such 
 sanction, to the first and not to the last. But then there 
 comes another difficulty. Before I give such sanction I 
 must peruse the work proposed to be dedicated to me ; and 
 I must confess that I have neither time nor inclination to 
 wade through the hundreds, I might almost say thousands, of 
 volumes ofiered to my protection, in order to see whether their 
 contents are such as that I can venture to become a species of 
 guarantee for their truth, their fitness, &c., &c. I have there- 
 fore taken the idlest and the shortest way of getting out 
 of this difficulty, by declining to give a formal consent 
 to receive the dedication of any work. This mode of pro- 
 ceeding frequently gives me great pain; but in no instance 
 has it given more than on this occasion, as you will perceive 
 by the trouble which I give you to peruse, and myself to 
 write, these reasons for declining to give a formal consent 
 to accept the compliment which you have been so kind as 
 to propose to me.
 
 HIS GENERAL VIEWS. 485 
 
 " If, however, you think proper to dedicate your second 
 edition to me, you are perfectly at liberty to do so ; and 
 you. cannot express in too strong terms my approbation and 
 admiration of your interesting work. 
 
 " I have the honour to be, dear Sir, 
 
 " Tours most faithfully, 
 
 " Wellington. 
 " I was informed when I lauded at Dover in April of the 
 change of your line of life and circumstances, by one of 
 your former brother officers." 
 
 The individual to whom this letter was addressed derived 
 from it, as may be supposed, the highest gratification ; and 
 the kindness which it manifested personally to himself ceased 
 only with the life of the illustrious writer. 
 
 The Duke's correspondence during the agitation of Lord 
 Grrey's Eeform Bill was, as we have seen, immense. If 
 printed in detail it would fill volumes ; but a few specimens, 
 merely to show upon what principle he acted, both as a pub- 
 lic man and as an individual, may be with perfect propriety 
 inserted here. 
 
 At a moment when the public mind was at the height of 
 its agitation, I took the liberty of expressing by letter a 
 wish that certain concessions should be made. The follow- 
 ing is the Duke's reply : — 
 
 " London, 11th April, 1831. 
 " I have received your letters of the 8th and 9th. It 
 is curious enough that I, who have been the greatest re- 
 former on earth, should be held up as an enemy to all 
 reform. This assertion is neither more or less than one of 
 the lying cries of the day. 
 
 " K by reform is meant Parliamentary reform, or a change 
 in the mode or system of representation, what I have said 
 is, that I have never heard of a plan that was safe and prac- 
 ticable that w^ould give satisfaction, and that while I was in 
 office I should oppose myself to reform in Parliament. This 
 was in answer to Lord Grrey on the first day of the session, 
 I am still of the same opinion. I think that Parliament 
 has done its duty : that constituted as Parliament is, having
 
 483 ON EEFORM OF TARLIAMEXT. 
 
 iu it as a member every man noted iu the country for his 
 fortune, his talents, his science, his industry, or his influ- 
 ence ; the first men of all professions, in all brandies of 
 trade and manufacture, connected with our colonies and set- 
 tlements abroad, and representing, as it does, all the states 
 of the United Kingdom, the government of the country is 
 still a task almost more than human. To conduct the 
 Government would be impossible, if by reform the House 
 of Commons should be brought to a greater degree under 
 popular influence. Yet let those who wish for reform 
 reflect for a moment where we should all stand if we were 
 to lose for a day the protection of Government. 
 
 " That is the ground upon which I stand Avith respect to 
 the question of reform in genei'al. I have more experience iu 
 the government of this country than any man now alive, 
 as well as in foreign countries. I have no borough influ- 
 ence to lose, and I hate the whole concern too much to 
 think of endeavouring to gain any. Ask the gentlemen of 
 the Cinque Ports whether I have ever troubled any of 
 them. 
 
 " On the other hand, I know that I should be the idol of 
 the country if I could pretend to alter my opinion and alter 
 my course. And I know that I exclude myself from poli- 
 tical power by persevering in the course which I have taken. 
 But nothing shall induce me to utter a word, either iu pub- 
 lic or in private, that I don't believe to be true. If it is 
 God's will that this great country should be destroyed, and 
 that mankind should be deprived of this last asylum of 
 peace and happiness, be it so ; but, as long as I can raise 
 my voice, I will do so against the infatuated madness of 
 the day. 
 
 " In respect to details, it has always appeared to me 
 that the first step upon this subject was the most important. 
 A\"e talk of unrepresented great towns ! These are towns 
 which have all the benefit of being governed by the system 
 of the British Constitution without the evil of elections. 
 Look at Scotland. Does Scotland suff"er because it has not 
 the benefit of riotous elections ? I think that reform in 
 Scotland would be, and I am certain would be thought, a
 
 ox THE USE OF CLOSE BOROUGHS. 4S7 
 
 grievance by many in that country. I can answer for there 
 being many respectable men in Manchester, and I believe 
 there are some in Birmingham and Leeds, who are adverse 
 to change. 
 
 " But how is this change to be made ? Either by adding to 
 the number of representatives in Parliament from England, 
 or by disfranchising wliat are called the rotten boroughs ! 
 The first cannot be done without a departtire from the 
 basis and a breach of the Acts of Union. And, mind, a 
 serious departure and breach of these Acts, inasmuch as the 
 limits of the extension could not be less than from fifteen to 
 twenty towns. The last would be, in my opinion, a viola- 
 tion of the first and most important principle of the Con- 
 stitution, for no valid reason, and upon no ground whatever 
 excepting a popular cry, and an apprehension of the con- 
 sequences of resisting it. But this is not all. I confess 
 that I see in thirty members for rotten boroughs thirty men, 
 I don't care of Avhat party, who would preserve the state of 
 property as it is ; who would maintain by their votes the 
 Church of England, its possessions, its churches and univer- 
 sities, all our great institutions and corporations, the union 
 with Scotland and Ireland, the connection of the country 
 with its foreign colonies and possessions, the national honour 
 abroad and its good faith with the King's subjects at home. 
 I see men at the back of the Government to enable it to 
 protect individuals and their property against the injustice of 
 the times, which would sacrifice all rights and all property to a 
 description of plunder called general convenience and utility. 
 I think it is the presence of this description of men in Par- 
 liament with the country gentlemen, and the great mer- 
 chants, bankers, and manufacturers, which constitutes the 
 great diff'erence between the House of Commons and those 
 assemblies abroad called ' Chambers of Deputies.' It is by 
 means of the representatives of the close corporations that 
 the great pi-oprietors of the country participate in political 
 power. I don't tliink that we could spare thirty or forty 
 of these representatives, or change them with advantage for 
 thirty or forty members elected for the great towns by any 
 new system. I am certain that the country w^ould be in-
 
 488 OX THE USE OF CLOSE EOHOUGHS. 
 
 jured by depriving meu of great property of political povrer, 
 besides the injury done to it by exposing tlie House of 
 Commons to a greater degree of popular influence. 
 
 " You will observe that I have now considered only the 
 smallest of all reforms — a reform which would satisfy nobody. 
 Yet it cannot be adopted without a serious departure from 
 principle (principle in the maintenance of which the smallest 
 as well as the greatest of us is interested), and by running 
 all the risks of those misfortunes which all wish to avoid. 
 
 " I tell you that we must not risk our great institutions 
 and large properties, personal as well as real. If Ave do 
 there is not a man of this generation, so young, so old, so 
 rich, so poor, so bold, so timid, as that he will not feel 
 the consec_[uences of this rashness. This opinion is founded 
 not on reasoning only, but on experience, and I shall never 
 cease to declare it." 
 
 Everybody at that time had some suggestion to make ; 
 and having, among others, consulted the Duke on the pro- 
 priety of forming constitutional societies, I received the 
 following answer : — 
 
 " I quite concur in all that you suggest as stejDS to be 
 taken, with the exception of the formation of societies. 
 "We must never forget the Eoman Catholic Association in 
 Ireland, in its various modifications and forms. There is 
 nothing so easy as to give a society a constitutional title, 
 and to hold out for it the most beneficent objects, and then 
 to turn it to the most mischievous purposes. Those who 
 have not had to deal with these mischievous societies, are 
 not aware, as we ' hacks ' are, of all that can be done with 
 them. I don't think that I could belong to one that had 
 the most innocent views and objects." 
 
 In 1834 Lord John Russell did me the unexpected favour 
 to present me to the chaplaincy of Chelsea Hospital. As 
 the ofter of the appointment came entirely unsolicited, and 
 as there was no accord at that time between Lord John's 
 policy of Parliamentary reform and the views which I was 
 known to entertain, the circumstance natm-ally excited somu
 
 niS ADVICE. 4S9 
 
 surprise ; and tlie same post wbich. conveyed to his lordship 
 my acknowledgments, carried a letter to the Duke, stating 
 how the case stood, and venturing to ask advice. I re- 
 ceived, with the least delay possible, the following an- 
 swer : — 
 
 " Strathfieldsaye, 12th February, 1834. 
 
 " I was in to^Ti yesterday ; and am just now returned, 
 and have received your note. 
 
 " I don't think that it will be disagreeable to you, or will 
 do any harm, to tell you what I know of your appointment. 
 
 " Lord John inquired about you from Lord Fitzroy 
 Somerset, who told him that he would apply to me about 
 you. The object of the inquiry was to know whether you 
 were a party-writer. 
 
 " I desired Lord Fitzroy to tell Lord John that you, as 
 most other good clergymen of the Church of England, were 
 a zealous Conservative politician ; but that I did not be- 
 lieve you had ever been a party-writer ; that when I was in 
 office I was anxious to promote you in the Church * * 
 
 * * * and that I had earnestly urged you, by all 
 
 means in your power, to avoid party-discussions ; that I 
 never heard of your having engaged in them ; and that I 
 firmly believed you had not. 
 
 " I learned no more upon the subject till I received your 
 letter. 
 
 " You see that the advice that I gave you was judicious ; 
 and that you are in the enjoyment of the advantage result- 
 ing from it. 
 
 " I shall be very sorry to lose your society at Walmer 
 Castle, but I hope that 1 shall see you in London." 
 
 One more specimen, in rather a diiferent style, and I pass 
 on to other matters. 
 
 In 1836, a Bill was brought in to effect certain changes 
 in the constitution of the Scotch universities. It was 
 greatly disliked by the High Church party in both king- 
 doms ; and one of these, hoping to engage the Duke's op- 
 position to it, called his attention to its assumed defects. 
 The following was the Duke's answer : —
 
 490 niS PATIENT INDUSTRY. 
 
 " London, 12tli June, 1S36. 
 " The question of the Scotch universities has not escaped 
 my attention. Care is taken that nothing should. Neither 
 has it escaped nie that this Bill is founded on the report of 
 a commission, appointed, I believe, by Sir Eobert Peel in 
 1828. We cannot blow hot one day and cold another on 
 such subjects : at least I cannot. Moreover, I know that 
 I should have nobody to support me on that subject." 
 
 Of the Duke's habits of patient industry it may well 
 appear superfluous to speak. We have seen how in India, 
 in the Spanish peninsula, and in France, hours which others 
 would have devoted to necessary repose were spent by him 
 in toil. And as if all this had not been sufficient to tax his 
 energies fully, he seems to have made copies of many of his 
 own letters, and to have arranged and docketed them all. 
 This, indeed, was a practice which he appears very early to 
 have begun, as if there had been present with him from the 
 outset a conviction that his name would sooner or later 
 become historical, and that means ought to be at hand of 
 connecting it only with the truths of history. And he never 
 abandoned the habit to the end. Boxes of his papers, 
 chronologically arranged, stood in their proper order at 
 Apsley House when he died, and stand there still. When 
 re-examined and re-sorted, a process to which the filial piety 
 of his son is now subjecting them, they will account, in a 
 great degree, for the manner in which every day of the 
 Duke's long life was spent. 
 
 A volume might be filled with anecdotes illustrative of 
 various traits in the Duke's character, — his perfect self-pos- 
 session in moments of difficulty and danger, his kindly dis- 
 position, his wit, and severe wisdom. 
 
 Of his self-possession on the field of battle I have given 
 in the course of this narrative several examples. Many more 
 might be added did the occasion require ; for no event in 
 war appeared to take him by surprise, no blunder on the 
 part of his subordinates discomposed him. He was equally 
 calm and collected on other occasions less in unison, as 
 might be assumed, Avilh his professional habits. He never
 
 HIS CALMNESS. 491 
 
 Aveut to sea "without encountering a storm ; he neA'er in 
 the wildest hurricane exhibited the smallest token of alarm. 
 At the opening of the Liverpool and INIanchester Eailway, — 
 an experiment, as was believed, full of peril, — he put himself 
 with child-like docility into the hands of the engineers, and 
 kept his seat, as they requested him to do, till the accident to 
 Mr Huskisson stopped the train. He was the first to reach 
 the wounded man, and to speak words of comfort to him. In- 
 deed he would have put a stop to the pageant, had it not 
 been explained to him that great public inconvenience would 
 have been the consequence. We have seen how he bore 
 himself when threatened with assassination on the King's 
 highway, and mobbed and assaulted iu the streets of Lon- 
 don, and as he was then, so he invariably appeared amid the 
 bitterest struggles and perplexities of political life. 
 
 The Duke's wit was sometimes caustic enough, but never 
 ill-natured. A gentleman, not remarkable for always saying 
 the right thing at the right moment, happened to dine in his 
 company one day, and during a pause in the conversation, 
 asked abruptly, " Duke, weren't you surprised at "Water- 
 loo?" " No," was the answer, delivered with a smile, " but 
 I am now." When Sir De Lacy Evans' operations were 
 going on near St Sebastian, the question was put, " What 
 will all this produce ?" " Probably, replied the Duke, " two 
 volumes in octavo." In 1815, the Commissioners for the 
 provisional Grovernment in Prance announced to him gravely 
 that the Empire was at an end. " I knew that a year ago." 
 A Colonial Bishop having remonstrated with the Secretary 
 of State because military guards were not turned out and 
 instructed to salute him, the minister sent the letter to the 
 Duke, who returned it with this remark upon the margin : 
 " The only attention which soldiers are to pay to the Eishop 
 must be to his sermons." Sometimes the Duke's mots hit 
 harder than he intended them to do. The late Sir William 
 Allen used to tell with great glee, that being sent for to 
 receive the price of his picture of the Battle of Waterloo, he 
 found the Duke counting over whole piles of bank notes. 
 Sir William, anxious to save the Duke's time, ventured to 
 observe that a cheque upon his Grace's banker would serve
 
 492 HIS GENEROSITY. 
 
 the purpose quite as well as notes. "WHiereupon tlie Duke, 
 not over aud above delighted with the interruption, looked 
 up and said, " Do you think I am going to let Coutts' 
 people know what a d — d fool I've been ? " A cavalry 
 regiment being suddenly ordered to the Cape, one of the 
 ofiicers, not remarkable for zeal in the performance of his du- 
 ties, applied for leave to exchange. The memorandum was 
 this : " He must sail or sell." 
 
 Of his kindly disposition, the following are manifestations. 
 An old gentleman of the name of Eobertson desired one day 
 particularly to see him. He was admitted to an audience, 
 and stated that he did not expect to live long, but could not 
 die in peace without seeing the Duke, and that he had tra- 
 velled from Scotland for that single purpose. Touched with 
 the old man's manner, the Duke not only expressed his 
 own gratification, but begged ]\Ir Hobertson to stay and dine 
 wuth him. " Many thanks," replied the old Scot, " I can't 
 do that. I have seen your Grrace, and have now nothing 
 more in this world to wish for : " and so withdrew. 
 
 He was walking one day in the streets of a manufacturing 
 town, when an operative accosted, and desired permission to 
 shake hands with, him. " Certainly," replied the Duke ; " I 
 am always happy to shake hands with an honest man." 
 
 He never met, in his rides and walks among the lanes 
 near Walraer or Strathfieldsaye, any poor man who claimed 
 to have served under him without giving him a sovereign. 
 He used to laugh at himself for doing so, and acknowledged 
 that it was ten to one against the object of his bounty de- 
 serving it ; but nothing would induce him to omit the prac- 
 tice. 
 
 But perhaps the most touching testimony to his gentle- 
 ness is that Avhich Mr Eichard Oastler, the great and honest 
 mob orator, has placed on record. Describing an interview 
 to which the Duke admitted him, and his own embarrass- 
 ment when he found himself closeted with the hero of the 
 age, Mr Oastler continues: " On that space" (a space free 
 from papers on the sofa), " at the bidding of the Duke, I sat. 
 His Grace standing before ine said, ' "Well, Mr Oastler, 
 what is it you wish to say to me ? ' I observed, ' It is very
 
 HIS ArnopjSMs. 403 
 
 strange that I should sit while the Duke of TVellingtou 
 stands, and in Apsley House too.' ' Oh,' said his Grace, ' if 
 you think so, and if it will please you better, I'll sit.' So 
 saying, he took a seat on an easy-chair, between the sofa and 
 the fire-place. I was then desired to proceed. Being 
 strangely affected with a reception so very different from 
 that anticipated, I expressed my surprise, and craved the 
 Duke's indulgence. Placing his right hand on my right 
 shoulder, his Grrace said, ' We shall never get on if you are 
 embarrassed. Forget that you are here ; fancy yourself 
 talking with one of your neighbours at Eixby, and proceed." 
 
 It is not wortli while to transcribe more of what passed 
 between them ; but the result must be given in Mr Oastler's 
 words. " In a short time I returned to Huddersfield, met 
 thousands of people at an out-door assembly, and told them 
 all that the Duke of "Wellington had told me. Oh how 
 they cheered ! " 
 
 The Duke's wisdom, like that of other wise men, was 
 shown more in his life than in his conversation ; yet certain 
 sayings of his have passed into aphorisms, and Avill never be 
 forgotten while the English language exists. Here are 
 a few of them : — 
 
 " A great country ought never to make little wars. 
 
 " Be discreet in all things, and so render it unnecessary to 
 be mysterious about any. 
 
 " The history of a battle is like the history of a ball. 
 
 " Animosity among nations ought to cease when hostili- 
 ties come to an end. 
 
 " He is most to blame who breaks the law, no matter what 
 the provocation may be under which he acts. 
 
 " One country has no right to interfere in the internal 
 affairs of another. Non-intervention is the law, intervention 
 is only the exception." 
 
 The Duke dined one day in Paris witli M. Cambaceres, 
 one of the most renowned gourmets of France. The host 
 having pressed a rechercJie dish upon the Duke, asked eager- 
 ly, when the plate ^ras cleared, how he had liked it. " It
 
 494 XEVER SERIOUSLY WOUNDED. 
 
 was excellent," replied the Duke ; " but to tell you the 
 truth, I don't care much -what I eat." " Good heavens ! " ex- 
 claimed Cambaceres, " don't care what you eat ! "VThy then 
 did you come here ? " 
 
 It is a remarkable fact in this great man's history, that 
 though always ready, often too ready, to expose himself in 
 action, he never received a wound which left a scar behind. 
 At Seringapatam, as his Indian correspondence shows, a 
 bullet tore the cloth of his over-alls and grazed his knee. 
 Again at Orthes, a spent ball struck him so sharply as to 
 iinhorse him. On this latter occasion, he was watching the 
 progress of the battle, — General Alava sitting on horseback 
 near him, — when a musket-ball struck the Spaniard severely 
 on that part of the person, any injury done to which is the 
 occasion more frequently of mirth than of commiseration. 
 The Duke, as was to be expected, laughed at Alava, but had 
 not long enjoyed his joke, when another ball, after hitting 
 the guard of his own sword glanced off, and gave him such 
 a bloAv as caused him to spring from his saddle and fall to the 
 ground. He got up, rubbed the part, laughed again, but 
 rather more faintly, remounted, and went throiigh the action ; 
 but for several daj'S afterwards he was unable to ride, and 
 suffered great pain. 
 
 It is almost more singular that he who carried on war in 
 so many parts of the world should never have lost a gun 
 to the enemy. " Eeturning with him one day from the 
 liunting-field," says Lord Ellesmere, " I asked him whether 
 he could form any calculation of the number of guns he had 
 taken in the course of his career." " No," he replied, " not 
 with any accuracy ; somewhere about 3000, I should guess. 
 At Oporto, after the passage of the Douro, I took the en- 
 tire siege-train of the enemy ; at Vittoria and "Waterloo I 
 took every gun they had in the field. "What, however, is 
 more extraordinary is, I don't think I ever lost a gun in my 
 life. After the battle of Salamanca," he went on to explain, 
 " three of my guns attached to some Portuguese cavalry 
 were captured in a trifling affair near Madrid, but they 
 were recovered the next day. In the Pyrenees, Lord Hill
 
 FELLOE' OF THE EOTAL SOCIETY. 495 
 
 found liimself obliged to throw eight or nine guns over a 
 jDrecipice ; but those also were recovered, and never fell 
 into the enemy's hands at all." 
 
 Though pretending to no eminence either in scholarship 
 or science, the Duke entertained the greatest respect for 
 both. On two separate occasions he expressed a desire to 
 be elected a Fellow of the Eoyal Society. At first his mean- 
 ing appears scarcely to have been understood, but the wish 
 being repeated, the Eoyal Society at once, and with pe- 
 culiar satisfaction, received him among its Fellows. He 
 was proposed by the late Marquis of Northampton, and se- 
 conded by Sir Robert Harry Inglis ; and he seems to have 
 been better pleased with this distinction, than with many 
 others conferred upon him by the Sovereigns and peoples 
 whom he had served. Again we find him brought into con- 
 trast with ZSTapoleon, in a matter where, at first sight, it might 
 appear that there was only parallelism. " I knew what I 
 ■was about," said the French Emperor, " when I caused my- 
 self to be elected member of the Institute. Our soldiers 
 follow me, not because I am brave, but because they believe 
 me to be a man of genius and well read." 
 
 The Duke's eye for a country was, as may be imagined, 
 singularly accurate. He could take in at a glance all the 
 features of any landscape through which he rode. And 
 which was, perhaps, more remarkable, he seemed intuitively 
 to divine the lie of a district beyond the limits to which his 
 gaze extended. This was shown upon one occasion in ra- 
 ther a curious way. 
 
 He was going to visit a friend in Eutlandshire, and find- 
 ing that Mr Croker had received an invitation to the same 
 house, he oiTered him a seat in his carriage. The offer was 
 accepted, and the two travellers, after exhausting other topics, 
 began to amuse themselves by guessing at the nature of the 
 country which lay on the farther side of various rano-es of 
 hill and down, as they approached them. The Duke's 
 guesses proved on all occasions to be so correct, that Mr 
 Croker at last demanded the reason. " The reason ? " re- 
 plied the Duke. " AYhy what have I been doing for the 
 greater part of my life, except that which we are doing now, — -
 
 49C HIS TEXACIOUS MEMORY. 
 
 trying to maue out from what I saw the shape of tlie country 
 which I could not see ?" 
 
 Strange to say, however, the same man, whose faculties 
 enabled him thus to draw inferences almost always correct 
 in regard to great matters, was remarkable for his blunders 
 in small matters of the same sort. The Duke was noted 
 for losing his way not only when riding back after recon- 
 noissances before the enemy, but when returning home 
 from the hunting-field near Stratiifieldsaye. 
 
 Of the great tenacity of the Duke's memory notice has 
 been taken elsewhere. It never forsook him to the last. 
 In 1843, when the terror of the Seikh invasion was at its 
 height, he was requested by the Government of the day to 
 draw up a plan for the defence of India. This paper or 
 memorandum he read " with great emphasis " to Lord 
 Ellesmere, who says, " It embraced all three Presidencies, 
 and was full of geographical details. It had been written, 
 as he told me, without reference either to a map or a gazet- 
 teer." 
 
 It was soon after this, that when called upon to name 
 three officers, one of whom might be selected to go out as 
 Lord Grough's successor in command of the army, he wrote, 
 " Sir Charles Napier, Sir Charles Napier, Sir Charles Napier." 
 
 I must bring these anecdotes to an end. Hundreds 
 more, equally characteristic, are doubtless in circulation, 
 every one of which deserves its own place here ; but already 
 the limits at my command are passed, the subject remaining 
 still unexhausted. If told in detail, they could scarcely 
 add to the measure of admiration in which, by all who know 
 how to value real greatness, the memory of the Duke of 
 "Wellington is beld. He was the grandest, because the 
 truest man, whom modern times have produced. He was 
 the wisest and most loyal subject that ever served and sup- 
 ported the Eaglish throne. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 JOHN GUILDS AND SON, PEJXTEKS.
 
 
 DATE DUE 
 
 
 
 0CT2( 
 
 ' IQRft 
 
 L 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 GAYLORD 
 
 
 
 PRINTED IN U.S.A. 
 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CA RIVERSIDE, LIBRARY 
 
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