i»A>»«aa*> f • • ;\ \ \, r: • •rN *:)#-. 1 ^iS^V^ 3ri^ HW^^K^ 1^ • \< %:tf^ v.: &%• 2>^ / cy,. % ■C^A^-Pi^^^^'y^/ i^^-^^y^/^^/ i^/,v/ '/■f /// /^2-/^/ 41^-^1 THE DME OF WELLINGTON LONDON PKINIED BY BPOTTISWOODE AKD CO. NEW-STBEEI SQUABE ^^ London Longrn a.-n & C THE LIFE OF AETHUR riEST DUKE OF WELLINGTON PARTLY FROM THE FRENCH OF M. BRIALMONT PARTLY FROM ORIGINAL DOCUMENTS BY THE EEV. G. U. GLEIG CHAPLAIN -GENERAL TO THE FORCES AND PEEBENDAET OF ST. PAUL'3 LONDON LONOMAN, GEEEN, LONGMAN, AND EOBEETS 1862 Stacfc Annex PREFACE. I HAVE endeavoured, in the following pages, so to describe the career, and paint the character of the great Duke of Wellington, as to leave httle which shall be note-worthy, nothing which may be important, to be supphed by future biographers. The restraints under which I lay, while translating M. Brialmont's valuable work, are happily removed. The pre- sent Duke, in the exercise of a frank discretion, has, by the publication of " The Supplementary Dispatches," taken the whole world into his confidence up to a certain point ; while other editors and compilers, with a more questionable right to do so, have of late partially raised the veil which he had not yet withdrawn. Such partial revelations, however, are often calculated to do harm, where none may have been intended ; because, in telling less than the truth, they not unfrequently tell untruths. I have, therefore, felt it my duty to speak out, and to vindicate, in so doing, the Duke's consistency with as httle outrage as possible, either to the consistency or to the self-esteem of others. In following the footsteps of the Duke as a soldier, M. Brialmont has been now, as he was before, my principal guide. I have not, however, considered it necessary on the present occasion to adhere very rigidly, either to M. Brial- mont's manner of telhng the tale, or to his criticisms on par- ticular operations. The wars arising out of the first French VI PREFACE. Eevolution are so familiar to the bulk of English readers, that to go into them again much in detail could only weary. But I shall have most imperfectly accomphshed my pur- pose if the sequence of events be at all obscure ; or the professional reader cut off from any one of those lessons in the art of war which the Duke's masterly management of armies sets forth at every turn. I confess that my great object has been to produce a book which shall come within the reach and be level with the understandings of the great body of my countrymen. They have a right to be supphed with an authentic history of the greatest man and truest patriot of modern times. As his life was spent in their service, so has his character, cleared by time from the mists of prejudice, become public property. It is a property, also, the value of which cannot be over-esti- mated. For though his views of things may not be accepted by all as invariably the right views, there is but one opinion — there can be only one — respecting the motives upon which he invariably acted. Let me, therefore, express a hope that this cheaper and condensed edition of a work, which, when first pubhshed, was of necessity both voluminous and expensive, may find its way into the hands of Enghshmen of all ranks and call- ings. For there is no man so high, so low, so rich, so poor, that he may not derive incalculable benefit from it ; if it stimulate him to follow in all things, as the great Duke did before him, the guiding star of Duty through fife. It now remains to offer my hearty thanks to all who have assisted me in collecting materials for the present under- taking. Foremost among these is the Duke of Welhngton, who, with the utmost kindness and hberahty, gave me free access to the papers of his illustrious father. I cannot suffi- ciently express my sense of the obligation thus conferred, without which, indeed, it would have been impossible for me to have done common justice to my subject. To Earl Russell, PREFACE. Vll likewise, I am not now for the first time indebted. He permitted me to read at the Foreign Office, and to make any use that I pleased of the Duke's dispatches from the various Congresses and Courts at which he was from time to time present. In hke manner the late Lord Charles Wellesley ; the Earl of ClanwiUiam ; the Marquis and Marchioness of Sahsbury ; Miss Bmxlett Coutts ; the Eeverend W. Wagner, Vicar of Brighton ; Captain Watts, and Mr. Algernon Greville, have all been of the greatest service to me. Nor must I forget my old friend and comrade, General Sir George Brown, for many years Adju- tant-General of the army, who has favoured me with letters which throw much light upon the Duke's mode of trans- actino; business at the Horse Guards. Finally, I may be permitted to add, that my own recol- lections of the great man whose biographer circumstances have enabled me to become, are not only clear but in some measure sacred ; they must abide with me while life remains. To have been the guest of the Duke of Welhngton for days and nights together ; to have hstened to his words of wisdom in the discussion of questions, both of the past, and of what was then the present ; to have observed his habits in the domestic circle, and interchanged ideas with him on many subjects ; these are occurrences in his own Hfe on which any man, be his position in society what it will, may well look back with satisfaction. And in my case they entitle me to say, that the picture which I have assisted in drawing has not been completed without some personal knowledge of the original. G. E. GLEIG. London: Feb. 1862. CONTENTS. CHAP. PAGE I, — THE 'W'ELLESLEY PEDIGREE — BIRTH OF ARTHUR HIS SCHOOL CAREER ENTERS THE ARMY BECOMES AIDE-DE-CAMP TO THE LORD LIEl'TEXANT — A MEMBER OF THE HOUSE OF COMMONS IN IRELAND HIS FIRST CAMPAIGN 1 II.— COLONEL -^-ESLEY "WISHES TO RETIRE FROM THE ARMY EMBARKS FOR THE "WEST INDIES — PROCEEDS TO INDIA — HIS EXERTIONS THERE "WAR WITH TIPPOO F.ALL OF SEHINGAPATAM WELLESLEY LEFT IN CHARGE OF THE PROVINCE 10 III. "W'ELLESLEY's CmX administration CAMPAIGN AGAINST DHOONDIAH- WAUGH IS SENT TO CEYLON EXPEDITION TO EGYPT RESUMES HIS COMMAND IN 5IYSORE MAHRATTA WAR — BATTLE OF ASS AYE . .27 IV. — MAHRATTA ■R'AR CONTLNTJED BATTLE OF ARGAM PEACE 'WITH THE MAHRATTAS — ■WELLESLEY KNIGHTED HE PREPARES TO QUIT INDIA MARKS OF RESPECT OFFERED TO HIM BY ALL CLASSES . . . .49 V. — ■W'ELLESLEY RETURNS HOME — IS PLACED ON THE STAFF COMMANDS A BRIGADE IN SUSSEX ENTERS PARLIAMENT BECOMES CHIEF SECRETARY FOR IREL.YND THE SPIRIT OF HIS ADMINISTRATION . . . .59 yj. EXPEDITION TO COPENHAGEN BATTLE OF KEOGE — WELLESLEY's CARE OF THE r>rHABITANTS RETURNS HOME HIS IRISH ADMIMSTRATION HIS MINUTES ON SOUTH AMERICA 75 VII. — FRENCH INVASION OF THE SPANISH PENINSUXA M'ELLESLEY SAILS WITH A FORCE FROM CORK VISITS CORUNNA LANDS IN MONT)EGO BAY AFFAIR OF ROLISSA — BATTLE OF VIMIERA ARRIVAL OF SIR HARRY BURRARD AND SIR HUGH DALRYMPLE CONVENTION OF CENTRA ■WELLESLEY RETURNS HOJIE 85 ^^II. — WELLESLEY IN LONDON COURT OF ENQUIRY RESUMES HIS IRISH DUTIES — BRIEF RETROSPECT OF AFFAIRS LN SP.UN BATTLE OF CORUNNA — WELLESLEY APPOINTED TO COMMAND A NEW ARMY 103 IX. — CONDITION OF THE HOSTILE ARMLES WELLESLEY ADVANCES UPON OPORTO — PASSAGE OF THE DOURO — M.iRCHES AGAINST VICTOR BATTLE OF TALAVERA ..... .... ... 114 X. — ADV.ANCE OF SOULT — - \V'ELLESLEY MARCHES TO MEET HIM R.VPID AND SKILFUL RETREAT ACROSS THE TAGUS VISITS LISBON AND CADIZ CH.VNGE OF POSITION . . . 131 XL— RELATIVE STRENGTH AND POSITION OF THE BELLIGERENTS M.1SSENA TRUCES COMMAND OF THE FRENCH ARMY FALL OF CIUDAD RODRIGO AND .\LMEIDA AFFAIR ON THE COA RETREAT OF THE ENGLISH BATTLE OF BUSACO THE LINES OF TORRES VEDRAS ,...,. 142 S CONTENTS. CHAP. PAGE Xn. MASSENA BEFOEE THE LINES HIS RETREAT WELLINGTON ON THE GUA- DIANA BATTLE OF FUENTES DE HONORO FIRST SIEGE OF BADAJOZ BATTLE OF ALBXIERA 157 Xin. MASSENA IS RECALLED MARMONT COMMANDS THE FRENCH ARMIES "WELLINGTON UNDERTAKES THE SECOND SIEGE OF BADAJOZ MAN(EIIVRES IN ESTREMADURA TWO ASSAULTS FALL— HE RETURNS TO BEIRA CIUDAD RODRIGO RELIEVED BY THE FRENCH AFFAIR OF ELBODON THE ARMIES GO INTO QUARTERS 174 XIV. SIEGE AND CAPTURE OF CIUDAD RODRIGO MARCH TO ESTREMADURA CAPTURE OF BADAJOZ 182 XV. WINTER QUARTERS STRENGTH AND POSITION OF THE BELLIGERENTS THE CAMPAIGN OPENS CAPTURE OF SALAMANCA MANOEUVRES BATTLE OF SALAMANCA — "tt'ELLINGTON IN MADRID . . . .191 XVI. WELLINGTON IN MADRID HE MOVES TO THE NORTH — SIEGE OF BURGOS JUNCTION OF JOSEPH, SUCHET, AND SOULT FAILURE BEFOEE BURGOS RETREAT INTO PORTUGAL WINTER QUARTERS . 207 XVn. LORD "UTILLINGTON AT CADIZ PREPARATIONS FOR THE CAMPAIGN OF 1813 MARCH ON BURGOS BURGOS BLO^R'N UP MARCH ON VIT- TORIA BATTLE OF VITTORIA . .221 XVIII. — BLOCKADE OF PAMPELUNA SIEGE OF SAN SEBASTIAN BATTLE OF THE PYRENEES — FALL OF SAN SEBASTIAN GENERAL STATE OF AFFAIRS 237 XIX. PASSAGE OF THE BIDASSOA BATTLE OF THE NIVELLE THE SPANIARDS SENT BACK BATTLES OF THE 9tH, IOtH, IItH, 12tH, AND 13tH OF DECEMBER -WINTER QUARTERS 252 XX. CAMPAIGN OF 1814 PASSAGE OF THE TRIBUTARIES TO THE ADOUR BATTLE OF ORTHES PASSAGE OF THE ADOUR BAYONNE IN- VESTED 265 XXI. ADVANCE TO TOULOUSE BATTLE OF TOULOUSE SORTIE FROM BAYONNE CESSATION OF HOSTLLITIES , 280 XXn. — THE DUKE IN PARIS AT MADRID IN ENGLAND RETURNS TO FRANCE THE DXUCE IN VIENNA — IN THE NETHERLANDS WARLIKE PREPARATIONS 291 XXin. DISPOSITIONS OF THE ALLIED ARMIES — BATTLES OF LIGNY AND QUATRE BRAS RETREAT OF THE ENGLISH TO WATERLOO BATTLE OF WATERLOO 307 XXIV. THE DUKE ENTERS PABIS SMOOTHS DOWN PRINCE BLUCHER THE ARMY OF OCCUPATION THE EXECUTION OF LABEDOYERE AND NEY THE duke's LIFE TWICE ATTEMPTED FRANCE PACIFIED THE ARMY BREAKS UP 324 XXV. THE DUKE IN THE CABINET STATE OF THE COUNTRY CATO STREET CONSPIRACY queen's TRIAL — CONTINENTAL POLITICS . . .343 XXVI. THE CORONATION THE QUEEn's DEATH AND FUNERAL THE DUKE VISITS PARIS — CONDUCTS GEORGE IV. OVER THE FIELD OF WATERLOO PARTIAL CHANGES IN THE MINISTRY THE DUKE BEGINS TO TAKE PART IN THE DEBATES DEATH OF LORD CASTLEREAGH THE DUKE AND WILLIAM ALLEN CONGRESS OF VERONA THE DUKE AT PARIS HIS INSTRUCTIONS TO LORD FITZROY SOMERSET .... 357 CONTENTS XI CHAP. PAGE XXVn. FRENCH INVASION OF SPAIN STATE OF THE CABINET MR. CANNING SHIFTY GRADUAL CHANGE OF COMMERCIAL POLICY ITS RESULTS STATE OF IRELAND — RISE OF THE CATHOLIC ASSOCIATION ITS DEMANDS 391 XXVIU. THE duke's ILLNESS MR. STEPHENSON TREATS HIM FOR DEAFNESS THE AFFAIRS OF PORTUGAL AND OF RUSSIA MR. CANNING' S EXPE- DITION TO PORTUGAL THE DUKE's MISSION TO ST. PETERSBURG . 400 XXIX. PROGRESS OF PUBLIC DISSENSION IN REGARD TO ROMAN CATHOLIC DISABILITIES AND REFORM IN PARLIAMENT THE ELECTIONS OF 1826 — DEATH OF THE DUKE OF YORK DUKE OF WELLINGTON COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF ILLNESS OF LORD LIVERPOOL THE DUKE AND MR. CANNING — THE LATTER PRIME MINISTER THE DUKE's DEFENCE OF HIS OWN PROCEEDINGS THE DUKE OF CLARENCE LORD HIGH ADMIRAL 416 XXX. THE DUKE IN OPPOSITION MR. CANNING's CORN BILL THE DUKE's AMENDMENT EST THE LORDS THE BILL ABANDONED THE WHIGS FALL OFF FROM MR. CANNING HE LOSES HEART STATE OF GREECE DEATH OF ME. CANNING LORD GODERICH MINISTER BATTLE OF NAVARINa INTERNAL DIFFERENCES IN THE GOVERN- MENT LORD GODERICH RESIGNS — THE DUKE PRIME MINISTER MR. HUSKISSON's SPEECH AT LIVERPOOL NOTICED BY THE DUKE IN THE HOUSE OF LORDS 422 XXXI. EAST RETFORD AND PENRYN DIFFICULTY MR. HUSKISSON, LORD DUDLEY, AND LORD PALMERSTON RETIRE FROM THE DUKE's ADMINIS- TRATION, AND ARE SUCCEEDED BY SIR GEORGE MURRAY, MR. VESEY FITZGERALD, AND SIR HENRY HARDINGE TEST AND CORPORATION ACTS THE CLARE ELECTION AND ITS CONSEaUENCES AFFAIRS OF TTOKEY AND GREECE THE DUKE's VIEWS OF THE CATHOLIC QUESTION 427 XXXII. THE duke's PLAN OF ROMAN CATHOLIC EMANCIPATION HE COMMUNI- CATES WIEH HIS COLLEAGUES, AND WITH THE HEADS OF THE CHURCH THE RESULTS OF THESE COMMUNICATIONS .... 444 XXXin. MR. DAWSON's SPEECH ITS EFFECTS ON THE PUBLIC MIND THE duke's CORRESPONDENCE WITH DR. CURTIS LORD ANGLESEY RE- CALLED DISCUSSIONS WITH THE KING THE ROMAN CATHOLIC RELIEF BILL THE DUEL WITH LORD WENCHELSEA .... 454 XXXIV. CONSEQUENCES OF THE ROMAN CATHOLIC RELIEF BILL BREAK UP OF PARTIES BIRMINGHAM POLITICAL UNION DEATH OF GEORGE IV. DISSOLUTION REVOLUTION IN FRANCE NEW PARLIAMENT THE DUKE RESIGNS 465 XXXV. THE REFORM BILL DISSOLUTION OF PARLIAMEMT — THE DUKE's WT:ND0WS BROKEN THE BILL THROWN OUT IN THE LORDS RIOTS IN LONDON THE DUKE's LIFE THREATENED AT DEAL . . . 479 XXXVI. — THE RECESS — PREPARATIONS FOR A RENEWED STRUGGLE — THE DUKE AT WALMER THE WAVERERS SUBSTANCE OF HIS COR- RESPONDENCE ■V\^TH THEM AND OTHERS 487 XXXVU. REFORM BILL SECOND READING CARRIED THE DUKE ATTEMPTS TO FORM AN ADMINISTRATION HE FAILS THE BELL PASSED THE duke's LIFE ATTEMPTED ON THE 18tH OF JUNE .... 508 Xll CONTENTS. CHAP. PAGE XXXVUI. THE DUKE AFTER THE REFOHM BILL HIS GREAT INFLUENCE IN THE HOUSE OF LORDS FALL OF EARL GREY LORD MELBOURNE MINISTER HIS DISMISSAL SIR ROBERT PEEl's GOVERNMENT THE DUKE CHANCELLOR OF THE UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD HIS TENDERNESS OF HEART 525 XXXIX. DEATH OF "WILLIAM IV. ACCESSION OF QUEEN VICTORIA — THE DUKE IN AND OUT OF PARLIABIENT THE DUKe's GREAT AFFECTION FOR HER MAJESTY — HIS PROCEEDINGS AS COMMANDER-IN-CHrEF THE CORN-LAW QUESTION . . 539 XL. THE DUKE IN PRIVATE LIFE HIS PECULIARITIES HIS FRIENDS MR. AEBUTHNOT — HIS HABITS HIS ANXIETY ON THE SUBJECT OF NATIONAL DEFENCES HIS LAST ILLNESS, DEATH, AND FIHSTERAL . 575 XLI. THE DUKE AS A MAN, A SOLDIER, A STATESMAN HIS PLAYFUL- NESS HIS KINDLINESS — HIS SELF-POSSESSION HIS ■ft^ISDOM . 608 APPENDIX. M. BRIALMONT's ESTIALATE of the duke's MILITARY CHARACTER . . , 641 INT)EX 719 LIST OF MAPS AND PLANS. POETEAIT OF THE DtJKE OF WELLINGTON 1. MAP OF HINDOSTAN 2. ,, SPAIN AND POBTUGAL 3. ,, HOLLAND AND BELGIUM 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. BATTLE OF TALAVERA BATTLE OF BUSACO LINES OF TORRES VEDRAS BATTLE OF FUENTES d'oNOEA SIEGE OF CIUDAD BODRIGO SIEGE OF BADAJOS BATTLE OF SALAMANCA SIEGE OF BURGOS BATTLE OF TITTORIA SIEGE OF ST. SEBASTIAN BATTLE OF OETHES BATTLE OF TOULOUSE BATTLE OF -WATERLOO Frontispiece face page 1 90 300 la MEMOIR DUKE OF WELLINGTON. CHAPTEE I. THE AVELLESLET PEDIGREE. — BIRTH OF AETHtTR. — HIS SCHOOL CAREER. — ENTERS THE ARMY. — BECOMES AIDE-DE-CAMP TO THE LORD LIEUTEN^ANT. — A MEMBER OE THE HOUSE OE COMMOISrS IN IRELAND. — HIS FIRST CAMPAIGN. The original name of the family from which Arthur, Duke of Wellington, derived his descent, was Colley, or Cowley. Its con- nection with Ireland began in the reign of Henry VIII., when two brothers, Walter and Eobert Colley, j^assed over from Eutlandshire, and settled in the county of Kilkenny. Both appear to have done well in the land of their adoption ; for we find among their descendants men distinguished in the army, at the bar, and in the Church. But with Walter and his children alone we are called upon to deal, Walter having been the immediate ancestor of the subject of the present memoir. Another family, likewise of English origin, had taken root at an earlier period in West Meath and Eoscommon. Their patronymic was Wesley, and they owned at one time considerable landed pro- perty in both coimties. But they do not appear to have made themselves conspicuous either in public or private life; indeed we hear nothing of them till about the middle of the seventeenth century, when Garret Wesley married the great grand-daughter of that Walter of whom we have just spoken as one of tlie joint founders of the Colley family in Ireland. The marriage in question appears not to have been fruitful, but it led to a close intimacy between the two houses, iiisomucli that B 2 MEMOIR OP THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1769. Grarret Wesley adopted one of the sous of his brother-in-law, and made him his heir. This was Eichard, the youngest son of Henry Colley, by his wife, the only daughter of Sir Eichard Usher. Eichard took, as indeed he was required to do, the name and arms of Wesley ; and thus a family destined to become rich in statesmen and warriors, relinquished its proper patronymic and assumed another which had already attained to no mean distinction in the religious history of Great Britain. Eichard Colley Wesley sat for some years in the Irish House of Commons, and in 1747 was raised to the peerage by the style of Baron Mornington. He was succeeded in his title and estates by his eldest son Gfarret, a man of considerable talent as a musical composer, and an excellent performer on the organ ; who, marrying in 1759 the eldest daughter of Arthur Hill Viscount Dungannon, was, in the year following, advanced by Greorge III. to the dignity of an earldom. It is said of Garret, first Earl of Mornington, as it had been said of his father the first Baron, that he was a good deal addicted to political intrigue. If this was really the case, he certainly did not intrigue as far as his own interests were concerned to much purpose, for he died in 1781, leaving his widow with nine children in what may fairly be described, looking to their social position, as very straitened circumstances. Of this Garret, first Earl of Mornington, Arthur, afterwards the great Duke of Wellington, was the fom-th son. It is a curious fact that authorities still differ as to both the day and the place of his birth. A vote of the Irish Parliament, as well as the assertion of his nurse, would appear to fix the occurrence on the 6th of March, 1769. The parish register of St. Peter's, in Dublin, seems to show that he was baptized on the 30th of April, v/hile a letter from his mother, as well as his own habit of keeping the day, marked the 1st of May as that on which he first saw the light. For obvious reasons we are inclined to consider his own and his mother's judgment in the matter to be correct, and to account for the discrepancy between their statement and those of others, by attributing it to the confusion which not nnfrequently took place even then in dealing with the new and old styles. Be this, how- ever, as it may, one curious coincidence seems to be established, viz. that the same year brought into the world the two most remarkable men of the nineteenth century — Napoleon Buonaparte, and Arthur, Duke of Wellington. The same uncertaint}^ which prevails respecting the date of Arthur Wesley's birth affects the place where he was born. A Dublin journal claims for the capital of Ireland the honour of having 1784. WESLEY AT ETOX. 3 received liim into the world ; while the woman who attended his mother through her accoucliement, asserts that he was born at Dan- gan Castle, county of West Meath. There is no evidence to show which statement deserves to be credited, a circumstance not a little to be wondered at considering the space which Arthur Wellesley is destined to fill in English history. Yet the marvel is quite as great that, of the childhood and early youth of Wellesley himself, not one trustworthy tradition should survive. The truth we believe to be that childhood and early j^outh were laden for the Duke of Wel- lington with few very happy memories. It is certain that he never spoke of these seasons except abruptly, and as it were by accident ; and as he kept no journal, nor left any loose memoranda behind, there is nothing to which his biographer can refer as indicating how far, in his case, the boy was father to the man. From various incidental circumstances we learn that Arthur was not the favourite son of his mother, and that she never thought it necessary to disguise her sentiments towards him. Clever her- self, and by no means the slave of maternal feeling, she seems to have valued her children according to their intellectual capacities alone ; and believing Arthur to be the dunce of the family, she not only treated him with indifference, but in some degree neglected his education. We have heard him say that he was sent when very young to a preparatory school in Chelsea ; that nobody took the smallest pains with him there, and that he entered tiie fourth form at Eton as ill-grounded in all that is usually required of a lad of his age as could well be. His career in Eton itself we know to have been wholly undistinguished. While Lord Mornington, his elder brother, afterwards Marquis of Wellesley, carried all before him, Arthur gained no honours of any kind, but passed among his companions as a boy of very ordinary abilities, as well on the play-ground as in the school-room. Neither does it appear that he contracted any of those friendships which at Eton, almost more than any Vt^here else, are of traditionary growth. He played cricket, swam, and rowed like the rest of the school ; but either because his sojourn there was brief, or that his disposition was then Avhat it continued to be for some years afterwards, reserved and dreamy, we do not hear of his having entered with any of them into habits of close intimacy. The only anecdote respecting him which has come down to us on reliable authority is that which the late Mr. Robert Smith told, long after the Duke's fame had become the property of the nation, in a letter to his brother, the witty canon of St. Paul's. In substance it was this : — Robert, or as he was usually called Bobus Smith, was bathing- one day in the Thames, when Arthur Wesley passed by. Wesley B 2 4 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1787. took it into his head to throw a small stone or clod at the swimmer, and was immediately threatened that if the act were repeated, Smith would come ashore and thrash him. As a matter of course another clod and another were thrown, whereupon Bobus landed, and without waiting to dress, struck the first blow. A sharp battle ensued, which ended in favour of the youth who certainly had not on that occasion moral right upon his side. A very simple and common-place story this. Yet it is absolutely all which either tradition or history enables us to tell of the Eton days of the greatest man whom Eton itself has ever produced.* Having come to the conclusion that Arthiu- was the dullest of her sons, Lady Mornington determined to send him into the army ; and in order to fit him as far as she believed he could be fitted for that or any other profession, she withdrew him from Eton soon after he had passed into the remove, and sent him to the military academy of Angers, in France. There, as at Eton, he seems to have established no reputation for himself; except it were that of a young man who was not too much given to work, but who never- theless, contrived seldom to be behind either in his studies or in his military exercises. He made the acquaintance, however, of several good old French families resident in the town or in its vicinity, and learned from them both to speak the language as it was then spoken at Court and to write it idiomatically. On the 7th of March, 1787, Mr. Wesley was appointed to an ensigncy in the 41st Eegiment of Foot, and on the 25th of Decem- ber following, he became lieutenant. He was still a shy, awkward lad, in whom the fair sex in particular saw nothing to admire ; as the following anecdote, for the authenticity of which the late Lady Aldborough is responsible, seems to prove. He was at a ball one night, and as usual could not find a partner. Inheriting his father's taste for music, he consoled himself by sitting dowm near the band which happened to be a remarkably good one. By and by the party broke up, when the other officers present were taken home by their lady friends, while young Wesley v/as by common consent left to travel with the fiddlers. Old Lady Ald- borough on one occasion put the Duke in mind of the circum- stance, after he had become a great man, at which he laughed heartily, while she added with great naivete "We should not leave you to go home with the fiddlers now." Mr. Wesley attained the rank of captain on the 30th of June, * A story is indeed told of his having pointed out a particular tree to his sons, when he took tliem down to enter at Eton, and saying that he perfectly recollected climbing that tree one day, and sketching, when seated there, the whole of his after career. This seems to us, knowing the man, to be highly improbable. 1790. WESLEY IN DUBLIN. 3 1791, and on the 30th of April, 1793, he was appointed to tlie 33rd Kegimeut of the line as major. His subsequent 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 con- sequence 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 1796, 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 per- fectly true that till he arrived at the command of a regiment no opportunity was afforded 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 way no doubt, but still to good purpose ; and he addicted himself from the outset to a habit which remained with him to the last, that of acquainting himself in all manner of odd ways with every- thing 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. We have often heard him say that the power of rapid and correct calculation was his forte, and that if circumstances had not made him what he was, he would probably have become distinguished 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 Commons for the family borough of Trim. He was then a captain of cavalry and aide-de-camp to the Lord Lieutenant, — a somewhat perilous position for a youth, who, without any other resources than his military pay, found himself thrown into the very vortex of a * The Duke's first and least scrupulous patron was Earl Westmoreland. He was Lord Lieutenant of Ireland when Arthur WeUesley received his first commission, took the youth at once upon his staff, and heaped promotion upon him. Lord Westmoreland's court was remarkaLle for tlie low state of its morality, and the excess of its extra- Tagance. That of Lord Camden, which came next, offered to it in both respects a striking contrast. B 3 6 MEMOIE OF THE DUKE OP WELLINGTOX. 1790. 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 pecuniary difficulties ; and stories are told of his being- helped out of them b}'' tradesmen, one of whom, a draper named Dillon, paid his bills. We 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 conversation. We have repeatedly heard him discuss the subject of debt which he de- nounced 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 tenacious memory could have forgotten them. It is impossible to conceive that one so rigidly adherent to truth in small matters as well as in great, would, in this solitary instance, have stepped aside from it. Of his career as an Irish senator no record has been preserved. He seems to have spoken but rarely, and never at any length. His votes were of course given in support of the party to which he belonged, but otherwise he entered very little into the business of the House. Neither can we discover 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 possessed of great personal charms, and a prodigious fa- vourite 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 positiA^e engagement, 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 go- vernment determined to afford to Holland, against which the French armies were moving, the military supj)ort which she 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 W9.s about to be formed out of the flank companies of different regi- ments of guards. The application was refused, and Captain Wesley continued to act as aide-de-camp in Dublin, till pro- moted into the 33rd of the Line, of which regiment he toolc command on the 30th of September, as lieutenant-colonel. From 1794. WESLEY IN THE NETHERLANDS. 7 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 preserved ever since. He looked nari-owly 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 satis- faction to find that by every general officer who inspected it, the 33rd was pronounced to be the best drilled and most efficient reo'iment mthin the limits of the Irish command. So passed his time till towards the end of May, 1794, when the 33rd received orders to proceed to Cork, and embark there for foreign service. Without a moment's delay Colonel Wesley re- signed his seat in the Irish House of Commons, and hastened to 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 Brittany ; 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 expf^ditioDary corps had been entrusted, was directed to proceed with it to the assistance of the Duke of York. With the first division of that corps Colonel Wesley put to sea. He arrived at Ostend early in June, and Lord Moira coming in, a few days subsequently, with the main body of the troops, immediate preparations were made to open the campaign. With Lord Moira's successful march from Ostend to Malines we are not here concerned. Colonel Wesley took no part in it, for he was sent round by water with his own and other battalions to Antwerp ; — upon which point not long afterwards the corps of the Duke of York and of the Prince of Orange fell back. Both had sustained reverses, the former at Oudenarde, the latter at Fleurus ; and both were separated from the Austrian army by the issues of the action at Montague de Fer, 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 marched his own. and the Dutch troops upon the Mouse, hoping from his position there to cover Holland. Never were grosser blunders committed, except indeed by the French Com- mittee of Public Safety, which interfered to prevent Grenerals Pischegru and Jourdain from taking advantage of the opportunity which these false movements presented. Had the Allies known how to make war, they would have concentrated after the affair of Fleurus near Brussels, and thence assumed the offensive. Had the councils of the French been more wisely directed, they would have fallen with all their force upon each retreating corps separately, B 4 8 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLIXGTOX. 1795. and destroyed 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 severally desirous of occupying. It was in the month of July, and in the lines covering Antwerp, that 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 Holland. On the 15th of the same month it was engaged in a serious affair with the right of the re- publican army. Anxious 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 dii-ected General Aber- crombie, with two battalions of the guards, four of the line, a battery of artillery, and a cou^Dle of squadrons of horse, to dislodge them. The English, though they attacked with much gallantry, sustained a repulse, and being closely pursued, would have pro- bably been cut to pieces, had not Wesley with great promptitude, deployed his battalion and checked the pursuers. The village was not retaken, but this judicious move arrested the ardour of the enemy, and the English were enabled to continue their retreat in good order, and without heavy loss. Wesley's judgment and coolness attracted that day the notice of Greneral Dundas, who seized the earliest opportunity, after the Duke of York withdrew from the command, to mark his sense of the young soldier's merits. In January, 1795, Wesley was placed at the head of a brigade, consisting of three weak battalions, and directed to cover the further retreat of the army. And a service of extreme difficulty, hardship, 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 its severity. 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 country were exhausted; the more populous towns, imbued with republican opinions, had become decidedly hostile ; and fortress after fortress opened its gates, the Dutch garrisons going over to the invaders. Still, when- ever the day of battle came, the English did their duty ; and again, in an affair near Meteren, between the Wahl and the Leek, Colonel Wesley greatly distinguished himself. But the game was up. On the 2nd of December, 1794, the Duke of York had given over the command to the Hanoverian General, Count Walmoden, and before the end of the following January, Amsterdam, Daventer, Caerboden, 1795. WESLEY'S MILITARY CRITICISM. 9 Sneppen, and Emclen, were one by one evacuated. Notliing 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 neces- sity of submitting 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 the army, the countless blunders which day by day were committed conveyed to him lessons and warnings which he neither overlooked nor forgot. There was divided command without talent enough anywhere to lessen the inconveniences inseparable from it. There was a total absence of forethought, of arrangement, of system. There were national jealousies and heartburnings innumerable. Sometimes one day, sometimes two would elapse without a morsel 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 per- form 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. " You 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." The consequence was, as M. Brialmont well observes, "that soldiers admirably drilled, brave and patient under hardships, suffered only reverses ; while the young conscripts of France, badly dressed and miserably equipped, yet led by experienced officers, achieved a succession of brilliant victories." The consideration of these facts left an indelible impression on the mind of our great hero, and taught him early to perceive the sort of reforms in organisation, management, and discipline of which the English army stood in need. 10 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1795. CHAP. II. COLONEL ATESLEY -WISHES TO EETIRE FK05I THE AEMY. — E5IBAEKS POK THE WEST INDIES. mOCEEDS TO INDIA. HIS EXERTIONS THERE. — WAR WITH TIPPOO. — FALL OE SERIN GAP ATAM. — AVELLESLEY LEEX IN CHAEaE OE THE PROVINCE. Early in the spring of 1795 Colonel Wesley landed with his regi- ment at Harwich. He carried it to Warley, in Essex, where a camp was formed. After which he proceeded on a short leave of absence to London, and by and by to Ireland. There seems to have been considerable pressure upon his mind at this time, though the immediate causes of it do not appear. Probably straitened circumstances and the desire to fulfil an honourable engagement may have weighed upon him. But however this may be, it is certain that he thought seriously of retiring from the service, and that he consulted his brother. Lord Mornington, as to the line of life which it might be judicious afterwards to follow. The result was the following;' interestincr letter to Lord Camden : — "Trim, June 25, 1795. "My Lord, *' I have frequently intended to speak to your Excellency upon the subject upon which I am now going to trouble you, and Iliave always been prevented by the fear that you should imagine that I was pressing myself upon you in an indecent manner. But as I told you in London that I should take some opportunity of stating the claims which I thought I had upon the Government of Ireland, I hope you will not conceive that I pre- sume iipon your kindness and partiality in so doing at present, as I assure you nothing but the circumstances imder which I labour would induce me to trouble your Excellency's Government at any time. " The offices towards which Lord Mornington has desired me to look are those of the revenue and treasury boards, and considering the persons who are at present at those boards, and those ^vho it is said are forthwith to be appointed to vacancies likely to be made at them, I hope that I shall not be suj^posed to place myself too high in desiring to be taken into con- sideration upon the first vacancy at either of them. If your Excellency and Mr. Pelham are of opinion that the offices at those boards are too high for me, of course you will say so ; and as I am convinced that no man 1793. WISHES TO QUIT THE ARMY. II is so bad a judge of the justice of a claim as lie wlio makes it, I trust you will not believe that I shall feel otherwise towards you than as I have always felt, with sentiments of the greatest regard, and with an anxious wish to render you and your Government every service in my power, in whatever situation I may be placed. With those sentiments I accompanied you to Ireland, and whatever may be your decision on the subject, I shall maintain them. You will probably be surprised at my desiring a civil, instead of a military office. It certainly is a departure from the line Avhich I prefer, but I see the manner in which the military offices are filled, and I don't wish to ask you for that which I know you cannot give me, " I have now delivered my mind from a considerable burden ; and although the necessities under which I labour, from different circumstances, have nothing to do Avith the question, whether I have a claim to the offices I have mentioned, I again repeat that nothing but them would induce me to trouble yoiu' Excellency's Government at any time. " I have the honour to be, my lord, * " Your Excellency's most faithful and obedient servant, " A. Wesley." How trivial are the accidents on which the affairs of men appear to turn ? Had Lord Camden received with favour Colonel Wesley's application, the colonel would have probably settled down into a useful public servant in civil life ; and what in that case, would have been the fate of the Spanish peninsula, of Napoleon I., and of Europe ? But Lord Camden did not receive the application favourably, and Colonel Wesley lived to become the deliverer of the Spanish peninsula and of Europe, as well as the conqueror of him whose ambition aimed at enslaving the world. In October of this same year, the 33rd received orders to form part of an expedition which the Government was about to direct ag-ainst certain of the French settlements in the West Indies. Colonel Wesley embarked in the fleet of which Admiral Christian took the command. But the fleet, though it put to sea, never succeeded in beating down Channel. A violent head-wind soon freshened into a hurricane, and the ships, after having been tossed about for six weeks, returned in a disabled state to Spithead. The troops were immediately put on shore ; and the project of the West Indian expedition being abandoned. Colonel Wesley marched vath his battalion to Poole. This was in January, 1796. In the April following, the 33rd was directed to proceed to India. Wellesley, however (for about this time the spelling of the family name, was changed), happened to labour at the moment under such severe indisposition, that he found himself unable to embark. 1-2 MEMOIR OP THE DUKE OF WELLINGTOK 1797. But he followed in a fast sailing frigate as soon as he became convalescent, and overtaking the battalion at the Cape of Good Hope, landed at its head in Calcutta, on the I7th February, 1797. From that day a great change appears to have taken place both in the moral and intellectual nature of the man. The habits of quiet observation to which he had long been addicted expanded into reasoning. The experience of war and its requirements which he had accumulated in the Low Countries seemed to act upon him with the force of inspiration ; and his correspondence, happily preserved, becomes, in consequence, interesting and instructive. He has not been two months in the country ere his atten- tion is called to the state of the Indian artillery, the whole of which, whether for field service or siege operations, was then dragged by bullocks. He goes fully into the subject, and suggests changes, which, not being mere theories, but prac- tical improvements, are immediately adopted. A little later he is offered the command of a force which Sir John Shore, then at the head of the Indian Government, was preparing to employ in the reduction of Manilla. With rare generosity he points out that there is a meritorious officer, senior to himself, to whom, in the first instance, the offer ought to have been made, and he accepts the command only when assured that the officer in question had declined it. Meanwhile his more private communi- cations, whether to personal friends or to members of the Govern- ment, abound in proofs, not only of the good sense, but of the excellent feeling of the writer. His estimate of the native cha- racter, formed after an experience of less than six months, is as correct as it is severe. It contrasts strongly with the jargon which passed current as philosophy in those days, and which may still be occasionally heard in what are called Indian circles ; but it bears ujaon the face of it the stamp of truth. It is given in a letter to Lord Mornington, which discusses in full the policy of British India and of the surrounding states, and is followed a few days subsequently by another letter, urging his correspondent not to decline the Governor-Generalship, which had just been offered to him. " I am convinced," he observes, " that you will retain your health ; nay, it is possible that its general state may be im- proved, and you will have the fairest opportunity of rendering material services to the public, and of doing yourself credit." But perhaps the most striking of all the papers which at this time he placed upon record are two : one upon the agriculture and com- merce of Bengal ; the other upon the advantages to the British dominions of occupying the Island of Penang, in the Straits of 1798. EEITISII INDIA IN 1798. 13 Malacca. Some of the opinions expressed in these papers may indeed seem cnide to us, by whom the principles of political economy are better understood than they were by our grand- fathers. But he who, in 1797, could argue generally in favom- of breaking through the Company's monopoly of trade with India, may fairly be set down as entertaining ideas far in advance of the age in which he lived. His paper on Penang was written at Penang itself, where the expedition intended for the reduction of Manilla stopped short. That on the agriculture and commerce of Bengal seems to have been composed soon after his return from Calcutta. We find him next on a two months' visit with Lord Hobart, at Fort St. George, observing everything, pondering everything, and making himself master not only of the actual condition, but of the capabilities of the province. The consequence was, that when Lord Mornington reached the seat of governinent, which he did on the 18th of May, 1798, he found no person more able than his brother to give him sound advice upon all snbjects; and that in every emergency, whether questions of military arrangement or of foreign policy were taken up, his brother became his most confidential counsellor. The condition of British India at the period of which we are writing was very different from what it is now. The policy of aggression which prevailed under Lord Clive and Warren Hastings, and which the force of circumstances rather than his own tem- perament induced Lord Cornwallis to continue, had been aban- doned ; and the Company's empire stood fast, a federation of detached provinces, with native states interposing between. From north to south the Bengal territories extended between the mouths of the Hoogley and Nepaul, having their extreme eastern point at Benares, and their western line touched by Arra,can. They com- prised the provinces of Bengal, Bahar, and Orissa, and were sur- rounded by the kingdoms of Burmah and Nepaul, by the dominions of the Vizir of Oude, by those of Holkar and Scindiah, both Mahratta chiefs, by Bundlecund, the territories of Nagpore, and the little semi-independent principality of Cuttack. Separated from them by Cuttack, lay the Circars, which were belted in by Nagpore, by part of the Nizam's territory, and by the Carnatic ; into which last jutted the Jaghires, a portion of land which formed the most ancient of the territorial possessions belonging to Madras. The result of Lord Cornwallis' war with Mysore had indeed been to add considerably to the British possessions in this quarter. By the treaty of 1792, Tippoo Sahib had ceded to the Company a belt of land, which, starting from the right bank of the Palar river, inclined in a southerly direction as far as Doraporam, and then 14 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1798. bending back along the sea shore, united Baramhal with Malabar and Canara. This arrangement, while it shut in the kingdom of Mysore on two sides, cut it off from direct communication with the sea. But it left the semicircle thus created inclosed in the rear, between the state of Travancore on the south, and the dominions of the Peshwa, or nominal head of the Mahratta Confederation, on the north. Besides these provinces, there was Bombay, of gi'eat importance as a harbour, but in regard to territory a mere speck, and girdleS round, except on the coast line, by the terri- tories of Holkar, Scindiah, and the Peshwa. Having achieved what was held to be the object of all former wars — the expulsion of the Frencli from the continent of India, and the establishment of friendly relations with the indigenous princes — the Court of Directors urged upon their representatives abroad that they should as much as possible hold back from taking- part in the disputes of the native states one with another. Exist- ing stipulations were indeed to be observed, but no new treaties were to be formed ; nor were the English troops to be employed, even for the protection of an ally, unless it could be shown that a case had arisen for which the letter of the Treaty of Alliance had provided. Meanwhile everything must be done which could be done safely to diminish the expenses of administration, and to open up new channels to foreign commerce, as well as to develop the internal resources of the country. On this principle Lord Corn- wallis had endeavoured to act from the date of the execution of the treaty of Seringapatam ; and Sir John Shore, his successor in office, through good report and evil, adhered to it. The con- sequence was, that for lack of recruitment, the army became continually weaker. Stores likewise, and ammunition, guns and military equipment, wore out and were not replaced; while in dealing with foreign States, the Government looked more to what was in agreement with the policy of those at home than to the permanent interests of the Indian empire. This had in a marked degree been the case in 1795, when differences arose between the Peshwa and the Nizam, and the English Grovernment rejected the application of the latter for support. Even the assurance that Tippoo was making common cause with the Peshwa, failed to shake this determination, because the treaty of 1792, though it bound the English to co-operate with both the Peshwa and the Nizam against Tippoo, had made no provision for the possible alliance of Tippoo with either against the other. It was a short- sighted policy, which might have brought about very disastrous results. It alienated one member of the tripartite alliance, without drawing tighter the bond of union with the other ; and 1798. CONDITION OF THE NATIVE POWERS. 15 it induced both to look elsewhere for that support which they could not depend upon receiving in the hour of need from the Company. It had long been manifest to the native chiefs of India that they were powerless in the field against European discipline and tactics ; and all who could afford it endeavoured in consequence to entice into their service European officers. Obeying at the same time an impulse which in their cases was not unnatural, they sought for military instructors everywhere, rather than among the English. Tippoo, for example, who had taken infinite pains to recruit and organise his army, caused it to be drilled upon French principles, and officered by Frenchmen. Both the Mah- rattas and the Nizam so far followed his example, that they wel- comed French officers to their courts ; and assigning to them whole districts for their own maintenance and that of the troops which they undertook to discipline, threw into their hands at the same time no small amount of political influence. In 1795, a M. Perron commanded a strong brigade in the service of the Peshwa ; while M. Eaymond had luider his orders not fewer than 14,000 men in the territories of the Nizam. Both chiefs hated the English, though both were too prudent to make any open displaj'" of the feeling. Meanwhile in the north affairs were in a state of considerable difficulty. It had been found necessary in Oude, after acknow- ledging one vizir to set him aside and put up another, for whose protection a contingent was kept on foot varying in strength from 8000 to 13,000 men. For his restless neighbours in Bundlecund and Agra threatened to become aggressive, while rumours were afloat of preparations on the part of Zeman Schah, the ruler of Afghanistan, to penetrate through the Punjab towards Delhi. These various combinations rendered adherence to a policy of isola- tion extremely difficult. Still the policy being recommended from home, and indeed pressed upon the local government in every successive despatch, Sir John Shore believed that he had no alternative except to abide by it ; and British India fell in consequence into the state of an empire which, with all the ex- ternal appearances of strength and power, is yet liable at any moment to be fiercely struck at, if not broken down. It was such a tangled thread of politics tliat Lord Mornington found himself called upon to take up on his arrival in Calcutta. The treasury was empty, a considerable debt had been incurred, the Company's paper was at a heavy discount, and the revenue collected under the new system came in but irregularly. The army was out of gear as well in respect of numbers as of equip- ment, and the pay both of men and officers had ftxllen into arrear. IG MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1798. And yet it was felt and openly spoken of everywhere, that war could not long be averted. The communications between Tippoo and the French authorities in Bourbon and Mauritius were known to be frequent ; it was more than surmised that the Mahrattas had been tampered with in like manner, and the Nizam, overawed by M. Eaymond's corps, could not, if the worst should occur, be depended upon. A vigorous policy, however much opposed to the wishes of the home government, seemed to be indispensable ; and Lord Mornington, a man of no common energy and decision, determined at once to adopt it. As it was from Tippoo that danger to . the English power in India was chiefly to be apprehended, Lord JNIornington resolved to begin with him. He had taken into his pay a body of French troops, inconsiderable indeed in point of numbers, yet sufficient to show what his own disposition was ; while a proclamation issued by the Grovernor of Mauritius announced that overtures had been made by the ruler of Mysore for an alliance offensive and defen- sive with the French nation. Under these circumstances. Lord Mornington drew up a minute in which he stated his reasons why Mysore should be at once invaded. This he submitted to his brother, who on the 28th of June returned it with a masterly criticism, the burden of which was to recommend delay. Colonel Wellesley did not deny that there was cause for war, such as might justify the supreme government to itself, and even in the eyes of civilised nations ; but he expressed strong doubts whether there was evidence enough to convince the surrounding states that the measure was not one of sheer aggression. Now as he considered that England owed her position in India perhaps more to the character of integrity which she had established than to her military strength, he would not, on account of any immediate advantage, run the risk of forfeiting that character, or even of shaking the belief of the native powers in its consistency. Besides the English were not then prepared for war in India, neither was there any probability that Tippoo would be in a condition for some time to attack them. " In my opinion," he concludes, " if it be possible to adopt a line of conduct which would not lead imme- diately to war, provided it can be done with honour, which I think indispensable in this Grovernment, it ought to be adopted." * * * " Let the proclamation be sent to Tippoo, with the demand that he should explain it and the landing of the troops. Don't give liim reason to suppose that we imagine he has concluded an alli- ance with the object stated in the proclamation ; and finding he has derived so little benefit from the alliance, there is every pro- l)ability that he will deny the whole, and be glad of an opportunity 1798. WELLESLEY AT FORT ST. GEORGE. 17 of getting out of the scrape. In the meanAvhile we shall believe as much as we please, and shall be prepared against all events." Following up the train of thought indicated in the last sentence, Colonel Wellesley, a day or two afterwards, sent in another paper, in which he suggested that an army should be quietly assembled in Barahmal, the advantages of which, regarded as a point of concentration, he pointed out. He showed that as this district had been but recently annexed, no measures adopted for the ostensible purpose of settling its military organisa- tion could give offence, — that it was studded with forts, all of which stood in need of repair; that it lay upon the frontier of Mysore, commanding the principal passes to and from that country, and that the occupation of these passes was as much a precau- tionary measure against invasion as it was an important step in advance, in case aggressive war should hereafter be forced upon them. Colonel Wellesley's judicious advice was followed in both instances. No declaration of war made its appearance. The French proclamation was sent to Tippoo with a friendly request that he would account for it ; while steps were taken to accumu- late stores and to concentrate troops in the province of Barahmal. The affairs of Madras had of late been somewhat loosely managed. Lord Hobart having resigned, the Grovernment fell as a temporary arrangement into the hands of Greneral Harris, who, on the 7th of October in this year, was in his turn superseded by Lord Clive. The general resumed as a matter of course his command of the army. There had been little activity all this while in any department of the State, and still less of concord among the several heads of dejiartments. On the contrary, these took for the most part divergent views of every sulyect brought under theii* notice, unless indeed the proposal happened to ema- nate from Calcutta, when they all joined to resist it. With a view to remedy these evils Lord Mornington made up his mind to send Colonel Wellesley to Madras; and the better to conceal the objects which he had mainly in view, to send him at the head of his regi- ment. The voyage from Calcutta to the coast was like all Colonel Wellesley's voyages, attended with much inconvenience and some danger. The ship struck on a reef before it cleared the mouths of the Hoogley, and was not got off again till part of the cargo and most of the water had been thrown overboard. But in spite of this and of a leak which could not be stopped, the vessel reached its destination, and on the 15th of September Colonel Wellesley addressed from Fort St. George his first letter to the Governor- General. It is, like the whole of his correspondence at this period, a very remarkable document. Though Ijut two days ashore he c 18 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1798. has made himself master of the opinions, character and habits of every individual connected with the Government, and having fully and fairly digested them, he proceeds to show what the necessities of the times really are, and how best they may be provided for. A rupture with Tippoo he treats as inevitable, and advises that steps be taken at once to render it as little dangerous as possible to British power. He recommends a quiet increase to the army, by converting the Bengal Marines 2000 strong, into a line regi- ment of two battalions ; by transferring the Calcutta militia, likewise 2000 strong, to the marine service, and by raising a third marine regiment of 2000 men. This would place at the disposal of Government 6000 troops, willing, because accustomed to travel by sea, which might be sent in transports to the Carnatic in less than half the time that would be required to march a similar column by land. Meanwhile, a beginning should be made in the important work of collecting grain, draft cattle, and other means of transport. The part to be taken by the Bombay presidency in the coming struggle is in like manner indicated, as well as the condition in which the fortresses, both within and without the Company's territory ought to be placed. But the point which appears to him most pressing is, that the Nizam and the Mahrat- tas should be equally secured, so a,s not only to prevent an alliance between them and the court of Mysore, but to engage their services on the side of the English. Still, while pointing out all this, while urging that the Mahrattas should be conciliated, and the Nizam delivered from the pressure of his French corps, Colonel Wellesley argues against going to war at all, unless the measure be forced upon him. He is, therefore, urgent that no demands shall be made on Tippoo, except such as are reason- able in themselves. In particular he wishes that Tippoo should not be required to dismiss the Frenchmen already in his service, though he is ready to insist that no addition should be made to their numbers either then or at any future period. " If," he observes, " his reception of our ambassador be attended by all the good consequences which may be expected from it ; if he become impressed with a just sense of his own interests ; if he see that the Company's government wish for nothing but that every man should retain what belongs to him, and that all India is kept in peace by their interference; and if he should in consequence become desirous of strengthening the union between him and them ; he will of his own accord send away the Frenchmen who will no longer be of use to him, as he will no longer have any in- tention of attacking the Company when an opportunity offers." ]798. WELLESLEYS ADVICE FOLLOWED. 19 It is one of the most remarkable traits in the character of this great soldier, that from the beginning to the end of his career, he was the steady advocate of peace ; that he counselled every measure which would not be inconsistent with the national honour, rather than that recourse should be had to arms. At the same time he never lost sight of the fact that recourse to arms might in the end become inevitable; and he was consistently urgent that the Grovernment, especially in India, should always be in a condition to undertake war. In the present instance his advice was followed throughout. The message sent to Tippoo, though firm, was conciliatory. The Mahrattas were engaged not to enter into too close relations with him, and the Nizam, already weary of the influence of Eaymond and his corps, was informed that the English would assist him in getting rid of them. How this was done the reader of Indian History need not be told. A body of English troops proceeded to Hyderabad, found the French Sepoys in a state of mutiny, easily persuaded the men to lay down their arms, and sent the officers first to Fort St, George and ultimately to Europe. The Nizam upon this accepted a subsi- diary corps from the Madras Presidency, and the old relations of amity between the two Grovernments were renewed. These important services, and many more, Colonel Wellesley performed to the Supreme Grovernment, while his own position towards the Grovernment of Madras was at once anomalous and unsatisfactory. He held no official appointment civil or military, but resided in Fort St. Greorge, ostensibly as the Commandant of the 33rd Kegiment of the Line, in reality as his brother's agent, and the private adviser of Lord Clive. His correspondence descriljes the latter as " a mild moderate man, remarkably reserved, having a bad delivery, and apparently a heavy understanding." He speaks both of him and of Greneral Harris as overlaid by those about them, and especially denounces the Military Board, as an institution prolific only of mischief. Finally, entertaining but an indifferent opinion of the members of Council, he recommends that in the event of war. Lord Mornington should come in person to Fort St. George, and himself administer the Government. In this point as well as in others his recommendation was acted upon, and military operations, when they did occur, received in consequence, from Lord Morning-ton's energy, a strong impulse in the right direction. So passed the time between September and December, 1798. It was a season of some anxiety and great exertion to the Government, and of anything but repose and personal enjoyment to Colonel Wellesley. Indeed his position became daily more irksunie, k>i lie 20 JIEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1799. was obliged to restrain not his own temper only, but the tempers of all, including the Governor-Greneral, with whom he had any communication. Moderate and wise as his policy was, however, it did not avail to effect the whole of his purpose. In November Lord Mornington proposed to Colonel Wellesley that he should undertake a special embassage to Seringapatam, and the proposal was at once agreed to. But Tippoo refused to receive an English Ambassador at all, and scarcely took the trouble to disguise the terms on which he stood with the P'rench EepubHc. He had received from Greneral Buonaparte a letter written at Cairo, in Egypt. It informed him of the intention of that wonderful man to pass into India, and to unite all the native powers against their common enemy the English ; and Tippoo, nowise doubtful of the power of the writer to fulfil his promises, laid aside further disguise and proceeded to intrigue actively with the Mahrattas. A know- ledge of these facts put an end on Lord Wellesley's part to further hesitation. A war policy was determined upon, and preparations were hurried on for entering on a campaign immediately after the monsoons, and for rendering it decisive. And now such an opening was presented to Colonel Wellesley as he could have most desired, but for the unfortunate cause which created it. Colonel Aston, an officer of high character and much, beloved, commanded at Arnee. He became involved in personal disputes with two members of his own corps — Major Picton, the second in command, and Major Allen, the paymaster ; and after a harmless meeting with the former, he was challenged and shot dead by the latter. Colonel Wellesley was at once sent to replace him, and to assume the command of a division which lay encamped at Wallajah, — Nuggah, in the district of Barahmal. From this date, January, 1799, Colonel Wellesley devoted the whole of his time, and all his energies to prepare for the coming campaign. He found every necessary arrangement incomplete. There was very little grain, there were no bullocks ; the Brinjaries or travelling grain-merchants were out of humour ; the fortresses which ought to have been stored with provisions were empty. Night and day he laboured to supply these defects, and he suc- ceeded at least in part. In a letter addressed to Lord Mornington, before quitting Fort St. Greorge, he had stated, that 40,000 bullocks would be required to set an army of 20,000 men in motion. In little more than a month after reaching the camp he got together 12,000 ; and not only victualled the forts, which were to keep open the communications of the advancing force, but was in a condition to furnish with supplies, other divisions of the army. For this, General Harris commended him in private letters to 1799. WELLESLEY AND G ENSEAL HAERIS. 21 Lord Mornington, yet strangely enough failed to notice the fact in general orders. Colonel Wellesley felt the neglect as he had a right to do ; and once, and only once referred to it with some bitterness. " The General expressed his approbation of what I had done," he says *, " 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 that others would be displeased and jealous. ... As there is nothing to be got in the army except 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 approbation, 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 continue to do everything to serve Greneral Harris, and to support his name and authorit3\" On more than one memorable occasion Colonel Wellesley found an opportunity of redeeming the pledge thus given. Lord Mornington had by this time taken up his residence at Fort St. George. He was urged by many persons to join the camp, and seemed well disposed to do so. Colonel Wellesley intreated him to lay that purpose aside. "I am entirely ignorant," he saysf, " of the objects which you may have in view, which may certainly counterbalance the objections I have to the measure ; but it appears to me, that your presence in camp instead of giving con- fidence to the General, would in fact deprive him of the command of the army. . . . 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 to him to keep in order the officers who will be in his army. Your presence will diminish his powers, at the same time that, as it is impossible you can know anything of military matters, your powers will not answer the purpose." In the same spirit is his remonstrance against the practice which prevailed in Madras of encroaching on the legitimate patronage of the com- mander-in-chief, and thereby undermining his influence. Writing again to Lord Mornington, he begs him to put a stop to this practice. " I told Lord Clive all this, 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 im- possible to make him too respectable or to place him too high, if he is to be the head of the army in the field. This want of * Letter to Lord Mornington, 27th of Februaiy, 1799. t Letter to Lord Mornington, 29tli of Jannaiy, 1799. c 3 22 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1799. respectability, which, is to be attributed in a great measure to the Greneral 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." The preparations for war were at length completed, as far at least as a total want of management (except where the genius of the Wellesleys was immediately present to create it) would allow. One corps of 20,000 men had been concentrated at Velore on the great road to Seringapatam. It began its march on the 11th of Februar}^, and on the 18th was joined at Killamangalen by 16,000 of the Nizam's troops. Over these Colonel Wellesley was placed, carrying his own, 33rd Eegiment, with him ; and the two corps moved in parallel columns, that of Wellesley holding the left. Meanwhile three other divisions entered the field ; one from Bombay, which was to penetrate by Canonore towards Sedesseer. Another from Southern Carnatic, and the third from Barahmal. The common point of rendezvous was Seringapatam, against which a mortal blow was to be delivered. The storm fell upon Tippoo sooner than he anticipated, yet it did not take him unprepared. He had assembled 50,000 excellent troops in a good central position, and placed his capital in a state of defence. If he had better known how to wield his strength he might have made better use of his opportunities. Instead, how- ever, of carrying the whole of his army first against one advancing column, and then against another, he divided his force, and sent only 11,000 men to attack the Bombay troops, an operation which utterly failed. Intimidated by this check, he abstained for a while from troubling General Harris on his march, and then sud- denly made up his mind to risk a general action. It was fought at a place called Mallavelly, the brunt of the affair being sustained by Wellesley's column, and it ended in the total defeat of the JNIysoreans, whom the British cavalry, under Greneral Floyd, pur- sued with great slaughter along the road to the capital. No further opposition being offered to the progress of the columns, they moved each by its own line, as rapidly as the enor- mous convoys which they were obliged to transjDort would allow. The main body reached the vicinity of Seringapatam on the morn- ing of the 5th of April, and one by one the rest coming in, there were assembled at length under the walls of that city 35,000 combatants, about 120,000 followers, and 100 pieces of cannon. Tippoo meanwhile had shut himself up in the place with a picked garrison of 22,000 men, and mounted 240 guns upon his works. To lay siege to a city so defended, and covered besides by an en- 1790. NIGHT ATTACK FAILS. 23 trenched camp, Avas no li<^lit undertaking. Yet Harris was AAdthout an alternative. If the town were not taken in the course of six weeks, its capture might be deferred indefinitely. For inundations set in in June, which, till December, cut off all approach to the walls within cannon-shot. Having selected his front of attack, Greneral Harris resolved to begin, by driving Tippoo out of his advanced line ; which extended for about two miles, from a woody hollow beside the Cavary to a ruined village thrown back like the hollow itself, to the river's edge. This service was to be performed in the night of the 5th by two columns, one imder Colonel Wellesley and the other under Colonel Shaw. We gather from a written communication made at the time by Colonel Wellesley to Greneral Harris, that the ground had been very imperfectly reconnoitred befoj-ehand, and that he, at least, was not made fully aware of the post which he was expected to occupy, assuming his attack to be successful. Partly perhaps on this account, partly because of the darkness of the night, his attack did not succeed. That directed by Colonel Shaw, carried all before it, but Wellesley's column was repulsed, and Wellesley himself repaired at once to the Greneral's tent, to make a report of his failure, and to account for it. The failure does not appear to have been very decisive, or very much to be wondered at; though half-informed historians have endeavoured to make as much of it as possible. In the estimation of Wellesley himself, it was merely one of those accidents to which all operations under- taken in the dark are liable. " On the night of the 5th," he says*, " 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 officer killed, and some men of the 33rd wounded ; 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 morning they reoccupied 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 a determination never to suffer an attack to be made by night upon an enemy who is prepared, and strongly posted, and whose posts have not been reconnoitred by day-light." The capture of the outer line, which took place as here de- scribed, was followed by the immediate opening of the trenches ; and on the 12th the first battery began to fire. On the 18th, * Letter to Lord Moniington, ISth April, 1799. c 4 24 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 17S9. Tippoo professed his anxiety to negociate, and on the 22nd General Harris sent in a draft of a treaty. But the sole object of the Mysorean was to gain time ; so the batteries resumed their fire on the 30th. On the 2nd of May, the explosion of a maga- zine of powder and rockets, caused great damage to the defenders, and two days subsequently the assault was delivered. The besieged defended themselves with the greatest obstinacy. They fought along the parapets, in the gate-ways, and from street to street. At last a band of resolute men threw themselves into the Sultan's palace, and refused to surrender till informed that the Sultan was dead. He had been wounded in the side in the interval between the first and second lines of works, and was endeavouring to make his way amid a throng which choked up one of the gate- ways, when a ball struck his horse, which reared and threw him. He was instantly raised by some of his own people, and placed upon a palanquin. But the pressure of the crowd cast him down again, and he fell this time under the feet of the living, and among the wreck of the dead. Two English soldiers saw him there, and attracted by the splendour of his baldric, they endeavoured to dispossess him of it, when he raised himself on his left elbow, and striking at the nearest wounded him on the knee. It was a rash act and led to his immediate destruction ; for the soldier, wild with pain and rage, placed the muzzle of his firelock against the Sultan's temple and shot him dead. The booty found in Seringapatam proved to be immense. No inconsiderable portion of it fell into the hands of marauders, for the troops heated by battle and the recollection of past sufferings, threw off all the restraints of discipline. But the treasure saved amounted to a very large sum, and there was discovered among the archives of the palace, ample proof of Tippoo's long cherished and inveterate hostility to the English Gfovernment. This was a circumstance of great importance, because it justified the policy of aggression which Lord Mornington had adopted. It entirely recon- ciled the authorities in London also, to a war, which had it not been undertaken as it was, would have certainly been forced upon them a little later, when they might have been, perhaps, less prepared. The town was taken, and it became necessary to appoint a com- mandant ; as well for the purpose of saving what remained of the property of the inhabitants, as to restore discipline among the victorious troops. Colonel Wellesley was the officer selected by General Harris for this delicate and important duty; which he discharged with his accustomed firmness. He entered the place on the morning of the 6th, and before noon on the 7th perfect order prevailed. All the fires, and many had broken out, were 1799. WELLESLEY COMMANDANT OF SERINGAPATAM. 25 extinguished. " I came in," he saySj " on the morning of the 6th, and, by the greatest exertion, in the course of tiie day, I restored order among the troops." On the 7th, in a letter to Lord Mornington, he writes : " Phmder is stopped, the fires are all extinguished, and the inhabitants are all returning to their houses 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." Out of this grew, by degrees, confidence among the natives. The bazaars and shops were opened one by one, and trade resumed its usual course, as if no siege or final assault, had occurred to interrupt it. The appointment of Colonel Wellesley to command in Seringa- patam gave some offence in the army. G-eneral Baird, in par- ticular, considered that so important a trust ought to have been committed to himself ; and General Baird's biographer has not hesitated to attribute the slight which his hero is assumed to have suffered to undue influence on the part of the Governor- Greneral. But this is a great mistake. By whatever motive swayed, whether from conviction that he was selecting the right man, or out of a not unnatural desire to gratify Lord Mornington, it is certain that General Harris made his arrangements without previous communi- cation with any one ; indeed, Lord Mornington seems to have heard of his brother's appointment for the first time from Colonel Wellesley himself. That he was pleased with the arrangement, and believed it to be the best that could have been made, his letter of the 17th, to the commander-in-chief, shows; but it shows, also, that the act was entirely gratuitous on Harris's part. *' You know," writes Lord Mornington, " whether you would be doing me a favour if you employed him in any way that could be detrimental to the public service. But my opinion, or rather the knowledge and experience which I have had of his observation, his judgment, and his character is such, that if you had not estab- lished him in Seringapatam, I should have done it by my own authority." The post conferred on Colonel Wellesley proved to be one rather of honour and great labour than of profit. He exercised the powers conferred upon him so as to command the respect and gratitude of the natives ; for he buried Tippoo with royal honom'S, and would not permit the slightest violence to be offered either to the palace or to the mosques. He even saved from destruction certain paintings, in which was described the defeat of Colonel Bailey's corps by Hyder Ali, and he obtained, as he deserved, the commendation of the Governor- General for so doing. With his own people he was not quite so fortunate. Either because the 26 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF AVELLINGTON. 1799. feeling of envy was still alive among them, or that the sj^read of indolence had become supreme, nobody to whom he issued orders seemed disposed to obey them willingly. He was desirous of re- pairing, a? speedily as possible, the breaches in the city walls, and clearing away the ruins. The engineer on whom the duty de- volved fenced with it, and was constrained to do the work at last only by the well-grounded apprehension of mischief to himself. So also Wellesley's requisitions for stores, provisions, and other means of defence, were either avoided or neglected. And as to his own position, it continued to be, as it had long been, unsatisfactory in the extreme. *' Since I went into the field," he wrote to Lord Mornington on the 14th of June, " I have commanded an army with a large staff attached to me, which has not been unat- tended by a very great expense, especially latterl}^ About six weeks ago I was sent on here with a garrison, consisting of about half the army, and a large staff, and I have not received one shil- ling more than I did in Fort St. Greorge. 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 in the Carnatic. But if G-overnment do not consider my situation here, I shall be ruined for ever." The fall of Tippoo was followed by the speedy submission of all the refractory chiefs of Mysore. Tippoo's sons were kindly treated, and sent, under escort, to Fort St. Greorge ; and then arose the ques- tion, what was to be done with the conquered territory ? After a good deal of discussion it was resolved to hand over to the Nizam and the Mahrattas the provinces which they claimed ; and to restore the sovereignty of the remainder, subject of course to subsidiary treaties, to the Hindoo dynasty, which Hyder Ali had set aside. But till these various arrangements could be completed, the occupation both of the capital and of other outlying works was to be continued. Hence when Greneral Harris withdrew, late in August, with the bulk of the army. Colonel Wellesley entered ujDon the independent command of the entire principality, with full powers to administer its affairs, as well civil as military. How this was done his voluminous correspondence shows. He ap- pears to have anticipated and provided against every difficulty before it occurred. Questions of finance and of the administration of jus- tice received from him as prompt and satisfactory solutions as if they had related to the movements of troops. He was, in fact, already the same great administrator, though on a field compara- tively narrow, which a few years subsequently he proved himself to be, when on his decision and judgment depended the fate, not of the Spanish Peninsula alone, but of Europe. 1799. TII3 CIVIL ADMINISTRATIOX OF MYSORE. 27 CHAP. III. WELLESLET's civil ADJrijSriSIll.VXIO:^^. — CAilPAIGN AGAIKST DnOONDIArC-WAITGn, — IS SEN^T TO CEYLOlSr. — EXPEDITION TO EGYPT. — ■ EESUMES HIS COMMAND IN MYSORE. — MAHRATTA AVAR. — BATTLE OF ASSAYS. From the month of August, 1799, up to the early spring of 1800, Colonel Wellesley found ample occupation in settling the political and military affairs of the conquered districts. He had a code of regulations to draw up for his subordinates ; courts of justice and revenue to estiiblish, both for Europeans and natives ; refractory polygars to subdue, and hordes of wandering robbers to hunt down. He succeeded in everything to which he put his hand. He moved in person from one point to another wherever his presence seemed most to be needed, and by his conciliatory manner, not less than by his firmness, bore down all opposition. He took an active part, also, in asserting the claims of the army to prize money, and rejoiced in the prospect of receiving about 7000/. to his own share, because he would thus be enabled to repay certain sums which Lord Mornington had, from time to time, advanced for the purchase of his several commissions. Work sharper in itself, however, and more congenial to his tastes, was already in preparation for him. In the dungeons of Seringapatam, there lay at the period of its capture, a notable robber, by name Doondiah-Waugh, whom Tippoo had defeated, taken, and cast into prison. The struggle which cost Tippoo his empire and life set Doondiah free; and he immediately resumed his old occupation. He collected many fugitives from the Sultan's army, and gathering strength where- ever he went, became once more the scourge of the open country. It was not very easy to determine whether he was countenanced by the Mahrattas or the reverse. Sometimes he might be heard of, seeking shelter among them after he had laid districts beyond their frontier under contribution ; and once at least he fought a fierce battle with the Peshwah's troops, and was overthrown. But he soon recovered from this defeat ; made himself master of various fortresses, and having collected as many as 40,000 28 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLIXGTOX. 1799. vagabonds, unfurled his standard, and seemed preparing to strike for a richer prize. It was necessary that this man should he crushed, because adventurers such as he become formidable in the east when neglected ; and Colonel Wellesley, having solicited and obtained authority to act against him, gave orders for the concen- tration of every disposable man on the Toombudra. While the troops came together and such equipments were in progress as might enable them to pass rivers and move with celerit}^, a native introduced himself to Colonel Wellesley, and after stating that he had read the proclamation which set a price upon Doondiah's head, offered to seek him out, and stab him in his tent. The pro- posal was rejected with horror. " To offer a reward," says Wel- lesley, in the letter which describes this interview, " in a public proclamation for a man's head, and to make a private bargain to kill him, are two very different things. An officer in command of troops may do the one, but he is bound to abstain from the other." The native withdrew, surprised and disgusted ; and Doondiah, left for a season to himself, grew daily stronger and more insolent. He assumed the title of " King of the World," and having defeated a body of Mahratta horse, spoke of himself, and began to be regarded by others as the deliverer of India from the yoke of the stranger. But Wellesley's preparations were going on all this while, and on the 26th of June he quitted the banks of the Toombudra, at the head of two regiments of English, two of Native cavalry, and a small, but well-selected corps of light infantry. Next day he took the fortress of Bednore by assault. Hoondgul, Dummul, and other strong places fell before him in like manner, without however, a moment's interruption to the steady pursuit of the " King of the World." It was, on both sides, a campaign of extraordinary marches. Doondiah, unimpeded by baggage of any kind, moved Avith extreme rapidity. Wellesley followed on three separate lines at a rate such as had never before been heard of in modern warfare ; yet, though often coming on the enemy's bivouacs, ere the fires had burned out, he could not overtake nor bring them to action. At last, on the 29th of July, intelligence reached him that the main body of Doondiah's army was at Manawly, a small fort on the Malpurba. He left his infantry behind, and pushing on with his cavalry all night, arrived early next morning in presence of about 5000 men, vnth. a crowd of women and children and some baggage. Not a moment was lost in deliberation. The cavalry formed up, charged the marauders, and drove them into the river ; capturing all the tents, an elephant, with several camels, and the whole of the women and children. Their guns, for they 1799. DOONDIAH KILLED. 29 had guns with them, Doondiah's people had managed to send across the river before the battle began. But of these also, Colonel Wellesley made himself master next day. The gims he gave to some bands of Mahrattas who had joined him on his march, and the fort he found abandoned. By this time, however, men and horses were equally exhausted: so no pursuit was undertaken ; but the victors, after a few hours given to repose, returned to their camping ground. There the little army rested for a couple of days, after which it took the direction of the Malpurba, and crossing that stream on the 3rd of Sept- ember, found itself before long within the Nizam's frontier. Fresh arrangements were made here. Wellesley with his cavalry, followed hard upon the heels of Doondiah, whose people fell from him or sank under fatigue and privation, while Stevenson moved more leisurely, carrying with him the infantry, the guns, and such stores as were absolutely indispensable. The campaign had now degene- rated into a mere race, and Wellesley and his troopers won it. They overtook Doondiah with the 5000 horsemen who still adhered to his fortunes, strongly posted near the rock and village of Conaghull ; and though mustering less than 1200 sabres, instantly attacked him. It was a charge in a single line — without support or reserve of any kind — Wellesley himself leading; and it succeeded. The enemy were broken, disjDersed, and pursued for several miles, with great slaughter across the country. Among the slain was Doondiah himself, whose body the soldiers brought into camp on a gun-carriage. In one of the baggage- waggons his son was afterwards found, whom also, his captors brought to Colonel Wellesley ; and so touched was Wellesley by the forlorn condition of the boy, that he not only received him kindly at the moment, but permanently took care of him. We are unable to say what became of the youth after he grew to manhood. All that we know for certain is, that his protector charged himself with the duty of providing for him a suitable education, and that before quitting India he made such arrangements as insured to his protege a fair start in the race of life. The operations against Doondiah, besides being very brilliant, afforded no doubtful prognostic of greater things to come ; and were the more honourable to Colonel Wellesley that he had refused to be drawn away from them by the allurements of a far more lucra- tive, if not more important service. It had been proposed to him by the Governor-G-eneral, while he was yet in the midst of his preparations, that he should hand over the Mysore chstrict to a successor and take command of a body of troops in an expe- dition against Batavia. Had wealth, or even glory, been with 30 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OP WELLINGTON 1800. him, as they are with common men, the great motives of action, he would have acceded to this proposal at once ; for much more, certainly of the former, and perhaps of the latter also, was to be ex- pected from a campaign in a European settlement against a regidar force than against hordes of free-booters in the fastnesses of the Carnatic. But to Wellesley there was no principle so cogent as duty, and believing that this required him never to give up a trust, except at the desire of those by whom it had been committed to him, he referred his brother's proposition to Lord Clive, and remained as Lord Clive suggested at his post. The results were as creditable to himself as they were permanently beneficial to the public service. The defeat and death of Doondiah, though they removed one great cause of uneasiness, did not restore tranquillity to the districts immediately round Mysore. The Mahrattas had become restless again ; quarrelling among themselves ; yet all, as was understood, equally looking to France ; while, in certain districts lately ceded to the English, chiefs and rajahs exhibited no inclination to submit without a struggle to their new masters. Moreover, there were provinces, reconquered from Doondiah, to the sovereignty of which rival powers laid claim ; and among Doondiah's papers evidence was found of complicity on the part of Scindiah in all his proceedings. These several causes operated to prevent the breaking up of Colonel Wellesley's army, and kept him, till the month of December, in camp and at its head. But other and more important demands were now made upon his talents. The Grovernor-Greneral had long desired to strike a blow at the Isle of France. There was a warm royalist feeling among the inhabitants, so much so indeed, as to have kept them for a while in a state of severance from the French republic ; and counting upon their support. Lord Mornington believed that the reduction of the colony might be successfully attempted. Communicating his views only to his brother and to such of the officials as could be fully trusted, he began to assemble quietly a considerable force in Ceylon ; and now that Colonel Wellesley was set free from his operations in the Carnatic, he received orders to proceed with as little delay as possible to Trincomalee, and there to assume the command. < The official letter conveying these instructions bears date. Fort William, November 14th, 1800. On the 2nd of December it reached Colonel Wellesley, who had by that time returned to Seringapatam. It is somewhat obscurely worded, for while he is distinctly named to the chief command of the force to be collected at Trincomalee, other bodies of troops, as well from Madras as from Bombay, intended for the same service, are described as 1800. WELLESLEY IN CEYLON. 31 placed j^rovisionally at his disposal. This is a point not undeserv- ing of notice, modifying, as to a certain extent it unquestionaLly does, the judgment which has been usually formed respecting the amount of wrong put upon Colonel Wellesley by the sub- sequent appointment of General Baird to supersede him. There can be no doubt, however, looking to the tone of his correspondence, that Colonel Wellesley set out from Trincomalee with the con- viction upon his mind that he was to retain permanently, the command of the whole army on whatever operation it might be employed. To an officer so young, such a prospect could not fail of being gratifying in the extreme. It opened out for him the way to independence as well as to honour ; indeed, it was such a card as, under all the circumstances, only the brother of a Governor-General could hope to play. Yet it neither dazzled his imagination nor to the most remote extent interfered with the due discharge of his every day and necessary duties. Before handing over to Colonel Stevenson the military administration of Mysore, he entered with him into the fullest explanations. He showed him all that he had himself done, all that he was preparing to do, — with the reasons for each act and the consequences which he anticipated from it ; and put him in possession of plans, by ad- hering to which success might be expected to follow upon every operation abroad, and tranquillity to be maintained at home. This done, he departed from Seringapatam, and after a brief sojourn in Fort St. George, passed forward to Ceylon. Colonel Wellesley reached Trincomalee somewhere about Christ- mas 1800, and received from the authorities there all the assistance which they could render. The secret of his destination seems indeed, to have been well kept, for not even the Governor was aware of the purpose for which the troops had come together; but no impediments were for that reason thrown in the way of his suggestions, whatever these might be. All the resources of the island were at his disposal, and with his usual forethought, he laid in, as far as these would allow, everything which might conduce to the comfort of the troops on board ship, and to their efficiency on landing. At the same time he set himself to collect as much information as possible respecting the resources of the Isle of France, and the probable difficulties which he should encounter in reducing it.* But just as his preparations were in a state of forwardness, and both he and Lord Mornington were counting on the triumi3hs that * The sovirces of information accessible to liim were very scanty. The great niidio- rity with his brother was a Mr. Stokes, the master of a trading vessel, who in the course of business had visited the French ishinds ; but Colonel Wellesley seems to have been very little guided by his opinions. 32 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OP WELLINGTON. 1801. awaited them, sudden obstacles to the further progress of the enter- prise presented themselves. Admiral Eenier, the Naval Com- mander-in-Chief on the station, demurred to so serious an undertaking, except by direct instructions from home. He was willing enough to act against Batavia, should the Indian Grovern- menfc turn its thoughts in that direction, because the reduction of Batavia had been suggested some time previously by the king. But he could not take specific orders from the Governor-Greneral, and must therefore decline to risk His Majesty's fleet in any enter- prise which had not received the sanction of His Majesty's Grovernment. This was a mortifying check both on public and private grounds to Lord Mornington and Colonel Wellesley. It arrested an enterprise, success in which was regarded by the former as of great importance to the safety of British India, and it deranged for the latter all the plans which his relative had matured for putting him in the way of earning wealth and reputation. But it could not be set aside. The idea of attacking the Isle of France in the first instance was therefore abandoned, and on the 21st of January, 1801, Lord Mornington wrote officially to inform his brother that the destination of the armament was changed. Nor was this all. The expedition was now to proceed against Batavia, under the orders of Major Greneral Baird, and on the fall of Batavia, and not till then, Colonel Wellesley was to assume tbe command of a separate corps, and to make an attempt on the Isle of France. Once more, however, the intentions of the GTovernor- Greneral were defea,ted. Before his despatch containing these directions could reach Ceylon, Colonel Wellesley received intima- tion, through the Madras Grovernment, that orders had arrived from home for the employment of the expeditionary force on a totally different service. It had been resolved to drive the French out of Egypt, and a corps from India, of which the Trincomalee division should form a part, was to co-operate from Mocha across the desert with Sir Ealph Abercrombie's army, then on its way to the mouths of the Nile. Mortifying as all this was, and we gather from Colonel Wellesley's letters that it mortified him exceedingly, he did not permit his private feelings to slacken his zeal in the public service. Trincomalee was at the best a very inconvenient point of concentration for large masses of troops. No supplies were to be got there except wood and water, so that the men were driven ere long to consume the stores which had been laid in with a view to their subsistence on board of ship. It was, besides, far removed from the proposed scene of action, and Wellesley, keenly alive to the value of time, made up his mind at once to shift his ground. Having consulted with Captain, afterwards Sir W. Pulteney Malcolm, and obtained 1801, WELLESLEY DISAPPOINTED. 33 his sanction, he embarked as many men as the tonnage at his dis- posal would allow, and, under convoy of that officer, sailed for Bombay. At first this proceeding, as bold as it was unusual, ap- pears to have been condemned by Lord Mornington ; but a letter of explanation removed the erroneous impression, and on the 18th of March, Colonel Wellesley was officially informed that the supreme government " entirely approved the alacrity and prompti- tude which he had manifested in moving the troops towards the place of their rendezvous." This sentence of approval was satisfactory enough as far as it went, but it did not compensate to Wellesley for the loss of the command, which, rightly or wrongly, he still believed had been ensured to him from the outset. Neither was it any consolation to find that he was free to choose between proceeding as second under Baird to Egypt, or returning, if he preferred it, to his old po- sition in Mysore. He had taken up an opinion which was certainly founded rather upon the private letters of his brother than upon public despatches. But with him a conclusion once arrived at was fixed for ever. He believed that he had suffered a great wrong, and expressed himself warmly on the subject. Still, as was likewise his custom in all such cases, he would not permit private feeling to interfere with public duty. Having collected a large amount of statistical and military information, he handed it over without reserve to Greneral Baird, and gave him at the same time the notes which he had drawn up for his own guidance, and that of the fleet, and of the army. But no consideration, even of possible loss of credit, would induce him to accompany the expedition as second in command. Happily for him all risk of being charged with lack of zeal, was obviated by a sharp attack of fever. He was ill when Baird arrived at Bombay ; he did not recover so as to be fit to travel till after the fleet had put to sea, and, as if fortune had de- termined to favour him in his failings not less than in his excel- lencies, the abortive issue of the expedition left him nothing to regret in having declined to take part in it. The following letters will better show than any words of ours what his sentiments were on this occasion, and in what light his conduct was regarded by those who took in him the liveliest interest. "Bombay, 16tli April, 1801. " My dear Morxington, " The letters which I have written to you lately will have sho-wu you that nothing could be more agreeable to me than the jDermission which I received yesterday to return to the Mysore country. But the first paragraph of the letter contains a reason for my original removal from thence, and my appointment to the chief command of the troops assembled D 34 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1801. at Ceylon, wliicli indeed I read once before in the despatch to Sir Ealph Abercrombie, and I wish to trouble you Avith a few lines upon it. " To avail youi'self of my knowledge and experience in the equijMxient of the expedition to be employed on the shore of the Red Sea, is said to have been your indiacement to call me away from Mysore ; but if this were the case, it was never so stated to me, and if it had been, I should have requested yoti to employ in the drudgery that person who it was intended should reap all the honour of the service ; and, at least, I should have refrained from inciu'ring expense, and from taking officers from their situations to put them under the command of a man they all dislike. " The fact was that, in the month of October, you were carried away by some fortimate circumstances that had occui-red, and by your partiality for me, to apj^oint me to the chief command of the troops to be employed at the Maiu'itius, in the Eed Sea, or eventually in India, and the govern- ments were ordered to furnish me with any additional troops that I might require. On the 21st December you first announced your intention to appoint Sir James Craig or General Baird to the command. I don't deny that I conceive that they had reason to complain when I was appointed to this command, and I believe they did complain ; but in order to do justice to them, why should a gi'eater injury and injustice than they complained of be done to me, and why should reasons for my appointment be publicly given to the whole world, which at least tend to show that you conceived I was fit for the equipment of the expedition, but not to conduct it after it was equipped ? " You have repeatedly stated to me an opinion directly the contrary. But the reason of the change stands now publicly unexplained, excepting in the manner above mentioned (I don't know what is the reason of it, excejitiug it be that you thought you had done an injustice to General Baird, and were desirous to repair it) ; and as jowr success in this country and your character must give to your opinions the ftiUest weight, I stand publicly convicted of incapacity to conduct more of a service than its equipment. I need not represent how injurious that opinion must be to my futiue prospects ; particularly so as the piiblic m general, and those who are to judge of my conduct, know well that yoiu- partiality to me would have induced you to refi-ain from deUvering it, if the incapacity had not been manifest upon experiment. " If the change in the command were made only because I had not suf- ficient rank, and because others had the rank required, and complained of the preference shown to me at that time, it Avould have been fair towards me to state it (although, by the by, I don't conceive those to be any good reasons for superseding a man when he has been appointed to a com- mand). The next best thing would have been to give no reason at all for my appointment or my supersession. In either of these cases I should have lamented only that the impropriety of the appointment had not been found oiit before it was made, the expense which I had imnecessarily inciu-rcd, and that I had been induced to remove officers from a situation which they did like to one they do not. Biit I have a right to complain when I am superseded, and the reason stated for the supersession amounts to a charge of incapacity. 180]. MR. HENRY WELLESLEY'S LETTER. 35 " I don't want to trouble you with my private feelings or concerns when I know that you have enough to think of, and whatever I might have felt, I should never have said or written another word upon the subject, if I had not received yesterday your letter of the 28th March. " The supersession has astonished, and is the conversation of the whole army and of all India, and numbers of my friends have urged and written to me to request that I would have it explained. Let Henry ask any indifterent man what is his opinion of it.* After all this, if the same cir- cumstances could have happened under any other govei-nment, although I am fully aware of the right of Government to change officers as they may think proper, I should certainly have asked whether any misconduct or incapacity of mine had occasioned my supersession. " The admiral arrived yesterday. I shall take an opportunity of talking to him respecting your views upon the Mauritius and Batavia. " I had two fits of fever upon the retiu-n of the spring-tides, and I. therefore propose to quit this place as soon as I can. " Believe me, &c., " Arthur Wellesley." " Fort William, 22nd April, 1801. " My dear Arthur, " I have received yoiu' letters of the 21st, 22nd, 25th, and 31st of March. " I am really very much distressed by your letter of the 21st, because you seem to feel your situation so sensibly, that nothing I can say will afford you any consolation, and I fear that the present state of yotu- mind may be of material injury to your health. You will easily conceive that I have not shown your letter to me of the 21st to Mornington ; such a measure would only tend to irritate and distress him, without answering any good purpose. I can't say that I think it was necessary for you to write a public letter in justification of yoiu- conduct in quitting Ceylon ; and if you had waited a short time you would have received a letter fi-om Mornington, stating that he thought you had acted right in that instance. " I lament, as much as you can possibly do, yom- having been taken away from your command in Mysore, particularly as it has led to your being placed second in command to General Baird. Had I been here in time, I think I could have prevented his appointment, or at least I could have stated reasons on public grounds why you should not be appointed to act together. It might have been proper to appoint a major-general to take the command of the expedition to the Eed Sea (of this, however, under all the circumstances, I am not quite satisfied) ; but admitting this to have been necessary, you certainly ought to have been directed to resume the command in Mysore. Your situation must be irksome to the gi-eatest degree, but I trust it will not be of long diu-ation. I fear that the public letter, recalling you to your command in Mysore, cannot have reached Bombay before your departure. Whenever you receive that * The Hon. II. WcllcsIey. D 2 36 MEMOIR OP THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1801. letter, it will justify you in leaving Baird ; but I know that (however un^ileasant your situation may be) you will not leave it if there be any chance of active service in Egypt. My own opinion is that Sir Ralph Abercromby will either have completely succeeded or entirely failed before you can reach Mocha, in either of which cases you will only have to return, imless you choose to proceed to the Mauritius as second in command, with a chance of being left there as governor. A letter has this day been written to Sir Ralph, desiring him to despatch Baird and his detachment as soon as possible after he shall have no fiu'ther occasion for their ser- vices, and this with a view of the detachment proceeding immediately to the attack of the French Islands. " I cannot think, my dear Arthur, that you have suiFered in the slightest degree in your reputation in consequence of your being super- seded in this command. You are still at the top of the tree as to character ; aiad I declare to yoii (and I can have no wish to flatter you) that I never heard any man so highly sj)oken of, nor do I know any person so gene- rally looked up to. Your campaign against Doondiah is surely sufficient to establish your character as a soldier bej'^ond the reach of malice or detrac- tion of any kind. I hope your fever has quite left you; if it have not, you will not, I conclude, have been imprudent enough to embark. " I am sorry to tell you that we have met with a great loss in the Tini- velly Country against the fort of Panjalamcoiu'chy ; upwards of 300 men killed and wounded, and the fort not taken. Agnew has been sent to take command. No officers killed or wounded that you know except James Grant, of the Body-Guard, wounded. I wrote you a very long letter on board ship, and inclosed several others with it ; but by the advice of Colonel Kirkpatrick I sent it by a ship instead of overland, and I fear you will not get it before you arrive at Mocha. God bless you my dear Arthur. Pray write as often as you can, and " Believe me ever most affectionately yours, " Henry Wellesley." On the 7th of May, 1801, Colonel Wellesley, having shaken off all but the dregs of his late illness, arrived at Seringapatam. He resumed at once the administration of affairs at Mysore, and though still giving utterance to an occasional burst of complaint, he bent to his labours with the zeal and alacrity which were natural to him. It is fair to add that his concern was occasioned quite as much by the thought of other men's disappointment as of his own. Several able officers had resigned lucrative situations elsewhere, that they might place themselves under his orders and serve on his staff ; and upon all these his removal from the chief command of the expeditionary force brought not only mortification but loss. This greatly annoyed him, and he often referred to it, while casting about for means to rectify the evil at least in part. But he was never in the habit of so brooding over the past and the irremediable 1802. WELLESLEY IN MYSOEE. 37 as to forget the most minute detail of what might be required for the present and the future. From May, 1801, to November, 1802, we find him occupied in bringing the province into order, and establishing confidence among the people and their rulers. He causes jungle to be cleared; roads to be made; Seringapatam itself to be put in a state of defence ; some outlying forts to be repaired ; others to be pulled down. He attends to the health and comfort of the troops as well in camp as in quarters, and he hunts out abuses which had crept into all the pul)lic departments, bringing the guilty to punishment, and vindicating thereby the English character in the eyes of the natives. Two events befell during this interval, which must not be passed by wholly without notice. In the first place Colonel Wellesley was promoted in 1801 to the rank of Major-Greneral, and ceased in consequence to be effective in the army of India. It fortunately happened, however, that just as tidings of his promotion arrived, a vacancy occurred in the staff of Madras, and he was at once ap- pointed to it by General Stuart, the commander-in-chief of that Presidency. In the next place, information was received of Mr. Pitt's resignation, and the conclusion of peace with France by the Treaty of Amiens. Nobody in India, and least of all Greneral Wellesley, contemplated these occurrences with satisfaction. They involved a change at the Board of Control, which could not under any circumstances prove advantageous to Lord Mornington, and they necessitated the restoration to France of certain conquered districts, besides opening all India to her intrigues. Nor did much time elapse before Lord Mornington began to feel that Mr. Dun- das was no longer at his back. The Court of Directors, already dissatisfied with his general policy, now censured it openly, and gave orders for the immediate dissolution of the college which, with great trouble and at some expense, he had established at Calcutta for the education in the laws and languages of India of young men appointed in England to the civil service of the country. Lord Mornington's friends were greatly annoyed fearing that he might be led to throw up the government at a moment when any change must necessarily be for the worse. But partly through his own sense of duty, partly from the advice and remonstrances of his brother, he refrained from taking this step, and contented himself with so arranging matters that the college might either expire after a given interval, or be resus- citated should the Covu-t of Directors find reason to modify their views. Meanwhile General Wellesley did his best to ren- der as little noxious as possible the return of a French garrison to Mahe. He caused two roads to be cut ; one directly through D 3 33 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1802. a portion of territory in dispute between the French and the English, the other just outside the limits of that territory, in order that the loss of it, should it ultimately be given up, might not seriously interrupt the communications between Mysore and Malabar. As the event proved, however, and indeed as Wellesley seems all along to have anticipated, there was little ground for the alarm in which these proceedings originated. The peace of Amiens proved to be but a hollow truce, which came to an end long before France found time to mature her plans, if she ever seriously entertained any, against the interests of England and the influence of her government in India. By labours such as these, and the exercise of untiring vigilance, tranquillity was preserved in the Company's territories south of the Toombudra. Eefractory chieftains were put down, robber bands dispersed, and the ryots or peasantry enabled to cultivate their lands, and prosecute their callings in peace. Elsewhere, howevei-, the seeds of trouble were largely sown, and in due time they came to maturity. This is not the occasion on which to speak at length of the rise and subsequent declension of the Mahratta nation. Our present purpose will be sufficiently served if we remind the reader that in the reign of Arungzebe numerous tribes, inhabiting the wild districts on both sides of the Nerbudda, placed themselves under the con- trol of a chief called Sivajee ; that from resisting the attempts of the Mahommedan government to impose tribute upon them, they assumed the aggressive, and that in due time they not only esta- blished their own independence, but became the terror of all the provinces round about. As long as Sivajee lived, the strength of these bands continued unimpaired, and their government single. But no successor equal to the task of sustaining things was found. Hence the Mahrattas soon broke up into separate principalities, without, however, seeking in any manner to deny or set aside their common nationality. They came indeed to stand in due time to- wards each other pretty much in the same relation as that which at the present day connects the various Grerman kingdoms and principalities together. Often quarrelling among themselves they were yet prone to unite against a common enemy, and they all looked up, or professed to look up, to the Poonah Eajah, the lineal descendant of Sivajee as their common head. Like the old kings of France the descendants of Sivajee became in course of time imbecile, and a sort of major domo or minister, called the Peshwa, exercised supreme power over them. Acting for his master, the Peshwa, henceforth made treaties of war and peace by which the whole nation was supposed to be bound, and 1802. THE MAHRATTAS. 39 by which it was bound till his influence came like that of the Eajah, to be rather nominal than real. At the period to which our present narrative reaches, the Mahr- attas were circumstanced thus. One chief, by name Dowlat Rao Scindiah, had extended his authority from Agra to the Suttlej, and could bring into the field, besides swarms of irregulars, 30,000 in- fantry, 8000 cavalry, and 290 pieces of cannon. These, equipped and disciplined upon a European model, were under the command of a M. Perron, a deserter from the French marines ; and of a large body of French and other European officers, who looked up to him as their patron. Scindiah was without doubt the most powerful member of the confederation, and aspired to nothing less than the conquest sooner or later of the whole of Hindustan. Next to him came Holkar, the lord of a tract of territory which interposed between Scindiah's dominions and the Bombay Presi- dency, and touched for a consideral)le distance the Poonah princi- pality, or, as it is described upou old maps of India, the dominions of the Peshwa. The military force of Holkar consisted princi- pally of cavalry, of which he could bring into the field not fewer than 80,000. Finally there was the Rajah of Berar, or Nagpore, whose territories reached from the western shore of the Grulf of Bengal to the Nizam frontier. Here they connected themselves with the Peshwa's dominions, which overlapped those of the Nizam upon the west, as the Nagpore territory overlapped them on the east. Each state had its own army : that of Nagpore consist- ing of 20,000 disciplined cavalry, and 10,000 infantry. The forces of the Peshwa were neither so numerous nor so well appointed. Feeble as the Peshwa had in reality become, it was still a point of importance among the Mahrattas to obtain a political ascendancy over him ; and this, by a judicious combination of fraud and force, Scindiah had succeeded in achieving. But he brought upon himself, by so doing, the hostility of Holkar, who in 1 802 passed the Nerbudda, and in a battle fought near Poonah on tlie 25th of October, defeated the combined armies of Scindiah and the Peshwa. A new Peshwa was upon this set up by the conqueror, while Badje Rao, the deposed Peshwa, fled to Bassein, and there put himself formally under the protection of the British Govern- ment. For some time back Lord Mornington had viewed the growing power of the Mahrattas with distrust. He was not therefore sorry to embrace such a favourable opportunity for checking it, and Badje Rao being sent round by sea to Bombay, preparations were made to lead him back in triumph to his capital. The price of this interference was the famous treaty of Bassein, by which the l> 4 40 MEMOIR OP THE DUKE OP TV ELLINGTON. 1803. Peshwa bound himself to accept permanently the support of 6000 English troops, to assign to the Company a territory sufficient to provide for the maintenance of that corps, and to make no more wars, nor suffer wars to be made by any other Mahratta power, except with the consent of the English Government. No sooner had the terms of this treaty transpired, than all the rest of the Mahratta chiefs took the alarm. Scindiah made over- tures of reconciliation to Holkar. He entered into close alliance with the Rajah of Berar, and concentrated M. Perron's corps, which then occupied Agra, Delhi, and a large portion of the Douab, and held the unfortunate Schah Allum, the descendant of the Mogul, in a state of virtual captivity. This done, the troops of Scindiah and of the Rajah of Berar formed a junction, and in March, 1803, took up a position at Bourrampoor, not far from the Nizam's frontier. These several moves were neither overlooked nor neglected by the English Grovernment. So early as the beginning of the year. General Wellesley had recommended that an army of observation should be assembled on the Toombudra, with a view to protect the Nizam in case Holkar should invade him, and to be ready when the proper moment came, to bring back the Peshwa to his capital. In this suggestion, as prudent as it was bold, the Governor-General acquiesced, and to Wellesley himself was com- mitted the charge of carrying his own plans into execution. It is curious to observe in his correspondence at this time the same attention to small things as to great, which gives that peculiar value as lessons in the art of war to his Peninsula and Waterloo despatches. He overlooks nothing. All that the troops require for their subsistence, their transport, their efficiency in the field, their comfort in camp and quarters, is provided. He gives minute instructions about grain, bullocks, carts, guns, ammunition, sheep, horses, forage, stores. He specifies and desires to be collected everything that was likely to be required in hospitals, whether regimental or general ; and he does not forget doolies for the con- veyance of the sick and Avounded. In writing to the Government he advises that alliances should, if possible, be formed with the numerous petty and half- independent Mahratta principalities south of the Kistna. Not that he counts much on these people as active co-operators in the war, for though they might muster among them as many as 20,000 irregular horse, they could never be relied upon in the day of battle. But at least they would render the communica- tions of his army secure, and prove troublesome to the enemy by cutting off his supplies and harassing his convoys. Thus pro- tected in his rear, Wellesley felt that he should be in a condition to press the Mahrattas vigorously, and to force them to a general 1803. WELLESLEY ON THE TOOMBUDEA. 41 action, a result which they would as carefully seek to avoid as it was the policy of the English to hurry on. Keeping this object in view, Wellesley cut down with a merciless hand all superfluous baggage. Officers were restricted to what was absolutely necessary for health and comparative comfort. Carts were forbidden to be used in the line of march. Even as a siege train he would carry nothing with him heavier than 12- pouuder guns, which he believed to be of weight enough against any fortified place before which the army was likely to sit down. The troops were then put in motion by regiments and brigades, and on the 8th of February they concentrated in a camp already prepared at a place called Hurry Nurr, on the left bank of the Toornbudra. Nor had he been neglectful of the means of passing that river at a moment's notice. Pontoons were constructed after a fashion elaborately described by himself. The very pace at which men were to march, and bullocks to be driven on the line of march, was specified : — " Major-general Wellesley requests that Captain Mackay will give orders to the drivers not to allow the draught bidlocks to run. The commanding officer of artillery also is requested to give orders to the officers and non-commissioned officers of the artillery, detached with brigades or attached to the park, not to suffer the drivers to allow the bullocks to get into a trot. Whether in consequence of this order Major-general Wellesley shall be able to prevent the cattle from being driven in this manner or not, he positively forbids commanding officers of corps from following the guns beyond the rate at which the troops can march with ease to themselves. The commanding officer of each corps is to lead his battalion at a steady even pace, and the commanding officer of each company his company at the same pace. When the badness of the road or an obstacle may occasion a halt, and a consequent break in the line, the corps or company which may have halted is not to run to regain its distance." * The concentration of this army on the Toombudra formed but part of an extensive plan, of which a few words will suffice to give a sufficiently distinct accoimt. In the north, Gfeneral Lake held himself in readiness with 14,000 men, to march when the proper moment came upon Delhi, there to dispose of M. Perron's corps. Wellesley's force amounting, all detachments included, to 23,000, was to act principally against Scindiah, and the Eajah of Berar ; 7000 men from Bombay were to operate by Surat and Baroda towards the north-west, while a fourth division was to penetrate from Calcutta into Cuttack, and to seize the temple of Juggernaut, * General order : Camp at Allecoopali, 9th FeLruary, 1803. 42 MEMOIR OP THE DUKE OF WELLmGTOK 1803. the great object of veneration to the Hindoos. Meanwhile three reserve corps were to guard the territories of the English and of their allies. One was to cover Poonah, and provide for the safety of the Peshwa; another to take post on the Kistna, and secure the Deccan, while a third, establishing itself at Meryapore, and Benares, was to place the valley of the Granges in a state of de- fence. Military critics have justly remarked that such a dissemi- nation of troops could not have been attempted except in India. It might overawe and restrain undisciplined Hindoos, but the general who should have ventured upon it in the presence of an enemy conversant with the first principles of the art of war must have been destroyed in detail. On the 11th of March General Wellesley passed the Toom- budra, and pushed on to form a junction with the Peshwa's army, and with the Company's force in the pay of the Nizam. His route lay through the Mahratta territory, and he published stringent orders in respect to the discipline which should be maintained. They are in spirit, well nigh in letter, identical with those which many years subsequently he issued to his army when it threatened France from the left bank of the Bidasoa. The same tone of con- ciliation, justice, and wisdom breathes through both. No violence is to be offered to the persons or property of the inhabitants. Every article required for the use of corps and of individuals is to be paid for, and the people thereby made to feel that they gain rather than lose by the presence of civilised strangers among them. With here and there an exception, the general's orders were rigidly adhered to ; and the consequence was that the peasantry repaid the good treatment which they received, by abstaining from all attacks upon stragglers, and by keeping the camp well supplied with provisions, and even with articles of luxury. Wellesley's march from the Toombudra to the Beamah was a continued triumph. Chief after chief flocked to him with his fol- lowers. At a place called Ankboor, near the confluence of the Beamah and the Kera, he formed his junction with Colonel Stevenson, and then turned his attention to open a communication with the coast, and to conduct the Peshwa, as had been agreed upon, to his capital. But though Holkar himself had withdrawn from Poonah, it was ascertained that one of his lieutenants, by name Amrut Eao, still held the place, and that he had made pre- parations to burn the town as soon as the British army should approach. It was a matter of great importance to prevent this outrage. As soon therefore as Wellesley arrived within forty miles of Poonah, he put himself at the head of 400 horse, and setting out at nightfall on the 19th, reached the city in the afternoon of 1803. POONAII SAVED. 43 the 20th. Seldom in the annals of warfare has such a march been performed, and it is the more to be wondered at, that the troops which accomplished it, had, during the early part of the 19th, com- passed twenty miles under a burning tropical sun. But it served its purpose. Amrut Rao had no time to carry his threats into execution : he fled from Poonah out of one gate, as Wellesley approached another, and suffered some loss in the pursuit. So far all had gone well. Poonah was saved, and in due time the Peshwa returned to it in triumph. It now remained to deal with Scindiah, Raggogee-Boonslah, and Holkar, tlie two former of whom still professed to be on friendly terms with the head of the Mahratta confederation. Scindiah and the Rajah of Berar were accordingly informed that the Grovernor-General could not allow them to maintain a threatening attitude towards the Nizam, the Company's faithful ally. They were requested to break up their camp, and to return, the former across the Nerbudda into Hin- dostan, the latter to his usual military station, in the interior of his own country. At first the Mahratta chiefs endeavoured to evade this demand. By and by they declined to accede to it, unless the English would consent to fall back simultaneously upon Seringapatam ; and at the same time, though professing their readiness to accept the treaty of Bassein as an accomplished fact, they made no secret of their dissatisfaction with some of its con- ditions. It was impossible to mistake the real object of all this. The Mahrattas desired to gain time, partly because they believed that the death of the Nizam, which might occur at any moment, would throw the affairs of Mysore into confusion, partly because it was as well known among them as in the English camp, that any day might bring intelligence to India, of the renewal of war be- tween France and England. But a policy which suited their views was exactly at variance with the views of the British Government, and Wellesley finding further remonstrance useless, sent them this final message. " I have offered you peace on terms of equality, honourable to all parties ; you have chosen war, and are responsible for all consequences." Anticipating from the outset the result in which these negocia- tions would issue, Wellesley had taken care to provide for the safety of every portion of the English territory, as well as for that of the friendly powers which lay open to invasion. In a long despatch to the Governor of Bombay, dated V/alkee, 2nd of August, he points out exactly where troops are to be posted, and what fortresses garrisoned, so as to cover Gujerat. At the same time Major Kirkpatrick is instructed how to dispose of his reserves, so as to guard against a sudden inroad into Mysore. Meanwhile 44 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1803. Wellesley himself is indefatigable in repairing the waste in baggage animals, grain, and other necessaries, which a long halt in an exhausted country necessarily occasions. As to his own plan of campaign, that had been matured and communicated to Greneral Lake, as early as the 29th of July. " My plan of operations," he says, " in case of hostilities, is to attack Ahmednugger with my own corps, by the possession of which I shall secure the communication with Poonah and Bombay; and to keep the Nizam's army upon the defensive upon his highness's frontier. When I shall have finished that operation and have crossed the Grodavery, I shall then, if possible, bring the enemy to action. As the passes through the Adjuntee Hills are difficidt, particularly for the large quantities of artillery the enemy have, it is probable that Colonel Stevenson may be able to succeed in preventing them from deploying their force on this side of the hills till I shall have joined him. If he should not, he is strong- enough to defend himself, and the enemy will find it very difficult to pass through the hills again after I shall have crossed the Grodavery." It will be seen from this extract, that after the occupation of Poonah, Colonel Stevenson had again separated from Greneral Wellesley. He was now in position with 7920 men of his own corps, and about 1 6,000 of the Nizam's troops at Arungal)ad, north of the Godavery. Wellesley himself, with 8903 regular troops, supported by 3000 Mahratta, and 2000 Mysore horse, lay at San- gwer upon the Seenah, while half a battalion of the 84th Regiment, with 1215 Native Infantry, remained under Colonel Murray for the defence of Poonah. Besides these three corps a fourth was in movement from Bombay to Baroach, under Colonel Woodington, which, with all the detachments scattered through Surat and Gujerat, reported direct to General Wellesley. Meanwhile Scindiah and Raggogee Boonslah had called in three brigades of infantry, which being added to the force already assembled at Julgong, in rear of the Adjuntee Hills, placed at their disposal about 38,000 horse, 14,000 well disciplined foot, 190 guns, and 500 rockets. Holkar also having made up his quarrel with Scindiah, was reported to be on the march to reinforce his corps. The time had therefore come for merging negociation in action, and Wellesley was not the man to let the critical moment pass. On the 6th of August he broke up from Sangwer, and encamped under heavy rain a few miles short of Ahmednugger. Next day the weather cleared, and early in the morning of the 8th the Governor of Ahmednugger was summoned to surrender. The summons was refused as Wellesley expected, and the troops 1803. AHMEDNUGGER TAKEN. 45 advancing the same day carried the town or Pettah by assault. On the 9th the citadel was reconnoitered, and at dawn on the 10th the English batteries opened upon it with such effect, that the Grovernor next day himself proposed to capitulate. It was of more importance to the issues of the campaign, that a place held like Ahmednugger in great respect by the natives should fall quickly, than that a few hundred men composing its garrison should become prisoners of war. Greneral Wellesley therefore not only permitted the Governor to retain his private baggage, but allowed him to go with the troops under his orders wherever he pleased. Hence on the evening of the 11th, 1400 well appointed Mahratta Infantry marched out and were passed in safety through the British lines. So utterly unfounded is the story told, we believe by continental writers alone, that Wellesley for the sake of example, caused the garrison of Ahmednugger to be put to the sword. Wellesley was quite capable of outraging his own feelings, when- ever the occasion for a terrible example might arise. He hanged plunderers without mercy, because he knew that by doing so he would put a stop to plunder ; but he was too brave as well as too just to look upon fortitude in an enemy as a crime. He never put to death one garrison in order to deter others from doing their duty. W^ellesley's first care after the capture of Ahmednugger was to repair the works, and to place both citadel and town in a respect- able state of defence. He thus converted it into an important jplace cVarmes, which, while it overawed such of the princes of southern India as might be disposed to make common cause with the Mahrattas, at once facilitated the operations of the English arms in the north, and gave him the command of all that portion of Scindiah's dominions which lay to the south of the Grodaver}^ This done, he crossed the Godavery itself, and passing through Arungabad, moved up the course of the river, with a view to throw himself ujDon the enemy's communications. For the Mahrattas had contrived to deceive Stevenson by a pretended march to the eastward, and then suddenly returning upon their steps threaded the Adjuntee Ghaut unopposed. But as they carried with them into the Nizam's territory cavalry alone, their movements were as rapid as they were devastating, and Wellesley, though he succeeded in stopping their march upon Hyderabad, found himself unable to bring them to action. He managed however, by heading them at every turn, to deprive them in the end of all means of subsistence, and to compel them, after repeated doublings backwards and for- wards, to recross the Godavery and retire behind the hills. While Wellesley was thus hunting the enemy in one direction. 46 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1803. Colonel Stevenson acted vigorously against him in another, re- ducing a fortress called Jalna, within the Mahratta frontier, and otherwise alarming him for the safety of his own territory. The consequence was that the chiefs resolved to hazard a general action ; and took ujo a strong position in rear of the Adjuntee Hills. It was the very object which, above all others, Wellesley desired to bring about, and he did not fail to seize it. On the 25th of Sep- tember, Colonel Stevenson joined him at a place called Budnapore. That evening all the necessary dispositions were made, and next day the whole army moved forward in two columns — one that it might turn the chain of mountains to the east, the other that it might effect the same purpose towards the west. The information which Wellesley had received, led him to con- clude, that the position occupied by the enemy rested its left on the village of Bokerdun, and extended from that point on a line parallel with the river Kaitna, a long way to the westward. He calculated, therefore, that before coming in sight he should have a march of four or five leagues to accomplish, and that time would be afforded for Stevenson to reach his ground long ere a shot could be fired. He had not covered more than two leagues, however, ere he found himself in the enemy's presence ; marching with his flank presented to them, and therefore exposed, as well as his baggage, to insult. For they had shifted their ground so as to occupy the Delta formed b}'- the confluence of the Kaitna and the Juah, and to place their right instead of their left, on Bokerdun, and their left on the village of Assaye. It was a moment to him of grave anxiety and much hazard : 50,000 men, covered by 128 pieces of cannon, and secured on either flank by villages and rivers, offered battle to something less than 8000, of whom only 1500 were Europeans ; with seventeen guns, the animals dragging which were exhausted with fatigue. Wellesley had to choose one of two courses. If he attacked the enemy, he must do so against fearful odds, and in neglect of the strong reinforcement which next day would certainly join him. If he withdrew, and waited for Stevenson to come up, he exposed himself to he harassed by the enemy's superior cavalry during his retreat, and afforded them the opportunity which they were pretty sure to embrace, of decamping in the night. Indeed, he had received intelligence while on the march, that they were already beginning to move, though this movement proved to be nothing more than the change of front of which we have just spoken. He preferred to run the risks of a general action, to the chances of their escape. Halting just long enough to enable him to place his baggage in safety, and to take a rapid yet careful survey of the 1803. BATTLE OF ASSAYE. 47 enemy's whole position, he gave the signal to push forward, and by a ford which had been left unguarded at Papulgaon, the little column passed the Kaitna and deployed for the attack. The English artillery, inferior both in numbers and in calibre, was soon silenced. After a few discharges it ceased to fire, and the infantry advancing in two lines with the regular cavalry in support, charged the first line of the Mahrattas and broke through it. Many guns fell into their hands, and of the gunners some were bayonetted, while others threw themselves on the ground' pretending to be dead. A second line, bristling like the first with cannon, now presented itself, upon which they rushed ; but while engaged with those in front, many Mahrattas, who had thrown themselves upon the ground, sprang up, and turning their guns, poured grape and chain-shot into the English rear. At the same time the pickets or advanced guard, which acted in the first line, and had been directed to avoid Assaye because it was full of infantry, swayed too much to the right, and falling upon the village at once exposed themselves to a heavy fire of musketry, and brought the 74th Eegi- ment from the second line prematurely into action. This was the critical moment in the battle. Men and officers fell fast ; the fire of the Mahrattas grew more murderous. Their horse, heretofore quiescent, began to move, and the English rear was threatened. Directing his Mysorean and Mahratta cavalry to keep the enemy's horse in check, Wellesley threw the 78th Eegiment upon Assaye; while he launched the 19th Dragoons in support of the hard pressed 74th. That gallant regiment sweeping by the treacherous gunners who fired from what had been the first Mahratta line, cut them down, and then broke into the second line and destroyed it. There was no more order in the ranks of the confederates. The great mass broke and fled in confusion, leaving upwards of 100 guns in the hands of the victors, and the whole field of battle covered with their dead and wounded. The battle of Assaye was, as Wellesley himself described it, the hardest fought affair that ever took place in India. It began about three in the afternoon and lasted till six. The loss on both sides was heavy, that of the English amounting in killed and wounded, to 170 officers, 2206 men, while of the enemy there fell in the action and in the pursuit, upwards of 6000. General Wellesley had two horses killed under him, for he was in the thick of the fight throughout, and led in person the charge of cavalry which decided the fate of the day. But the victory was as com- plete in itself as the moral impression made by it, both on friends and foes, was prodigious. " I have no language strong enoiigh," Wellesley wrote a few days subsequently, to Major Munro, " to 48 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1803. express the admirable conduct of the troops. They moved in the best order, and with the greatest steadiness, under the most mur- derous fire." Some foreign writers, seldom commonly just to the Duke of Wellington, venture indeed to assert, that Scindiah's infantry betrayed their chief, and that Wellesley was made .ac- quainted with their intention to do so before the battle began. But the assertion is as destitute of truth as of generosity. " Scin- diah's infantry," says Wellesley, in a letter to Lieutenant Colonel Collins, " behaved well. They were driven from their guns only by the bayonet, and some of the corps retreated in good order and formed again." The cavalry, of which the organization was more imperfect, acted with less hardihood ; yet no portion of it either deserted its colours, or joined the assailants. What these horsemen wanted was discipline and mind to direct it. Had these been present, the English must have sustained a reverse. Had the ford over the Kaitna at Papulgaon been properly guarded, it seems difficult to conceive how they could have escaped destruc- tion. But Wellesley perfectly understood the nature of the enemy with whom he had to deal. He detected in a moment the blot in their dispositions, and he struck it. His battle might therefore be one of the boldest which modern warfare has witnessed ; but it was the work of inspiration, and the result justified its boldness. Yet there are those, especially among French historians, who speak of Wellesley as of a leader incapable of conducting any other than a defensive war. 1803. CAPTUEE OF ASSEERGHUR. 49 CHAP. IV. MAHRATTA AVAE COXTIKXJED. — BATTLE OF ^VUGAM. — PEACE AVITH THE MAHHATTAS. WELLESLEY KNTGUTED. — HE PREPARES TO QUIT INDIA. — MARKS OF RESPECT OFFERED TO HIM BY AIL CLASSES. The English army, which had been on foot since early dawn, and had compassed in all about twenty-four miles of country, slept that night upon the field of battle. Next day Colonel Stevenson arrived, and taking up the pursuit as well as circiunstances would allow, rode down and destroyed a few broken fragments of the enemy. He then counter-marched upon Burhampoor and Asseer- gur, to which he laid siege. Meanwhile, Wellesley, after securing a place of shelter for his wounded, which the Nizam's officers were by no means prompt to afford, moved first to the southward, and afterwards back again to the north. He thus headed and forced the Mabrattas through the mountain passes ; for after rallying their fugitives, they had strengthened themselves with all the dis- posable men whom they could collect, with a view to withdraw the besiegers from the towns by laying waste the Nizam's country. The besiegers, however, covered by Wellesley's division, did their work. The towns fell, and the Nizam's dominions were again cleared of plunderers. In carrying on these operations, both Wellesley's and Steven- son's corps underwent great privations. " Stevenson," writes Wellesley, "took Asseerghur on the 21st of October. I had the intelligence on the 24th, and that the Eajali of Berar had come to the south with an army. I ascended the Ghaut on the 25th, and have marched 120 miles since, in eight days, by which I have saved all our convoys and the Nizam's dominions. I have been near the Kajah of Berar two days, in the course of which he has marched five times ; and I suspect that he is now off to his own country, finding that he can do nothing in this. If this be the case, I shall now begin an offensive operation there. But these exertions, I fear, cannot last ; and yet if they are re- laxed, such is the total absence of all Grovernment, and means of defence in this country, that it must fall. It makes me sick to E 50 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1803 have anything to do with them, and it is impossible to describe their state." The above letter bears date the 1st of November, 1803, and was written from camp at Chusikair. We find Wellesley next at Chilchooly, where, on the 10th, a vakeel or messenger from Dow- lat Eao Scindia, is admitted to a conference with him. For Scindia had begun to make advances towards peace, and Wel- lesley was too prudent by far to reject them. He had accomplished the great purpose for which war was undertaken in Southern India. He had driven the Mahrattas out of the Deccan. He was acquainted with the large measure of success which had attended Greneral Lake's operations in Hindostan, and hoped, by agree- ing to a suspension of arms with Scindia, to sow distrust between that chief and the Eajah of Berar. It was a political move of which the Grovernor-Greneral approved, and Wellesley having already explained the terms on which peace might in his opinion be advantageously concluded, he received, by return of post, full powers to conduct the negociation as he saw best. One of the objects which Wellesley had in view, when he per- mitted Scindia to treat by himself was attained at once. The Eajah of Berar no sooner learned that an armistice had been granted to his brother chief, than he applied to be included in it. But this, Greneral Wellesley declined. He professed himself ready to receive the Eajah's minister, and to consider fairly such pro- posals, as he might be authorised to make. But he not only refused to suspend military operations, but marched upon Gawul- ghur for the purpose of laying siege to it. Now Grawulghur was one of those fortresses of which the people of the country thought with something like superstitious reverence. Strong by position, for it stood among the mountains, between the sources of the Poonah and the Taptee, it covered one of the main approaches to Nagpoor. Nor was there any sacrifice which the Eajah was not j)repared to make rather than see it fall. For this reason and because he knew that the capture of Gawulghur would produce a great moral effect in Berar, Wellesley directed Colonel Stevenson to attack it, while he with his own division took post to cover the oj)eratiou. The main difficulty to Stevenson's success lay in the rugged nature of the approaches ; but these he surmounted. Four day's of open batteries produced a practicable breach, and the assault was delivered. This was on the 15th of December. But before the place fell, Eaggogee Bunsla, in the hope of averting the calamity, took the field ; and Scindia, forgetful of the engage- ments into which he had entered, marched with him. Their 1S03. BATTLE OF AKG.OI. 51 united force amounted to about 40,000 men, of whom a large pro- portion was cavalry ; and they took up a strong position in front of the village of Argam. Thither Wellesley hastened to encounter them. He marched not fewer than twenty-six miles, the Indian Sim beating fiercely upon him all the while, and arrived in sight of the enemy, when as yet only a few hours of daylight remained. These he determined not to lose. He attacked at once, carrying 14,000 regular, and 4000 irregular horse and foot into action. The Mahrattas were entirely routed. Once indeed, and only once, the fate of the day seemed to hang in the balance ; for three battalions of Sepoys which had behaved admirably at Assaye, yielded to a sudden panic. But by great good fortune Wellesley was beside them when they gave way ; and by his influence checked their flight, and brought them back to the charge. There was no further wavering. The enemy fled in confusion, leaving thirty- eight guns with some elephants and camels, and all their baggage in the hands of the victor, who continued the pursuit with his cavalry under a clear moonlight till a late hour of the night. The battle of Argam and the fall of Grawalghur put an end to the war. Scindia and Eaggogee Bunsla saw that further resist- ance would be fruitless, and after a good deal of equivocation and reserve, accepted the terms which the conqueror imposed upon them. Territory measuring 2400 square miles of surface-extent was ceded to the company, which yielded a revenue of 2,000,000^. sterling, and included Delhi, Gwalior, Grohud, Baroach, Ahmed- nugger, and other important towns. The two chiefs j)ledged themselves never to receive into their service Europeans of any nation, except with the consent of the English Government, and Scindia agreed to a defensive alliance with the English, mainly with a view to restrain Holkar, on whose temper no dependence could be placed. With all these arrangements Lord Morning- ton expressed himself satisfied ; and accepting without reserve his brother's acts as his own, he became responsible for them to the Home Government, and suffered for so doing. There was still a good deal to be done before General Wellesley could break up his army, and return to the ordinary administration of his province. The conclusion of peace with a native power was, in those days, scarcely less dangerous than a declaration of war. Always in arrear with their payments. Rajahs and Nabobs kept their troops together by the prospect of plunder ; and when hos- tilities ceased, and there was no longer an enemy's country to lay waste, the troops usually quitted their standards, and became free- booters on their own account. A liand of these freebooters under a daring leader soon showed itself in theDeccau, and having defeated £ 2 52 MEMOIE OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1804. one of the Nizam's detachments, gathered strength from day to day. Though suffering at the time from boils, a complaint not un- common in India, Wellesley instantly mounted his horse, and after a march of sixty miles in thirty hours, came up with the brigands and dispersed them. He took from them all their guns, material, and baggage, and left them powerless to resist the armed villagers by whom their straggling parties were hunted down and cut to pieces. His next move was to Poonah, where the affairs of the Peshwa stood in much need of settlement, and where his good intentions were met, as usually happened under similar circumstances, with chicanery and gross ingratitude. Neither irritated by this nor diverted from his purposes, he pursued his own course, reasoning and persuading, and where other arguments failed, not hesitating to employ threats ; and he succeeded at last, as he invariably did, in brincjing order out of confusion. Nor was he inattentive all this while to the progi'ess of events in the north. As in 1803, he had, in his correspondence with the Governor-General, settled all the plans which led to the surrender of Perron, the defeat of his successor Louis Bourguier in front of Delhi, the capture of Delhi itself, and the great victory of Laswarrie, so now he pointed out that preparations should be made to anticipate the hostile intentions of Holkar, and thereby render them harmless. For Wellesley was too well acquainted with the native character to be ignorant that Holkar, with the improvidence of his race, waited only till his rival should be overthrown in order that he might himself strike a blow for supreme power. Tha.t Wellesley's arguments were sound, and that they carried conviction to the mind of the Governor -General is shown by the terms of a letter which Lord Mornington addressed to him on the 16th of April. " I have instructed General Lake," he says, " to commence operations against Holkar as soon as the weather will permit, and I have authorised you to co-operate with him. I approve entirely of the disposition of the troops under 3^our command, as well as of the plan of military operations in the event of a war with Djeswunt Eao Holkar." It was not however General Wellesley's intention to take any active part in a war against Holkar. He did not consider in the unsettled state of the Deccan, that troops could be spared for operations north of the Nerbudda; and had the case been otherwise, there were many and cogent reasons why he should bring his Indian service as soon as possible to an end. The Home Government had not behaved well either to him or to his illustrious brother. His nomination to the staff of Southern India had received no confirmation from the Horse Guards, and it accorded little with his principle of self-respect to retain high and 1804. WELLESLET PREPAEES TO EETURN TO EXGLAND. 53 lucrative office on sufferance merely. He was dissatisfied also with the treatment which Lord Mornington had received. All the despatches recently transmitted from the Court of Directors were sharp to the verge of censure ; while the communications received from the Board of Control had not made amends for this severit}^ As early therefore as the 3rd of January, 1804, Wellesley advised his brother to resign, and avowed his own intention to return to England as soon as a successor to him could be appointed in Mysore.* Neither his advice to the Gfovernor-Greneral, nor his purpose in regard to himself could however be acted upon at that moment. The King's Ministers urged Lord Wellesle}^ to remain at his post in spite of the hostility of the Directors, while Lord Wellesley urged his brother to continue a little longer his services to India, as profitable in peace as in war. For another year Wellesley, though not without some risk to his constitution, and very much to his personal inconvenience, consented to remain in harness, of which under the burning- suns of India, he had become heartily tii'ed. In the autumn of 1804, after he had sent in his first appli- cation to return to Europe, Greneral Wellesley paid a visit to his brother at Calcutta. It was during his residence there that Lord Mornington prevailed upon him to postpone the execution of his purpose. But as week after week stole on, and he found himself again in the turmoil of business at Seringapatam, the desire to escape from it revived. Indeed his constitution, robust as it was, began to feel the effect of years of hard work in a tropical climate ; and the return of feverish S3rLnptoms warned him not to linger too long under their influence. Accordingly his final resolution was taken with characteristic promptitude, and on the 1st of February he applied for leave to visit Fort St. Greorge. He reached that place on the 13th, and on the 16th was offered a passage home in H.M. Ship " Trident." This he accepted, though he had already engaged a cabin in an Indiaman, and was, of course, obliged to pay forfeit on resigning it. But he did not quit the scene of so many toils and triumphs unhonoured. The officers of the army of the Deccan presented him with a gold &pergne, bearing this inscription: "Battle of Assaye, 23rd September, 1803." From the European settlers in Calcutta he received a valuable sword. P'rom the officers of the 33rd Eegiment, an address, expressive of the warmest personal regard, and of regret at his departure. The inhabitants of Madras likewise, civil as well as military, gave him a magnificent entertainment in the Pantheon, and caused his * His letter to Lord Mornington dated Camp, 3rd of January, 1804, is too long for insertion here, but it will amply repay the trouble of perusal. It is to be found in the Supplemental Despatches, vol. iv. p. 334. K 3 54 MEMOIE OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1804. portrait to be painted, that it might be placed among those of the chief benefactors to the province. It happened also that just at that moment official tidings arrived of his nomination as an extra Knight to the Order of the Bath, and of the elevation of Lord Mornington in the Peerage, by the title of Marquis Wellesley. But perhaps among all the many tokens of respect whicb were showered upon him, none touched him more deeply than the address of the native inhabitants of Seringapatam. " You are entitled to our gratitude," said these simple-minded people, " for the tranquillity, security, and prosperity which we have enjoyed under your beneficent administration. We address our prayers to the Grod of all castes and of all nations, that he will grant you health, glory, and good fortune." It is impossible to look back upon the career of Sir Arthur Wellesley in India, extending over well nigh seven years, without being satisfied that these proofs of the respect in which he was held, had they been multiplied four fold, would have fallen in- finitely short of his deservings. For the general policy of the ad- ministration under which he acted, he cannot of course be held responsible. Whatever were its merits or demerits these belong justly to his brother ; for wise as we now know the suggestions of the soldier to have been, the Governor-General, and he alone, must reap the glory or the shame of having acted on them. As soon, however, as we pass from generalities to details — from the settlement of a jDurpose to the arrangements best suited for its accomplishment, and to the execution of these arrangements, — then the genius of Wellesley shines out with extraordinary lustre. He was the soul of the armament whiclj overthrew the Mahomedan dynasty in Mysore : though his military rank at the time was that of colonel only. His campaign against Dhoondia gave evidence of promptitude, decision, and forethought in no ordinary degree. It is shown in his printed correspondence that the plan of the Mahratta War, as well in Hindostan as in the Deccan, was entirely his plan : and of the manner in which he accomplished that por- tion of it which devolved upon himself, the preceding pages ill- effect their purpose if they have not given a tolerably clear account. Provident as well as bold, wise as well as enterprising, he makes all his arrangements before he takes the field, and by removing every excuse for marauding and plunder, he is able to maintain strict discipline among his own troops, and to conciliate the inhab- itants of the districts in which they act. As to his conduct in the hour of conflict, it defies criticism. He cannot be taken by sur- l^rise. His dispositions are made, adhered to, or changed in a moment, as the occasion seems to require. Misled by his spies, he 1804. WELLESLET'S CHARACTEE IN INDIA. 55 finds himself in presence of the enemy at Assaye, when he expected to be upon their flank and a good way removed from them. He sees that there is greater safety in going on than in waiting to be attacked. The very boldness of the step ensures its success, and he triumphs, though at the expense of many valuable lives. His affair at Argam is neither less brilliant nor less decisive ; indeed a new quality is called forth in the progress of that action, for he rallies a body of fugitives under fire — perhaps the most difficult task to which an officer can be put, and leads them on to renewed exertions and to victory. Nor are his merits as a civil administrator less remarkable than as a soldier. His justice and good faith long remained as proverbs in the mouths of the people of Mysore. He never entered into an engagement with them, or with any body else, to the terms of which he did not religiously adhere. His first thought seemed to be, that the honour of the English name should sustain no tarnish, whether his dealings were with friends or foes, with the subjects of the English Government or with foreign princes. *' I am certain," he writes on one occasion to the Grovernor of Bombay, " that you will not succeed in any nego- ciation, unless it be based upon respect for our government, and in which you do not employ language which is open and candid." And by and by, in correspondence with his brother about carrying into effect the treaty of peace which had been concluded with the Mahrattas, he says, " I would willingly give Gwalior ten times over, or all the other fortresses in India, rather than risk the loss of our reputation for scrupulous good faith, and the honourable advantages which we acquired in the last war, and in the peace with which it was concluded. We ought not to sacrifice these advan- tages to arguments founded on the principles of the law of nations, which the people of this country will very little rmderstand. What was it that kept me right amidst the embarrassments of the war, and of the negociations which followed it? British good faith, and nothing else." Sir Arthur Wellesley has been compared as a soldier to Clive ; and Olive's is, undoubtedly, the single name in Indian story which will bear such comparison. They had some qualities in common — though in many respects they differed widely. Botli were daring and resolute, and gifted with that coup cVaiil, in the absence of which no man can become a great commander. But to hardihood and resolution Wellesley added an amount of forethought and a power of arrangement of which we discover few traces in the history of Olive's military life. Doubtless the battle of Plassey is a memorable deed of arms ; for there 4000 men, of whom only 2000 were Europeans, put to flight 50,000 natives. But besides £ 4 56 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON 1S04. that Clive wavered before committing his troops to the strife, he entered into the battle well-knowing that the hostile army had been tampered with, and was engaged to desert its colours the moment it was attacked. There was no such understanding when Wellesley with 8000 men, of whom only 1500 were Europeans, fell upon 50,000 Mahrattas strongly posted at Assay e, and defeated them. There was neither time nor inclination to waver before that great battle began, nor any reliance on treachery to bring it to a successful issue. Of the two actions it may therefore be said, that the one was a desperate struggle fiercely maintained on both sides, the other a bold advance on the part of the assailants, and a hasty, because preconcerted, rout among the assailed. At Assay e a full fourth of the victorious army, 2000 men, were placed liors de com- bat ; at Plassey the casualties in the ranks of the English did not reach 100. We have no desire, in thus expressing ourselves, to detract from the merits of Clive as a soldier. They were of a very high order, particularly in the commencement of his career, when his gallantry saved Arcot, and his enterprise expelled the enemy from the Carnatic, and raised the English settlements on the coast from abject depression to greatness. But even as a soldier he comes far behind the pacificator of Mysore, and the conqueror in the great Mahratta war. In other respects there are no means of drawing a parallel between them. Wellesley though firm, was always temperate. His justice never degenerated into cruelty, and of deceit he was incapable. So sensitive, indeed, was he on that head, that rather than be suspected of pushing even a just claim too far, he would accept the interpretation put upon a treaty by the opposite party, provided there was fair ground to assume that it was not a forced interpretation. The very reverse of all this was Clive. Eude and unmannerly, often cruel, Clive cared for nothing except the attainment of the end immediately before him. He kept faith with the native powers only so far as it suited his own convenience to do so. He could even stoop to the meanness of a forggd treaty, and to the injustice of acting upon it. He amassed a colossal fortune for himself while founding a great empire for his country, and was just as unscrupulous in the means of achieving the former object, as he was indifferent to the demands of moral right in accomplishing the latter. Still to Clive belongs the glory of having founded the British Empire in India ; nor is it, perhaps, going too far to say, that only by such a man as he could it have been founded at all. Wellesley, on the other hand, besides enlarging the limits of that empire, did almost more to consolidate and strengthen it l)y his moderation and jus- 1804. HIS ARMY REFOEMS. 57 tice, thau by his most brilliant feats of arms. As to the advantages secured to himself, they amounted to this, and no more ; — advance- ment in his profession, which came to him by regular rotation, the honour of knighthood, and such a moderate competency, as he has himself well described. '•' I am not rich in comparison with other people, but very much so in comparison with my former condition, and quite sufficiently so for my wants." And this, after having been again and again thrown into situations, of which almost any other man, without casting a stain upon his character, would have availed himself. Again, Wellesley introduced into the constitution and manage- ment of the Indian army, improvements of which the importance cannot be over-estimated. He abolished jobbery, got rid of pri- vileges and exemptions, required every man, from the general to the private sentinel, to learn his duty, and compelled him to do it. The main difficulty of carrying on war in India has a.lways been rather iu the nature of the country, the scarcity of supplies, and the number and description of the enemy's troops, than in the skill of their leaders, or their valour in the field. To these must be added the luxurious habits of European officers, for which the climate offers an excuse, and the necessity of humouring the caste prejudices of the Sepoys, which encumber every corps with followers, often twice and sometimes three times more numerous than the fighting men. To move such an army at all, and to feed it when in motion, make no trifling demand upon the energies of a general. It remained for Wellesley to strike at the root of the more noxious of these habits, and he did so effectually. Instead of attempting to carry his own supplies, he hired Brinjarries, or travelling grain-merchants ; and forasmuch as he treated them well, they never failed him. Baggage and camp followers he reduced to the lowest point compatible with efficiency, and the con- sequence was a celerity of movement such as had never till then been heard of in India. "Nobody," he writes to his brother, " had ever seen or imagined, before that war, such marches as those which I executed when I determined to move upon Berar. I did not make less than from seventeen to twenty miles by measurement, and the day of the battle of Argam, notwithstand- ing the excessive heat, I accomplished twenty-six miles." Unfor- tunately for India, the system which Wellesley established fell by degrees, after his departure, into disuse ; till the whole native army became, at all events in Bengal, not only useless but corrupt. Let us hope that events may have taught greater and more lasting- wisdom to the masters in the recent struggle. As a gentleman and a private member of society. Sir Arthur 58 MEMOIR OP THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1804. Wellesley appears to have commanded in India the same mea- sure of esteem and respect which was conceded to him everywhere else. His chief intimates among his own countrymen were, besides his brothers, Colonel, afterwards Sir Barry Close, Sif John Malcolm, Sir Thomas Munro, Mr. Mount-stuart Elphinstone, and Colonel Wilks, all foremost men in the ranks of Indian soldiers and statesmen. His native friends were numerous also, but of none did he entertain a higher opinion than of Parniagh, the Dewan or prime minister of the Rajah of Mysore. He corresponded with that individual long after he quitted India, and carried with him a portrait of the Dewan, which may still be seen at Strathfieldsaye. Nor was it because of their superior abilities exclusively that he entered into terms of intimacy with his friends. Himself perfectly honest, he took the measure of other men quite as much from their moral as from their intellectual qualities. A bribe, let it be presented in what form it might, offended him grievously. We find him, for example, replying to an English officer, who had consented in the name of the Rajah of Kittoor to offer him a gratuity of 10,000 pagodas, in the event of his securing for the Rajah the protection of the English Grovernment ; " I am surprised that one invested with the character of an English officer should not have made the Rajah understand that such a proposal would be considered as an insult ; and that he did not hinder the Rajah from making it, instead of encouraging him to do so ; and himself, immediately afterwards, accepting a fourth part of the sum." So it was again, during his conference in 1803, with Mo- haput Ram, the Nizam's envoy, who after trying every other method of learning what portion of territory his master was to obtain on the peace, offered General Wellesley seven lacs of rupees (about 70,000^.), on consideration that he would give him the desired information. Wellesley listened gravely to the proposal, and then asked " Can you keep a secret ? " " Yes," replied Mo- haput eagerly, advancing his ear at the same time to listen. " And so can I," was Wellesley's remark. No more passed between them. We must, therefore, deprecate all comparison between Wellesley and Clive, or any other soldier or statesman who served his country in the far East. Clive, Lawrence, Coote, Cornwallis, Harris, Lake, were all good and intelligent public servants in their day, but they occupy a level quite apart from Wellesley. He stands alone. 1S05. WELLESLEY KETURXS IIOxME. 59 CHAP. V. "SVELLESLET EETUBIJ^S HOME. — IS PLACED OlS" THE STAFF. — COMMAKDS A BRIGADE IjST SUSSEX. — ENTERS PAKLIAMEXT. — BECOMES CHIEF SECRETARY FOR IRELAND. — THE SPIRIT OF HIS ADMINISTRATION, On the 10th of March, 1805, Greneral Wellesley embarked in H.M. ship "Trident," and after a tedious, though not a disagreeable passage, reached St. Helena on the 20th of June. He describes himself as entirely restored to health by his residence of upwards of a month in that island, of which he speaks as one of the most salubrious as well as beautiful, which he had ever visited. But a piece of intelligence greeted him on his arrival there, which occa- sioned as much of surprise as of perplexity. Lord Cornwallis it appeared had, without one word of explanation or of warning, been appointed to succeed Lord Wellesley as Governor-Greneral of India. It is evident from the tenor of Sir Arthur's com- munications with his brother, that he could not understand this. Had Mr. Addington been still at the head of affairs, the matter would have been intelligible enough. The Court of Directors hated Lord Wellesley, and Mr. Addington could not afford to make enemies of the Court of Directors. But Mr. Pitt was again First Lord of the Treasury, and from Mr. Pitt the Wel- lesleys had every reason to expect, not common courtesy and support alone, but special approval. Here, however, was the fact staring him in the face that a new Gfovernor-General had been sworn in; and though reports were current that in Mr. Pitt's administration the post of Foreign Secretary had been reserved for Lord Wellesley, he could not trace these to any reliable source; and they did not avail to remove from his mind the impression, that for some reason or another, the appointment of Lord Corn- wallis was intended as a slight to his brother. The " Trident," after waiting to collect a convoy, again put to sea, and Sir Arthur employed himself during the remainder of the voyage in drawing up two papers on subjects connected with the well-being of India. One passes in review the system of 60 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1805. agriculture which then prevailed in the different presidencies, and will amply repay perusal at the present day. The other criticises a plan, or rather a suggestion of Lord Castlereagh, to substitute African for European regiments in the occupation of British India, and to garrison the West Indian Islands with Sepoys. To that scheme Wellesley was entirely opposed. He states, what is true, that the native of India submits rather to the moral than to the physical superiority of the European, and that he never could be brought to regard the African except with contempt and abhorrence. Indeed he goes further : — " It is a curious fact," he observes, "but one whichhas more than once fallen under my observation, that the natives of India have no fear or respect for the military qualities of the soldiers of any European nation excepting the English. I had under my command for some years the Swiss regiment De Meuron, which for good conduct, discipline, and other military qualities, was not surpassed by the English regiments. But the natives heard that they were foreigners, that they had been bought into the service, and they had no confidence in them. \Miat respect or confidence could be expected from them in a band of purchased neffroes '^ " His reasoning against the substitution of Sepoy for European garrisons in the West Indies, is, if possible, still more conclusive : — " There is no man," he says, " who has a higher opinion, or ought to have a higher opinion, of the Sepoys than I have. I have tried them on many serious occasions, and they never failed me. But it must be recollected that in India we never, or scarcely ever, undertake any service with the aid of Sepoys only." " The operations of war in India are always, or ought to be, offensive, if they can be made so ; and it is possible in an offensive operation to have some of the troops who are to perform it, however desperate it may be, of an inferior description. Accordingly in proportion to the service to be performed, we have seen i, 1, -^, -i^ of the nxxmber of the operating army, English soldiers ; and it has been held by great aiithorities, that \ of the whole army in India ought to be of that description. " Since the battle of Cuddalore, in the year 1783, the Sepoys have not been engaged in a regular battle with a European enemy. Upon that occasion a very large proportion, I believe half the army, was composed of European troops ; and it has always been customary in the wars in India, to increase the proportion of the European troops to the natives as the service should appear more arduous. " The services which will be required from the Sepoys in the West Indies will be generally of a defensive nature against the best troops, ex- cepting the English soldiers, which the world has produced. According to the Indian notion of employing Sepoys, I should say that one-hah" at least of the whole number of troops to be employed upon such an occasion 1805. WELLESLEYS MINUTE. 61 ought to be English sokliers ; and even iipon that ground I shouki not think that I coukl save to the mother country half the soldiers required for the defence of the West India colonies. As substitutes, I could not consider less than two Sepoys an equivalent for one soldier ; and then there must be as many soldiers as Sepoys everywhere. Sd that the most that the country could gain by this arrangement, supposing it is intended to provide fiirly and upon known princij^les for the defence of the West Indies, would be ^ of the nimiber of soldiers at present employed there. That is, supposing the number of soldiers now required for the West Indies is 15,000, it might be reduced to 10,000, and the deficiency I should consider to be made good by 10,000 Sepoys. " Li respect to the oiFensive operations in the West Indies, I mean those against Caribs, refi-actory negroes, brigands, &c., the Sepoys are entirely unfit for them. Light troops are best adapted for these operations; and the Sepoys are the worst of all troops for services of this description. The Europeans or the country troops are always employed upon services of this description in India when they occur, Avhich is but seldom, as the country is one generally of plains, and the Sepoys are not trained to them. Another reason why they will never make good light troops is, that the services of light troops naturally depend upon individual talents and exertion, and are carried on out of sight of the officer. Those acquainted with the Sepoys know well that they will do nothing against their enemy excepting led by, and in the sight of, their officers. Add to these defects, that the Sepoys are very delicate troops ; that their health is affected by imwholesome situations and climate equally with the Europeans ; that the service in hilly and woody countries invariably affects them, and at times sends whole battalions to the hospital ; and it will appear that this branch of the plan is not less inefficient than the other, of sending the negroes to India. " The difference between them is, that the West Indies Avill acquire, at least, a harmless defence, but not so the East Indies, as I have already shown. " But the difficulties which oppose the execution of this part of the plan are much greater than those which affect the other, and these are of a natiu*e which, supposing it was likely to be efficient, oiight, in my opinion, to induce Government to abandon it. " In the first place, the embarkation of Sepoys in India has never been otherwise, excepting on the coast of Malabar, than a voluntary service. On the coast of Malabar it has long been the practice to embark the Sepoys at Bombay, and to send them to the northern or southern provinces under that government. But in the season in which these voyages are invariably undertaken the weather is always good, the length of the voyage is known to be only a few days, and short trips of that description are not uncom- mon among the inhabitants of the country. " The Bengal Sepoys have never yet embarked in whole battalions. When native troops are required for foreign service, the practice has been to call for volunteers fi'om the whole army, and the numbers which turn out arc formed into battalions, Avith officers posted to them. Whole bat- 62 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OP WELLINGTON. 1805. talions have embarked upon the Madras establishment, but it has always been a voluntary offer made by the soldiers. " The same mode of proceeding must be adopted with a view to obtain Sepoys for the service of the West Indies not only at Madras and Bengal, but on the BoAbay establishment ; as, although the Sepoys belonging to the latter have been in the habit of embarking for short voyages of a few days' duration, they would be unwilling, and it might create incon- venience to make them embark for service in the West Indies. " To go on the service or not, then, must be left to the choice of the Sepoys ; and if the length of the voyage, the nature of the country to which they are to be sent, and the length of time they are to be absent are fiirly described to them, I think I may ventiu-e to say that very few indeed will vokmtarily offer their services. " But I will suppose that they will offer them. They must have with them a certain proportion of their women, and some of their followers. Measures must be taken to feed them, not only on the passage but in the West Indies, with the description of grain and other food to which each class of them has been accustomed. " Then they must be sent back to India in a reasonable period of time : suppose five years from the period of embarkation. " The European officers from the Company's service must accompany them with their battalions, if whole battahons should volimteer theii- ser- vices, or taken from the regular regiments, supposing that the volunteers for the West Indies should be taken from the whole army, and formed into separate and extra battalions, In either case the European officers must be assured that they will have in the West Indies the same allow- ances as in India, or it may be depended upon there will be no native volunteers for the service. If the Company's officers are to have Indian pay in the West Indies, discontent will be created among the king's officers in the same coiintry. If the volunteers for the West Indies are to be formed into extra battalions, to be furnished with European officers from the regular Sepoy regiments, the establishment of officers in India must be increased, as it is already too small for the service. " There are numberless inconveniences of minor importance, for which remedies can be found, such as the rank to be held by the Company's officers in the West Indies, the mode of conducting native general courts martial, and the authority under which they are to be held, and other matters. But those first stated appear of such monstrous expense and difficulty, as to render the plan to any extent quite impracticable. " If it should be attempted in this mode, which is the only one in which it can be effectual, it must be expected that the recruiting for the Sepoy regiments in India will receive a very serious blow. The families of the natives Avill see with additional disqiiiet their relatives enlist in a service in which they will know that they are liable to be sent to an unknown country, situated in a different quarter of the globe. " If the plan went only to draw fi-om India a certain proportion of men for service in the Island of Jamaica, for instance, where particular preju- dices prevail against the negroes, the best mode of proceeding woiild be to 1805. THE rL.\N ABANDONED. 63 recruit for this niimbcr at Chittagong, in the Bay of Bengal, by means of the king's officers. " But even according to this plan much inconvenience would be felt by the Indian service, as the recruiting officers must either give bounty or promise additional pay, or they would get no recruits. Botmty for enlisting is unknown in India, excepting when the king's officers enlisted for the native regiments in Ceylon, and this enlistment might introduce it. An increase of pay to the troops in India would be equally unnecessary and injurious ; and yet it might be necessary to promise it in the quarter of the country in which these recruiting officers would have been. " Another plan for procuring soldiers for the West Indies from India would be to recruit fi-om the Malay coast, opposite Prince of Wales's Island. The INIalays are a hardy and brave race, and woiild make better soldiers for the West Indies than the people of India Proper ; and to recruit these would not be attended with any of the inconveniences ex- pected fi-om the recruiting in India. " Upon the whole, I do not conceive that this plan would give to India a force which it is suitable to British India to have, or to the West Indies a force which would be efficient for their defence. On the other hand, the difficulties and expense attending the execution of both branches of the plan are such as must tend greatly to overbalance the advantages expected by the more sanguine, but Avhich I am convinced Avould never be found to exist. Those in particular attending the execution of that part of the plan which sends Sepoys to the West Indies, must prevent it from being carried to any useful extent, sujiposing it could be useful at all. " All the arguments upon sending Sepoys to the West Indies apply to sending them to the Cape, with the. difference only of distance, which in such distances as either is from India the Sepoys would be imable to ap- preciate. But if troops are wanted at the Cape, Avhy not send negroes there, and leave India to its old means, viz., English soldiers and Sepoys?" Such arguments as these could not be refuted. The idea, taken up through the pressure for men in Europe, which was then felt and grew continually greater, was abandoned. But let us not for- get that the native army of India is not now what it was then. The Seiks and Groorkas who fill not a few of our native regiments, are neither so inert nor so averse to sea voyages as the Hindoos, and there seems no reason why they should not be employed else- where than in the land of their birth, should the occasion arise. On the 10th of September, Sir Arthur reached England. He proceeded at once to London, and saw Lord Castlereagh, then Pre- sident of the Board of Control, with whom he entered very fully into the whole scheme of Lord Wellesley's administration. He found, as he expected to find, that great efforts had been made to poison the mind of the king's minister against his brother. Even Lord Castlereagh had learned to look with disapproval on Lord G4 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON 1805. Wellesley's wars, and still more upon his treaties, and above all upon the treaty of Bassein.* These impressions Sir Arthur exerted himself to remove, and he had the satisfaction to find that he almost entirely succeeded. His next proceeding, suggested by Lord Castlereagh himself, was to solicit the honour of an interview with the Court of Directors, which, however, the chairman judged it expedient to decline, on the pretext that such a step was utterly without precedent. This done, he betook himself to Cheltenham, then a favourite resort of persons whose health had suffered by long residence in India. But he was not left there undisturbed. Mr. Pitt desired to see him, so did his old friend Lord Camden, and so also did the Marquis of Buckingham, one of the leaders in those days of the opposition. His own account of the visit to Stowe is curious ; and his conferences with its noble owner contrast strikingly with what seems to have passed between him and Lord Bathurst-t Deal, 21st Dec, 1805. " Bucky is very anxious that you should belong to the opposition. He urged every argument to induce me to influence yoiu- mind against Pitt, particularly that he had not given you the Garter. He told me that you might depend upon the cordial and active support of himself, his brothers, his son, and all his friends ; that they had stipulated with Fox that they were to give yovi this support in any question that might arise on your administration ; but he expressed a hope that you would not at once throw yourself into the arms of Pitt, forgetting yoiu* old friends and con- nexions. I told him that I was convinced you would follow the wise advice given you by Lord Grenville, Avhich was to come home and look about you, and settle all the cpiestions relating to your Indian Govern- ment before you should take any part in politics, or belong to any party. He then pointed out the inducements Avhich Pitt would hold out to you, all of them in his opinion strong ; but they were office, power, and the means of revenging the injiuies you have received from the Court of Directors, about which body I suppose you will never think after you will arrive in England. On the other hand, he urged that to join the oppo- sition was the best political game of the day ; and this notion was founded upon the difference of the age of the king and the Prince of Wales. " I was with Lord Bathurst at Cirencester, and had some conversation with him respecting you. He said that although, of coiuse, he was desirous of renewing his old habits with you, and that you should be with Pitt, it was his opinion that you ought not to take any decided part in party politics innnediately upon your arrival, or till yowv Indian questions should have * The Treaty of Bassein was, beyond doubt, the immediate canse of the Mahratta war. But sxich a war must have come sooner or later ; and the treaty placed England on very favourable grounds, both during the continuance of hostilities and afterwards. t Indian Supplementary Despatches, vol. ir. p. 538. 180a. LETTER TO THE MARQUESS OF WELLESLEY. 65 been settled. Lord Buckinghamshire, with whom I also had a conversa- tion very lately upon the same subject, is of the same opinion. " As for my part, I have no doubt upon the subject, and I strongly recommend it to you to remain neutral for some time, and observe the course of events. The Court of Dii'ectors, by their conduct, have left yoii in an awkward predicament regarding several acts of your administration ; but, excepting the Mahratta war, upon which I am inclined to beheve that there miist be a Parliamentary decision, I rather think that the remainder may as well be left alone. The real truth is that the pubhc mind cannot be brought to attend to an Indian subject. It appears to me that people in general were much prejudiced againf:-t the whole system of Mahratta poli- tics, because it was necessary to attack Holkar, because Monson was defeated, and because Lord Lake failed before Bhurtpoor ; and you cannot bring their attention to the subject sufficiently to enable them to under- stand you, and to prove to them that those events which all must lament, had nothing to do with the system of Mahratta politics which occasioned the treaty of Bassein. " In the same way the treaty of Oude and other measures are equally misunderstood, and it is equally difficult to make people sufficiently atten- tive to be able to understand them. For this reason I Avould stand upon the defensive. Keep Pitt well charged with information and prepared in the House of Commons, and yourself in the House of Lords, and whenever an attack is made, lay forth all your strength upon the particular point to which it may be directed. Henry and William are both of the same opinion. " In regard to myself, I have to tell you that I have seen the Duke of York but once, upon my arrival in England. He was very civil, and said he should be happy to avail himself of an opportunity to employ me. I rather think that, upon the whole, they have not treated me very well in not giving me a regiment. Bucky tried to inflame me iipon this point, but of course I have said and shall say nothing upon the subject. " The Court of Directors invited me to one of their Wednesday dinners, at Avhich they were personally civil to me, and I believe that I stand well with that august body. But upon my arrival I proposed to wait upon them by desire of Lord Castlereagh, and the chairman recommended that I should withdraw my proposition, because it had no precedent. The real reason, however, for which they refused to receive me was, that they were apprehensive 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 concerned. Lord Castlereagh told me this, but I don't wish that it should be mentioned to him again. " By the by, now that I think of it, I mention that I don't believe that Lord C. knows that it was Pitt's intention to consult with Lord Grenville about the mode of defending you in Parliament. " I will not enter into the particulars of our late unfortunate attempt to reach the Weser, you will see it all in the papers, and I only hope the next attempt will be more fortunate, but it does not now promise very well. I will write to you from the continent, when I shall hear of your aiTival in Enrrland. 66. MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 18C6, " I cannot conclude this lettei' without congratulating you u2jou the state in which I find your children. I saw Richard in London, before I went to Cheltenham, and I think him one of the finest young men I ever met with. I called upon him afterwards at Oxford, upon my return fi'om Cheltenham, but he was with his mother at Brighton, and he after- wards went to Oxford, where he has remained ever since. The two other boys are also very fine fellows, and the girls (particularly the youngest) are very handsome and accomplished. This is some consolation, even if your services should not have been considered and treated as they deserve. But you have this additional consolation in the reflection that by your firmness and decision you have not only saved, but enlarged and secured the invaluable empire entrusted to your government at a time when every- thing else was a wreck, and the existence even of Great Britain was problematical. " Believe me, &c., " Arthur Wellesley.'' The result of these several conferences was to satisfy Sir Arthur that, powerful as the party might be in the Direction which desired to crush Lord Wellesley, there was no disposition among the chiefs, either of the Grovernment or of the Opposition, to make common cause with that party. Hence, when the proper time came, he experienced no reluctance to enter Parliament under the auspices of statesmen whose general policy was not in accordance with his own viev/s, but from whom, in the matter of his brother's Indian administration, he received the most generous support. Among other persons in authority Sir Arthur waited upon the Duke of York, who received him very graciously, and promised soon to find for him active employment. Nor did his Eoj^al High- ness fail to keep his word, for on the 3()th of October Sir Arthur was gazetted as major-general on the home staff, and being posted towards the end of the year to a brigade of infantry, he was directed to proceed, under the orders of General Don, to Hanover. The expedition, as is well known, came to nothing, and Sir Arthur was transferred to Sussex. Here he remained, doing a brigadier's duty with his head-quarters at Hastings, till April, 1806, when for the first time he took his seat in the British House of Commons as member for the borough of Rye. The circumstances were these : — The death of Mr. Pitt, followed not long afterwards by that of his great rival, Mr. Fox, led the way to the formation of that mixed government, which, being made up of statesmen of different shades of opinion, is known in history sometimes as " the coalition government," sometimes as "all the talents." At the head of this government was Lord Grrenville, who, without expecting or 18C6. LOKD CASTLEREAGHS SENTIMENTS. 67 even desiring the general support of Sir Arthur Wellesiey, pro- posed, for the sake of a common object, to bring him into Parliament. A fierce attack had been made at the opening of the session on the Indian administration of the Marquis of Wellesiey, and Lord Grenville, the early friend of the late Governor- General, conceived that Sir Arthur, because of • his intimate acquaintance with the subject, would be better able than any less instructed person to expose the injustice of the attack. But Sir Arthur, warmly attached as he was to his brother, did not accede to the minister's proposal till after he had taken counsel with his own friends then in opposition. Among others he wrote to Lord Castlereagh, and received from him the following characteristic and graceful reply : — '■ St. James Square, Wednesda}- Evening. " My dear Wellesley, " I lose no time in replying to your letter, wliicli 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 opinion, I think you cannot permit yourself for a moment to hesitate in accepting Lord Grenville's proposal. Your 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 conchisive. I am sure Avhatever may have occru-red to associate Lord Grenville with other connexions in the Government, that Mr. Pitt's friends, so far as their sentiments can be permitted to weigh on such a point, will be unani- mously of opinion that, circumstanced as Lord Wellesley is at present, both with respect to the Government and the active steps taken lo arraign his public conduct, your first and only consideration must be the pro- tection of his character and services from unjust aspersions, Avhich your intimate knowledge of the details of his Indian administration must qualify you above any other individual to do." Assured by this and other similar communications that his acceptance of Government patronage would not be regarded as a breach of political faith, Sir Arthur entered Parliament ; where he proved eminently useful to the cause which he had been invited to support. The ostensible leader in the attack upon Lord Wellesley was one jMr. Paul, an individual who had amassed a large fortune in India as a merchant ; whom Lord Wellesley had treated with marked kindness both in Calcutta and elsewhere, and who repaid it after his return to England by throwing himself into the arms of his benefactor's enemies. Obtaining a seat in Parliament, he became the tool of that party in the Direction which could never forgive the late Governor-General for succeeding in a policy of which they disapproved. It is not worth while to enter here into the extravagant charges which they brought against Lord Wellesley, F 2 68 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTONS". 1807. or to describe the harassing and expensive litigation to which he was in consequence subjected. Enough is done when we state that soon after Sir Arthur took his seat for Rye, Mr. Paul committed suicide, and that the member on whom his mantle fell came no better out of the contest than he had done. Lord Wellesley was acquitted, by a large majority of votes, of everything like moral delinquency ; and his system of government was pronounced to be deserving of commendation. To that just issue. Sir Arthur had the satis- faction of knowing that the honest and straightforward statements which he made had largely contributed. Sir Arthur had been in Parliament not quite a year, when those events befel which led to the overthrow of Lord Grrenville's administration, and to the appointment of a government pledged to a line of action directly the reverse of that, which in one im- portant point at least, the retiring cabinet had adopted. The "talents," or to speak more correctly, a majority of them, came to the conclusion that Ireland, of which the condition w^as then most unsatisfactory, would never be pacified unless his Majesty's Eomau Catholic subjects were placed in all respects on a footing of f)oliti- cal equality with their Protestant countrymen. Aware, however, of the King's strong objection to the arrangement, and not ignorant that as yet public opinion w^as entirely against it, they hoped to effect their object coverti}^ and, as it were, by degrees; and with this view they proposed, by special enactment, to render Eoman Catholic gentlemen legally eligible to commissions in the army and in the navy. Now it is worthy of remark, that looking no farther than to the object avowedly sought, there was no occasion for any such enactment. Eoman Catholic gentlemen served already as commissioned officers both in the army and in the navy, and though it might be true that they did so on sufferance, there was nothing to show that either by themselves or by others their position was regarded as a false one. Moreover the King had pointedly objected to the introduction into the Mutiny Act of a clause giving a legal sanction to that arrangement. When, there- fore, Lord Howick, afterwards the Earl Grey of 1831 and 1832, introduced into the House of Commons his famous Eoman Catholic Army and Navy Service Bill, he took a step of which he could scarcely be ignorant that the Sovereign would wholly disap- prove. There followed accordingly discussions in the Cabinet and communications with the King, into the details of which we are not called upon to enter. But the results are well known. The confidence of the Crown in its constitutional advisers was shaken. Irritation on both sides grew day by day more bitter, and the ministers resigning on the 25th of March, 1807, the Duke of 1807. CHIEF SECRETARY FOR IRELAND. 69 Portland was called upon to form a new administration. To that administration Sir Arthur Wellesley became attached as Chief Secretary for Ireland, the Duke of Eichmond being at the same time appointed Lord Lieutenant, Lord Manners Lord High Chancellor, and the Eight Hon. John Foster, Chancellor of the Exchequer, Ireland having then an Exchequer of its own. The state of Ireland both social and political was at this time very deplorable. Shut out from the administration of the affairs of their own country the Eoman Catholic gentry were agitating for the repeal of the disabilities under which they laboured. The Eoman 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 high and low were become alike demoralised 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, resulting 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 better than to keep soul and body together, by agriculture carried on in its rudest form, and eked out by universal mendicancy ; 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. Noblemen and gentlemen commanding votes in their respective counties or boroughs, sold them to the best bidder; sometimes for a single session, sometimes for a whole parliament, sometimes for a series of years. And as the party in pov/er was generally in a condition to offer a better price than the party in opposition, the Grovernment 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 important trusts, the care of managing what were called the political in- fluences of Ireland. This had been done time out of mind, with just so much of disguise as to render the corruption over which the veil was assumed to be thrown, doubly hideous. Now of hypocrisy in this or in any other case, Sir Arthur was incapable. Taking office as a subordinate member of the Government, he took it with all F 3 70 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1807. its responsibilities, and he acquittedbimself of these responsibilities in civil life, exactly as he would liave 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, such a course of proceeding lay quite apart from his idiosyncrasies. He never went about the bush in asking for parliamentary sup- port. His negociations were all open and above board. Places, pensions, advancement in rank, sums of money were promised in exchange for seats ; and deaneries and bishoprics, equally with clerkships of customs, and tide-waiters places balanced on one side, votes in the Houses of Lords and Commons on the other. We 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 affairs, we must look rather to results than to matters of detail. You condemn the Grovernment 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 Grovernment, and if that Grovern- ment cannot be obtained except through the venality of individuals, you surely won't blaine those who turn even the moral weaknesses of individuals to good account?*' " Perhaps not ; but can that be the best possible government which rests upon the moral obliquity of a whole nation ? " " 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 been so. For one member who was returned, through what you call corruption, to the United Parliament in 1807, 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 pin-chase the support of that tenth, by what you call cor- ruption, it was surely justified in securing such support, rather than allow these members to go over to the opposition." " But can you justify this practice of buying and selling seats in the legislature at all ? " "Now you are opening up the whole question of constitutional government. If you mean to ask whether I, as an individual, could bring myself to barter political influence for pi'ivate 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 what- 1607. WELLESLEY'S OPIMOX AND PRACTICE. 71 ever 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, with 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 boroughs ? " *' No, I do not. Close boroughs are generally less open to be swayed by mercenary considerations than larger constituencies. Some of them belong to great noblemen, whose general views are either in agreement with those of the G-overnment, whatever it may be, or opposed to them. These great noblemen are not to be bought by offers of place for themselves or their dependants : and still less by bribes in money. Others are in the hands of gentlemen who represent 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 Grovernment tells the most, particularly in Ireland, where, in 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 Wellingfton used 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 v/hich 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 correspondence a line which, if fairly read, goes to prove that his opinions 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. Thus, on the 2nd of May, 1807, he says to one not very scrupulous expectant : — F 4 72 MEMOIK OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1S07. To " Dublin Castle, May 2nd, 1807. " My dear Sir, " I have this instant received your letter of the 1st, and I am much concerned that it did not contain a positive answer to the qiiestion in mine of the 30th April. I have already had the honour of apprising you that the Duke of Eichmond was unwilling to engage for the disposal of any bishopric, and he is particularly unwilling to enter into such an engagement in order to entice you to accept an office which he has reason to believe would be agreeable to you. All that he can do is to assure you that when a bishopric will become vacant your son's claim to preferment shall be considered with those of others. " In respect to the office of Joint Muster-Master, I told you in mine of the 30th April, ' that it was possible that it might be got for you,' and I have written by express to London to request that if it be possible you may be appointed to that office. If it should not be possible, of course your son will be appointed a Lord of the Treasuiy. " Ever, dear Sir, " Yours most sincerely, " Arthur Wellesley." Again, when pressed to apply for a seat at the Board of Customs in favour of an individual who seemed to him to have no claim in right, he thus communicates with the head of the Grovernment on the subject: — " is making great interest, and asserts that it was promised he should have his office again, or another, and the Duke of Cumberland has written to the Duke of Richmond about him, and Long to me, as says, by desire of the Duke of Portland. I acknowledge that I think a seat at the Board of Revenue too high for a man of 's calibre ; but it is my duty to lay his claim before you, and you will consider of it with those of others, about whom I wrote to you yesterday." It was not however to points of this kind that Sir Arthur's attention was exclusively directed. On him devolved the care of the internal tranquillity of the country, over which he watched with untiring interest ; and by a skilful use of the means at his disposal, succeeded generally in maintaining it. He was consulted also in regard to the military defence of Ireland, upon which subject he drew up two elaborate papers, both of which deserve perusal, though they are too long for insertion here. He introduced, at the same time, many useful changes in the machinery of the adminis- tration ; foremost among which may be cited, the re-organisation of the police of Dublin, which not only led to excellent results at the time, but became in after years the model of that admirable system, for which England is indebted to the late Sir Robert Peel. 1807. HIS EEFORMS. 73 And all was done with such temper and tact, that opposition, though violent at first, melted before it, till they who had been loudest in condemning his suggestions, came in the end to be among the warmest of his eulogists. As a specimen of the skill with which he restrained the over-zealous, even when their desire was to give support to the Government, take the following letter to the Archdeacon of Dublin. It was in answer to a communication from that dignitary, informing Sir Arthur that the clergy were about to vote an address of thanks to the King for resisting Lord Howick's attempts to break in upon the Protestant constitution, and for changing his Ministers. "Dublin Castle, 21st April, 1807. " My dear Sir, " I have spoken to the Duke of Richmond on the subject which you mentioned to me yesterday, and Avliat follows is the result of my communi- cation with him. No man can have a doubt of the opinion of the clergy of the diocese of Dublin on the events which have occurred in the course of the last week, and therefore it does not appear necessary that they should declare it in the manner which you had in contemplation. If it be not necessary that the clergy of Dublin should address his Majesty upon this occasion, it is certainly desirable that they should avoid it. It would be difficult, if not impracticable, to frame an address on this subject which would not contain expressions, and in which topics would not be u.sed, from which it is most desirable that this respectable body should at present refrain. Eveiy man must be desirous that the King's subjects in this country should live in amity with each other. But this great object can never be attained if we do not avoid opportunities which may offer to use language and topics which, howeA^er well intended, founded in fact, and well apjDlied, are likely to hurt the feelings of others. On this ground, therefore, I agree in opinion with the Duke of Richmond in expressing a wish that the clergy of Dublin should set the example of moderation upon this occasion, and avoid taking any public notice of what has been passing." With the same true wisdom he dissuades the yeomanry of Enniscarthy from celebrating the anniversary of the battle of Vinegar Hill, because as he points out, " the only result that could follow, would be the exasperation of party spirit." After assuring his correspondent that the Lord Lieutenant " could have no wish to check that sentiment among military men which prompts them to celebrate the achievements of themselves, or of their brother soldiers," he goes on to say, " but in the case under consideration, the wish of the corps of yeomanry does not apply only to the commemoration of a military achievement; and it appears impossible to celebrate the victory of Vinegar Hill without recalling to the recollection, not only of those who celebrate, but of 74 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1807. the country in general, the persons over whom that victory was gained, and all the unfortunate circumstances of the times which concurred to bring about that state of affairs, which rendered that battle and victory necessary. His Grace cannot believe that those who wish to commemorate their military achievements are desirous to hurt the feelings of others, however blameable and guilty they may have been. And he does not suppose that they can wish to perpetuate the memory of the unfortunate circumstances which led to the contest in question." Among other admirable suggestions there is one which he seems to have repeatedly pressed at this time upon the Cabinet, but which was not adopted till a year or two later. We allude to the expediency of rendering the militias of Grreat Britain and Ireland available for service in all parts of the United Kingdom. There was an old law in existence which authorised the Gfovernment in case of need to employ the Irish Militia out of Ireland, and this, though it had long fallen into disuse, he succeeded in reviving. But the more salutary as well as more constitutional plan which now provides for the interchange of English and Irish Militias, he failed to bring about. It is clear however from his correspondence, that the merit of proposing that plan rests entirely with him, and we know that his arguments in its favour, though resisted for a while, ultimately prevailed over both national and party prejudices. ISO". THE PEACE OP TILSIT. CHAP. VI. EXPEDITION TO COPENHAGEN. — BATTLE OF KEOGE. — WELLESLEY's CAHE OF THE INHABITANTS. — KETIJIINS HOME. — HIS IRISH ADMINISTKATION. — HIS MINUTES ON SOUTH AMERICA. Such were Sir Arthur's occupations when that stroke of national policy was determined upon, which led to the capture of the Danish fleet, not without subjecting the Danish capital to the horrors of a bombardment. As a good deal of misapprehension prevailed at the time, and still prevails with regard to that matter, we make no apology for placing the facts of the case in as clear a point of view as our limits will permit. It is now well known that the backwardness of the "Talents " Government to support Russia and Prussia was one great cause of the defeat of the allies at Friedland, and of the subsequent peace of Tilsit. Had British money been available even after the battle, reinforcements might have been moved from the interior to the Niemen, — while 20,000 or 30,000 British troops advancing from the shores of the Baltic, would have determined Austria to take part with the coalition, jeopardised Napoleon's communications, and forced him to retire upon the Rhine. It is true that on the fall of Lord Grrenville's administration, steps were taken to resuscitate Mr. Pitt's great scheme, and that 10,000 men, the advanced guard of a larger force, proceeded under the command of Earl Cathcart, to the Isle of Rugen. But they arrived just in time to be made aware that the Emperor Alexander had come to terms with Napo- leon, and that England was left without a single ally on the con- tinent of Europe. It seldom happens that great powers after measuring their strength in war, form treaties of peace without annexing to them conditions which it would be inexpedient to lay bare, except to the parties immediately assenting to them. The treaty of Tilsit is famous beyond all the other treaties of modern times, for the extent to which this convenient arrangement was carried. After openly providing for the dismemberment of Prussia, and for the erection out of its disjointed parts of the Grand Duchy of Warsaw 76 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. ]807. and the kingdom of Westphalia ; after handing over to Eiissia the Polish province of Bialystock, and engaging the good offices of France to reconcile the differences between the cabinet of St. Petersburg and the Porte, — the two Emperors entered into a secret engagement, which, ha^d it been followed up to its legitimate issues, would have divided the sovereignty of the world between them. To Eussia was to be made over the Empire of the East, to France the Empire of the West, and as a measure preparatory to the accomplishment of these ends, the whole maritime strength of Europe was to be directed against England. M. Bignon, long the French Ambassador at Berlin, whom Napoleon by his will charged with the duty of writing a history of his master's diplo- macy, makes no attempt at concealment in regard to this point. He states explicitly that overtures of peace were to be made to England on such terms as France and Eussia could approve. That should these overtures be rejected, Eussia was to make common cause with Fi-ance, and that if peace were not actually ratified on the 1st of November, the Eussian ambassador was on the 1st of December, to quit London. Meanwhile France and Eussia should jointly summon the courts of Copenhagen, Stock- holm, and Lisbon, to close their harbours against English vessels, and recalling their ambassadors to declare war against Great Britain. The result of such a combination would have been (as Napoleon himself has informed us) to place at his disposal 180 sail of the line, 100 of which employed against the English Colonies, would have given occupation to the greater portion the British fleet; while the remaining 80 might obtain such command of the Channel as would enable the Emperor to throw 200,000 men on the shores of Sussex and to march upon London. Happily for the world the instruments of wrong on such a gigantic scale are seldom true to each other. The judicious application of money obtained for the British Government a copy of these secret articles, on which, however, it did not proceed to act till the Eussian Minister, having been questioned respecting them, first denied their existence, and then disputed the right of any third power to seek explanations on points which the con- tracting parties had not submitted to it. A cabinet was imme- diately called, which, after brief deliberation, came to the con- clusion that England was bound to postpone other considerations to that of self-defence. It had become her duty to anticipate the blow with which the last hope of liberty for Europe was threatened, and to save Denmark with or without her own consent from the degradation as well as the misfortune of being made a party to it. The preparations which had just been completed for supporting 1807. WELLESLEY's RESOLUTION TO SEE SERVICE. 77 Russia and Prussia by land as well as by sea, enabled the Govern- ment to fit out and despatch with unwonted celerity, an over- whelming force to the Baltic. Lord Cathcart's corps was already on the spot, and another of equal strength embarked and put to sea from the East coast of England under convoy of twenty-seven sail of the line. To this latter corps Sir Arthur, on his own application, was attached as general of division. But now arose a difficulty. Neither the Lord Lieutenant nor the head of the administration was willing to lose Sir Arthur's assistance as Chief Secretary for Ireland. He was determined not to be kept back from service in the field, by any considerations of public, far less of private convenience, and a compromise was in the end effected which could not fail to be agreeable to all parties. It Avas calcu- lated that the operation would occupy about three months ; that during these months the duties of Irish Secretary might be per- formed by proxy, and that as soon as the object of the expedition was accomplished, Sir Arthur could, vvithout any inconvenience to the public service, resume his place in Dublin. If, indeed, the war should be prolonged beyond three months, then Sir Arthur must cease to be Irish Secretary, but nobody counted on such a result, and the event fully justified the anticipation.* In pursuance of this arrangement, Sir Arthur, after attending up to the last moment to Irish affairs, proceeded on the 3rd of July to Sheerness, and there took ship. On the 3rd of August the Danish coast was sighted ; but as the troops arrived only by driblets, — a misfortune scarcely to be avoided in those days, — it was not till the morning of the 16th that the disembarkation in * The following extract from Sir Arthur's correspondence will show how determined at this time he was to follow up his profession, and how very little considerations cf personal profit weighed with him in comparison with the calls of duty. Though in better circumstances than previously to his service in India, he was still far from rich, and the salary of the Chief Secretary for Ireland was then 8000/. a year. He wi'ites, however, on the 7th of June, to Lord Castlereagh, and says : " As I am deter- mined not to give up the military profession, and as I know that I can be of no ser- vice 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 this imputation (the imputation of preferring lucrative civil employment to active service in the field). If therefore you send the expedition I wish you woidd urge Lord Hawkesbury to fis upon a successor for me, as I positively cannot stay here whether I am to be employed upon it or not." In the same spirit he addresses himself, on the 24th of July, to the Duke of Richmond: "I accepted my office in Ireland solely on the condition that it should not jjreclude me from such service when an opportunity should offer, and I am convinced that though you may feel some inconvenience from my temporary absence, supposing 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" is MEMOIR OP THE DUKE OF WELLIXGTOX. 1S07. Zealand began. It belongs rather to the general historian than to the biographer of Wellington, to describe the operations which followed. Ever desirous of rendering war as little destructive as possible, and especially anxious that, on the present occasion, the enemy should be tenderly dealt with. Sir Arthur advised that an attempt should be made to starve Copenhagen into submission. For it was soon ascertained that the place was too strong to be re- duced except by the process of regular siege ; and as the equip- ments of the ' invading army were quite inadequate to such an undertaking, the only alternative left to the British general was to try the effect either of blockade or bombardment. Lord Cathcart, however, took a different view of the subject. After a brief en- gagement between the English craft on one hand, and the Crown battery and Danish gun-boats on the other, in which the Danes had the best of it, the army was pushed forward within 700 yards of the town, where mortar batteries were established. Twenty- four hours were granted to consider of the terms which the in- vaders were authorised to offer. These, as is well-known, implied the surrender, in deposit, of the whole Danish navy ; an under- taking being afforded by Great Britain, that on the conclusion of a general peace, every ship should be restored in the same condi- tion as when it passed into the British Admiral's hands. The Danes, a proud and gallant people, rejected the proposal with scorn, and the British batteries opened. " I acknowledge," writes Wellesley, on the 28th of August, to Lord Hawkesbury, " that I should prefer an establishment upon Amag, as a more certain mode of forcing a capitulation than a bombardment. In fact the Danes are fighting only for their credit ; it would be disgraceful not to bear a bombardment, but no city with a population of 70,000 or 80,000 inhabitants, can be expected to hold out when cut off from all supplies of provisions. Besides I think it behoves us to do as little mischief to the town as possible, and to adopt any mode of reducing it, ra,ther than bombardment." While this was going on under the walls of Copenhagen, Wel- lesley was detached with his division to disperse a force co-mposed partly of regular troops, partly of militia, which had assembled at a place called Kirkerup, under the Danish Greneral Castenkiold. Wellesley moved in two columns, and, with his usual celerity; but all the country was against him. He could obtain neither guides nor intelligence ; and hence, on arriving at Kirkerup he found that some field-works which had been begun there were abandoned, and that' the enemy had gone off towards Keoge, whence they could with greater facility threaten the rear of the besieging army. This was on the 27th; on the 28th he followed, and on the 1807. BATTLE OF KEOGE. 79 29th brought them to action. It was a sharp but short affair. The advanced position of the Danes, on the north side of the town, was soon carried. An entrenchment into which they retired was assaulted with great vigour, and the enemy, driven in confu- sion back upon the town itself, immediately dispersed. Fifteen hundred prisoners, including General Oxholm, with other officers of rank, fell into the hands of the victors, and ten pieces of cannon were taken. Wellesley followed up his success with characteristic celerity, and became at once the master and the protector of the surround- ing country. He sent all the Danish officers to head-quarters, with a recommendation that they should be permitted to go at large on their parol. He placed guards in the houses of the gentry to prevent them from being plundered, and caused the cottages of the peasantry, as well as their persons, to be respected. "On one occasion having been too late to prevent an outrage, he did what he could to repair by apologising for it. We find a letter, dated 1st September, 1807, to the Countess of Holstein, which runs thus: — " Upon my march from Keoge towards this part of the coimtrj, I heard with the greatest concern that a detachment of British troops, which had piu"sued the enemy on the side of Valve Slot Eye, had committed excesses in the convent, fi-cm which your royal Highness and your servants had suffered. I cannot sufficiently 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 excesses. The zealous desire of these offi- cers to remove the disgrace which these offences have brought upon their regiment 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 High- ness to pardon those excesses, in consideration of the ignorance of the soldiers that your Highness resided at Valve Slot Eye, and of the circum- stances 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 buildings 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 : — " Thullargsholm, 4th Sept., 1807. " Sir, " It is an obligation to me to thank you, most sincerely and of my heart, for the protection you have given me in these days your troops have laid in my neigjibourhood. I can never forget it ; I shall still 80 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1S07. remember it ; and I beg you most humbly that you never will withdraw me this protection so long your troops are staying here ; it will still be a comfort to me and family, in letting us live in rest and security. I cannot finish this without giving the best testimony to the people that you have given me to guard. They have always behaved there as people belonging to a great and generous 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 acknowledgments I take the liberty 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 Chevalier de Wellesley, I shall not ask in vain. With sentiments of the most distin- guished regard, I subscribe myself " S. C. E. COMPTESSE DE HOLSTEIN. " I shall send one to inquire whither the peasantry have betaken them- selves, and when I know, shall have the pleasure of informing the Cheva- lier. I am infinitely obliged to you for your desire to be of use to the peasantry, and shall ever be with the greatest regai-d." * On the 6th of September, after sustaining a bombardment of three days, Copenhagen proposed to capitulate. Greneral Wellesley was thereupon recalled from his post in the rear ; and, being ap- pointed commissioner, proceeded, the same night, into the town. Some wild projects had been entertained at home of retaining the city and the island on which it stood, but of these Wellesley took no notice. He wrote, indeed, to Lord Hawkesbury, and explained how perfectly impracticable such a scheme would be, and how ne- cessary for the honour of the British crown that no addition should be made in the hour of success to the somewhat hard terms which, before hostilities began, had been offered to the Danes. But he did not hesitate, seeing that hostilities had taken place, to demand the unconditional surrender of the fleet. It was conceded, though not without violent opposition from the people, and especially from the seatnen, when next day the British troops were put in possession of the citadel, and such points as gave them military command of the harbour and the dockyards. How the business * Supplementary Despatches, vol. vi. p. 19. 1807. SIR ARTHUR RETURNS TO ENGLAND. 81 of seizing the fleet and dismantling the building-yards was carried on, history has recorded. The purpose of the expedition having been thus fully accom- plished, and no signs of a renewal of hostilities appearing, Sir Arthur Wellesley applied for leave to return to England. This, after a brief delay, was granted, and taking his passage in a frigate which carried home the despatches, he arrived on the 30th of September in London. There a wife and infant child were ready to greet him; for on the 10th of April, in the previous year, he had married the same Lady Catherine Pakenham, to whom when a young captain of cavalry he became attached. Two sons were the fruit of this marriage ; the eldest, born on the 3rd of February, 1807, the youngest on the 16th of January, 1808. Both entered the army when of sufficient age, and both survived their illustrious father, the one having attained the rank of colonel, the other of lieutenant-colonel, at the period of his death. Sir Arthur resumed at once, and as if no break had occurred in them, his duties as Chief Secretary for Ireland. So early as the 1st of October, for example, he writes from Harley Street to the Duke of Eichmond, assigning reasons why, in his opinion, it would be injudicious to place the city and county of Limerick under the Insurrection Act. From London he proceeds to Dublin, where we find him on the 14th engaged in all the details of civil and military administration. The question of tithes was at that time agitating Ireland, and the owners of land, as well Protestant as Eoman Catholic, equally demanded their abolition. Among others, Lord Clarina writes to Sir Arthur on the subject, and receives a reply full of good sense, and in argument perfectly conclusive. " The tithes," says Sir Arthur, " are a part of the produce of the land, allotted to the maintenance of the clergy, the right of which now rests upon a title very similar to, and equally sacred with that of any individual, to the estate out of which those tithes are to be paid, and the same arrangements which lead to a conclusion and resolutions that the tithes ought to be abolished would equally apply to a resolution that no rent ought to be paid. The difference between them would be, that the arguments when used, and the resolutions when applied, to the abolition of tithes, come from those gentlemen who enjoy the rents; but when they shall be applied to rents they will be urged and enforced by the more nu- merous and i30werful body, the occupiers of the soil who pay the rents. Indeed, as I will endeavour to point out to you presently, this last body is much more interested in producing an abolition of rents than it can be in anything relating to tithes." He then touches upon the injustice which abolition would occa- G 82 MEMOIE OP THE DUKE OP WELLINGTON. 1807. sion to lay impropriators, " whose property in tithes has been derived either by purchase or descent in the same manner with that of land which has been purchased ;" and proceeds thus : — " But the professed object of proposing those resolutions is not less fallacious than the real effect of them is dangerous. The object stated is to relieve the poor from an intolerable burden. The fact is that the tithes although paid immediately by the occupier of the soil come ultimately from the pocket of the landlord. There is one species of tithe, viz. the agistment tithe, from which all lands in Ireland are exempt, and it has been so, either on the resolution of the House of Commons, or by law for many years. It does not appear, however, that the tenant derives any advantage from this abolition, or that it is cheaper or more profitable for a tenant to take grazing-lands which pay no tithes, than corn-lands of which the tithe is taken ; for, in point of fact, what is taken from the clergyman is given to the landlord; and it is well known, as must necessarily be the case, that lands exempt from tithe both in Eng- land and Ireland, let at a higher rent than those from which tithe is taken. The result, then, of this expedient professed to be for the relief of the poor, would be to put more money into the pockets of the landlords, if indeed any landlords should continue to exist." The letter from which we have given these extracts will amply repay perusal in detail. It argues with great ability the question, as it then presented itself to every honest mind ; but it overlooks the inevitable check given to improvement by a transfer of a por- tion of the improved crop from the cultivator to the tithe-owner ; as well as the irritation produced as often as a third party, neither landlord nor tenant, steps in without incurring either expenditure or risk to claim what the law awards him. From these difficulties the Tithe Commutation Act has happily freed this country. Yet there is a spirit of prophecy in Sir Arthur's writings, which, so far as Ireland is concerned, seemed at one time not far from achieving its own accomplishment, — and if ever the Tenant-right Bill should pass into a law, the claims of landlord and occupier must come into such close collision, that before many generations pass, results will probably occur in the highest degree unsatisfactory to the former of the two classes. If the opinions entertained by Su- Arthur on the tithe question were just, his views in regard to the education of the Irish people seem to have been at once liberal and wise. In acknowledging the receipt of a communication from E. H. Tighe, Esq., one of the Government Board of Education, of which Henry Grattan and Mr. Parnell were likewise members, Wellesley says : — " As the question has been referred by the legislature to a board 1808. SIR ARTHUR ON EDUCATION. 83 consisting of gentlemen selected by the Lord Lieutenant, as being best qualified to consider and to suggest the means of carrying into execution the views which Parliament had, when the law was passed, under which that board was constituted, it would not be proper that a person holding the office which I fill should interfere in it, till the board will have had an opportunity of making its report ; but most particularly would it be improper that I should give opinions on questions which are to be brought under the con- sideration of the board for their decision. Under these circum- stances I feel a great disinclination to deliver an opinion even in this form to you, on the resolution which you have it in contem- plation to propose to the board. However, as you have desired it, I will tell you that in my opinion, the great object of our policy in Ireland should be to endeavour 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 the other." * The correspondence from which we have just quoted, clearly shows that the religious condition of Ireland had begun, even thus early, to excite Sir Arthur Wellesley's misgivings. We are not, indeed, prepared to say, that as yet the thought of throwing- open by law places of power and influence to Eoman Catholic laymen, had matured itself in his mind; but he looked upon the social condition of the priests, connived at rather than tolerated, and subsisting on the bounty of their pauperised flocks, as worse than anomalous. The following letter to the Duke of Eichmond ex- plains his views on the subject, based upon the fact that the Irish Eoman Catholic prelates were prepared to give to the Crown a veto on all ecclesiastical appointments, and to accept the bounty of the State if it were offered to them. It gives at the same time a not very satisfactory account of the internal state of the Grovern- ment of which he was a member. "London, 6tli June, 1808. " My dear Duke, " If what Grattan and Ponsonby declared respecting the disposition of the Roman Catholic priests in Ireland be true, wliicla I have reason to believe it is, there can be no objection to giving stipends to the Eoman Catholic clergy, excepting the general objection to stirring the question at all during the King's life ; and those which might be stated and are felt by Perceval and the red hot Protestants, to making any concession whatever, as it only creates fresh demands and fi-esh dangers to the Chiu'ch. " I am convinced that unless the ministers draw better together, par- * 19th November, 1807. o 2 84 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1808. ticularly on the subject of Ireland, than they have clone this session, they Avill not only be unable to hold their offices, but they will entirely ruin the King's alFairs. I will tell you more upon this subject when we meet. In my opinion there are faults on both sides, but the great fault of all is the want of concert in private, and of apparent co-operation in j^ublic." Besides directing his attention to gi-eat subjects like these, which for good or evil tell upon all time, Wellesley was indefatigable in providing for those minute and constantly occurring wants, in- difference to which or carelessness in supplying them, involves not individuals only, but Grovernments and Empires in embarrass- ments. He continued to manage the political interests of Ireland as he had heretofore done, bartering openly and undisguisedly place and pay for votes. He provided for the peace of districts threatened with insurrection. He proposed and carried into effect improvements in the machinery both of the customs and of the ex- cise. He made arrangements to meet the invasion from abroad, which appears at that time to have been expected by all classes of persons. For the details of his management in regard to these various matters, we must refer the reader to the volume of Irish Correspondence, which the present Duke of Wellington has recently given to the world. But the volume in question is not occupied entirely with these details. It shows that the intellect upon which all this work of internal administration was thrown, found leisure notwithstanding to digest extensive plans of foreign ag- gression. A project seems to have been entertained by the Cabinet for some time back, of operating by sea and land against the Spanish South American colonies. It was submitted to Sir Arthur Wellesley so early as 1806, and he dealt with it, as he was accustomed to do with every important subject that came before him, in elaborate minutes. Not fewer than fourteen of these have been preserved: the first dated November 2nd, 1806; the last June 8th, 1808. They indicate throughout not only a thorough knowledge of the art of war in all its details, but a perfect ac- quaintance with the geography of South America, and of its resources, as well political as military. Had not the changes, which were already beginning in Europe, interfered to prevent his plans from being carried into execution, there is no telling what the effect might have been at the present da}^ upon the whole of the New World. But these changes were already in progress, and to them, and to the opening which they afforded for the display of Wellesley's transcendent abilities as a commander, we must now turn our attention. 1808. NAPOLEON DETERMINES TO INVADE SPAIN. 85 CHAP. VII. FRENCH IKVASION OF THE SPANISH PENINSULA. — WELLESLEY SAILS WITH A FORCE FROM CORK. — VISITS CORUNNA. — LANDS IN MONDEGO BAY. AFFAIR OF ROLISSA. — BATTLE OF TIMIERA. — ARRIVAL OF SIR HARRY BURRARD AND SIR HUGH DALRYMPLE. — CONVENTION OF CINTRA. — AVELLESLEY RETURNS HOME. So early as 1806, before his war with Prussia, Napoleon had matured a plan for dismembering Portugal, and wresting from Spain some of her most valued provinces. The outlines of this plan were communicated to Lord Yarmouth at Paris, whither Mr. Fox had sent him the same year to negociate a peace ; and the information being conveyed to the courts of Madrid and Lisbon, occasioned great alarm in both, with no small amount of indignation. A treaty of alliance, offensive and defensive, was contracted between them. A secret correspondence was at the same time opened with the northern powers, which, however, the imprudence of Grodoy, Prince of the peace, revealed prematurely, and which the issues of the battle of Jena brought to a sudden conclusion. From that hour Napoleon determined that the Spanish Bourbons and the House of Braganza should cease to reign ; and, waiting only till he had concluded the peace of Tilsit, he pro- ceeded, with his usual celerity and boldness, to carry the design into effect. We have elsewhere referred to the secret articles in the treaty of Tilsit, and to the command laid upon Sweden and Denmark to make common cause with France and Russia ag'ainst Encjland. A similar mandate was transmitted to Portugal, which, after ar- ranging to accept for her defence an English army and fleet, had withdrawn her consent to receive the former, and required the latter to quit the Tagus. This unwise rejection of an English alliance did not atone for the crime of having in the first instance assented to it. Napoleon's demands became more exacting, as the Portuguese Government evinced a disposition to yield to them, till at last the patience even of that feeble court gave way. It was well that it did so ; for neither the arrest of British subjects G 3 86 MEMOIE OP THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1808. nor the confiscation of British property, nor the seizure of British merchantmen in Portuguese waters, would have sufficed, had all been done, to divert the French emperor from his purpose. Tlie story of Napoleon's treachery to the Peninsular nations has been told so often that to repeat it here, excejot in the merest outline, would carry us beyond the purpose of the present nar- rative. Overreaching Spain in the treaty of Fontainebleau, he was permitted to march Junot's corps upon Portugal, and to occupy Lisbon just as the King and Court were escaping, under the pro- tection of the British fleet, to Brazil. Then followed the surf)rise of the Spanish frontier fortresses and the advance of a French army to Madrid. Then a succession of political frauds, such as are without a parallel in the history of modern times. Charles IV. had hardly abdicated in favour of his son Ferdinand, when Fer- dinand himself was constrained to undertake a journey to Bayonne. By and bye all the other members of the royal family were sent for ; and all, after a fruitless effort on the part of the inhabitants to restrain them, depai'ted in the same direction. Having thus got the Bourbons quite into the toils, Napoleon threw off further disguise. Partlj^ by threats, partly by cajolery, he induced them to make over to himself their right to the Spanish throne, and immediately transferred it to his brother Joseph. It was the maddest, because the most uncalled-for outrage that could have been offered to the self-respect of a proud people. The resources of Spain were as completely at his disposal while she remained under the sway of her native princes, as he could ever hope to render them under a sovereign chosen by himself. There was no conceivable inducement to interfere in her internal affairs beyond the indulgence of a morbid hostility to the House of Bourbon ; and in order to secure that indulgence, he risked the chance of bringing himself for the first time into direct collision with popular feeling. He appears not to have been entirely blind to this fact even at the moment ; he lived to acknowledge, and in his exile to lament it as the greatest blunder in his marvellous career. " It was that unhappy war in Spain which ruined me. The results have proved, beyond contradiction, that I was in the wrong. There were serious faults in the execution ; one of the greatest was that of having attached so much importance to the dethronement of the Bourbons. Charles IV. was worn out. I might have given a liberal constitution to the Spanish nation, and charged Fer- dinand with its execution. If he had put it in force in good faith, Spain would have prospered, and put itself in harmony with our new institutions. If he failed in the performance of his engage- ments, he would have met with his dismissal from the Spaniards 1808.. STATE OF SPAIN. 87 themselves. The unfortunate war in Spain proved a real wound^ the first cause of the misfortunes of France. If I could have foreseen that that affair would have caused me so much vexation and chagrin, I would never have engaged in it." * All this is true ; but of another truth Napoleon studiously forgets to take notice. The Spanish war might have proved troublesome, but he would have brought it to a triumphant conclusion, had not Eng- land stepped in to fight for the insurgents ; and England herself would have probably failed to fight to any good purpose, had not the genius of Wellesley been present to direct and control her efforts. The cruelties of Murat in Madrid stirred the anger of its in- habitants. The rumour of what had passed in Bayonne drove the entire Spanish population wild. In every town, village, and hamlet men ran to arms. They attacked and cut to pieces strag- gling parties of French troops ; they put to death in cold blood Frenchmen who had dwelt peaceably among them for many years ; they showed no mercy to Spaniards who were suspected of enter- taining French views. It was the most ruthless as well as the most complete national rising that had ever occurred, and the internal condition of the Peninsula contributed much to its success. The peasantry, though trodden down for two centuries under an iron despotism, still acknowledged the influence of their nobles and of their priests. Of the nobles a few, and only a few, con- sulting what they believed to be their own interests, joined the intruders. Some endeavoured to observe a sort of neutrality by retiring to their estates, but by far the larger number placed them- selves at the head of the movement, in the perfect assurance that they would be able to carry the masses along with them. The priests to a man took part with the insurrection, and rendered to it the most important services. They gave and transmitted orders ; they superintended the execution of them ; they carefully con- cealed the defeats of the national troops, exaggerated every trifling success, and invented victories when none had been achieved. They did not hesitate, in the cause of their country, to spread false intelligence ; they preached up hatred to the invaders, and en- couraged terrible reprisals. They were at once the missionaries and staff officers of the Crusade ; they kept the lower orders in ignorance of the benefits which would accrue to them from the intrusive government, and persuaded them that, as Godoy was the sole cause of the evils which prevailed, so Ferdinand alone could restore prosperity to Spain. These proceedings were greatly favoured by the absence of all the ordinary means of intelligence and of rapid communication. * St. Helena Memoire. o 4 88 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1808. News arrived everywhere at long intervals, and, when it came, seldom conveyed a correct representation of things as they were. It was besides easy to form encampments and to assemble troops in a country of which the inhabitants always go about armed, and are accustomed to live night and day in the open air. Sober, active, careless, prompt to be inflamed, warm in their friendships, fierce and persevering in their hatreds, the Spaniards are pecu- liarly fitted to carry on a war of defence. Their soil itself offers remarkable facilities for so doing; indeed, in some of the pro- vinces bands of a thousand men or more, though badly armed and badly fed, may without risk hang for weeks upon the flanks and rear of an invading army, and inflict upon it severe losses. Hence, the insurrection had hardly broken out before entire corps of French troops found themselves cut off from all communication with their supports. Duhesm vainly endeavoured to make himself master of Saragossa, Manresa, and Grerona. Eeille failed in a similar attempt upon Rosas. Moncey sustained a repulse, and by and bye Dupont laid down his arms to the ill-organised levies of Reding and Castagnos. Finally the capital of Arragon held out against Lefebre for two months, the happj^ prelude of a second siesfe which recalls to our remembrance the heroic efforts of Nu- mantia, Seguntum, and Jerusalem. Meanwhile, at Cadiz, Admii-al Rosily surrendered his fleet on the sole condition that the lives of his crew should be spared. Of all these disasters the climax arrived when Joseph, after occupying the throne for barely ten days, retired from his capital, and was forced to canton with the bulk of his troops on the other side of the Ebro. The recoil of these events was soon felt in Portugal. In the month of June a Junta came together at Oporto with the Bishop at its head. It exercised supreme authority over the northern provinces, and contracted an alliance, offensive and defensive, with Gralicia. The movement extended into the south, where Junot's position had become so critical that he was obliged for his own security to disarm and make prisoners of the Spanish regiments, which, in compliance with the treaty of Fontainebleau, had been placed under his orders. It is a remarkable fiict that this outburst of the Peninsular nations had been foretold so long ago as 1805 by Mr. Pitt. He was at that time Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports, and enter- tained at Walmer Castle some statesmen and military officers, of whom Sir Arthur Wellesley was one. Intelligence arrived one day while they were at dinner of the capitulation of Greneral Mack at Ulm and Napoleon's march upon Vienna. It was re- ceived with the utmost consternation, insomuch that one of the 1808. ME. PITTS PROPHECY. 89 gentlemen present exclaimed, " Our last hope of resistance to Buonaparte is gone ! " *' Not at all," replied Mr. Pitt ; " we shall have another European coalition against him ere long, and Spain will take the lead in it." Observing that his remark was treated with apparent incredulity, Mr. Pitt went on to say : " I tell you that Spain is the first Continental nation, which will involve him in a war of partisans. Though her nobles are debased and her government wretched, the people still retain their sense of honour and their sobriety, and they hate the French. Buonaparte will endeavour to tread out all these feelings, because they are incom- patible with his designs ; and I look to that attempt on his part for kindling the sort of war which will not cease till he is destroyed." Had Mr. Pitt lived to witness the accomplishment of the first part of his prophecy, it is more than probable that he would have turned the occasion to good account. But the Grovernment had passed from him to men who were at once too ignorant of mili- tary matters to perceive the opening presented to them, and too timid to avail themselves of it when pointed out by others. Pro- fessing to believe that in a war of defence enthusiasm more than supplies the lack of discipline, they lavished upon every provincial junta which appealed to them arms, clothing, stores of every kind, and money. The stores, clothing, and money thus dispensed, were for the most part appropriated by individuals to their own use ; the arms were distributed among men, who generally threw them away as soon as they came into the presence of an enemy. Mean- while though England swarmed with troops, of whom the Duke of York stated in writing that he could safely spare 60,000, at least, including 10,000 or 15,000 excellent cavalry for foreign service, not a member of the Cabinet seems to have suggested the pro- priety of employing these 60,000, or any portion of them in the Peninsula. And when at last the pressure from without became irresistible, a wretched compromise was all that could be wrung from them. The Grovernment would not commit itself to a con- tinental war on a large scale. It dreaded the expense, it distrusted its generals, it had little confidence in the valour of its soldiers, but it would not object to try the effect of a diversion in favour of the Spanish patriots, just as in former years it had effected di- versions in favour of the French royalists at Toulon and in Quibe- ron Bay. In pursuance of this determination a corps of troops already assembled at Cork, were directed to embark, and to Sir Arthur Wellesley the command of the expedition was entrusted. The instructions which he received were both vague and unsatisfac- tory ; and that they who penned them anticipated but little from 90 MEMOIK OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1808. the movement into which they had been forced, is proved by the fact, that they not only did not require Sir Arthur to resign, but absohitely prohibited him from resigning the office of Chief Secretary for Ireland. Past experience had shown that for a limited interval at least, the duties of First Secretary could be carried on by deputy ; and there was nothing in the future, which so far as the Cabinet could perceive, warranted the belief that this expedition to the Spanish Peninsula would prove either more important or more protracted than the attack upon Copenhagen. On the 12th of July the expedition put to sea. The force embarked consisted almost exclusively of infantry, comprising among others a veteran battalion, that is to say a battalion made up of men worn out by age or wounds or exposure to climate, and therefore quite incapable of operations in the field. There were attached to the infantry 6 officers of engineers, with 11 artificers. The cavalry numbered 346 rank and file, with 215 horses. The artillery 345 gunners and drivers, with 12 pieces of cannon un- horsed. There was no commissariat ; there was no medical de- partment, and the staff could boast neither of experience in the field, nor of theoretic training at home. The 'physique of the men was however excellent, and their armament and clothing, as compared with those of continental troops, extremely good. The total strength on paper amounted to 1,016 officers and non-com- missioned officers, 227 drummers, 9505 rank and file, and 215 horses. But from this so many deductions were necessarily made, including, besides sick and orderlies, the battalion intended for garrison duty, that to reckon upon bringing 9000 bayonets and sabres into line was to take a somewhat sanguine view of the future. Such was the amount of force which England sent out to sustain the Peninsular nations in their efforts against the common enemy. Nor was it committed to so desperate an enter- prise except after much hesitation and grave misgivings on the part of the Grovernment. But if the Grovernment wavered and distrusted itself, the people of England did not. There were those both in Parliament and out of it, who turning into ridicule efforts so unworthy of a great nation, demanded that much more should be done ; and more was done in consequence though with such entire absence of judgment as to ensure, if not absolute failure, a grievoiis short- coming of popular expectation. On the 30th of June, Lord Castle- reagh submitted to Sir Arthur Wellesley his final instructions. These directed him, after communicating mth the Spanish authori- ties at Corunna, to make an attempt upon the Tagus, either imme- diately, if he should believe himself strong enough to ent-er upon - Irrmnniimflniim Montpelli' f * L V «>- PtI1>lgTl>-ll 1^ J n s ' -\l lai^m 1808. MINISTERIAL INCONSISTENCIES. 91 the campaign at once, or by and by when Spenser should have had time to join him with his division. If the latter alternative were preferred Wellesley was to obtain leave to anchor in Vigo Bay, and to wait there till Spenser should arrive. But the fleet had sailed exactly three days when fresh and contradictory instruc- tions were drawn up; and in a despatch dated the 15th of July, which however did not reach Wellesley till the beginning of August, Lord Castlereagh informed him that his corps was but the advanced guard of a larger army; that 5000 men were already embarked at Eamsgate and Harwich, and would sail immediately ; that 10,000, consisting of Sir John Moore's corps, which had just returned from Sweden, would follow as soon as the transj)orts could be revictualled ; and that 2000, withdrawn from the garrison of Gibraltar, would in due time be added. The total strength of the army would thus be raised to 30,000 men. But the command of 30,000 men was too important a charge to be committed to an officer of Sir Arthur's standing. His Majesty had therefore con- ferred that honour upon Lieutenant-Greneral Sir Plugh Dalrymple, Governor of Gibraltar. Lieutenant- General Sir Harry Burrard was to be second in command ; while the six divisions into which the force was to be broken up, were placed under the orders, re- spectively of Lieutenant-Generals Sir John Moore, the Honourable John Hope, Mackenzie Frazer, Lord Paget, and the Honourable Sir Arthur Wellesley. Thus by a stroke of the pen, the only British officer then living, who had been at the head of great armies, and conducted successfully great operations, was superseded in his command, and placed at the bottom of a list of seven, not one of whom, whatever his natural abilities might be, had ever enjoj^ed the opportunity of proving that nature had endowed him with the qualities which are necessary to make up the character of a general. Sir Arthur Wellesley sailed from Cork in ignorance that such a trial awaited him. Though charged by Lord Castlereagh not to quit his troops, but to communicate with the junta of Gallicia through a staff officer, he judged it expedient to disregard this part of his instructions, and taking his passage in the " Crocodile" frigate, he proceeded in person to Corunna, while the rest of the fleet kept its course towards Cape Finisterre. He reached Corunna on the 20th, and entered into immediate communication with the junta, and Mr. Stuart the British agent there. He received from them intel- ligence, which contained a good deal of fiction and some truth. They talked of the enthusiasm of the people as irrepressible; told of numerous small successes achieved, and of more antici- pated ; and though unable to deny the defeat of the combined 92 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OP WELLINGTON. 1808. armies of Castille and Grallicia at Eio Seco, they professed to be in no wise cast down by it. Finally they urged him to pro- ceed at once to the Tagus, where his presence might effect great good, themselves declining any support except in money and military stores. Under these circumstances Sir Arthur remained in Corunna only a single day, and having distributed money and arms to the patriots, and informed the Grovernment of what he had done, he set off in search of the fleet in the direction of Cape Finisterre. He came up with it on the 22nd, and after a brief conference with Sir Pulteney Malcolm again pushed on ahead. On the 24th he arrived at Oporto, where matters proved to be in a much less sa- tisfactory state than the Government had led him to believe. The French force in Portugal instead of 6000 or 7000 was represented to be 15,000 strong. In point of fact, as was afterwards proved, it amounted to 26,000. Of Portuguese troops there were but 8000 with their standards, besides volunteers and peasants. All were badly armed and equipped. " The peasants have I believe no arms but pikes, and those called regular infantry are composed of individuals belonging to the different corps of the Portuguese army." But the temper both of the Government and of the people seemed to be good. The Bishop promised whatever was asked, including 150 horses, 500 mules, and a constant supply of fresh meat — whereupon the fleet, which had come in on the 20th, again put to sea. It steered in the direction of Mondego Bay, for here Sir Arthur was strongly urged by Admiral Sir Charles Cotton to effect his landing. Indeed Sir Charles had already thrown ashore a battalion of marines, with which he occupied a post at Figuera in front of Coi'mbra. Accordingly having satisfied himself that the advice of the Admiral was sound, Wellesley made all the necessary preparations to act upon it. Sir Arthur reached the mouth of the Mondego on the 30th of July, when there was handed to him Lord Castlereagh's despatch of the 15th. The intelligence conveyed in it was little gratifying to his self-love, but he did not allow it to damp for a moment his zeal in the public service. He wrote in reply : " All that I can say on that subject is, that whether I am to command the army or not, or am to quit it, I shall do my best to ensure its 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 com- menced, in order that I may acquire the credit of the success." Towards other portions of the despatch he was less merciful. He pointed out how ruinous it would be to fritter away the strength of an army of 30,000 men by dividing it, and strongly urged that 1808. THE ARMY LANDS. 93 the efforts of England should be limited, in the first instance at least, to the deliverance of Portugal. And then with as much cheerfulness as if he were opening the way to a long career of glory to himself, he set about the difficult, and as the event proved, the tedious task of landing his troops. It chanced that there had been heavy gales in the Bay of Biscay not long before, and the surf, when the lightest breeze stirs on that coast, runs strong at the mouth of the Mondego. The fleet was, besides, miserably supplied with boats and barges ; for England, though in those days at the height of her maritime supremacy, seemed little to understand the uses to which it ought to be applied. The disembarkation, therefore, which began on the 1st, was not completed till the 5th of August. But as if to reconcile him to the difficulties of his situation, Greneral Spenser arrived with his division on the 6th. It was a mere lucky coincidence ; for though orders had been sent to call him in from Cadiz, they never reached him ; and his cruise westward and northward was undertaken rather as a means of adding to his own acquaintance with the general condition of the coast line than for any other purpose. The result, however, was that on the morning of the 7th Wellesley found him- self at the head of 12,300 good troops, destitute indeed of the means either of transport or supply, except such as the fleet afforded, but in a high state of discipline, and full of confidence in him and in themselves. French writers in general, and ]M. Theabault in particular, criticise Wellesley's proceedings at this juncture as slow and irresolute. He had completed his landing in the evening of the 6th, yet he made no movement in advance till the 9th. How could he move sooner? He had everything to provide, — horses for his guns, and in part at least for his cavalry ; mules for the conveyance of his stores and even for his ammunition ; and besides that his own staff was too untutored to be of the smallest use to him, the local authorities proved not only indifferent but contradictory. Don Bernardo Friere, for example, lay at this time at Leyria with 5000 or 6000 Portuguese troops. Instead of marching these to the coast and forming an immediate junction with Wellesley, he urged Wellesley to plunge headlong into the province of Beira ; and when Wellesley very pro- perly declined to separate himself prematurely from the fleet, Friere refused to move at all, unless the English would undertake to feed him. Nor did the matter end there. Friere siezed a depot of provisions which the Bishop of Oporto had collected for the use of the English army, and avowed his intention of withdrawing be- yond the Tagus, and there undertaking operations of his own. With the rare tact which belonged to him, Wellesley not only kept 94 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1808 his own temper during these discussions, but prevailed upon the jealous Portuguese in the end to come to terms. It was agreed that Friere should place at Sir Arthur's disposal 1400 infantry and 250 cavalry : that he himself should remain where he was with the rest of his division till the 22nd, in order to cover the English rear ; and that Wellesley, instead of being himself fed from the resources of the country, should from the ships feed the Portuguese cavalry and infantry that were lent to him. While these things were going on, Junot, advertised of the ap- pearance of an English fleet off the coast, made preparations to meet the danger with which he was threatened. He directed Greneral Loison, who had been detached with 5000 or 6000 men into Alentajo, to return across the Tagus; and pushed forward Greneral Laborde, with 5000 more, to observe the English when they shoidd land. These two corps, Loison's and Laborde's, were to form a junction at Leyria ; while Junot himself, gathering in as many detachments as could be spared, should follow, and unite himself with them, in order to fight a decisive battle. Wellesley, however, though for the reasons already assigned he was not in a condition to move before the 9th, proved too quick for the enemy. Follow- ing the coast line, he arrived within eight miles of Leyria on the 10th. The point of concentration for the French advanced corps was thus rendered insecure, and Laborde, ascertaining the fact, halted at Eolissa, whence he pushed his advanced corps as far as Alcobaja and Obedos. From Alcobapa the French withdrew in the night of the 13th, and on the 14th the English took possession of it. But the enemy still held Obedos ; and there, for the first time, they exchanged shots with a few companies of English riflemen. "We had yesterday," writes Wellesley on the 16th, "a little affair of advanced posts foolishly brought on by the over- eagerness of the riflemen in pursuit of an enemy's picket, in which we lost Lieutenant Bunbury of the 95 th, killed, and Pakenham slightly wounded, and some men of the 95th and 60th. The troops behaved remarkably well, but not with great prudence." Still looking to be joined by Greneral Loison, and unwilling either by retreating on Torres Vedras to separate from him, or by moving on Alcantara to uncover Lisbon, I^aborde stood fast at Eolissa, which offered an admirable defensive position for such a corps as he commanded. There he resolved to accept a battle, should the English general venture to deliver it ; and, as he had under his orders 5000 infantry, 500 cavalry, and 5 guns, he hoped to render it, whether successful or the reverse, more hurtful to the assailants than to himself. Besides, he counted on the arrival of his colleague, who was moving up from Kio Major, 1808. BATTLE OF EOLISSA. 95 before tbe English should be able to dislodge bim ; and he not unnaturally concluded that in this event, 10,000 or 12,000 French veterans, assisted by the advantages of the ground, would prove more than a match for 13,000 or 14,000 raw troops. HadWellesley delayed only a few hours in accepting the challenge thus offered, or had he taken time to turn the enemy's position instead of at- tacking it in front, the probabilities are that Laborde's anticipations might have been realised. But Wellesley was perfectly aware that more was to be gained at that juncture by hard blows promptly struck than by any process of manoeuvre, be it ever so skilfully planned and executed. He therefore moved forward at daybreak on the 1 7th with 13,680 infantry, 470 horse, and 18 guns; and attacked at once. Wellesley's order of battle was very simple. He covered his front with skirmishers, and drove the enemy's pickets out of the plain. Meanwhile he advanced in three columns. The right, consisting of 1200 Portuguese, and 50 horsemen, went round the mountains with a view to turn the enemy's left and fall upon his rear. The left column, consisting of two brigades of English in- fantry, three companies of riflemen, a battery of light guns, and 40 horse, was directed to cross the hills of Abydos, to carry the posts on that side of the valley, to drive the enemy's right out of Rolissa, and to interpose between Laborde's corps and the line of march by which Loison was known to be approaching. The centre column, comprising 4 infantry brigades, 380 cavalry, and 12 guns, was to carry the passes, at the head of which the French line was formed. The immediate effect of this disposition was to alarm Laborde for his line of retreat. He withdrew, therefore, from his first position, skirmishing as he went, and took up a second, along the ridges of the heights of Colembapa. Here a fierce struggle en- sued, for the approaches to the ridge were steep and narrow, and the English could not bring up their force except piecemeal. It ended, after six hours' hard fighting, in the retreat of the enemy, who left three pieces of cannon on the field, and sustained a loss in killed and wounded of 600 men. That of the English amounted to no more than 70 killed, 385 wounded, and 74 missing. The battle of Eolissa, though in itself a trifling affair, was of the greatest importance, morally, to both armies. It gave to the English that confidence in themselves, and in their leader, which is the sure presage of success in war ; and it showed the French that an enemy whom they had been taught to despise, was quite equal to themselves in courage and endurance, and noways behind them in pliability and coolness. By Wellesley himself, it appears 9G MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1808. to have been accepted as a result which had never been doubt- ful. Writing about it to the Duke of Eichmond, he says : — " You will see that we have beaten a French corps yesterday. The action was a most desperate one between the troops engaged. At the same time, if I could have got a sufficient number of troops up in time, I should have taken or destroyed their whole corps." Yet Laborde behaved admirably ; though wounded early in the day he never dismounted, and changed his ground not fewer than seven times, before finally quitting the field of battle. The retreat of the French was conducted in excellent order, which Wellesley found it impossible to disturb. Besides that he was greatly inferior in cavalry, his guns were miserably horsed ; and his infantry, not yet recovered from the enfeebling influence of a sea voyage, were too much fatigued at the close of the day to march rapidly. It has been urged by Sir William Napier, that Wellesley committed a mistake in not moving at once after the defeat of Laborde, upon Loison. The latter, it was assumed, was still in the air, and must have withdrawn across the Tagus if seriously threatened. But this is a great mistake. While the affair of Kolissa was going on, Loison's patrols touched Laborde, and the two corps forming a junction the same night, moved off together in the direction of Montecheco. On the other hand, there could be little doubt, that the English, if advanced on the 18th to Torres Vedras, would have interposed between Junot and the combined corps of Laborde and Loison ; in which case, the object of the expedition would have probably been accomplished without incurring the risk of a second battle. And this move- ment it is clear that Wellesley intended to effect, had not in- telligence reached him during the night of the l7th, of the ar- rival of General Anstruther and his brigade on the Tagus. But Anstruther's brigade, like every other body of troops despatched at that time from England, was destitute of even the commonest means of transport. The sole choice submitted to Wellesley, was therefore between leaving^ them behind altogether, or moving in the direction of the landing-place in order to amalgamate them with his own force. He adojated the latter alternative, though not till, in a long and lucid despatch, he had explained to Sir Harry Burrard, now expected from hour to hour, the exact nature of his position, as well as the plan of operations on which, if the command of the army had rested with him, he was prepared to act. With a view to gather in the troops now upon the coast, Wel- lesley turned away from the Torres Vedras road, and following a pathway to his right, arrived on the 18th, at Lourinha. Thedis- 1808. ARRIVAL OF SIR HARRY BURRARD. 97 embarkation of Anstruther's brigade, began next day, and on the 20th, 16,000 British bayonets, 420 sabres, and 18 guns — besides 1400 Portuguese infantry, and 400 Portuguese cavalry, were bivouacked in and around the village of Vemiera. This was not a position of defence which Wellesley had taken up, but a mere haltinof-crround whence to cover the disembarkation of men and stores ; and from which as soon as these operations should be con- cluded, he proposed to advance. For he determined, by following the coast road, to turn the position of Torres Vedras, to seize the principal heights above Mafra, and to cut in upon the enemy's communications with Montecheco. Meanwhile, Sir John Moore, landing at the mouth of the Mondego, could execute a movement upon Santarem, where he would be able at once to protect the English left, to block the course of the Tagus, and to threaten the line of the enemy's retreat upon Elvas. Such was Wellesley's plan, towards the execution of which all preliminary arrange- ments were completed. Indeed, the troops had received orders to sleep upon their arms, so as to be in readiness to move at early dawn on the 21st, when the arrival of Sir Harry Burrard in Maceira Eoads, was announced, and the command passed immediately from Wellesley's hands, into his. It was an incident as ill-timed as it was unfortunate. Burrard could not be brought to see matters in the light in which Wellesley endeavoured to place them. He considered a flank march alonoj a narrow coast road too daneferous to be attempted. He was unwilling to act upon two lines, when by a little delay his whole force could be concentrated. It was to no purpose that Wellesley, who personally waited upon him on board ship, explained, that already, without Sir John Moore's corps, he was superior in numbers to the enemy. Burrard seems to have been one of those officers who believe that in war, no risks whatever are to be run ; and so Wellesley, having received orders to keep his ground till Sir John Moore should arrive, re- turned to Vemiera satisfied that the game was up, as he at least would have played it. While the English thus settled their affairs, Junot called in as many detachments as could be spared, and joining them to Laborde's and Loison's corps, put himself at their head. As Wellesley had anticipated, he at once assumed the initiative. Moving from Torres Vedras at daybreak on the 21st, he arrived about 8 o'clock within view of the English position, and made his arrangements imskilfully and rashly to attack. Instead of massing his strength on the English left, and striving to overwhelm it, an arrangement dictated by every consideration, both of his own nu- merical inferiority, and of the nature of the ground, he divided II 98 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 180S. his force into separate columns of attack, and committed the still more unpardonable mistake of not carrying these simultaneously into action. The consequence was that Wellesley was able, by moving troops from his right to his left, alternately to support both, and to frustrate every attempt of the enemy, mthout bring- ing more than half of his own people under fire. The first attempt of the French was upon the English right of the village, where Greneral Fane's brigade and the 20th Light Dragoons were posted. It was delivered with great vigour and as vigorously sustained, till Ferguson's, Nightingale's, Ackland's, and Bowe's brigades came up in succession, overmastered the assailants, and drove them back. Just then, and not till then, another French column fell upon the left of the village, where Hill's brigade kept them in play till Ferguson's and others arrived to his support. At first the enemy seemed to be gaining ground, for they arrived within musket- shot of the churchyard, which however had been occupied by English troops, and from which a terrible fire fell upon them. They could not sustain it, but retired in confusion. More than once the same scene was re- enacted, for the enemy seemed unwilling to take a denial ; but on each successive occasion the advance was made with diminished impetuosity: and at last the whole army, leaving 13 guns and 1800 dead and wounded behind them, retired from the field. Their retreat, though not a disorderly one, was in two opposite directions, so that a prompt movement in pursuit must have been attended with decisive consequences. They abandoned also the shortest road to Torres Vedras, by seizing which the English would have interposed between them and Lisbon ; while Moore's corps, had it marched to Santarem as Wellesley advised on the 20th, would have rendered a movement on Elvas impossible. Unfortunately, however, Burrard, who was not on the field when the battle began, arrived just in time to stop the forward move- ment which Wellesley had directed. He saw, or believed that he saw, fresh troops coming up to support the fugitives. He thought that enough had been done, considering the divided state of the British army, and that to attempt more would incur the risk of forfeiting the advantages already achieved. Wellesley, trained in a school which requires implicit obedience from inferiors to their superiors, could only remonstrate against orders which he never- theless obeyed. The victorious army halted and returned to its ground, Avliile the French made good their retreat by Torres Vedras upon Lisbon. The mortification of Wellesley at such an abortive issue was great ; yet, except by a passing remark to the gentlemen of his 1808. SIR HUGH DALEYilPLE TAKES THE COMMAND. 99 personal staff, he made no open manifestation of his feelings. His private letters to Lord Castlereagh, to the Duke of Eichmond, and Mr. Stuart show what his opinion was of the military talents of the officer whom Grovernment had sent out to supersede him. " Sir Harry Burrard,"' he says, " who had come into the roads of Maceira on the night of the 20th, landed during the action of the 21st; and if I had not been prevented, I should have pressed the enemy to Torres Vedras on that evening, and in all probability the whole would have been destroyed." But opportunities such as this, once lost, never come again. Junot was now compara- tively safe ; for though too weak to keep his hold on Lisbon, a line of retreat through Alentejo, upon Elvas and Almeida, was open to him. And so long as he should be able to retain these places, the English army would find work enough to do without passing out of Portugal in support of the Spaniards. Sir Harry Burrard had scarcely assumed the command, when Sir Hugh Dalrymple arrived from Gibraltar to supersede him in his turn. He reached the camp on the morning of the 22nd. Sir Harry had been prevailed upon to prepare orders for an advance on the 23rd, and Sir Hugh does not appear to have annulled them ; but before they could be issued, General Kellerman came in with a flag of truce to propose an armistice preparatory to negociating a capitulation. The terms of the capitulation were ridiculously favourable to the enemy. They stipulated for the removal by sea of the French army, with its arms, ammunition, and artillery, to France, at the expense of Great Britain ; and for the retention by officers and men of every thing which they chose to claim as private property. The safety of the Russian fleet, which then lay in the Tagus, was likewise claimed, and its right to quit the river or to go where it would, asserted. Of the part which Sir Arthiu' played in the negociation of this treaty, and of the light in which he regarded it, both politically and professionally, a better idea will be formed by perusing the subjoined letter, than by any statements of ours. To Viscount Castlereagh. " Camp at Eamallial, 23rd Aug. 1808. " My dear Lord, " You 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 negociation of a Convention for the evacuation of Portugal by the French. Although my name is affixed to this instrument*, I beg that you Avill not believe that I negociated it, that I approve of it, * See Wellington Despatches, 1st edit. vol. vi. p. IIC. u 2 100 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1808. or that I had any hand in wording it. It was negociated by the General 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 onght to have been for forty-eight hours only. As it is now, the French will have forty-eight hours to prepare for their defence, after Sir Hugh will put an end to the suspension. " I approve of allowing the French to evacuate Portugal, more par- ticularly as it appears to be deemed impossible to move Sir John Moore's corps ripon 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 fi-ontier of Sj^ain, than to have the Frenchmen in Portiigal and the Englishmen employed in the blockade or siege of strong places. If they are to be allowed to eva- cuate it 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. " I see no objection to the substance of what is done respecting the Eussians ; indeed, if the Russians had persevered to the end of the con- test in the neutrality which they have observed since its commencement, and the Portuguese officers had desired that their port shoidd be re- spected as that of a power in a state of neutrality between Russia and England, we might have laboured imder some difficulties in the attack of the Russian fleet. But the French ought not to have been allowed to sti- pulate at all for the Russian fleet, and this is the great fault of the whole arrangement. However, bad as it is, it is fortunate that it is not worse ; and yoxi will readily believe that I did eveiything in my power to prevail upon the General to alter it and to persist in his objections to it. " I will not conceal from you, however, my dear Lord, that my situation in this army is a very delicate one. I never saw Sir Hugh Dalrymple till yesterday, and it is not a very easy task to advise any man on the first day one meets Avith him. He must at least be prepared to receive advice. Then I have been successful with the army, and they don't appear to me to like to go to any body else for orders or instructions upon any subject. This is another awkward circumstance which cannot end well ; and, to tell you the truth, I should prefer going home to staying here. However, if you wish me to stay, I will ; I only beg that you will not blame me if things do not go on as you and my friends in London wish they should. It appears that General Spencer and Sir Hugh did not agree very well when they were at Gibraltar together, and poor Spencer is very- low indeed. I wish that you would confer upon him some mark of the King's favour ; there never was a braver officer or one who deserves it better. 1808. CONVENTION OF CINTEA. 101 " I enclose you a metnoiandiim * Avliich I have sent to Sir Hngh i-espect- ing the Convention which he is to negociate in jjerson with Junot. Kel- lerman objected to my going to the Admiral through the French posts, as he had found that I objected so strongly to the arrangement ; and yet he was the person who first proposed to Sir Hugh that I should sign the arrangement which he was going to sign himself. " Ever, &c. " Arthur Welleslet. " Charles will have informed }'ou of the state of things here since the date of this letter. The Admiral relieved us from the difficulty in Avhich the seventh article of the agreement respecting the Russians had involved us by refusing to agi-ee to it ; and IMiirray w^as sent the day before yester- day to apprise Jimot of this refusal by the Admiral, and to negociate the Convention if Junot should be inclined to negociate upon the remaining part of the proposed basis, and at all events to bring the suspension of hostilities to a conclusion by 12 o'clock to-morrow. Junot has consented to negociate, and Murray is authorised to continue the suspension for twenty-four hours longer if necessary, in order to complete the treaty. In tlie mean time I march to-morrow if the Convention should not be con- cluded and hostilities should not be further suspended, and Sir John Moore with, a part of his corps the next day. Murray has been instructed to insist upon the points in the enclosed memorandum in the negociation of the Convention. Notwithstanding blunders, I think we shall yet bring our affairs in this country to a happy conclusion." In managing what is now known as the Convention of Cintra, Sir Arthur Wellesley had no concern. He was neither present with the commissioners when they signed the deed, nor Wcis he made acquainted with its details till after it had been formally ratified. At the request of Sir Hugh Dalrymple he did, indeed, affix his signature to the preliminary treaty, which Kellerman had pro- posed, though not without objecting to some of its details. But he was no party, nor, indeed, was it possible that he should be, to anything which followed. On the contrary, he studiously con- fined himself to the affairs of his own division, and followed what- ever instructions the commander of the forces conveyed to him. It was proposed, among other things, that he should go to Madrid, and arrange there some plan of operations with the authorities civil as well as military. He offered no opposition but contented himself with pointing out that the individual employed in so important a duty, could not hope to discharge it effectually, unless he were entrusted with extensive powers, and enjoyed the fvdl confidence of the home Government. Whether Sir Pluo-h Dalrymple w'as sincere in proposing to employ him may be * Sec Wellington Despatches, 1st edit. vol. iv. p. 120. H 3 102 MEMOIE OF THE DUXE OF WELLIXGTOX. 1808. doubted. Sir Arthur, however, took the precaution to seud copies of the correspondence to Lord Castlereagh, and the result was, that not he but Lord William Bentinck was sent to advise with the Junta of Castile. ^ But Sir Arthur Wellesley was not the only individual in the army, who felt and expressed dissatisfaction with the state into which matters had fallen. Everywhere, from generals commanding divisions down to private sentinels, there was a sense of morti- fication and well nigh of anger and even disgrace, which had the command rested where it then was, must have produced the worst conseqviences. Sir Hugh Dalrymple was personally very unpopular, for which his mode of maintaining discipline suf- ficiently accounted. He was habitually harsh, stern, and uncivil, both to officers and men. But over and above this, there were causes of offence of a graver character and more deeply seated. He had been thrust by court favour into the position which he held, after something like a specific promise given to Sir John Moore, that to him the command of the army should be in- trusted. This produced, as it was natural that it should, great indignation on the part of Moore's friends, and of disquiet to Moore himself, who had more than one confidential conference with Wellesley upon the subject, and seems to have been dis- suaded 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 Wellesley bestowed upon it. On one point, however, there was no difference of opinion. The victor of Rolissa and Vemiera was held in the greatest admiration and respect ; and of this a public manifestation was made as soon as it became known that Wellesley was about to quit the camp. The officers com- manding corps, and the field-officers of the army, agreed to present an address to Sir Arthur, with a request that he would accept at their hands a piece of plate. This was done on the 18th of September, through the medium of Colonel Kemmis, the oldest field-officer among them, and accepted by Sir Arthur with all the frankness which formed part of his nature. In two days afterwards, having led his 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. 1808. WELLESLEY llETUKNS HOME. 103 CHAP. VIII. WElIESLEr EST LONDON. — COURT OF ENQIIIRr. — KESUMES HIS IRISH DUTIES. — BRIEF RETROSPECT OF AFFAIRS IN SPAIN. — BATTLE OF COBUNNA, — AVELLESLEY APPOINTED TO COMMAND A NEW ARMY. Sir Arthur landed at Plymoutli on the 4tli of October, his depar- ture 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 Ire- land. He wrote immediately to the Duke of Richmond, who was still Lord Lieutenant, and announced his intention of presenting himself in Dublin without 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 stigmatised, not as impolitic only, but iniquitous ; and all who were believed to have taken any part in its management were denounced as traitors. Amono- others Sir Arthur Wellesley came in for no small share of blame. Dalrymple had managed to convey an impression, that it was entirely by Wellesley's advice that he had been guided in the matter, and Wellesley's signature attached to the preliminary treaty was accepted, by the newspapers and the people, as conclusive testi- mony to the truth of the statement. One word from Wellesley 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 he did not hesitate in his pri- vate correspondence to assign his reasons for so doing. We sub- join here specimens of the temper in which this correspondence was carried on. To the Dulce of Richmond. "London, 10th Oct. 1808. " My DEAR Duke, " You Avill readily believe that I Avas much surprised when I ar- rived in England to hear the torrents of abuse with which I had been H 4 104 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1808. assailed, and that I had been accused of CA'ery crime of wliich a man can be guilty, excepting coAvardice. I have not read one word that has been written on either side, and I have refused to publish and don't mean to authorise the publication of a single line in my defence. I think, hoAvever, that the King and his ministers and my fi-iends have a right to an explanation of the cause for which my name appeared to the annistice of the 22nd of August,' as I have already told you in a former letter wi-itten from Portugal, in Avhich I entered into the details of what passed on that occasion, and stated generally my motives for signing that instrument. " I think that Sir H. Dalrymple's letter of the 3rd of September has, by fixing uj^on me by a piirposed inaccuracy of expression, the odium of negociating that instrument, enabled me to explain the share I had in it to the King's ministers and to the King. " I enclose a copy of the letter * Avhich I have written to the Secretary of State upon this subject, in which you will see that not only I have explamed this point, but I have thought it but just and fair to Sir H. Dalrymple to avoAV, that I Avas of opinion that the French ought to be alloAved to evacuate Portugal, and my reasons for entertaining that 02:)iuion on the evening of the 22nd of August. This is the AAdiole amount of Avhat I shall do in my defence at present ; the rest I shall leaA'e to chance, and to the result of the inquiiy into Sir H. Dalrymple's conduct. " I propose, hoAvever, if I should have time, to write you a narrative of the whole campaign, stating the measures Avhich I had adopted and the principles on Avhich I had adoj^ted them, hoAv for they were carried into execution, and the consequences Avhich resulted from a departui'e from them on the arrival of the officers Avho relieved me. " I shall be obhged to you if you Avill show the enclosed paper, in confidence, and not on any account to be copied or printed, to the Chan- cellor, Attorney and Solicitor-General, Lord Edward, and any friends of mine in Ireland. " I hope to be able to go to you in a few days. " Beheve me, &c. " Arthur Wellesley. " P.S. Pray remember me most kindly to the Duchess and Lady Mary, and give my love to Louise and Charlotte." To the Marquis of BucTcingham. "London, 11th Oct. 1808. " My dear Lord, " I assure you that I am most sensible of the friendship and kind- ness of Lord Temple and yourself, of Avhich I hope to prove myself worthy. My situation is a very awkward one, and I can relieve myself fr-om it only by the result of an inquiry. * See letter to Lord Castlereagh, dated Gth Oct. 1808, in Wellington Despatchee, 1st edit. vol. iv. p. 161. 1808. LETTER TO THE MARQUESS OF BUCKINGHAM. 105 " I am accused of being the adviser of persons over wliom I had no control and who refused to follow my advice, and am made responsible for the acts of others. The real share which I have had in the tran- sactions, — which, in my opinion, have deservedly incvu-red the displea- sure of the public, — cannot be known till they will be inquired into ; and in the meantime Sir Hugh Dalrymple has left the Government 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 imdeserved abuse which has been heaped upon me has not altered the latter. " In resj^ect to the conduct of my case, I have determined that I will pubhsh nothing, nor will authorise the publication of anything by others. This forbearance is particularly incumbent ujoon 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 previously to the 22ud of August, notwithstanding that difference of opinion and the alteration of system were the cause of the military expediency of allowing the French to Avithdraw from Portugal. I am afraid that I shall experience some difficulty in carrying this intention into execution, because the truth must come out ; but I will endeavour not to bring others (viz. Sir Harry Burrard) into a scrape, not only 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 deter- mined to stand singly. There is nothing in common between Sir Hugh Dalrymple and me, or between the Government and me, if the Govern- ment are supposed to be involved in the question, and I shall act ac- cordingly. " I now enclose your Lordship the copy of a letter, &c. &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 which he was held by the army in Portugal. The following letter to Sir John sufficiently explains the result of the interview : — To Lieut. -General Sir John Moore, K.B. "London, 8th Oct. 1808. " My dear General, " I arrived in London on Thursday, and I yesterday took an op- portunity 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 108 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1808. 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 jou 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 that he had never entertained any doubt upon this subject ; and that after he had communicated to you the sentiments of the King's Government upon 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 Coruna immediately, where I hope to find you. " You'll have seen by the newspapers that the late transactions in Por- tugal have made a stronger sensation here than it was imagined they would, and I have had what I think more than my share of the blame. I suppose that there must be an inqiiiry into the transactions ; and till that takes place, I shall leave the public to find out the truth in the best way they can, and shall not adopt any illegitimate mode of setting them right. In the meantime the abuse of the news writers of London will not deprive me of my temper or my spirits, or of the zeal with which I will forward every wish of yoiu's. " Ever, &c. " Arthur Welleslet. " Since writing the above I find that it will be necessary that I should wait in England till Sir Hugh Dairy niple will return, and it will be knoAvn at what time the inquiry will be made into the late transactions in Por- tugal 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 Coruna." 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 he elevated. The following shows that he had not forgotten another officer, to whose merits he more than once testified. It conveys besides, such a true picture of the entire disinterestedness of the writer, that we cannot refuse to give it a place in these pages. To Viscount Castlereagh. "London, 14tli Not. 1808. "My dear Castlereagh, " After I saw you on Saturday I spoke to Colonel Gordon, and lie agi-eed entirely in opinion with me, that it was expedient to recommend 1808. LETTER TO LOED CASTLEREAGH. 107 General Spencer to the King at an early period for some mark of his Majesty'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 Middlesex 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 Avriters and the orators of the day are deter- mined to listen to nothing in my ji:stitication. I am, therefore, qiute certain that the Government 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 turnis 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 conduct 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 himself will urge them not to think of him if the King's favour cannot be extended to me, and thus he will lose what he so well deserves. I am convinced that this will be the result of any further delay. " I wish, therefore, that you would immediately recommend 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 tliat I am in a situation to receive any mark of his Majesty's favour. " I wish you would turn this subject over in yovu" mind, and you will discover that great difficulties will be avoided by adoj^ting immediately the measure which I most earnestly recommend. " Believe me, &c., " Arthur Welleslet. " P.S. It is said that Spencer would not like to accept any mark of the King's favour at present, but I am convinced that I shall be able to pre- vail with him." Having brought his affairs to this point, Sir Arthur departed for Ireland, where, indifferent to the wrong which was done him by the English people, he resumed the course of his civil dutie,'-'. There he remained till the beoinning of November when the assembling at Chelsea Hospital of the Court appointed to inquire 108 MEMOIE OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1808. into the circumstances of the late campaign, and of the convention in which it resulted recalled him to London. In common with Sir Hugh Dalrymple 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 before hand. Wellesley, still treat- ing with the utmost possible delicacy officers 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 pro- ceedings in the case were not necessary. Absurd as the decision was Wellesley made no protest against it ; but went back to Ireland, and busied himself as before in such affairs as came usually under the cognizance of chief secretaries in those days of Protestant ascendancy and government by influence. Wliile he is thus engaged it may be well, with a view to a right understanding of much that is to follow, if we take a rapid survey of the principal events which befel in the Peninsular nations, during the interval between his departure from the Tagus, and the meeting of Parliament in January 1809. By the removal of Dalrymple and Burrard the command of the English army in Portugal devolved upon Lieutenant-General Sir John Moore. The bulk of the French force, about 60,000 strong, were then concentrated on the south side of the Ebro. Portugal was entirely cleared of them, and in Spain they were threatened by 105,000 regular troops, besides as many irregulars and armed peasants, divided into five separate corps. Castaiios's army, rendered giddy by its success at Baylen, formed the right of a long line, and skirted the Ebfo from Lograno to Calahorra. It consisted of about 20,000 men. In the centre, with its head- quarters at Burgos, was the army of Estremadura, 12,000 strong; on the left Blake, with 45,000 men, composing the combined armies of Grallicia and Asturias. He had passed Bilbao, and was marching upon Mondragon, with a view to turn Vittoria. In second line on the left bank of the Arragon, Palafax, with 18,000 men, the army of Andalusia, had taken post; and 10,000, a corps of re- serve, was directed to establish itself in front of Madrid. Mean- while Mr. Stuart, the representative of England, was labouring to establish some central government, which might override the influence of the provincial juntas, always jealous one of the other; and at last the Junta of Seville assumed to itself the title of Su- 1808. MOORE S ADVANCE INTO SPAIN. 109 prema Junta. But its authority was by no means acknowledged to an extent coincident with the pretensions which it put forth. In Portugal likewise strenuous efforts were made to bring order out of confusion. The juntas were dissolved, and a regency formed out of the persons named before his departure by the king ; which, if not very manageable, proved at least more open to persuasion than their predecessors, though both the Bishop of Oporto, and the brothers Souza were members of it. The instructions conveyed to Sir John Moore required him to advance as soon as possible to the support of the Spaniards, leaving 5000 men under General Craddock for the protection of Portugal. Pie was to keep open his communications with that country, unless compelled by circumstances to adopt another course. His force, including a corps which was to join him from the coast of Gallicia, was set down at 30,000 men. It was intimated to him that in Madrid he would best be able to concert a plan of campaign with the Spanish generals ; and that Madrid was, therefore, the point on which his movement should be directed. Sir John Moore did not receive these instructions till the 6th of October. He had then to collect and organise his means of trans- port ; nor was it through any lack of energy or skill on his part that the 21st arrived ere he was in a condition to move. But besides that the season was too far gone to give much hope of any immediate or very brilliant results, circumstances were already changed at the theatre of war, greatly to the disfavour of the Spaniards. The 60,000 French troops on the farther side of the Ebro had been increased to 150,000, and more were on the march in the same du-ection ; while Napoleon himself, relieved of anxiety on the side of Eussia, was preparing to put himself at their head. When Moore began his march, he was distant about 600 miles from the enemy. The country through which he had to pass was poor ; and there was no disposition among its inhabitants to put themselves to inconvenience in order to keep his troops supplied. If the roads had all been excellent, which they were not, and his means of transport abundant, he might have reached the nearest Spanish corps, assuming all to have remained quiet, in 25 or 30 days. This would have been good marching. But besides that the roads were execrable and the means of transport defective, JMoore was obliged to follow a circuitous route, in order to form a j unction with Baird's division, which landing at Corunna had been directed to meet him near Valladolid. Moore committed the mistake, moreover, of dividing his own force, and sending his artillery and cavalry, with 3000 infantry, round by Talavera, while he himself marched by Ciudad Kodrigo on Salamanca. The consequence was that while no MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1808. the three British corps were as yet engaged in mere movements of concentration, the Spanish army which they came to support had ceased to exist. On the 10th of November Marshal Soult ad- vanced at the head of one corps, and failing upon the army of Estremadura on the Arlanzon, totally dispersed it. He took pos- session, the same day, of the city and castle of Burgos, and moving otf in the direction of Eeinosa, endeavoured to throw himself on Blake's rear, and to cut off his retreat. Meanwhile Victor had at- tacked Blake at Espinoza and overwhelmed him, almost at the same time that Marshal Lannes marched towards Tudela in search of Castafios and Palafox. Lannes came up with the Spaniards on the 23rcl, and overthrew them before they could find time to settle their order of battle. This last defeat would have been much more conclusive had Ney operated with greater vigour in support of Lannes ; but alarmed by some exaggerated reports of Castaiios's strength, he halted at Soria, thereby enabling Castanos, whose corps had suffered less than that of Palafox, to escape by the road which passes Calatayud, and to shelter himself among the mountains. These preliminary operations having been effected. Napoleon himself appeared upon the stage, and, pushing on from Vittoria to Burgos, arrived at Bocequillas at the foot of the Gruadarrama range. On the 29th he reconnoitred the Somo Sierra Pass, in the gorge of which the wreck of the army of Estremadura with the Anda- lusian garrison of Madrid was posted ; and on the following day, by a brilliant charge of cavalry, he swept them away. There was nothing now to interrupt his advance to Madrid ; before the gates of which, at the head of the main body of his army, he appeared on the 2nd of December ; and on the morning of the 4th the city, after a feeble show of resistance, surrendered at discretion. All this while Moore, entirely uninformed of what had oc- curred in his front, was toiling onwards. He had scarcely re- united Hope's division, however, to his own, ere intelligence of the overthrow of the Spanish armies reached him, when there seemed for him no other choice than either a hasty retreat upon Lisbon, or a complete change in the base of his operations. He preferred the latter, and, loosening his hold upon Portugal, he directed Baird to march upon Astorga, where he proposed to join him, thus adopting Corunna as his line of retreat. It is not neces- sary to give in detail any account of the operations which followed. After a vain endeavour to strike at Soult and a brilliant affair of cavalry at Sagahun, Moore began that retrogressive movement which ended in the battle of Corunna, in his own death, and the re-embarkation of the army under Hope. Thus the last hope of deliverance for the Peninsula seemed to so out. Not one native 1809. WELLES LEYS MEMOEANDUM. Ill army deserving the name kept the field. All the strong places in the north and south of Spain fell into the enemy's hands. Madrid had become again the residence of the intrusive king; and 330,000 excellent French troops, exclusive of reserves, were poured across the Pyrenees, to complete and consolidate the con- quests thus begun. The battle of Corunna was fought on the 16th of December, 1808: on the 27tli of January, 1809, both Houses of Parliament passed votes of thanks to Sir Arthur Wellesley and to the army which had served under his orders in the Vemiera campaign. This was a relief to Sir Arthur's mind, mainly because it secured for General Spencer the honours and rewards for which he had been recommended, and which, in spite of Sir Arthur's generous ser- vices, had hitherto been withheld. But more important matters were impending. The result of Moore's expedition, while it convinced the English Grovernment that little reliance could be placed on the enthusiasm of undisciplined mobs, by no means induced them to retire from the contest. On the contrary, as Austria was once more in arms, and Napoleon liad gone off to measure his strength with hers, it v/as resolved to make another effort in sup- port of the Peninsvilar nations ; and a treaty of alliance offensive and defensive being signed, an application was preferred by Lord Castle- reagh for leave to make of Cadiz a base of operations for the English army. Spanish jealousy prevailed over every other con- sideration. The Junta of Seville refused to admit an English garrison into Cadiz ; and Wellesley, who had all along advocated a different line of policy, had the satisfaction to find that his views were in consequence adopted. So early as the 7th of March, Wellesley had drawn up and given to Lord Castlereagh a brief but clear memorandum of the measures which, circumstanced as Europe then was, he considered it best for England to adopt. The paper in question begins with these memorable words : " I have always been of opinion that Portugal might be defended whatever might have been the result of the contest in Spain, and that, in the meantime, the measures adopted for the defence of Portugal would be highly useful to the Spaniards in their contest with the French." The writer then goes on to explain how Portugal could most easih' be placed in a defensible condition ; how, by a comparatively trifling outlay of money, it might be rendered a sort of recruiting ground for Eng- land ; and how an English army of 30,000 men, including 4000 or 5000 cavalry, might become a nucleus round which the native levies could gather, and under the protection of which they might, with English officers to instruct them, become capable in the end 112 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OP WELLINGTON. 1809. of facing the best troops on the Continent. The view which he took of the whole case was indeed as large as it was clear. He expressed a belief that Napoleon's political system, being one of terror merely, would soon fall to pieces if it were once effectually checked ; and that in Portugal, with its docile population and its feeble government, England would find the very best possible field on which to offer to it the best possible resistance. How entirely right he was in all these anticipations the progress of a few years sufficed to show. Yet it may be doubted whether at the moment there were in England or anywhere else three men besides himself who reposed the smallest faith in his prophecies, or could understand the process of reasoning by which he arrived at his conclusions. The memorandum in question was felt to be a very able paper, and the Cabinet, without subscribing to all the statements con- tained in it, determined to give the writer a chance of verifying his own assumptions. They provided for General Craddock by transferring him to Gribraltar, and offered the command of the British army in Portugal to Sir Arthur Wellesley. Curiously enough, he had been offered, just before, the command of the Portu- guese army by the Portuguese minister in London. This he declined, recommending, however, that Major-Greneral Beresford, an officer of great esperience and well acquainted with the Peninsular lan- fifuao-es, should undertake the trust. But the command of the British army carrying with it, as it necessarily did, a general con- trol over the military resources of both states, he accepted readily. And now, foreseeing that it was no longer a desultory expedition to which he was called, but the management of a war which, end as it might, could not fail to be both arduous and protracted, he relieved himself from embarrassments in other quarters by re- signing simultaneously his seat in Parliament and the chief secre- taryship of Ireland. From that hour his thoughts were mainly directed to the great work before him. He took a clear survey of his o"wn probable position, and applied in writing for everything which he considered necessary under the circumstances. In doing so no needful article, from a battalion of infantry down to a pair of shoes, was forgotten. Stands of arms, suits of clothing, sets of accoutrements for the Portuguese levies, horses, guns, muskets, ammunition, intrenching tools, horse-shoes, nails, hammers, all were distinctly specified. If either at the outset or at any subse- quent stage in the campaign 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 1«09. HE TEEPARES TO RETUEN TO PORTUGAL. 113 before they occurred, forms one of the most remarkable features in the character of the great Duke of Wellington 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 any other mind 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 affairs, now with inventors on the subject of their inventions, now with the President of the Board of Control upon Indian subjects, and largely with his private friends and agents about the common gossip and business of life. In some of these letters there is an elasticity and even jDlayfulness of tone which shows that, however grave the responsi- bility which he was about to assume, it by no means weighed him down. And this is the more remarkable that the condition of Portugal, political as well as military, was at that time as little promising as can well be conceived. The departure of the French had left the country without a government at all. Army there was none, in a 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 the officers as they walked the streets. There is no knowing to what extent this feel- ing might have been carried, had not Greneral Craddock threatened to withdraw his troops altogether. This brought men a little to their senses ; the Eegency began to act again, the 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 amounting to barely 8000, that Sir Arthur Wellesley made ready to proceed ; nowise distrustful that, if a little time were afforded him, he should be able to make successful head against the whole strength of the French Empire. 114 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1809. CHAP. IX. CONDITION OF THE HOSTILE AEMIES. — WELIESLET ADVANCES UPON OPOETO. — PASSAGE OF THE DOUEO, — MARCHES AGAINST VICTOR. — BATTLE OF TALAVEKA. Sir Arthur embarked at Portsmouth on the 16th of April, 1809, and after a tempestuous voyage entered the Tagus on the 22nd. His arrival operated like a charm upon all parties. The inha- bitants of Lisbon received him with transports of joy, and the members of the Government placed themselves and the resources of the country at his disposal. They had indeed their own ideas as to how the war ought to be conducted, and were anxious above all things to transfer it from Portugal to Spain ; but on this head, Wellesley showed himself immovable. He had formed his own plans after mature deliberation, and refused in any degree to modify them. What these were will be best understood, if, before entering upon a narrative of the campaign of 1809, we take a rapid survey of the relative positions of the belligerents just before it opened. It will not be forgotten that Napoleon, after following Sir John Moore as far as the Carrion, gave up the command of the army to Marshal Soult. He himself returned to Paris that he might prepare for the Austrian war which had now become inevitable. But his successes in the campaign of Somo Sierra had been so complete, that he counted on little further opposition from the Spaniards, while the re-embarkation of the English after the battle of Corunna led him to conclude, that for a, time at least, they would hold aloof from active operations on the Continent. His instructions to Soult therefore were, that he should march straight from Corunna upon Lisbon, make himself master of that city, and avenge the disaster of Vemiera ; while the other French generals should pacify the provinces already conquered, and disperse entirely the fragments of the Spanish armies. Meanwhile in order to facilitate Soult's progress, Lapisse was to proceed with his division from Salamanca to Abrantes, and to wait there till Victor should send for him. For Victor was to co-operate with Soult through 1809. SOULT MOVES ON BRAGA. 115 Estremadura ; after which, when the English should have been forced to re-embark, he was to double back upon Seville, and to break up the Grovernment of the Central Junta. The instructions necessary for carrying these plans into effect were given in the clearest manner ; indeed to such an extent of minuteness that the very day, the 5th of February, was named, when Soult, in the exe- cution of his part of the drama, ought to be in possession of Oporto. It is one thing to draw out on paper the sketch of a campaign, it is quite another to conduct the campaign itself to a successful issue. If the only obstacles opposed to Soult, had been the mili- tary resistance which the allies were in a condition to offer, the chances are that he would have been in Lisbon before the English Grovernment had time to mature its plans. The English force under Craddock, amounted after Moore's de- parture to scarce 6000 men, a considerable proportion of whom were fit for garrison duty only. The Portuguese levies were still entirely without organisation, comparatively few of them being as yet armed with firelocks. But Soult, besides that his own men were worn down by the rapid pursuit of Moore, found himself without supplies in the heart of a country everywhere hostile. It was the depth of winter also, when the roads, at all seasons bad become well nigh impassable in Grallicia for wheeled carriages. Instead of reaching Ojiorto, therefore, on the 5th of February, it was the 15th before he was in a condition to attempt the passage of the Mincio ; and the attempt being defeated by a sudden rise of the river, he was compelled to turn off from Campo Saco, in the direction of Orenze, with a view to penetrate through the pro- vince of Tras-os Montes into Portugal. But here he found him- self as it were in a hornet's nest. The peasantry, stirred up by straggling parties from Romano's force, were all in arms : they hung upon his flanks and rear, and cut off his stragglers, so that in order to save his own communications and to prevent the insur- rection from spreading, he found it necessary to halt for several days, and to act vigorously against the insurgents. The 4 th of March had thus arrived ere he could cross the frontier, and even then, in consequence of the failure of forage, and its inevitable result, a great mortality among his horses, he was constrained to leave at Tuy, under a sufficient guard, most of his baggage and all his reserve artillery. The road to Chaves was occupied at this time by the remains of Romano's army and by Silviero's Portuguese. They threatened from that position the flank of Soult's line of march, and he turned upon them and drove them away. On the 13th he was in Chaves itself, and on the 20th he defeated, about half a league from Braga, 118 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1809. 35,000 undisciplined Portuguese, armed cliiefly with pikes. On the 28th he appeared before Oporto, which the Bishop had covered with a chain of redoubts, unskilfully constructed, but defended by 40,000 men, and 200 pieces of cannon. The men proved to be a mere rabble and gave way at the first shock ; whereupon 26,000 French troops entered the town, and exasperated by finding that some of their countrymen had been ill-treated hj the mob, they took such a terrible revenge, as excited against them the undying animosity of the whole Portuguese nation. So far, the plan sketched out by Napoleon advanced towards completion. Its progress was however slow, even in this direction, and elsewhere, delays less easy to be accounted for, occurred to defeat its object altogether. After waiting at Talavera de la Eeyna till the 14th of March, Victor threw a division across the Tagus, and established a flying bridge at Almiraz, by which on the 20th his whole army crossed. Had he then taken upon himself the responsibilit}^ of marching direct to Merida, Cuesta, with his ill- organised corps must have fled into the Sierra Morena, while Badajos, which was destitute of supplies of every kind, would have probably fallen into his hands. But the Emperor's orders were peremptory, and Cuesta retreating upon Villa Nueva de Serena, was joined there on the 27th by Alburquerque's division. And now the Spaniard assumed the offensive. He advanced as far as Medellan, hesitated, halted, and on the 28th was attacked, and totally defeated by Victor. The relative strength of the armies engaged seems to have been of Spaniards, 25,000 infantry, 400 cavalry, and 20 pieces of cannon ; of French, 14,000 infantry, 2500 cavalry, and 42 guns. While these things were going on Sebastiani, at Ciudad Eeal, fell upon 12,000 Spaniards under Castajah, and overthrew them. The way was thus opened for Lapisse to perform his part, by marching upon Abrantes, whence he would be in a condition to support simultaneously both Soult and Victor. But either mistaking his instructions or misled by further orders from Madrid, he took the direct road to Merida, where he united himself with Victor's force. So wide a gap was thus introduced between the two corps, that each might fairly be considered in reference to an enemy operating from Lisbon, as for the moment isolated. Yet the isolation ought not to have been permanent. Had Victor taken it upon him to move through the Alentejo upon Abrantes, he must have risked, no doubt, a partial change in the Emperor's plan ; but the effect of such change would have probably been to avert from Soult the calamity with which he was not long afterwards overtaken. Napier, and almost all the French writers, throw the entire blame of these 1809. STATE OF TORTUGAL. 117 miscarriages upon King Joseph. They say that he had become alarmed by the threat of fresh risings in the north, the fruits of the Austrian war, and by the interruption thereby occasioned to the march of French troops across the Pyrenees ; and that in order to maintain his hold upon Madrid, he sent Lapisse to Merida, and directed Victor to halt there till further orders. But this is not quite fair. Whatever blame might attach to Joseph in regard to Lapisse's movement, the protracted stay of Victor at Merida was the result of positive instructions from the Emperor himself. That these laboured under the disadvantage of being subordinate to eventualities, which were never realised, is indeed most true ; but they demanded and obtained prompt obedience, because neither in Joseph nor in his advisers was there power or genius enough to modify according to contingencies the orders of their master. And so it came to pass that the necessity to which the Emperor re- duced himself of conducting the Spanish war from a distance, proved to be one of the principal causes of the miscarriage of all his plans. We have spoken elsewhere of the state of anarchy into which Portugal fell after the results of Sir John Moore's campaign became known. General Craddock had indeed succeeded in esta- blishing something like order before Wellesley re-appeared upon the stage. A government existed, such as it was, and Beresford, assisted by a few English officers, laboured to infuse a military spirit into the Portuguese army. But it was the arrival of Wel- lesley in Lisbon that awakened the enthusiasm of the people, and he was not slow in proving that the confidence which they were willing to repose in him was well placed. Having accepted the chief command of their troops, he disposed of them where they might render most effectual service to the common cause. He examined next with a searching eye, the position of the enemy, and found it to be critical in the extremQ, Soult in one direction, and Victor in another, were open to be attacked in detail before the one could find time to come to the support of the other. Had he considered the question in a purely military point of view, he would have doubtless fallen upon Victor in the first instance. To this, indeed, two considerations urged him : first, that Victor was in greater strength than Soult, and next that the only obstacle be- tween Victor and Lisbon was the Tagus, fordable in many places, and at almost all seasons of the year. But on the present, as on many other occasions, political considerations weighed with Wel- lesley as much as any others. By the occupation of Oporto, the French had cut off the English from the great source of their sup- plies in cattle. They were supported likewise by a party in the I 3 118 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1809. province of Entre Minho, which it was of great importance to break up. For these reasons Wellesley determined to begin with Soult ; and he made his dispositions to deliver the blow with as much of prudence as of celerity. As soon as the reinforcements from England arrived and Gfeneral Craddock had formally resigned the command, Wellesley took measures to observe Victor, employing on that service such an amount of force as would be sufficient to delay, if it could not entirely stop his advance to the Tagiis. He next directed the main body of the combined armies to assemble at Coimbra. The total strength of the corps thus brought together was 13,000 Eng- lish, 3000 German, and 9000 Portuguese, the latter in a tolerable state of efficiency. Strange to say, this concentration was effected, not only without alarming Soult, but without any report of what was in progress having been communicated to him. He lay with 20,000 men in loose order, between the Vouga and the Tamega, the Lima and the Douro ; the extremities of his line communi- cating only by a bridge of boats upon the latter stream. And, if we may believe Napoleon and Marshal Jourdain, he wasted precious time in attempts at civil administration which would have been much more usefully employed in informing himself of the enemy's movements. But this was not all. A spirit of discontent sprang up during that interval in his army, which was fostered by certain officers, educated in the old Eepublican school, and still attached to its principles. Of these, a Colonel d'Argenton appears to have been the chief, and so far was the matter carried, that d'Argenton entered into communication with Wellesley, with a view, as he stated, of delivering Soult into the hands of the English on condition that the French army should be allowed to retire unmolested from the country. It was character- istic of Wellesley, that he refused to connect himself, in any manner, with an act of treason. He listened to all that the con- spirators chose to say, but declined to interrupt for a moment the progress of his own arrangements. Wellesley arrived at Coimbra on the 2nd of May, and on the 4th distributed his little army into eight brigades of infantry, and one of cavalry. The cavalry, consisting of four weak regiments, was placed under the orders of Major-Greneral Cotton. Of artillery he had thirty pieces in the field, six of them light 3-pounders, the re- mainder 6's. He made arrangements to move the whole in two columns. Beresford with two English battalions, and 6000 Por- tuguese infantry, having attached to him five companies of rifle- men, a squadron of cavalry, and six guns, was to march by Viesieu, upon Lamego. There he was to cross the Douro. After which. 1809. THE AEMY ADVANCES. 119 picking up Silveira, he was to push forward to Villa Real, and to envelope the enemy's left. As soon as this operation was well in progress, Wellesley was to advance upon Oporto by the great road which runs between Vouga and Aveiro. The river, in breadth about 300 yards, w^ould still be between him and the town, but he calculated that Beresford would be in a condition to send down boats enough from Lamego to enable him as soon as he touched the nearer bank, to force a passage. On the 4th, however, in- telligence arrived that Silveira had been driven from Amarante the previous day, and that the enemy were already making prepara- tions to evacuate Oporto. It became necessary, therefore, to mo- dify the above arrangements, so that Beresford might not be ex- posed with his Portuguese to an unequal struggle with the whole French army. Accordingly the two columns became three. Beresford leading, as was first proposed, was directed to keep one march ahead. At an interval of 24 hours Hill was to move with a second column upon Aveiro, while Wellesley with the third, was to march upon Vouga. In consequence of these arrangements, Beresford quitted Coimbra at daybreak on the 6th, and on the 7th the columns of Hill and Wellesley were likewise in motion. The first intimation received by Soult of the danger which im- pended, came in on the evening of the 10th. Wellesley's column passed the Vouga early in the morning of that day, and endea- vovired to surprise some villages eight miles beyond, where four re- giments of French cavalry, and a battalion of infantry, with guns, were cantonned. In this the English failed, but they di-ove the enemy before them, took three guns, and halted for the night at Oliveira. Next day the advance was resumed. Hill moving by a parallel road, which he gained on the night of the 9th, by crossing the lake to Ovar ; and about noon the skirmishers encountered the enemy's outposts, which they immediately attacked and drove in. By and by a considerable body of French troops, comprising about 4000 infantry and a squadron of horse, were seen in position on the high ground above Griejo, having their front covered with woods and broken ground. Some riflemen, supported by light infantry, engaged their attention, while both flanks were turned ; the right by Greneral Murray, with the Grerman legion, the left by the Portuguese infantry. The enemy stood their ground gallantly for a brief space, but perceiving their danger, began to retire, whereupon two squadrons of the 16th and 20th Light Dragoons, fell upon them, and converted the retreat into a flight. That night they crossed the Douro, and removed the bridge of boats after them. The removal of the bridge, and an order to secure every boat I 4 120 MEMOIE OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON". 1809. and barge on the river, appear to have placed Soult at his ease. A little jealousy continued to be entertained of the sea-board, of which he knew that the English were masters, but he anticipated no danger from any other quarter, and went forward deliberately with his preparations for a march upon Braga, which he had settled against the 12th. Unfortunately for him, however, Loison's corps, which had seized the bridge at Amarante on the 3rd, proved less resolute in defending, than they had shown themselves in achieving their conquest. Threatened on the 11th by Beresford, they fell back without firing a shot, and thus gave up the only road by which through the hilly country, guns and other wheeled carriages could travel. It was a misfortune which ought to have roused Soult to immediate action, and Wellesley perfectly under- stood this, for he wrote the same day to Beresford, warning him to be upon his guard, and assuring him of support. Nor was he slow to perform his promise. At early dawn on the 12th, General Murray, with a battalion of infantry, a squadron of cavalry, and two guns, moved four miles up the stream towards Avintas, for the purpose of collecting boats, and if possible crossing there ; while Wellesley, with his own and Hill's columns, pushed forward till only the Douro, about 300 yards in width, interposed between him and Oporto. The bank of the stream on which Wellesley halted, was very favourable to him in a military point of view. Gfenerally elevated, it afforded shelter to his men, while a lofty eminence called the Serra, on the outskirts of the village of Nova Villa, dominated over the opposite side, and gave him complete command of it. Wellesley observed close to the margin of the stream, a building called the Seminary, which with its enclosure, seemed large enough to contain a whole battalion ; and he further noticed to his great satisfaction, that it was not occupied. There he determined to effect his first lodgment, which if the means of crossing had been at hand, would have proved easy enough ; for a bend in the river, as it approached the Seminary, withdrew it from the view of the city, and there were neither sentries nor videttes along its course. But means to cross were wanting. He had no materials of any kind, — pontoons or stages, — with which to establish a bridge, and the enemy had effectually cleared the river of its small craft. Nothing daunted however, he sent off scouts in every direction to look for boats, and in the meanwhile placed twenty pieces of cannon in battery on the top of the Serra. These were scarcely arranged, ere to his extreme satisfaction, he saw a solitary punt emerge from some tall reeds just under cover of the hill. Colonel Waters, a staff officer of great enterprise and courage, had discovered it there sunk in 1809 THE SEMINARY OCCUPIED. ]21 the mud, and with the help of four peasants, and the Prior of the convent of Amarante, had raised and cleared it. And now these six men were paddling themselves across the broad river, and making for a point were several larger barges were lying high and dry on the opposite shore. No hostile eye beheld them ; they gained the shore, launched the barges, made them fast to their own boat, and returned. Immediately the operation of crossing the river began. Three barges, each capable of containing twenty-five men, were thus placed at Wellesley's disposal. He filled them and they pushed off. The first reached its destination unobserved, and the Semi- nary was occupied. The second fared in like manner, but the third, in which Greneral Paget had taken his passage, attracted the enemy's attention. So fully impressed, however, was Soult and his staff with the belief that the English, if they attacked at all, would attack from the sea, that they paid no regard to the report when brought to them ; nor was it till Greneral Foy, ascending a height which faced the Convent, saw that it was filled with British troops, that the truth seemed to break upon them. Having discovered his mistake, Soult made every effort to atone for it. Bodies of tirailleurs threw themselves upon the menaced point, and columns were formed to support them. But the fire from the English guns on the Serra, fell so fast and heavily upon every avenue of approach, that whole sections were cut down while pressing onwards. Meanwhile, the townspeople rushed to the river side, unloosed other boats, and pulled across to Villa Nova. There Sherbrooke's brigade instantly embarked, and while Paget was bravely defending himself in the Seminary, it fell ujjon the enemy's rear, and threw them into confusion. Meanwhile Mur- ray made good his passage at Aventas, and pushed on with a view to head, if it were possible, the French army in its retreat. For by this time, all was confusion and dismay in Oporto. Taken by surprise, the enemy abandoned guns, caissons, and sick, and moved as rapidly as they could towards Amarante, only to learn, when too late, that the place was in Beresford's possession, and that except over mountain tracts, where horses could scarcely keep their foot- ing, every avenue to escape was barred against them. The interval which Murray was obliged to cross, or the pace at which he travelled, prevented him from either heading the French on their line of march or falling upon their flank. He came up, however, with their rear and found it already engaged with some squadrons which Wellesley had sent in pursuit. But the pursuit was not very vigorously pressed. The truth is that Wellesley had outmarched both his supplies and his baggage, and that of his 122 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1809. artillery not a gun had as yet been brought across the river. Partly in order to give time for these to come up, partly be- cause at such a crisis he felt that the slightest check would more than counterbalance the political advantages just achieved, he halted the main body of his force in Oporto and recalled the pur- suing squadrons as soon as the night began to close in. It was for Soult a very fortunate arrangement. His army, panic-struck and disorganised, was in no condition to offer a stout resistance had it been seriously attacked ; and it lost all heart when, arriving after dark at Belthar, information was received that Beresford had taken possession of Amarante. The French general had thus to choose between two courses, both of them perilous and difficult. He might either retrace his steps towards Oporto, with a view to gain the road by Braga to Tuy, running at the same time the risk of total destruction from the English ; or he might abandon his guns, baggage, and stores, and escape across the mountains to Orense. With excellent judgment he adopted the latter alter- native, preserving thereby 18,000 good troops for future service. But he did not effect his purpose without considerable hazard and great suffering. At an early hour on the 13th the English light troops resumed the pursuit, and on the 15th Wellesley himself entered Braga a few hours only after Soult had withdrawn from it. From that time till the 19th, the chase was close and in- cessant, and in several affairs between the advanced guard of the English and the rear guard of the French the latter suffered severely. But, as Wellesley himself observes in a letter to Lord Castlereagh, " if an army throws away all its cannon, equipments, and baggage, and everything which can strengthen it, and enable it to act together as a body, and abandons all those who are en- titled to its protection, but add to its weight and impede its pro- gress, — it must be able to march through roads by which it cannot be followed, with any prospect of being overtaken, by an army which has not made the same sacrifices." Hence having learned that Victor was in motion, and that a detachment from his corps had seized the bridge of Alcantara, Wellesley on the 19th desisted from farther pursuit of Soult, and tui'ned his face towards the Tagus, with a view first to clear the bridge of Alcan- tara, and then to carry into effect the second j^art of his origiaal plan by compelling Victor, with or without a battle, to withdraw from the frontiers of Portugal. The campaign of the Douro lasted just twenty-eight days, and its results proved eminently glorious to Wellesley. In that interval he traversed seventy leagues of mountain country, was successful in several affairs of posts, had accomplished in a 1809. KESULTS OF THE CAMPAIGN. ]23 brilliant manner the passage of the Douro, and driven the enemy- back, disorganised and broken, through the mountains of Trasos Montes and Gallicia as far as Lugo. His own loss in crossing the river had amounted to no more than 20 killed and 25 wounded, among the latter of whom however was Major-Greneral Paget, an officer of great gallantry and experience. That of the French did not fall short of 500. In the course of the entire campaign only 300 English were placed liors de combat, while of the French 6000, including the sick abandoned in Oporto, quitted their standards never to rejoin them again. The sufferings also of such as escaped with Soult appear to have been very great, for they marched shoeless and ragged, under pelting rain, over tracts that were barely passable. Yet in this respect the victors fared little better than the vanquished. When Wellesley returned to Oporto, which he did on the 21st, he found that 4000 men were down with sickness and fatigue; and that among such as still kept their places in the ranks, discipline was a good deal shaken. He set himself, with his usual vigour, to rebuke and restrain acts of plunder, and to collect, as far as the condition of his military chest would allow, fresh means of transport ; and he so far suc- ceeded, that he was able on the 27th to establish his head- quarters at Aveiro. His intention at that moment was to move rapidly by Gruarda and Almeida, in order to drive away Lapisse's division from Alcantara ; but, learning that it had already been, withdrawn and that Victor was again concentrated between the Tagus and the Gruadiana, at Cassares, he contented himself with ordering up General Mackenzie from Castello Branco to guard the bridge, while he himself resumed his design of falling upon the French in co-operation with Cuesta and his Spaniards. From Aveiro Wellesley proceeded to Coimbra, where his head- quarters were established on the 28th, and on the 8th of June he was at Abrantes. His progress had been slow, because everything necessary to facilitate the movements of an army were wanting to him. Unfortunately, the same causes operated to keep him stationary at Abrantes till the end of the month, and even then his means of transport proved quite inadequate. Not that the interval was entirely wasted. Besides that his correspondence with the English Minister at Lisbon and the Portuguese Grovern- ment was incessant, he despatched an able staff-officer, Lieutenant- Colonel Burke, to Cuesta's head- quarters, and arranged through him a plan of campaign, the object of which will be rendered more distinct if we explain in few words how the different pieces about to be moved upon the chess-board were situated at the moment. The total strength of the French army then in the Peninsula 124 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1809. may be taken at about 250,000 men of all arms. These were of necessity very much scattered ; but within a radius of less than 100 miles, taking Madrid as a centre, about 100,000 French troops, or something less, were available for military purposes. King Joseph occupied the capital itself with 5000 men ; Sebastian! was at Toledo with 12,000; Mortier, with 17,000 or 18,000, lay at Villa Castin two marches off ; and Victor was at Cassares with 28,000. Meanwhile Soult, having rapidly refitted at Lugo, had advanced as far as Salamanca, where, being joined by Ney, he could bring into line 30,000 men. Here were 92,000 of the best troops in the world placed, indeed, along a somewhat eccentric line, but so disposed as that, with common care and common promptitude, they could be available at almost any moment for mutual support. For there were passes through the mountains between Salamanca and the valley of the Tagus, which Cuesta, though repeatedly urged to occupy, left wholly unguarded; and from the open condition of which Wellesley, as we shall by and by have occasion to show, had well nigh sustained a very serious disaster. On the other hand we find Wellesley at Abrantes with 19,000 excellent troops ; Mackenzie at Alcantara with 8000, of which 2000 only were English ; Sir Eobert Wilson, among the mountains of Estremadura, with 4000 partisans ; Beresford at Almeida with 15,000 Portuguese; and the Due del Parque with 12,000 Spa- niards in and about Ciudad Eodrigo. Meanwhile Cuesta, with about 40,000 ill -armed and ill-disciplined Spaniards, had taken post between Medellin and Cassares; while Venegas, with 26,000, lay among the mountains of Toledo. So far as mere numbers were concerned, the Allies had therefore a slight advantage, while their detached corps being in more direct communication with each other, enabled them in a great degree to select their own line of action. To counterbalance this, however, there was not only the evil of a divided command, but a still greater drawback in the entire absence of steadiness and pliability everj^^where except among the English. Even the Portuguese, excellent as they subsequently became, were as yet little to be relied upon, and the Spaniards rarely came under fire without flinging their arms away and disbanding. It is just towards Wellesley to add that as yet he had seen too little of his allies quite to comprehend their merits, and hence that his arrangements were made and from time to time altered, under the persuasion that, in yielding his own judgment in some respects to that of Cuesta, he was acting with an officer who knew how to command, and who commanded troops that were at all events willing to fight. The plan agreed upon between the English and Spanish generals 1809. THE ENGLISH AND CUESTA UNITE. 125 was this : Wellesley and Ciiesta having united their forces were to advance by Placentia and Almaraz upon Madrid : Venegas, co- operating with them from the side of La Manca, was to interpose be- tween Victor and Sebastiani by a march upon Aranjuez. Sir Robert Wilson, with his partisans, was to occupy the Escurial and threaten Joseph's communications with the north, while Beresford and the Due del Parque were to give employment to the French corps on the Douro and at Salamanca. Finally, the valley of the Tagus was to be rendered secure by placing two Spanish brigades in the passes of Bancs and Porales, in support of which both Beresford and Wilson could manoeuvre. In pursuance of this arrangement the English broke up from Abrantes, and on the 20th of July effected their junction with Cuesta at Oropaga. No opposition was offered by Victor, who, retiring by Troxillo upon Almaraz, there crossed the Tagus and continued his march to Talavera de La Reyna. Venegas on the other hand so loitered by the way that, instead of separating Joseph and Sebastiani from Victor, he allowed himself to be separated from Cuesta by the junction of the three French corps between Torrejos and Toledo. But this was not entirely his fault. On the 22nd Wellesley entered Talavera, a mile or two beyond which Victor, with 22,000 men, had taken up a position. He at once detected the fault which the enemy had committed, and urged Cuesta to co-operate with him in taking advantage of it. But Cuesta could not be persuaded to fight on the 23rd. The con- sequence was that Victor retired at his leisure across the Alberche towards Toledo ; where, in the course of the 24th, 25th, and 26th, Joseph, having united his own force with that of Sebastiani, joined him. Joseph thus found himself at the head of 50,000 combatants, — a number which, but for the ill-judged march of Mortier to Salamanca, ought to have been increased to 67,000 or 68,000. The march of Mortier on Salamanca was executed, in spite of a strong remonstrance from the King. Soult insisted upon it, and supported his own views by referring to Napoleon's orders, which had been issued three months previously, and at a distance of 600 leagfues from the seat of war. This was one of those mistakes into which the French army in Spain was continually hurried, — sometimes through the determination of Napoleon personally to direct its movements from a distance, — sometimes because of the irrepressible jealousies which prevailed among his lieutenants, and warped their judgment. Yet there needed only a little more of promptitude on Soult's part, or a little more of prudence and reserve on the part of Joseph, to render the mistake in the present instance perfectly harmless. Had Soult moved, as he 126 MEMOIE OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1809. ought to have done so as to reach Placentia on the 30th or 31st of July, or had Joseph remained on the defensive till after the 5th of August, the consequences to the Allied armies might have been serious. As it was, the inexplicable tardiness of Soult on the one hand, and the over-eagerness of Jourdain and Victor on the other, brought matters to the crisis of which we are now efoins: to arive an account. Though Cuesta had refused to fight on the 23rd, he no sooner discovered that Victor was retiring than he insisted upon following him. Wellesley cautioned him in vain against so rash a step, and refused to join him in it, but he agreed to send two divisions of infantry and some cavalry across the Alberche with a view to keep open Cuesta's communications and secure his rear. And it was well that he did so, for on the 26th Victor and Cuesta met at Alcabon, where the former sustained a complete defeat. Back came the Spaniards in gi'eat confusion ; indeed, had they been followed up witi becoming vigour, it would have been difficult for them to have escaped total destruction. But Victor's remissness afforded time for Cuesta to withdraw ; and on the 27th, as if taught by misfortune to distrust himself, he placed his army entirely at Wellesley's disposal. It was now clear to Sir Arthur that a general action might be expected, and he took up the best position which circumstances would allow, being determined not to decline the combat if it should be pressed upon him. Between the town of Talavera and the commencement of the mountain ranges which close the valley of the Tagus to the north and north-west, there is a level space of about two miles in extent, having one or two heights domineering over it, especially towards the mountains and about the centre of the plain. It is very much wooded throughout, though chiefly so in front of the town, where also banks and hollow roads and walled gardens were numerous. Across this plain Wellesley arranged his first line, placing the Spaniards on the right where they were comparatively unassailable, and occupying with his second line the high ground of which we have just spoken. He began also to throw up a redoubt in front of his centre, which, however, for want of time, was left incom- plete. Behind that unfinished redoubt he stationed a division of English infantry, with a brigade of English cavalry and some Spanish horsemen in support. His left, consisting of Hill's di- vision, stood upon an eminence, between which and the mountains ran a narrow valley, into which valley, believing it to be com- manded by Hill's guns, he moved no troops. His total force con- sisted of no more than 44,000 infantry and 10,000 cavalry, of which less than 19,000 being the amount of English and German 1809. BATTLE OF TALAVEEA COMMENCED. 127 troops, could alone be depended upon; and he had 100 guns in position. The French army which moved against him comprised the corps of Victor, Sebastiani, and Joseph. They numbered in all 43,000 infantry, 7000 cavalry, and 90 guns ; they were well appointed, well drilled, homogeneous, and accustomed to victory. The odds were therefore tremendously in their favour. While the rest of his troops were filing into their appointed stations, Wellesley rode forward to the Casa de Selinas, a country- house some miles in front of Talavera, where Major-Greneral McKenzie with his division held the outposts. A Spanish corps about 10,000 strong lay on liis right in observation of the course of the Alberche; and the woods which stretched between were guarded by pickets. There seems to have been considerable remissness on the part of the sentries; for about noon on the 27th the enemy suddenly made his appearance swarming all round the Casa, and a sharp encounter with the regiments occu- pying that post ensued. It went against the English, who were driven back in some confusion. Indeed, Wellesley himself had a narrow escape from falling into the hands of the enemy ; for he was in an ujjper chamber reconnoitring when their tirailleurs closed about the house, and barely left him time to descend, spring into the saddle, and gallop off. Supported, however, by the cavalry, the English infantry soon rallied, and withdrew, fighting and in good order, into position. Not so the Spaniards. Milhaud's horsemen scarcely showed themselves before they broke and fled, the greater part with all their guns, right through the town ; nor were they seen again till after the decisive operation had come to an' end to which these skirmishes proved but the prelude. Encouraged by this first success, the divisions of Euffin and Lapisse fell at once upon the height where Hill was posted, and pressed him hard. Two battalions of the Grerman legion gave way, and for a moment the enemy stood upon the ridge of the eminence; but Greneral Sherbrooke wheeling round with his division attacked them in flank, and forced them over the brow of the hill with terrible slaughter. It was to no purpose that Victor in his turn sent supports to Euffin and Lapisse. Though more than once they forced their way well nigh to the summit of the hill, they never succeeded in effecting a lodgment there. But after a fierce combat, waged far into the night, were finally driven down at the point of the bayonet into the plain. The troops on both sides lay that night upon their arms. The French, abundantly supplied, eat and drank before they slept ; the Spaniards also fared well ; but all the promises made by Cuesta 128 MEMOIE OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1809. and the government which he served, to their allies, had been systematically broken. The only food issued to the English during two entire days was a handful of flour per man. Still the best spirit prevailed among them ; and two hours before daybreak all were in the ranks again. It was well that they had been so much upon the alert, for just as dawn began to break, a furious cannonade gave notice that the enemy were moving ; and almost before there was light enough to distinguish objects at a few yards' distance, the battle raged with the utmost fury. The first attack of the French on the morning of the 28th fell, like that of the previous afternoon, on the English left. It made no progress whatever, for Wellesley had during the night prolonged his line across the valley, and placed thereby the high grounds in a perfectly defensible condition. Then followed a pause of nearly three hours, from nine till twelve, during which the hostile armies faced each other, without effecting a single change of order or firing a shot. But as both suffered severely from thirst, for the day was burning hot, French and English soldiers might be seen going down in crowds to a narrow stream which flowed between their respective positions, that they might drink, and make friendly signs to one another. Meanwhile the chiefs on both sides passed to and fro, or met in groups, visible from all quarters, as if to confer. Among the French generals there was much diversity of opinion : Jourdain declared the English position to be unassailable in front, and advised King Joseph to stand fast till Soult should make his appearance in their rear. Victor, smarting under the recollection of past reverses, insisted on renewing the combat ; and added, that if he should again fail it would be time to give up making war. Among the Allies, on the other hand, there was quiet and determined expectation, except through the hollow roads and walled gardens where the Spaniards were posted, for upon them, though as yet little better than spectators of the battle, an unaccountable panic had fallen. Some regiments actually dis- banded themselves, and others seemed disposed to follow their example ; while Cuesta, like a madman, issued ferocious orders, and caused several of his people to be executed on the spot. But now the French drums began to beat ; stragglers ran back to their places ; columns of attack were formed ; and about an hour after noon they moved forward. Wellesley, who had dismounted, was sitting at this time on the brow of a hill, whence he could command a view of the entire plain before him. He had observed the French formations, and was about to get on horseback again, when Colonel Donkin, whose brigade lay on the right next to the Spaniards, rode up. He 1809. BATTLE CONTINUED. 129 handed a letter to Sir Arthur, saying at the same time that the Due del Alburquerque was the writer ; and Sir Arthur opening it, read, without the smallest perceptible emotion, that Cuesta was about to go over to the enemy. He quietly put the letter in his pocket, and said to Donkin, " Very well. Colonel ; you may go back to your brigade." Nothing more passed between, them. Nothing more was heard of this letter or of its contents till long afterwards. Whether Wellesley gave any credence to them or not, he acted as if they were quite untrustworthy ; a rare instance of that self-possession which seemed with him to become more perfect in proportion as dangers and difficulties accumulated round him. As it happened, there was no truth whatever in the allegation ; but to receive it at such a moment was enough to shake the nerves of the bravest. It had no such effect upon Wellesley. The brunt of the battle fell, on this occasion, not upon the English left, which was their weak point, but upon the right, where Campbell's division communicated with the Spaniards, and upon the centre. The left was indeed assailed, but feebly, rather, as it appeared, with a view to occupy the troops posted there than for any other purpose. The centre was hard pressed ; and for a brief space it seemed as if the line was about to be penetrated there. The English Gruards having repelled one attack, were so carried away by their ardour that they advanced too far, were themselves attacked in turn, and doubled up. They fell back in confusion, closely followed by the French ; when from the high ground where he stood Wellesley directed the 48th Eegiment to move forward. The conduct of that corps attracted universal admiration. Open- ing out, that the broken Guards might pass through, it closed its ranks again, as if on parade, and meeting the enemy's column with a volley, delivered at an interval of a few yards, tore it to pieces. Just then Anson's cavalry rode up. They dashed round the 48th, plunged into the disordered mass, and swept it away, as dust is scattered by the whirlwind. The defeat of this column decided the fate of the day. In every direction the French attacks had failed, and an opportunity was presented to the Spaniards of converting defeat into a rout, had they been capable of moving. But they were not capable. Good roads were before them, some leading to the front, others oljlique, so as to conduct into the enemy's rear, but of these no use could be made. They had done all that they were capable of effecting when they held the town and the enclosures roimd it. They were too little disciplined to manoeuvre in the presence of an enemy. "By six o'clock, therefore, in a summer's evening, this great battle came to an end, — the victors and the vanquished again K 130 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1809. lying down to rest, on the ground wLticb they had occupied in the morning. And here a sad incident occurred. The dry grass and shrubs, with which the face of the plain was covered, caught fire from the flashes of the guns. The flames spread with inconceivable rapidity ; and many a wounded man, unable to crawl out of their reach, perished where he lay. 1809. THE HOSTILE ARMIES IN BIVOUAC. 131 CHAP. X. ADVANCE OF SOTTLT. — AVELLESLEY MARCHES TO MEET HIM. — RAPID AND SKILFtTL KETKEAT ACROSS THE TAGUS. — VISITS LISBON AND CADIZ. — CHANGE OF POSITION. The loss in this fierce and protracted struggle, was very heavy on both sides. That of the English amounted to 6268 men, that of the French to 7396, besides 17 pieces of cannon. Its moral effect was even more favourable to the English than its political. " It restored," says Jomini, " to the successors of Marlborough, the glory which for a whole age seemed to have passed from them. It established the fact, that the English infantry was fit to contend on equal terms, with the best in Europe." In our opinion it did more; for of English infantry barely 16,000 were that day in the field, while the force which they encountered and overthrew, did not fall short of 30,000. It is worthy of remark, also, that Napoleon from that time greatly modified, in his cor- respondence, the opinions which he used to express of the English troops and of their leader. M. Thiers and Colonel Belmas, as is perhaps to be expected, make light of the affair. They speak of it as a mere drawn battle. But the Emperor, at least as good a judge as either on a military question, describes it in his letters to Joseph, as a terrible defeat. He was right. Yet it would be uncandid were we to deny, that had more generalshijD been dis- played on the side of the vanquished, the results of the operation must have been different. When two players sit down to- chess, both cannot win ; nor may the loser in any case escape the mor- tifying conviction, that he is to all intents and purposes, the cause of his own failure. The French and English armies slept, during the night of the 28th, on the ground which they had respectively occupied in the morning. Throughout the whole of the 29th they continued in like manner to face one another. But on the 30th, Joseph, alarmed by rumours of Wilson's advance upon Madrid, broke up his bivouac and marched away. Placing Victor on the fixrther bank of the Alberche, that he might be at hand to crush the allied rear as soon as Soult should force them to retire, he turned off K 2 132 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1809. towards the capital. Meanwhile 3000 fresh infantry, the nucleus of what afterwards became his famous Light Division, arrived in Wellesley's camp. They had marched 62 English miles in 26 hours, and leaving only 17 stragglers behind, reached the field just too late for the battle. Well pleased as he was at receiving such a reinforcement, Wellesley still felt himself too weak to assume the offensive. He regarded Joseph's army as repulsed rather than defeated, and now knew to his cost, that no reliance could be placed upon the Spaniards. Besides, he had just re- ceived, through the Madrid Grazette, intelligence of the armistice between the French and Austrians, and the progress of Soult was made known to him. Taking all these matters into consider- ation, he refused to make a forward movement, alleging, as he was perfectly justified in doing, that without either provisions or means of transport, a forward movement on his part was impossible. This determination gave great offence to Cuesta, to whom the English owed, to a large extent, the privations under which they suffered. But Wellesley paid no heed to his remonstrances ; and it was well that he did so. On the evening of the 2nd of August, Wellesley received in- telligence, that no co-operation was to be expected from Venegas. At the same time information reached him that the defile of Banos had been abandoned without resistance, and that Soult, passing through, was already with his advanced guard, near Pla- cencia. Being led to believe, however, that the force under Soult's orders did not exceed 14,000 or 15,000 men, he determined to double back, and to fight him ; leaving Cuesta to guard the position of Talavera, and to make head against Victor should he receive any interruption on that side. With this view he marched on the 3rd to Oropesa, and then for the first time, heard that not 15,000 but 35,000 French troops were in the valley of the Tagus. There was not a moment to spare. Enclosed as he now felt himself to be between two armies, each superior to his own, he made up his mind to escape at once by the only means which were open to him. He directed Crawfurd with the Light Division to pass the mountains, and to seize, cross, and destroy, the bridge at Alma- raz. This was indeed a bold enterprise, for Mortier was already at Naval Moral, and being master of the great road into Estre- madura, ought to have beaded Crawfurd and cut him off. But Mortier loitered, while Crawfurd made haste, and the bridge was broken, and the ford beside it secured, ere the first French videttes made their appearance on the stream. Meanwhile Wellesley turned towards Arzobispo, but had not proceeded far when the Avhole Spanish army was seen in full march towards him. Cuesta, 1809. THE ENGLISH CROSS THE TAGUS. 133 it appeared, had become alarmed, on hearing, the day after the English quitted him, that Soult was in force ; and under the pre- text of supporting his allies in the anticipated struggle, he aban- doned his position on the Alberche, leaving the sick and wounded in Talavera, to their fate. The interview between the two generals was not very satisfactory to either. Wellesley pointed out to the Spaniard that they were between two fires, and that the force which beset them both in front and rear was too strong to be dealt with. Cuesta insisted upon halting where they were, and giving battle to the first comer. To this of course Wellesley would not assent, so the one continued his march through a rough and difficult country, while the other stood fast at Oropeza, as if to tempt his fate. That night, and in the course of the following day, the English crossed the Tagus, and were safe. Cuesta's military ardour, on the other hand, grew cool, as the French began to make their appear- ance, and at an early hour on the 5th, he too fell back in the direction which his allies had taken. The result was that the main body of his army got with difficulty across, but that a rear guard which he left in Arzobispo, under the orders of Albur- querque, was put to the rout with the loss of 30 guns. While the Spaniards were thus mismanaging their affairs, Wellesley pursued his own course. 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 Badajos and Lisbon. There he remained 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 Al- maraz and Arzobispo broken, and the fords well guarded was, for purposes 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 determined to resume the offensive, and to fight a battle at all hazards. Fortunately for him, and perhaps for Europe, the march upon Lisbon which Soult suggested, was not adopted by King Joseph. Apparently satisfied with removing an immediate danger from himself, he broke up his army into portions ; and Wellesley, in consequence, was enabled to fall back at his leisure upon Badajos, in the villages round which he placed his weary and worn army to recruit. Among all his campaigns perhaps there is not one, in which, more remarkably than in this of Talavera, Wellesley exhibited the several features of his grand military character ; his prudence, not K 3 134 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1809. to call it deliberation in preparing ; his clear perception of the end to which his operations ought to be directed ; his steady, rather than rapid movements, in bringing them to a head; his skill in the selection of a defensive position ; his wisdom in providing, as far as circumstances would allow, against contingencies ; and the firm 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 protracted 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 resources. But was Wellesley alone to blame for this? Surely not. Indifferently supplied when he began his march against Soult, he found himself, after the campaign of the Douro came to an end, 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 cavalry and infantry in the river, yet week after week passed by and they failed to make their appearance, and at last he was compelled to move without them, trusting to the promises of the Spaniards for rations, which he had no means of carrying for himself. A less cautious commander would have probably made this move earlier than he did; 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 about to co-ope- rate, is by no means certain. Cuesta's army, as Wellesley 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 dispersion of the Spaniards would have been certain. And thus Wellesley 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 opportunities 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 afterwards was as rapid as circumstances would allow ; and his arrangements were excellent. Had the battle been fought on the 23rd, which he proposed, Cuesta would have been in Madrid two days afterwards. And failing this, Wellesley's determination not to go beyond the posi- 1809. CEITICISM. 135 tion of Talavera was most judicious. Of his conduct during the trjring days of the 26th and 27th, it is unnecessary to speak. Cool, cahn, self-possessed, he inspired every body round him with 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 these, in their reports to Wel- lesley's head-quarters, greatly understated the strength of the corps, which had threatened the defile of Banos. Sir Kobert Wilson, among others, sent in very incorrect reports in order to jus^ tify his deviation from that part, in the series of combined operations, which had been allotted to him. Once rightly informed, however, Wellesley's proceedings were as vigorous as they were wisely chosen. It was a master's hand which pushed Crawfurd through the moun- tains 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 hindrance to him all the while, that the inha- bitants as he 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 to- gether, in a state well nigh of starvation, or the skill and energy of the leader, who brought them out of such a complication of difficulties without losing a gun, or leaving a single straggler behind. Look now for a moment at the proceedings on the other side, and compare the generalship of the French leaders with that of the English. Victor, within a few marches of the Guadiana, loiters there, while Wellesley falls upon Soult at Oporto, and overthrows him. He neither lays siege, as he might have done, to Badajos, nor forces the passage of the Tagus at Abrantes; or better still at Santarem, whence the road to Lisbon would have lain open to him, unless his movement had stopped Wellesley in the midst of his operations. By and by, being informed of Wellesley's proceedings, he hesitates and wavers, first seizing the bridge at Almaraz, then withdrawing from it, and finally retiring to Talavera; and at Talavera he lingers just long enough to expose himself to complete defeat, had not Cuesta's obstinacy saved him. So also Marshal Soult, as if to compensate for his vigour in refitting at Lugo, halts at Salamanca ; and weakens Joseph liy K 4 136 MEMOIR OP THE DUKE OP WELLINGTON. 1809. calling in Mortier, at a moment when the King was about to attack Wellesley. And worse still, he takes so much time to effect his march from Salamanca to Placencia, that instead of arriving at the latter place on the 26th of July, it was the 5th of August ere he got fairly through the pass of Baiios. No doubt the King had thwarted him in a plan of his own, which pointed to a separate operation against Ciudad Eodrigo, and even against Lisbon. But having consented to the arrangements proposed, he was to blame for not carrying them more promptly into effect. The truth however is, that possessing many of the qualities of a great general, Soult was defective in one, without which all the rest become comparatively useless. He never appeared to know when or where to strike. Hence his caution in threading the mountain defiles of the Tamanes ; and the still more unaccountable hesitation which permitted Wellesley to head him, with Crawfurd's division, and to break down the bridge of boats at Almaraz. But if Soult was blameable on the score of dilatoriness, what shall we say of the head-strong precipitation which urged Victor to hurry the King into an offensive battle at the very moment when delay was as advantageous to him, as it must have been fatal to "Wellesley. In front of Talavera, with Madrid open to them, the French could never fall short of provisions, and from at- tack on the part of Wellesley and the Spaniards they were quite secure. Had they remained on the defensive, as Soult intended them to do, till he got between the Allies and their line of retreat by the great Estremadura road, nothing could have saved the Anglo- Spanish army from destruction, if indeed, it would have been pos- sible for Wellesley to keep his ground so long, starving as his people were in the midst of plenty. Nor is this all. After these mistakes had been committed, and the battle of Talavera fought, it was still competent to the French to reap the fruits of a successful campaign, had they known how to take advantage of their superiority in numbers, and aimed rather at a grand final result than at more immediate, but less important triumphs. " Joseph," says Jomini, " having concentrated 85,000 men in the valley of the Tagus, ought to have left one corps at Toledo, and to have fallen with the other four upon the English wherever he might find them." And this was Soult's view of the case. " His desire," writes Joseph, "was to assemble an army of about 60,000 men, with which at once to invade Portugal ; to march upon Lisbon, with a view to drive away the English ; to destroy the Portuguese troops ; to move next upon Seville, to disperse the junta, overrim Anda- lusia, and to annihilate the insurrectionary armies of Cuesta, Venegas, and the rest." AMiat the issue might have been had Soult's 1809. THE ENGLISH ON THE GUADIANA. 137 proposal been acceded to, it is hard to say ; but this much is certain, that neither before, nor at any subsequent period, was such an opportunity presented of finishing at a blow the war in the Peninsula. Instead of acting on Soult's suggestions, Joseph halted on the further side of the Tagus, and broke up his magnificent army into four corps. One, under Victor, he sent to support Sebastiani, who manoeuvred in front of Venegas, moving at last in the direction of jNIadrid ; another, under Mortier, fixed its head- quarters at Oropesa, where it observed the course of the river between Toledo and Almaraz ; a third, under Soult, moved off to Placencia, where it watched the debouches into Portugal ; while a fourth took the road to Salamanca, with a view to disperse the Duke del Parque's bands, which infested Old Castile. Necessarily uncertain as to the enemy's plans, and jealous both of Andalusia and of the north of Portugal, Wellesley kept his central position at Badajos, notwithstanding that his troops suffered a good deal from the pestilential miasmata sent forth from the swampy meadows on either side of the Guadiana. No solicitations however could prevail upon him to commit himself to a second combined operation with the Spaniards. He had learned during the brief enterprise against Madrid, entirely to mistrust them. Not one of the promises made before the march began had been fulfilled. They supplied him with no means of transport, they left his troops to starve ; they never once executed in time move- ments which had been agreed upon ; they were perfectly worthless under fire. His sick and wounded whom he had left under their protection at Talavera, they deserted; and they evinced their hostility by circulating a report, that his men were guilty of acts of cruelty to prisoners which they themselves had committed. Between the 20th of July and the 20th of August, he was able to issue only ten whole rations to his troops though the Spaniards all the while were living in abundance. The consequence was, that the men's strength failed through lack of food; the sick perished for want of care ; the cavalry became unserviceable, and the commissariat broke down. Nor was Beresford, who lay in the neighbourhood of Ciudad Rodrigo, better treated by the autho- rities there. They refused to supply him out of their own stores, with a single meal, and a magazine which he had established for himself they seized under the pretext that a debt due by Sir John Moore had never been paid. Wellesley became, as he liad a right to be, very indignant at all this. He remonstrated with the magistrates, who endeavoured to excuse themselves by declaring that the country was exhausted ; but he rejected the plea with 138 MEMOIR OP THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1809. disdain. " It is ridiculous," he wrote, " to pretend that the country cannot supply our wants. The French army is well supplied, the Spanish army has every thing in abundance, and we alone, upon whom everything depends, are dying of hunger." It was not, however, exclusively because he distrusted their will to deal fairly by him, that Wellesley determined from this time forth, to fight /or the Spaniards, but not ivith them. The Austrian contest was at an end, and Napoleon's projected marriage with a daughter of the Imperial House, gave greater assurance of continued peace on the side of Grermany, than had prevailed at any period since the commencement of the revolutionary war. It was to be expected, therefore, that the French armies in Spain, already superior to the native armies in number, would be largely increased, and that the war in the Peninsula must either come to an end, or be con- ducted by the Allies on strictly defensive principles. But no great war, whether of offence or defence, can be carried on with any hope of success, except by officers acquainted mth the art and troops accustomed to the use of arms. Wellesley, therefore, urged the Spanish Grovernment to lay aside the schemes of aggression and conquest in which they delighted to indulge, to avoid general actions, and to devote all their energies to the training, in safe positions, of their raw levies. He might as well have reasoned with the wind. They changed their leaders, but made no alter- ation in their policy. Cuesta resigned, after the retreat from Talavera, and was succeeded by Equia. Equia gave dissatisfac- tion, because of his over caution, and Areyzaga superseded him. Him the Junta of Seville directed to form a junction with Del Parque and Alburquerque at Talavera ; and to drive the enemy out of Madrid. It was to no purpose that Wellesley warned the ministers and members of the junta that the plan was ill conceived, and required modification. " So convinced," says Count Toreno, ** were they of the feasibility of the enterprise, that the Junta solicited MM. Jovillanos and Eequelme to arrange what cere- monies should be observed on the occasion of the triumphal en- trance of the Junta into Madrid."' The predictions of Wellington were not slow in receiving their accomplishment. Areyzaga crossing the Sierra Morena with 50,000 men and 60 guns, was attacked on the 19th of November, at Ocana, by 25,000 French troops, under the command of Joseph and Soult. He suffered a total defeat, with the loss of 25,000 prisoners and all his artillery. Meanwhile Del Parque, who had moved up from Ciudad Rodrigo and obtained an unlooked-for success on the 18th of October, over Greneral Marchand at Tamames, halted there, till he should receive intelligence of 1809. WELLESLEY EAISED TO THE PEERAGE. 139 Areyzaga's movements. Threatened by Key's corps, he withdrew from that place, and on the 23 rd of November attacked the enemy with some success at Medina del Campo. But on the night of the 26th, intelligence of Areyzaga's overthrow reached him, and he began a disorderly retreat towards Ciudad Rodrigo. It Avas too late. On the 28th, 2000 cavalry, the advanced guard of the French under Kellerman, overtook him at Alba de Tormes, sabred 3000 men, and captured fifteen pieces of cannon. His army dispersed. There followed upon this the retreat of Albur- querque from Meza del Ebor, and the position of Puerto de Mirabete towards the Gruadiana, and the entire uncovering from Toledo, to Alcantara, of the course of the Tagus to the enemy. While these things were yet in progress, Wellesley received, both from his own, and from the Spanish Grovernment, such marks of honour as his eminent services had earned. He was raised to the British peerage by the title of Baron and Viscount Wellington. Parliament, when it met, voted its thanks to him and to his army, and the Duke of York as well as the English Minister of War, wrote to him letters of warm congratulation. The Spanish Grovernment created him a Captain-Greneral of the armies of Spain ; yet in Spain his triumphs were regarded with no very friendly eye ; and even at home, public opinion was a good deal divided as to their probable consequences. The opposition both in the Lords and in the Commons, pronounced the campaign to be a failure. They spoke of the battle of Talavera as worse than profitless and clamoured for the abandonment of the contest. What confidence could be reposed in the military talents of a Grovern- ment, which had just sacrificed the finest army that ever quitted the English shores, amid the fevers of Walcheren ? What hope of success could there be in Spain or Portugal against Napoleon, now victorious over Austria, and assured by his mar- riage with a daughter of the Imperial House, against future molestation on the side of Grermany. The Government, on the other hand, w^hile it resisted the demand, resisted but feebly. It was cowed by the memory of its own short-comings on the Scheldt, and looked with consternation at the enormous expense in which the Peninsular War was involving the country. Still the majority of thinkers out of doors being in favour of a continuance of the struggle, the King's ministers saw as much of danger to themselves in receding as in going on. They, therefore, came to the determination of throwing the respon- sibility upon their general. It was not very generous on their parts, but they were, at the moment, in extreme difficulty. The Duke of Portland had resigned. Mr. Canning claimed to 140 MEMOIE OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1809. become his successor. Between Mr. Canning and Lord Castle- reagh differences arose, which led first to a duel and then to the resignation of both. After a good deal of shuffling, the Cabinet coalesced again with Lord Liverpool at the War Office, while Lord Wellesley was named for the Foreign Department. These troubles within coming in the wake of a great failure from with- out, produced a degree of timidity, which is more, perhaps, to be censured, than to be wondered at. The results were, that Lord Liverpool, writing to Lord Wellington, called upon him to say, whether the war was to be maintained or abandoned in the Peninsula ; and if maintained, whether with a view to expel the French from Spain, or to retain to the last possible moment a hold upon Portugal ? Lord Wellington replied satisfactorily to both questions, and turned henceforth his attention almost ex- clusively to the defence of Portugal. Early in October, Lord Wellington paid a hasty visit to Lis- bon. His ostensible object was to consider with Mr. Villiers cer- tain points affecting the better organisation of the resources of the kingdom ; his real purpose to fix upon some position, ])y fortify- ing which he should be able both to cover the city, and to secure his own embarkation, at any moment, should the force of circum- stances oblige him to withdraw. In the accomplishment of the latter design he found an able coadjutor in Lieutenant-Colonel Fletcher of the Royal Engineers, under whose direction, though strictly in pursuance of a plan drawn up by Lord Wellington him- self, three lines of works, one within the other, were immediately begun. Of these we shall take occasion, when the proper time comes, to give a sufficiently intelligible description. For the pre- sent it may suffice to observe that the operation was kept a pro- found secret, even from the persons employed upon it. In conducting the former negociation he had all the difficulties to surmount which apathy, ill will, and personal corruption among the members of the regency could throw in his way. Over these, however, his calmness and determination so far triumphed that full powers were afforded him of acting as the circumstances of the times might require. He had arrived in Lisbon on the 9th ; he quitted it again on the 27th. Being desirous of personal conference with Lord Wellesley before he should quit Spain, as well as with the members of the Grovernment to which he was accredited, he then took the road to Seville. He reached that place on the evening of the 2nd of November, and two days afterwards accompanied Lord Wellesley to Cadiz. His personal intercourse with the Supreme Junta does not appear to have been productive of much benefit to the common cause. He failed in 1809. POSITION OUTSIDE OF THE TAGUS. 141 making them understand that their armies were in no condition to fight great battles : and those disasters accordingly befel, of which, in anticipation of events, we have just given an account. Lord Wellington returned to his head-quarters near Badajoz anticipating all that came to pass. The overthrow of Areyzaga's and Del Parque's corps left to the enemy a choice of plans — all full of peril to him. They might either pour into Andalusia, or turn round upon him ; or they might mass their columns on the left of the Tagus, and penetrate into Portugal from the north. He determined so to place himself as that he should be in a posi- tion to meet the damper from whatever side it miofht come. Ac- cordingly he broke up from his cantonments on the Guadiana, crossed the Tagus at Abrantes, and took up a new line, somewhat extended perhaps, but admirably adapted to serve the purposes which he had in view. He placed himself with his left in Guarda, and the right of the corps, under his own immediate orders, at Viseu. One regiment of cavalry accompanied this corps to take the outposts — the remainder was left where stabling and forage were more abundant, along the Tagus between Abrantes and Santarem. At Abrantes itself, on the south of the river, Hill with a second corps posted himself. Thus every approach to Lisbon, whether through the Alentejo, or by Beira, was observed, while some protection was afforded to Badajos on one flank, and to Ciudad Eodrigo and Almeida on the other. " I have made this disposition of the army," he says, " with a view to form of the whole British and Portuguese armies two principal corps : one for the defence of the provinces south of the Tagus, which will con- sist of General Hill's division of British infantry, two brigades of Portuguese infantry, one brigade of British, and two brigades of Portuguese cavalry, one brigade of British, and two brigades of Portuguese artillery ; and the other of three divisions of British infantry, and all the Portuguese infantry not employed in garrisons, and the British cavalry and the British and Portuguese artillery." Finally the Light Division under Crawfurd was pushed forward into the valley of the Coa, with orders to observe the course of that river, but to avoid unnecessary exposure, and on no account what- ever to be enticed into fighting a battle, even if seriously at- tacked. 142 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1810. CHAP. XI. EELATrVE STREKGTH AND POSITIONS OP THE BELLIGERENTS. — MASSENA TAKES THE COMMAND OP THE FRENCH ARMX. — PALL OF CIT7DAD RODRIGO AND ALMEIDA. — AFFAIR ON THE COA. — RETREAT OP THE ENGLISH. — BATTLE OF BXTSACO. — THE LINES OP TORRES VEDRAS. It may be well before proceeding farther with our narrative, to present the reader with a general view of the relative strength and position of the belligerents, at this stage of the war in the Peninsula. It has just been shown that in December, 1809, the British army broke up from its position on the frontier of Estremadura, and took up another in Upper Beira, between the Mondego and the Tagus. Three motives combined to lead Lord Wellington into this arrangement : — 1st. He believed that the French were alive to the fact, that till they should have driven the English out of Lisbon, they could scarcely hope to invade Andalusia with success, certainly not to keep permanent possession of the coimtry after it had been over- run. This belief was strengthened by observing how they con- ducted themselves after the battle of Ocana. The results of that battle fought in the month of November, and the state to which it reduced the Spanish army, not only exposed Andalusia to invasion, but afforded the best opportunit}^ for reducing Cadiz itself. But instead of taking advantage of that opportunity, the victors countermarched on Old Castile, creating thereby a 13ersuasion, that they meditated a fresh inroad into the north of Portugal, after they should have made themselves masters of Ciudad Eodrigo, and Almeida. 2nd. There was every reason to expect that, in consequence of the peace with Austria, large reinforcements of French troops would immediately enter Spain, the whole of which would be probably thrown upon the frontiers of Portugal. 3rd. The rise of the Tagus, and of the Gruadiana, which had already begun, and which the expected rains would greatly in- crease, presented a serious obstacle to the advance of the enemy through Estremadura ; where the roads, indifferent even in summer, become in winter impracticable, and where the Due del 1810. DISPOSITION OP THE HOSTILE ARMIES. 143 Alburquerque, with his corps of 12,000 men, still occupied a posi- tion, in and around Medellin. By the 15th of January, 1810, the British army was placed in its new allignment, with its right at Gruarda, its left extending towards the Douro, and the advanced posts on the Coa. The head' quarters were at Viseu. Its total effective strength in rank and file was 19,500 men, 2800 out of which number were cavalry, leaving 16,700 infantry, of whom 800 Avere in Lisbon. Hill's infantry division, 4,400 strong, had been left at Abrantes on the Tagus, as the nucleus of a corps, which might operate on the frontiers of Alentejo, and in Estreraadura, if, contrary both to expectation and to appearances, the enemy should advance in that direction. All this time the Portuguese army was in a state well-nigh of inefl&ciency. Its organisation and discipline had been seriously thrown back by the operations of the previous summer. The men were in rags, and their equipments, and even their arms, had suffered almost as much as their clothing. They were, therefore, placed in caotonments, in the interior of the country, whence it was determined not, if possible, to remove them, till time should be afforded for their re-formation and re-equipment. With respect to the Spaniards, they were circumstanced thus : the Due del Alburquerque lay, as has just been stated, at Medellin, with 12,000 men ; about 24,000 fugitives from the battle of Ocana had been collected at La Carolina, and guarded the principal passes of the Sierra Morena; 20,000 or thereabouts, which had re-assembled after Del Parque's action on the Tormes, were at San Martin de Trebijo, in the Sierra de Grata ; 6000 or 8000 were in Gallicia at Astorga and Villa Franca, under Greneral Mahy ; and Ciudad Kodrigo was garrisoned. Lord Wellington repeatedly besought the Spanish Grovernment to reinforce Alburquerque's corps. He pointed out that the position of that corps offered extraordinary advantages, because it was at hand to repel any attempt of the enemy to pass the Tagus at Almiraz ; and in the event of their crossing La Manca, it could easily be thrown upon their right flank, by marching through the valley of the Guadiana. Lord Wellington's advice was not however taken, and the conse- quences in due time made themselves felt. The enemy's force, available for the campaign, consisted of the corps of Sebastian], Victor, Mortier, Soult and Ney, besides King Joseph's guard, and Dessolle's reserve. Soult's corps, 12,000 strong, lay at Talavera. Sebastiani, Victor, Mortier, the guards, and Dessolles, were disposed about Madrid, and along the Tagus. They numbered in all about 65,000. Ney was in Old Castile at 144 MEMOm OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1810. tlie head of 32,000, and, towards the middle of January, Jiinot crossed the Pyrenees with 27,000 more. Besides these troops, with which Wellington had more immediately to do, there were in Aragon, Junot's corps, and the corps com- manded, first by Agereau, and afterwards by Macdonald in Ca- talonia. This latter, called the army of Catalonia, was at hand to take part in any operations which might be carried on in Valencia, and eventually did take part in them, after they were begun. Contrary to Lord Wellington's expectation, and in opposition to all the principles of the art of war, the first operation entered upon by the French, was the invasion of Andalusia. In this, Joseph himself took part ; and he travelled with such a retinue of courtiers and domestics, as seriously to incommode the movements of the army. The mountain passes were carried without opposition ; for the Spanish troops which held them retired, as soon as threatened, and breaking up into separate bodies ceased to constitute an army. The gTeater portion under Areyzaga himself, retreated first to Jaen, and then to Grrenada. From this latter place it withdrew into Murcia, where it assumed the title of the army of Murcia. Part took refuge in the Sierra de Eonda, whence 'it escaped into Gib- raltar, and was ultimately conveyed by sea to Cadiz ; part fell back through Seville, upon Condado de Niebla, where it passed under the command of Greneral Copons. Finally, a division with the artillery, crossed the Gruadalquiver at Seville, and proceeded in a body as far as Monestario in Estremadura. There it was broken up ; the artillery being sent to Badajoz, and the infantry to Aya- monte, where it embarked on board of ship. Had the French, after forcing the passes of the Sierra Morena, pushed on without a halt to Cadiz, that important place, which was without either provision or military stores, must have opened its gates to them. Instead of adopting this wise course, however, Joseph detached Sebastian! in the direction of Jaen, and proceeded himself with his guards and the reserve to Seville. Time was there- by afforded for Alburquerque to execute the most soldier -like movement which any Spanish general, acting on his own suggestion, effected throughout the war. Throwing a portion of his army into Badajoz, he marched with the remainder by Guadalcanal, headed the French at Xeres, and occupied the Isle of Leon, before they could approach the place. Up to a period little antecedent to this, the Central Junta, as it called itself, had assumed or affected to assume, the functions of the supreme government at Seville. Each province or kingdom in Spain had, however, its own junta, and none of them paid willing obedience to the decrees of the Junta of Seville. It was 1810. LINES OF TOERES VEDKAS. 145 therefore on the recommendation of the British minister, dissolved, and a Eegency appointed, as a step preparatory to the assembling-, at the earliest convenient moment, of a general Cortes. The regency fled, of course, on the approach of the French, and took refuge in the Isle of Leon. And now went forth an entreaty for that support by British troops which, till danger threatened, had been pertinaciously rejected. Lord Wellington was written to and, with rare self-denial, he at once sent off from Lisbon, four newly arrived British battalions with a regiment of Portuguese infantry, the best in point of discipline, of all that had been formed. The letters of Mr. Wellesley from Cadiz, show, that but for the oppor- tune arrival of that force, the place must have fallen. The obsti- nate defence of the Matagorda Fort, by a handful of British troops under Captain Maclean, deranged the enemy's plans, and set the minds of the inhabitants at ease. As soon as intelligence of the attack on the Sierra Morena reached Seville, the Junta despatched orders to Del Parques to march into Estremadura ; and entreated Lord Wellington to co- operate with that movement. This Wellington declined to do ; well knowing, that the time for thwarting the enemy's design on Anda- lusia was gone by ; and feeling, besides, that so far as the general issues of the war were concerned, the French, by prematurely invading that province, had committed a great military fault. They might overrun, as indeed they did overrun, the whole country ; but with Cadiz held by the Allies on one side, and Portugal on the other, their tenure of the province must always be uncertain. Besides, he could not abandon his position in Beira, without exposing Lisbon itself to Ney, who was already in motion, and whom Junot was moving up to support. Influenced by these considerations, and desirous, above all things, to provide securely against the future, Wellington kept his own force, now diminished to about 15,000 British troops, in their cantonments. Colonel Fletcher, meanwhile, was busy in the rear, upon the famous lines of Torres Vedras. These extended along their most advanced front, between the embouchure of the Tagus on the right, and the mouth of the Zezandra on the left. They blocked with redoubts all approaches to Lisbon, from Santarem, from Alcantara, from Rio Maior, through Torres Vedras, from Obedos, and from Peniche. The faces of all the hills were scarped, the courses of all the streams were dammed, breast-works and batteries covered every exposed place, and abbattis rendered the narrow tracks impassable, ^^^.lere the ground was more exposed than elsewhere, a fort, mounted with heavy guns, commanded it, and in rear of all, roads of communication were formed. Following the L 146 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1810. curve along which this first line ran, the distance from the extreme right to the extreme left would not come much short of twenty-five English miles. But so many good roads branched off in every direction from two or three central points in the rear, that troops marching from these points could compass the longest inter- vening space to the front in two hours, the more narrow intervals in one hour, or even in less time. About four, or possibly five miles behind the centre of this ad- vanced line, ran a second, skirting the ridges of the mountain chain which extends from Quintello through Bucellas, Monta- chique, and Mafra to the sea. And last of all, in front of Fort St. Julian, a double work was constructed, with curtains and bastions ; of sufficient extent to hold, without inconvenience, a stout garrison, and strong enough to resist even regular approaches till the em- barkation of a defeated army could be effected. It was upon these lines that Lord Wellington relied to stop the tide of battle when it should break upon him, and to keep the enemy at bay till hunger should compel them to withdraw. For he was perfectly acquainted with the French system of carrying on war, and knew how it must break down if proper precautions were taken. Having* complete command of the sea, he had nothing to apprehend from any attempt to get in that direction into his rear. It was indeed within the range of possibility that Lisbon might be incommoded by vertical fire from Almada, and that an attempt to cross the Tagus below Quintello might even be made. But the latter design could scarcely succeed with a British fleet in the river, and the former was hardly to be counted upon at all. WTiat he most cared for, was, that from an army stopped by his lines all means of subsistence should be taken away. For the French never in those days established magazines, or lived upon their own resources. They compelled the countries through which they passed to subsist them, and when violence could no longer bring hidden stores to light, they starved, or else were compelled to shift their ground. Hence in Spain and Portugal their aggressive operations rarely began except at that season of the year when the harvest approached to maturity. If they succeeded in securing the stand- ing crops, they were safe till all was consumed. If they were forced to move before the corn became ripe, or after it had been carried away, they suffered the severest privations. Looking to these facts, and bearing in mind that the war whichhe had undertaken was for the deliverance of Europe, Lord Wellington made no scruple about requiring from Portugal such sacrifices as only the extreme exigency of the case could excuse. He caused the Government to issue orders for the burning of every house- 1810. THE ENEMY IN MOTION. 147 the destructiou of every mill, the removal of every grain of corn and animal fit for food, along the entire line by which the French shonld make their advance towards Lisbon. Nothing was to be left which could in any way conduce to their support. If time were not afforded to remove their stores, the people were commanded to burn them; if they could not drive their cattle and poultry away, they were to kill them. It was a terrible edict, but a terrible necessity compelled it. And though in its execution, partial as that execu- tion was, it brought intense suffering on a generation, without doubt the independence of Portugal was saved by it ; and an example set of successful resistance to a power which depended upon terror, and terror only, for its supremacy. In the first week of February intelligence reached Lord Wellington's head-quarters that Soult was entering Estremadura from Talavera, and that Mortier, from Andalusia, was moving to support him. The latter had marched from Seville on the 2nd in pursuit of the division of Areyzaga's army which guarded the artillery; and on the 12th, the two corps having united, arrived in front of Badajos. Just about the same time Ney's advanced guard summoned Ciudad Eodrigo, and Victor began his siege operations against Cadiz. No time was lost by Lord Wellington in effecting a counter- move to the enemy's advance through Estremadura. On the 12th Hill was put in motion from Abrantes, and directed, with his own division of British infantry, two brigades of Portuguese infantry, one brigade of British, and one regiment of Portuguese cavalry, one battery of Grerman, and two of Portuguese guns, to march upon Portalegre. The jDurport of that move was, first, to bring Hill into communication with the Duque del Parque, who was sup- posed by this time to have crossed the Tagus ; and next, to prevent the enemy from undertaking the siege of Badajos. Though the former of these objects was not attained, for Del Pai'que could not be found, the latter proved eminently success- ful. The enemy no sooner heard of Hill's arrival at Portalegre, than they retired from before Badajos ; one portion, under Mortier, moving off to the south, the other, under the command of Eegnier, returning to its old quarters at Merida. Simultaneously with the march of Hill upon Portalegre, the Light Division, under Crawfurd, was pushed across the Coa, and such a demonstration made as induced Ney to withdraw from Ciudad Eodrigo. He retired to his old quarters on the Tormes, and detached Greneral Loisson, with one division, to form the siege of Astorga. That place was too much out of the line of Lord Well- ington's operations to be relieved, and after repulsing one assault, L 2 148 MEMOIE OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1810. it was forced, in due time, by the blowing up of the principal magazine, to surrender. From this date till the middle of March, no important move- ment was made by either party. Lord Wellington remained in his cantonments at Beira ; the construction of the lines of Torres Vedras was carried on with great diligence ; the Portuguese troops improved daily in drill and general equipment; and the men and horses of both armies, being well sheltered from the weather, grew more fit, in every respect, for the business of war. Among the Spaniards some changes occurred in the distribution of commands, one of which placed the Marques de la Eomana at the head of that which had formerly been the Due del Parque's army. He was considered to be one of the ablest of the Spanish generals, and his attachment to the British alliance was undeniable. But he had long suffered from disease of the heart, and was not now physically capable of much exertion. The French were by this time, as far as numbers went, inferior in Estremadura to the Allies. Regnier, who for the moment com- manded Soult's corps *, was alone at Merida with 15,000 men; while the combined forces of Hill and the Marques de la Eomana could not fall short of 24,000. The project of attacking Eegnier was therefore considered, but the reasons against it proved so many and so cogent, that Lord Wellington abstained from making the attempt. In the first place there were no means of preventing Eegnier from retreating as the Allies advanced, either to the Sierra Morena, or along the valley of the Guadiana to Ciudad Eeal, or between the Tagus and the Gruadiana to Arzobispo. In the next place it was more than jDrobable that before any serious im- pression could be made on Eegnier, Mortier would succeed in rejoining him. This was the more probable that Eegnier's superior cavalry could always save him from being hard pressed, and should the junction take place, the enemy would then become stronger than the Allies in infantry also. Lastly, means of sub- sistence were wanting. Eomana's troops were starving in their cantonments at Merida, and the country through which it would have been necessary to move, had long ago been eaten up. On the whole, therefore, it was judged expedient to act entirely on the defensive in Estremadura. All this while the work of re-equipping and reorganising the Portuguese troops went on with great vigour. So well, also, were affairs conducted, that by the first week in April Lord Wellington could count on being able to bring into line, and * Both Soult's and Mortier's corps had lately received strong reinforcements. 1810. MASSEXA TAKES COMMAND OF THE FKENCII AEMY. 149 to i^lace considerable reliance on, tv/elve battalions of regular infantry and four of chasseurs. These, estimated at 14,000 rank and file, would raise his total force in Beira to little short of 30,000 ; independently of Hill's corps, amounting to 12,000. The enemy, on the other hand, received day by day fresh ac- cessions to their numbers, and a new commander to lead them. Marshal Massena, whose reputation as a soldier stood second to that of Napoleon alone, had been disjDatched to assume the com- mand of the army of Portugal, with a general plan, well digested, for his guidance, and just as much of discretion allowed as would, in the opinion of the Emperor, suffice to gratify his sense of self- importance, without permitting him in any material point to deviate from the instructions which he had received. The effect of this measure was immediately felt. It has been said, on high authority, that he undertook the command against his inclination, and with a heavy foreboding of failure ; but, however this might be, all his arrangements, both now and subsequently, were judicious in the extreme. A magazine was formed at Salamanca. Junot, after reducing Astorga, was moved up ; and Ney's corps, 30,000 strong, was pushed on, to effect the blockade of Ciudad Eodrigo, on the right of the Agueda. Impetuous, and fond of fighting, Crawfurd, who held the British outj)osts with the Light Division, had repeatedly asked leave to make a forward movement, with a view, as he stated, of disturb- ing the enemy's plans. He was, on each occasion, restrained by the superior wisdom of Lord Wellington, who argued, and justly, that a war of outposts could produce no effect on the general issues of the campaign; and that tranquillity was even more beneficial, under existing circumstances, to the Allies than to the enem3^ As soon, however, as he heard of the advance of Ney, he moved forward the British army, and taking up a new line, with his head- quarters at Celerico, communicated easily, from the left bank of the Agueda, mth the town. No entreaties, however, from the Spanish Grovernment, no remonstrances on the part of Greneral Crawfurd, could move him to risk anything in order to drive the French away. He knew that though this might be done, it could not be done without loss ; and that nothing, not even the removal of immediate pressure from lack of provisions, could be gained by it for the garrison. For the enemy were so superior in numbers, that whenever they should determine seriously to attack the place, it was quite out of his power to prevent them ; and while his communications lay still open with the town, he was able to send in supplies, and actually did send them in as late as the night of the 10th of June. L 3 156 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1810. On the 1st of June the total strength of the British army in Portugal was 25,000 rank and file, of whom 3261 were cavalry. Of these 5.381 infantry, 449 cavalry were with Hill in Alentejo. About 2000 infantry were in Lisbon, still weak from the effects of the Walcheren fever; leaving in Beira about 17,000, of which 14,000 only were infantry. The Portuguese army had increased to 29,000 effectives. But after deducting regiments in garrison, regiments unfit for field operations, two battalions of the Lusita- nian Legion, quite useless, and 6500 of all arms with Hill, there remained to act with Wellington, not more than 14,000 at the utmost. He . could thus bring into line, about 32,000 men, as opposed to 57,000 ; being the strength of the united corps of Ney and Junot. After exhausting every artifice in order to lead Wellington into an indiscreet advance, Massena, in the first week of June, formally invested Ciudad Eodrigo. He pressed the siege with vigour, and in the night between the 15th and 16th, opened his first parallel. It was to no purpose that Wellington sent urgent requests to the Spanish general, Mahy, to put his own, and any other divisions which might be within reach, in motion. Nothing was done to harass the enemy in the rear, and their heavy guns were all brought up unmolested, under a feeble escort from Salamanca. On the other hand. Lord Wellington was himself urged by the Portu- guese Kegency, by the Spanish Grovernment, and even by the mur- murs of his own troops, to hazard a battle. He steadily refused, replying to Don Meguel Torjas in these dignified terms : " I should be neglectful of my duty to the King, to the Prince Eegent, and the common cause, if I could permit myself to be influenced by public clamour, or by fear, so as to modify the system of operations which I have adopted after matm-e deliberation, and which daily experience proves to be the only one which can bring the matter to a successful issue." Firmness like this, more rare by far than the courage which leads men to confront death without flinching, finds but one parallel in history. " If you are a great general," said Sylla to Marius, " come and fight me." *'If you are a great general," replied Marius to Sylla, " compel me to fight." Though fixed in his determination to run no unnecessary risks, Wellington removed his head-quarters on the 25th to Almeida, whence, in order to be more in the centre of his own troops, now close to the scene of action, he transferred them on the 1st of July to Alverca. The country all round was well adapted for cavalry, an arm in which the enemy were four times as strong as himself ; and this, added to their great superiority in other respects, entirely prevented his hazarding any sudden blow. Nothing 1810. CRAWFUKD ON THE COA. lol remained for him, therefore, except to maintain as threatening an attitude as possible; which, however, did not interrupt the progress of the siege ; — and on the 1 1th the place surrendered. A sort of pause ensued after this till the 18th, when Eegnier, in obedience to orders issued some time previously, passed the Tagus, a move which was counteracted immediately by drawing Hill across the same river. Thus Hill and Eegnier continued to face one another in Lower Beira, while in Upper Beira the main armies stood like j)ieces upon a chess-board, waiting till the minds of the plaj^ers should be made up in regard to their game. On the 24th of July, Crawfurd, with the Light Division, six guns, and a regiment of Hussars, held the outposts beyond the Coa, between Ciudad Eodrigo and Almeida. His orders were to be very vigilant, but not to light or to expose his position. But Crawfurd believed himself to be as good a judge of circumstances as his chief, and having once or twice repelled attacks which were not serious, he unfortunately ventured to receive one which was serious enough. Ney suddenly fell upon him with 24,000 infantry, 5000 cavalry, and 30 guns, and endeavoured to interpose between him and Almeida, and to drive him into the deep valley of the Coa. Ci'awfurd was cool and brave, and the division which he com- manded has never been surpassed for these qualities since regular armies took the iield. He, therefore, made up in some degree by the obstinacy and skill of his defence, for the blunder which he had committed in suffering himself to be drawn into a battle. At a great expense of life, though without losing a gun, he gained the bridge of Almeida, and by sheer dint of hard lighting, stopped the enemy from crossing after him. That night, however, Lord Wel- lington withdrew him, causing the division which occupied Pinhel to fall back at the same time ; and the army was placed in a new line between Gruarda and Francoso. Lord Wellington's reason for taking up this position was, that the enemy had not yet fully developed his plan. He invested Almeida, no doubt, as soon as the bridge became open to him ; but he made no immediate preparations to besiege the place. Till he should be fairly committed to that enterprise, it was impossible to guess whether his real blow would be struck on the east or on the west of the Estecha ridge, and both sides must in conse- quence be guarded. At last, however, Massena laid aside further reserve. On the loth of August his trenches were opened, and on the 26th a shell took effect in the principal magazine, and blew it up. It is by no means clear that the loss occa- sioned by that explosion was very serious. Accounts vaiy in L 4 152 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLmGTO:;r. 1810. regard to that point, but all are agreed in representing the spirit which animated the garrison at the moment as verybad. They went to the governor in a tumultuous manner, and required him to surrender ; which, after vainly endeavouring to resist their violence, he was forced, on the 28th, to do. Five thousand unwounded men laid down their arms on the glacis ; the militia returning to their own country, and one regiment of regular infantry taking service with the French. The fall of Almeida gave a deep wound to the self-respect of the Anglo-Portuguese army. It created also a feeling of bitter indio-nation in Lisbon. Wellington himself was greatly annoyed by it: for he had counted on a prolonged resistance, and was preparing either to compel Massena to raise the siege, or at all events to withdraw the garrison. It was accepted by Massena as a fortunate event, for already he had begun to be straitened in the matter of supplies. An excellent base was, moreover, se- cured for further operations, and he lost no time in entering upon them. Instead, however, of keeping to the left of the Mondego, and pressing the English who had begun immediately to fall back, he turned off at Celerico, and made by a longer and very indifferent road, through Viseu towards Coimbra. If his object was to secure the provisions and stores accumulated there, he had miscalculated distances. Wellington, calling in Hill and Leith, who with a reserve, chiefly of Portuguese troops, had watched the course of the Tao-us, got together on the Alva about 50,000 men of all arms, of which 24,000 were English, and felt himself strong enough either to fight a battle, or to continue his retreat without fighting, as circumstances might suggest. Massena had committed a great fault against himself in selecting the Viseu road. It was not only longer and more difficult than that on the left of the Mondego, but it broke his communications with his proper rear, and left him no time to establish others. His stragglers were in consequence cut off, and his convoys ha- rassed by frequent attacks from the militia. But he was still more cruelly treated by Soult. It formed part of Napoleon's plan for the conquest of Portugal, that Soult should at this juncture pass from Andalusia into Estremadura, and dispersing Eomana's army, should advance along the left of the Tagus, with 30,000 men upon Lisbon. Eomana's Spaniards had indeed greatly facilitated this operation. They permitted themselves to be attacked in detail by Mortier, and after their defeat could scarcely bring 5000 men into line. Soult, however, was out of humour, and affecting to regard the siege of Cadiz as a measure more important than any march through Estremadura, he left Massena, under whom he did 1810. rOSITION OF BUSACO. 153 not care to serve, to win or to lose the great game, as he best might, with his own army. Arrived at the Mondego, Wellington had it in his power, either to fall back upon the lines of Torres Vedras, or to accept a battle should it be offered him, by disputing the passage of the river. He preferred the latter course, chiefl}^, as he himself informs us, because it had become necessary in order to keep up the spirits of his army. But other and equally valid reasons Aveighed with him. The orders issued for laying waste the country, had been imperfectly attended to, and there remained only the alternative of insisting either that the people themselves should be compelled by the civil magistrates to destroy their own property, or to destroy it by the protecting army as it passed along. This would have exposed the English general as well as his troops to much obloquy, so he seized on the position along the ridges of the Sierra de Busaco, and there determined to make a stand. The position of Bvisaco consisted of a range of precipitous heights, intersected here and there with valleys, through one of which runs the great road from Viseu to Coimbra. It might measure from the convent of St. Antonio on the right to a village called Metheada on the left, about four miles, or perhaps something- more ; and for purposes purely defensive, it possessed many advan- tacres. But it was too extensive for the whole of Wellington's army united; and on the 25th, when barely one half were in line, it presented many gaps. Of these Ney, who arrived first upon the ground, was eager to avail himself. Pie had 40,000 men under his orders, and proposed immediately to attack. But Massena, who had halted three leagues in rear, expecting no opposition in front of Coimbra, refused to sanction the proceeding. Junot, with the 8th corj)s, was not yet come up, and he considered it imprudent to risk a battle with a divided army. Next day a council of war was held at his head-quarters, when Ney, who had been eager to fight on the 25th, expressed a strong opinion that it was now too late. But no voice supported his, and orders were issued to attack at dawn on the 27th. There had been a good deal of skirmishing throughout the 26th, the sound of which reached Hill and Leith while still upon their march. It animated their men to fresh exertions, so that stepping out with good will, regiment after regiment took its proper place in the line, just before sundown. Hill, placed upon the extreme right, guarded the debouches of the valleys. Leith took ground next him, then Picton, then Spencer, and then Crawfurd. Cole held the left with his division, and the mass of the cavalry was near him on the plain. Finally 50 pieces of cannon planted on 154 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1810. points most favourable for their action, commanded every approacli to the position. It was a formidable array. INIeanwhile Junot had come up, and Massena prepared to attack that frowning ridge with 56,000 infantry, 8000 cavalry and 80 guns. Two columns, each consisting of a corps d'armee, were to advance against it ; one from behind the Convent of St. Antonio along the Viseu road, the other through a valley separated from the Viseu road by an inaccessible ridge. The third corps was placed in reserve, and the cavalry concealed itself, as much as pos- sible in order to take advantage of any contingency that might arise. This order of battle was open to one grave objection ; the columns of attack could not support each other. But perhaps a heavier charge against Massena was this, that he permitted the whole of the 26th to pass without ascertaining whether it might not be possible to turn a position, a direct assault on which could not be attempted without great sacrifice of life. And when the battle began, it is certain, that from some cause or another, he made very imperfect use of his artillery. The French columns went to their work, as in those days French columns always did. That directed by Eegnier and led by Loison, forced its way up the slope, and gained the plateau between the divisions of Spencer and Picton. But it was yet in the act of deploying when the English charged ; and it was swept back into the plain with a loss of 2500 men. A similar fate befel Ney's corps, which received from Craw- furd such rough handling that, like Eegnier's, it never succeeded in forming line, but was hurled over precipices at the point of the bayonet, after suffering frightfully by a close and well-directed fire of musketry and cannon. The French admitted the loss, in these attacks, of 4500 men ; that of the English amounted to no more than 197 killed, 1014 wounded, and 58 missing. But the great gain to the English from the en- counter lay in the increased confidence which it produced in them- selves, and still more in the allies who fought beside them. For the conduct of the Portuguese troops had been excellent throughout the day ; and Wellington in his despatch took care to describe it in the most flattering terms. On the other hand the French became from that hour infinitely more respectful towards their opponents than they had previously been. The effects of ^ the English successes on the Douro and at Talavera seemed to culminate in the victory of Busaco ; and Massena, who never from the first appears to have counted on an easy triumph, lost heart altogether. He seemed to have no choice, except between a protracted halt at the foot of Acabar,in an exhausted country, and an immediate retreat into Spain. 1810. MASSENA MOVES TO THE EIGHT. 155 Perhaps he would have determined best for his own reputation as well as for the general cause, had he followed the latter course ; to which, indeed, Ney strongly urged him. But no man likes, at the head of a good armj^, to yield to the first reverse. Suspecting from the lie of the country, that there must be some road,- by which the left of the English position could be turned, he sent ovit, after night-fall, Greneral Montbrun with some cavalry -to reconnoitre ; and these having reported next morning that such a road existed, he availed himself with his usual ability of the advantages which it offered. His tirailleurs swarmed around the bases of the Busaco hills, a battery or two were pushed forward, and every disposition made as if for a renewal of the struggle. But in the night of the 28th the whole army filed off to its right, and when morning dawned nothing could be seen on the ground which it had occupied, except smouldering fires, and the wrecks of the battle of the 27th. Of the defile into which Massena now turned, communicating with the great road between Oporto and Coimbra, Wellington had not been forgetful. It was barely passable for wheel carriages, and a few miles in advance of the village of Sordao, mid-way between Ovar and Coimbra, could be blocked with ease, by a handful of de- termined men. Thither, therefore, Wellington, as soon as he had made up his mind to stand fast at Busaco, du-ected Colonel Trant, with his Portuguese militia, to proceed; but Trant, misled by false reports as to the situation of the enemy, made a long detour, and arrived at the point assigned to him too late. Military critics blame Lord Wellington for intrusting so delicate an operation to a brigade of raw militia, and he has been still further censured because, being instructed that Trant was yet in the rear, he did not detach a corps from his o^vn army on the 27 th, and seize with it the Sierra de Coramula. In his own account of the affau' he justifies both pro- ceedings; the first on the ground that looking always to the occupation of the lines of Torres Vedras, he could not afford the risk of being separated from a portion of the force on which he had counted for holding them ; the second because even after the battle, the enemy were still his superiors by 12,000 or 14,000 men; and in the face of such superiority it would have been madness to send away a strong corps, on a service which only a strong corps could hope to execute successfully. Whether right or wrong in regard to these points, Wellington no sooner ascertained that Massena was in possession of the road to Coimbra than he abandoned the position of Busaco, and began to fall back. His retreat was conducted in perfect order, and without the slightest hurry. The great mass of the population moved in front of him, carrying such of their goods as they hat]. 156 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON". 1810. means to convey, and destroying the rest ; so that the country in his rear, as his men turned their backs upon it, became as it were, a desert. Not that this was done to the full extent which the circum- stances of the time required. His plan of defence, though adopted in name, -had never been cordially approved by the Eegency ; and the people yielding in many instances to feelings which were not unnatural, remained in their houses hoping thereby to preserve their property. This was done chiefly out of the direct route which the retreating army followed ; but all along the line of march bridges broken down, villages abandoned, grain burnt, or thrown out upon the wayside to rot, vouched for the spirit of determined resistance with which the invasion was met. On the 8th of October, having been little pressed and seldom engaged, except with his rear guard of cavalry, Wellington entered the lines of Torres Vedras. He carried with him, in all, about 25,000 or 26,000 British troops, which, in the course of that and the following month, in- creased to 29,000. The Portuguese, inclusive of artillery, amounted to 24,000; while 5000 Spaniards, under the Marques de laEomana, came in from Estremadura, and raised his effective force to some- where about 60,000. Looking to the composition of a portion of that army, and to the extent of the position which it was called upon to guard, this was not much. And hence, it has been argued by Lord Londonderry among others, that had Massena resolutely attacked, on the 10th or 11th, when he came up, the chances of success would have been in his favour. But matters did not present themselves in this light to the French marshal. His losses during the campaign had been enormous. From deaths or wounds and sickness, 20,000 men at least were absent from their colours, leav- ing him with about 50,000 or 55,000 at the most whom he coiild carry into action. Besides, the apparition of the enemy's fortified camp took him quite by surprise. He had never heard that a beginning was made to so gigantic a work. He counted on nothing more than, perhaps, another battle, on fair terms, pre- viously to his entrance into Lisbon. He was in no humour, therefore, to rush headlong on an enterprise, which the first glance convinced him must be a desperate one. On the contrary, after closely reconnoitring the various roads and passes, and observing the care with which they were all barred, he came to the conclu- sion, that the means at his disposal were inadequate to force them ; and the same evening he despatched Greneral Foy under escort, to report the state of the case at Paris, and to request from the Emperor fresh instructions, with as strong a reinforcement as could be spared. 1810. MASSENA BEFOEE THE LINES. 157 CHAP. xir. MASSENA BEFOEE THE LINES. — HIS RETEEAT. — "WELLINGTON ON THE GTTADIANA. — BATTLE OE EUENTES DE HONOEO. — FERST SIEGE OF BADAJOZ. — BATTLE OF ALBTJEEA. Feom this date up to the middle of November, the respective positions of the hostile armies were as follows: — Wellington held the extensive line, of which we have elsewhere given a description, with his right upon the Tagus, and his left stretched away to the mouth of the Zezandra; Massena placed his left at Villa Nova, situated on the Tagus, and his right at Alenquer. Junot's corps he pushed forward to Sobral, which Crawfurd, after a sharp skirmish, gave up to him, while a portion of his cavalry he stationed in observation of the Tagus in his rear, and to keep open his communica- tions with Santarem. Beyond that point, however, till he esta- blished a post on the Zezere at Punhete, he had no hold whatever on the country. For his movement froin beyond Coimbra was scarce begun, ere Wilson and Miller, and other leaders of irregular bands, broke in upon his line of march ; and attacking his stragglers, and making prisoners of his sick, rendered it impossible to send a dispatch as far as Ciudad Eodrigo, except under the protection of a regular column. Marshal Marmont, in his memoirs, gives a graphic account of the perplexity of the French army, and of its leader, at this time. He speaks of four courses as open to JMassena, and is surprised that he followed none of them. 1. He might have risked an immediate attack; 2. He might have retired to Almeida and Ciudad Eodrigo at once ; 3. He might have marched upon Oporto, and held his ground on the right bank of the Douro ; or, 4. He might have passed the Tagus, penetrated into Alentejo, seized the mouth of the river opposite Lisbon, thereby interrupting the navigation, and occupied an imexhausted country, till he should be in force enough to recross, and operate vigorously. It is clear, however, that by the adoption of either of the three first plans, Massena must have abandoned, at all events for the time, the object which he was instructed to effect. It is by no means certain that by following the last he could have materially promoted that object. The Tagus is too wide where it separates 158 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON". 1810. Lisbon from Estremadura, for such artillery as was then in use seriously to incommodate its navigation. And Abrantes being in the hands of the English, his o\vn communications with the opposite bank could never be secured. Besides, so far as concerned the regular supply, both of the city and the camp, that could hardly be cut off, while Belem and Fort St. Julian, and other stations along the coast, were open to the British fleet. His fault, therefore, if he committed any, was in loitering before an enter- prise, which he felt from the first to be hopeless ; and that was but a perseverance in the error of judgment which induced him subsequently to the battle of Busaco to push on. The truth is that Massena felt himself involved in difficulties from which there was no escape, and be made a fatal mistake in not yielding to them before they became intolerable. "WTiile such were the views entertained by the more thinking portions of the French army, in England, in Lisbon, and every- where else, except at Wellington's head-quarters, the game was supposed to be lost to the Allies. In England, a feeble Govern- ment, assailed continually by an active and unscrupulous opposi- tion, was seriously considering when the time should come for withdrawing from the contest. So early, indeed, as Wellington's concentration in the position of Beira, Lord Liverpool had written to him on the subject, besides beginning a letter to an engineer officer at Belem in these words : " As it is probable that the army will embark in September." Yet with strange inconsistency the same minister entreated Lord Wellington to economise the expenses of the war, by sending home as many empty transports as possible ; and that, too, at a moment when Wellington, mind- ful of even improbable contingencies, was desiring the admiral in command on the station, to place an increased amount of tonnage at his disposal. Meanwhile, the Grovernments both of Portugal and Spain thwarted him at every turn. The former had ill- executed the part which it undertook to play before the campaign opened. It not only made no attempt to enforce the devastation of the country between the frontier and the lines, but it en- couraged the inhabitants to evade the order, a proceeding which threw in Massena's way no inconsiderable amount of supplies, and enabled him to hold for months a position which, under other circumstances, could not have been tenable for a fortnight. And now the outcry was raised that instead of carr}dng the war, as an abler and more patriotic general would have done, into the heart of Spain, Wellington was bringing it unnecessarily home to the vicinity of the Portuguese capital. Wellington did not affect to conceal his indignation. He applied openly to the Court of 1810. WELLINGTON IN THE LINES. 159 Brazil for the support wliich its representative in Europe had ceased to afford him. He wrote also in the strongest terms both to the Portuguese minister of war, and to the representative of the British Crown in Lisbon. " I beg of you to inform your Grovernment," he said to the former, " that I will not remain in this country to be so treated, and that I shall advise the British Government to withdraw the assistance which His Majesty has given to Spain." " I pray you," he added in a communication addressed not long afterAvards to Mr. Stuart, " to inform the Eegency, and above all the principal Souza, that his Majesty and the Prince Eegent, having entrusted to me the command of their armies and the exclusive conduct of military affairs, I will not permit any person to interfere with them. I know well enough where to place my troops and how to make them take up a position against the enemy ; and nothing which they can say will induce me to change the plan which I have adopted after mature deliberation. * * The chief things which I ask of the Portuguese Eegency are that they will keep Lisbon quiet, and supply their own troops with provisions as long as they shall serve in Portugal." To keep Lisbon quiet, would have been at this juncture a task of some difficulty to the best disposed government. The people could not think without bitterness of their ruined homes, and of their fields devastated by their own hands ; and they not unnaturally looked with an unfriendly eye on the chief, whose reasons for exacting so great a sacrifice they were scarcely able to appreciate. But when they found their proper leaders denouncing the English system as intolerable, they gave vent to their indignation, some- times in a very alarming manner. English officers and soldiers were insulted in the streets, and more than one case of assassi- nation occurred. Lord Wellington, however, overbore all opposition. He compelled the Eegency to observe, at least, the outward sem- blance of decency. He threatened to put the country under military law ; and though all his requisitions were not attended to, he managed to get for the Portuguese troops a portion of the food which they required, and to stop desertion which had set in with extreme violence. If the Portuguese gave him at this time but indifferent support, the Spaniards appeared entirely to break down. All their armies were beaten in detail ; indeed, except in Cadiz and one or two places in the south, the only opposition now offered to the invaders, was by bands of guerillas. Why Soult failed to im- prove the opportunity, and uniting himself with Massena, strike a blow for the conclusion of the war, has never been explained. There was nothing either in Audalusia or Estremadura to stop him, 160 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1810. and against the risk of being harassed by General Graham in the rear, sufficient precaution might have been taken by calling up Joseph from Seville with as many troops as could be spared, and con- verting the siege of Cadiz into a blockade. But between Massena and Soult there was no better feeling than between any two others of Napoleon's marshals, and to the indulgence of personal jealousy all considerations of the public good were sacrificed. Soult would not help Massena to achieve a triumph which he considered ought to have been reserved for himself. Besides these drawbacks, arising in a great degree out of the national character of his allies, Wellington was exposed at this time to serious inconvenience, first through want of money, which continued to be forwarded from England with a niggard hand ; and next because of the ill-judged eagerness of the English Govern- ment to open prematurely a direct trade between Great Britain and Spanish South America. " I do not receive," he wrote to Lord Liverpool, " 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 everybody, and cannot command the commonest necessaries, unless I follow the example of the enemy and take what I require with the strong hand." But this manner of proceeding, 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 himself to remedy this evil as well as he could ; and by establish- ing a sort of paper currency and encouraging American sliips to bring corn into the Tagus, he managed to keep his army, and even the inhabitants of Lisbon, supjDlied at a time, when, but for his exertions, they must have equally starved. His troubles in regard to the trade with Spanish America were not so easily surmounted. Some of these colonies were already in revolt, others were kept from revolting only by the presence of Spanish troops ; but all alike demanded freedom of commerce with England, to persevere in which they received from English mer- chants every encouragement. Now it was contrary to the Spanish colonial system to authorise commercial relations between South America and Europe, except through Spanish ports ; and hence the Eegency, after much time lost in deliberation, determined to employ force in order to bring the colonies to order. The con- sequence was that supplies furnished by England for operations against the common enemy, were diverted by Spain to objects of coercion on the other side of the Atlantic. It was to no purpose that Wellington protested against the proceeding. His letters were treated with indifference, while the English Govern- 1810. SPAIN AXD HER COLOXIES. 161 ment was openly charged with inciting the colonists to violate the law, and even to throw off their allegiance to the mother country. This was a grave embarrassment, and but for the excellent management of Lord Wellesley, then British Minister for Foreign Affairs, it might have led to an open rupture between the two countries. The view which Lord Wellington took of the whole question, he has admirably expressed in a letter to his brother. He opposed the demand of the Kegency, that England should assist Spain by force of arms in reducing the colonies ; and he was equally averse to the establishment of free trade between these colonies and Eng- land, so long as the war with Napoleon should continue. " What- ever," he says, " may be the relations which are ultimately estab- lished between Spain and her colonies, the general result must be to diminish, if not to extinguish, the foreign commerce of the Peninsula, a circumstance from which it is certain that Great 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, therefore, 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 at- tempt. 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." Even thus early Lord Wellington foresaw that the severance of their colonies from the mother country was become a mere question of time. Too loyal, however, on the one hand to encourage rebel- lion, too wise on the other to countenance a hopeless struggle, he desired for England the work of a mediator only : and he felt that she could not assume that dignified position, so long, as for her own aggrandisement, she connected herself with that party in the dispute which was openly violating the law as it then stood. In dealing with these questions, and with many more which arose out of them, such as the national antipathy between the Portuguese and the Spaniards, and the impatience of his own go- vernment for action in some shape or another. Lord Wellington had more to do than almost any other man would have attempted, during the weeks in which his army and that of Massena faced . one another. 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 the Portuguese Kegency, it would become necessary for him to assume the offensive. His better judgment, however, prevailed, and he abstained from risking a M 162 MEMOIR OP THE DUKE OP WELLINGTON. ISIO. battle. His reasoning, as expressed in various letters to the Gro- vernment 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 would compromise us altogether. Besides, looking to what occurred after the last campaign, I do not see that our condition will be materially bettered by the evacution of these provinces. When Castillo 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 interests do not require that we should fight the French army, which we should certainly 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 offensive 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 Grovernment, or anything else . which affects our security, it is a matter of indifference to us whe- ther they remain in Spain or Portugal. I believe, indeed, looking to the increased difficulties which they experience in subsisting themselves in the latter country and keeping open their commu- nications, that it is of advantage to us that they should remain where they are. Their numbers 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 cannot be called in question, 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 Wellington's attack, if made at all, must be made without artillery. The enemy's posi- tion 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 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. It came at last. 1810. MASSEJN'A SHIFTS IIIS GEOUND. 1G3 From the day of his arrival before the lines, Massena had begun to suffer. Carrying no supplies with him, he soon eat up all that could be found in the immediate vicinity of his camp, and was then driven to collect what he could from a distance by em- ploying whole battalions in organised plunder. His horses died for lack of forage ; his men, ill-fed and worse clothed, filled the hospitals ; his very medicines ran short, for his communications with Spain were broken, except to columns of force. At last he found it necessary, in consequence of the approach of winter, to shift his position. But this was an operation which involved some risk, for he had a vigilant and active enemy to deal with, and if effected at all, it must be effected warily. Towards the end of October he accordingly removed his hospital stores and baggage quietly into Santarem. In the night of the 14th the troops at Sobral were put in motion towards the same place; and they conducted their march with such skill, that not till the sun had dispersed the mists which covered the plain on the loth, were the English made aware that they were moving. It happened that when first seen they had got entangled among defiles, where if promptly assailed they must have suffered terribly. But Welling- ton did not conceive that even to accomplish that object he would have been justified in deviating from the plan upon which he had determined to act. He followed them, therefore, with two divisions only, at a respectful distance, and suffered them to escape from perhaps the most perilous situation in which, since the opening of the campaign, they had placed themselves. The new position taken up by Massena was admirably chosen. It enabled him to hold Santarem, which he fortified, and to restore his own communications with Spain, by throwing a bridge across the Zezere at Punhete. The Tagus protected his left, while his cavalry rendered the open country on his right perfectly secure. Lord Wellington, who at first imagined that the French were in full retreat, and that a rear-guard only was left in Santarem, re- connoitred that place with a view to attack it ; but finding that it was strongly entrenched, and that the enemy was there in force, he abandoned his purpose, and falling back to Cartajo established his head-quarters there. The attitudes thus assumed by the hostile armies were main- tained throughout the winter. Wellington would risk nothing, because he knew perfectly well that a check, be it ever so trifling, must overthrow the English administration, give the ascendency to his enemies in the Portuguese Kegency, and probably lead to his own recall. He continued, however, to strengthen the lines of Torres Vedras, and in order to seciu-e both banks of the Tagus, he M 2 164 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1811. caused a chain of works to be constructed between Aldea Grallega and Setubal on the opposite shore. Massena meanwhile waited for instructions from Paris, and busied himself in making prepara- tions for the siege of Abrantes. At last his instructions ai-rived. G-eneral Foy, returning on the 5th of February, informed him that no reinforcements could be expected from France; that the Emperor was preparing for that struggle with Eussia which in its results proved fatal to him ; and that Massena was expected to finish the war in the Peninsula with the force already at his disposal. The Emperor had however directed Soult to march upon the Tagus with 20,000 men, and to co-operate in the siege of Abrantes. Meanwhile Drouet was to carry forward his two divisions, and to be supported by the Gruard under Dorsenne from Burgos, while Joseph, with all the troops which could be spared from Madrid, was to march upon Alcantara. Hence if he took care to con- struct bridges at various points, Massena would be able to con- centrate 80,000 men at least on both sides of the Tagus ; a force with which he might fairly hazard an assault upon the lines, be- cause success would at once put him in possession of Lisbon, while failure would impose upon him no harder necessity than to con- tinue the blockade which he had begun. These instructions, admirably conceived, met in their execution with serious obstructions. In the first place, materials and oppor- tunity were alike wanting for the construction of many bridges upon the Tagus. In the next place, Soult pleaded inability to march direct upon Abrantes ; while Drouet and Dorsenne together fiirnished only 9000 men, who when they arrived at Leiria brought with them little more than their arms. Still it was necessary for the sake of subsistence, that Massena should have access to Alen- tejo, and preparations were made to bridge the river, either at Punhete or at Santarem. But before these could be completed hunger and cold did their work. Massena, at the very moment when his prospects, in a purely military point of view, might be said to have begim to brighten, found himself under the necessity of withdrawing from the contest. Though Soult refused point blank to march direct upon Abrantes, he put so much restraint upon himself as to convert the siege of Cadia into a blockade, and to penetrate with 15,000 or 16,000 men into Estremadura. He began this operation on the 21st of De- cember, and the fortresses of Merida and Olivenja opened their gates to him without resistance. His next move was upon Badajos, which he approached with unnecessary caution ; and after defeating Balasteros and Mendezabel at Santa e Grracia, he formed the siege of the place. And here, again, he wasted some precioiLs days, con-- 1811. THE FRENCH WIN BAD A JOS. 165 ducting his approaches after the most approved rules of art, a praiseworthy proceeding when there is time to spare, but in moments of urgency not to be adhered to. He overthrew the Spanish armies on the 19th of January, and might have completed the investment of Badajos on the following day. It is more than probable that, if he had done so, the town would have surrendered immediately. As it was the governor, Don Jose de Imar, held out till the 11th of March, when, though no practicable breach had been effected, and though he had received intelligence through Elvas that an English corps was on its march to relieve him, he surrendered at discretion. Immediately on the fall of Badajos, Soult dispatched Mortier with one division to Campo Major, and Latour Mabourg with another to Albuquerque and to Valencia de Alcantara. He himself returned to Cadiz, where his presence was urgently required ; yet in spite of these successes, his expedition failed. It had been begun a fortnight too late, and it was never pushed with the alacrity and spirit which Massena's critical position and a due regard to the object of the war ought to have ensured. While these things were going on, Wellington, for whom rein- forcements from England had arrived, determined to attack Mas- sena in his position. He proposed to fall upon the enemy in front from Tamames, while Beresford should move up the left of the Tagus, and get into his rear through Abrantes. But before his arrangements could be completed Massena was already in full retreat. On the evening of the 4th of March he sent away his sick and heavy baggage, having previously made ostentatious pre- parations as if for the purpose of bridging the Tagus, and passing it at Punhete. This done, and the enemy's attention being at- tracted elsewhere, the corps which lay in Santarem broke up late in the evening of the 5th, and doubled back upon Thomar and Espenhal. At the same time the troops from Tremes and Alcan- hade marched upon Penes, while Ney took post at Leiria, with a view to check the English in the direction of Sez, and to threaten their lines at Torres Vedras. Massena determined to retire upon Coimbra, whence, passing through an unexhausted country, he could place himself at Oporto, and wait there till Soult should have drawn Lord Wellington into Estremadura, and Bessieres with the army of the north had entered again upon offensive ope- rations. These skilful manoeuvres kept Wellington some days in sus- pense. Too -prudent to uncover his lines till he felt that he could do so with impunity, he waited till the enemy should develope his plans, and contented himself with patrolling as far as Santarem, M 3 166 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1811. which he entered on the 6th. From that point he sent off a mes- senger to the Grovernor of Badajos, informing him of Massena's retreat, and assuring him of speedy succour from a column which actually began its march on the 8th. How little worthy of trust the Grovernor of Badajos proved to be we have already shown. It will be seen by and by at what a fearful cost of life his treachery or cowardice was atoned for. By this time the object of Massena's evolutions had become clear to Lord Wellington, and he determined, if possible, to defeat it. Both armies accordingly marched upon Coimbra; but the French, having a start of three days, were not overtaken till their rear-guard had entered Pombal. Here a sharp encounter took place, which was succeeded next day by a more serious affair at Redinha. Ney had so ably disposed his corps on some rising ground in front of the village, that Wellington believed the whole French army to be in his front, and halted till he had gathered a considerable force, with which to give battle. But the enemy, almost as soon as the attack began, gave way, and the village and a bridge which crossed the small river in rear of the village, were carried with great gallantry. Massena's head-quarters were by this time at Condixa, within two hours' march or less of the Mondego. He had sent Montbrun forward to seize the bridge, and to secure thereby his entrance into Coimbra. But Trant with his militia was in the town, and after breaking down the bridge he made such an excellent show, that Montbrun, mistaking the Portuguese for English troops, returned whence he came, and reported that the road was barred. This was a terrible blow to Massena, but believing the statement to be correct, he perceived that only one of two courses lay open to him : either he must risk a battle at Condixa, or continue his retreat by miserable roads to Marcelha, and thence by Foz de Orenze through the narrow spit of land which lies between the mountains and the Mondego. No time was allowed him for de- liberation. The English were close at his heels, and so, fearing to risk a general action on ground where defeat must have been tantamount to destruction, he hastily broke up, and sacrificing baggage and ammunition, and even guns, pursued his march towards Marcelha. The retreat of the French army was well conducted ; the columns held together, and the rear guard proved vigilant and active. But the barbarities committed by the men in all the towns and villages through which they passed were frightful. Torres Novas, Thomar, and Penes were sacked ; Leiria and the convent of Alcobasa, by far the most stately ecclesiastical edifice in Portugal, were com- 1811. MASSENAS RETEEAT. 1G7 mitted to the flames ; and in the district or county of Coi'mbra alone, upwards of 3000 persons were put to death. But if the retreat was skilfully managed, the pursuit was pressed with equal tenacity and determination. The enemy's rear became constantly engaged with Wellington's advance, and all the strong positions taken up by the former, the latter, by well-combined flank move- ments and vigorous attacks, carried or turned. One of these affairs, which cost the enemy dear, occurred on the evening of the 15th of March. Ney, having withdrawn part of his corps across the Ceira, at Foz d'Arunce, left two divisions on the other side to cover the march of the baggage. These were fiercely assailed by the English, who got round them on both flanks, and would have cut them to pieces, but that Ney exhibited in the melee even more than his accustomed hardihood. He rallied the fugitives, became in his turn the assailant, and, aided by the growing darkness, suc- ceeded in keeping his ground till the baggage was saved. He then withdrew, breaking down the bridge after him. If the Ceira had been fordable, which it was not, the late rains having greatly swollen it, Wellington would have found it impos- sible, except with light troops, to continue his forward movement on the 1 6th. He had far outstripped his supplies, and being con- strained to halt till these should overtake him, he concentrated the bulk of his army near the Sierra de Boita. Meanwhile the enemy pursued their march to Gruarda, plundering and burning as they went. It is due to the memory of Massena to state that the outrages of which his troops were guilty greatly distressed him. He issued repeated orders, calling upon his officers to maintain discipline among their men. But starving men cannot be re- strained from seeking food, and the habit of marauding, even when induced by hunger, leads to atrocities of every kind. It is certain, moreover, that even from some of his lieutenants he did not re- ceive the support which he had a right to expect ; Ney in particular became so insubordinate, that in spite of the ability which he had displayed in managing the rear-guard, Massena was obliged to deprive him of his command and to send him away. M. Thiers, in his history of the Consulate and the Empire, informs us that, after a brief halt at Guarda, Massena intended to march upon Alcantara, and to establish communications through the valley of the Tagus with Joseph, and on the south side of the river with Souit. The wisdom of such an undertaking may be ques- tioned, because his army was not in a condition to enter without refitting upon a fresh campaign. Its numbers were much reduced, and its discipline was greatly shaken. Besides, all the accounts received from Estremadura described tliat province as quite ex- H 4 168 MEMOIE OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1811. hausted, and neither Ciudad Eodrigo nor Almeida was provisioned against a month's blockade. But whether Lent upon this fresh effort or not, no time was afforded him for maturing his plans. The English having received their supplies, were again upon the move, and threading the defiles of the Gruarda Mountains, showed themselves on the 29th in five columns in front of his position. He did not wait to dispute the ground with them. Throwing out a strong rear guard, he withdrew across the Coa, and took post near Sabugal, where he was immediately attacked. A sharp action followed, which, owing to mismanagement by the leaders of some of the English columns, proved less decisive than it ought to have been. But it gave an opportunity to the Light Division greatly to distin- guish itself, and cost the French a good many men, as well as one of their few remaining pieces of artillery. This was Massena's last offensive effort on the Portuguese soil ; he withdrew at the close of the affair into Ciudad Eodrigo, whence he proceeded, not long afterwards, with his shattered army to Salamanca. There remained now to the enemy on the northern frontier of Portugal, only a single post, Almeida, which Massena had not been able to revictual, and which was known to be without pro- visions for more than a fortnight's consumption. It was imme- diately invested by one British division and a brigade of Portuguese infantry, and to cover the blockade Wellington took post with the rest of the army on the further side of the Coa. For a moment he appears to have thought of investing Ciudad Eodrigo at the same time, but besides that his numbers were insufficient for the two- fold operation, interrupted as it would certainly be by a forward movement on the enemy's part, information was received that just before the British patrols touched the river, Massena had suc- ceeded in throwing supplies of every kind into the place. The idea of acting against it was therefore abandoned, and the hostile armies enjoyed a few days of comparative rest. They were not days of rest to Wellington himself. Beresford's corps, though successful at Campo Major, had got into difficulties on the Guadiana, and Wellington set off in all haste to apply a remedy. He quitted Villa Formosa on the 14th, was at Elvas on the 20th, reconnoitred Badajos in company with Beresford on the 22nd, and was again on his way back to the frontiers of Castillo on the 25th. In that brief interval he had dra^vn in the Marshal from a dangerous position, too far in advance; had settled all the details of the coming siege, and made arrangements either for a steady perseverance in that operation, at the risk, if need arose, of fighting a battle, or for abandoning the project altogether, should the enemy approach in too much force. It was well that his 1811. MA'SSENA ASSUMES THE OFFENSIVE. 1G9 powers both of body and mind proved equal to such heavy demands upon them. The army which he had left in front of the Coa was already in danger, and he returned to it just in time to meet and ward off the blow when it fell. There were active spies on both sides throughout the Peninsular war, and Massena was soon informed of Wellington's journey into Alentejo. The opportunity appeared favourable for attempting the relief of Almeida, and it was not permitted to pass by. A few days' rest, with a refitment of guns, carriages, and horses, had rendered his army once more effective. It was strengthened by the coming in of various detachments, and especially of an excellent division of cavalry from Estremadura. And now sending instruc- tions to Marshal Bassieres to move up the Guard from Grallicia with as little delay as possible, he quitted his cantonments in and about Salamanca, and advanced towards the Agueda. The rains had fallen heavily for some time, and all the rivers were out. Bad roads also impeded Massena's march, and the Guard moved so slowly that it did not arrive at Ciudad Rodrigo till the 30th of April. The addition made to his force thereby, thongh important, was not great, for Bassieres, with the perverse - ness which at that time seemed universal among the French marshals, left the whole of his infantry behind. He came with only 1500 or 1600 horse, and six pieces of cannon in his train. But Massena, who was already superior in numbers to Lord Wel- lington in infantry, as much as two to one, in cavalry at least three to one, did not on that account abandon his project. He passed the Agueda on the 2nd of May, bringing with him a convoy of provisions for the beleaguered fortress. He found the English in a position which was strong in itself, but open to many and grave objections. It had been taken up for the purpose of covering the blockade ; with its left on the Al- meida road at the old Fort of Conception, its centre upon the high grounds, which overlook the Dos Cases river, and its right covered l)y the boggy woods of Pozzo-bello. Beyond these woods, and supported by an English division, lay Don Julian de Sanchez, occupying the hill of Narvez de Ave!, between which and the Coa was a space of broken ground considered to be impassable by regular troops. The whole force thus brought into line (for the division employed in the blockade was not moved) amounted to 28,142 infantry, of which 10,142 were Portuguese, and 1631 cavalry, 1331 being British. The front of the position was covered by the deep valley through which the Dos Cases nins. Another stream, the Torones, with banks equally steep, flowed parallel with the rear, while beyond it, and still further to the 170 MEMOIK OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. ]811. rear, ran the Coa. Its banks were precipitous and rough, and there was but one road of approach to it practicable for carriages, leading to the single bridge at Castel Bom, over which an army if defeated, could retire. It will be seen from this descrip- tion that Lord Wellington, though he stood upon ground strong in itself, was in a complete cul de sac. Massena's first design seems to have been to make himself master of the Castel Bom road. With this view he attacked the village of Fuentes d'Onoro, an advanced work, so to speak, of the English centre, a little before dawn on the third. The fighting- was severe all day long, each side feeding the troops engaged, as the need seemed to arise ; and at last when the sun went down, the lower portion of the village was occupied by the French, while the English continued to hold the upper with the gardens and enclosures adjoining to it. Not satisfied with this result, Massena changed his plan, and after devoting the fourth to a close recon- noissance of the whole field of battle, threw an enormous mass of infantry and cavalry, at dawn on the 5th, upon Don Julian de Sanchez, and upon the 7th English division which supported him. The Spaniards gave way at once, and the woods of Pozzo-bello were gradually forced, after which on the plateau above them, the French and English lines came fairly into collision. The latter being much outnumbered, especially in cavalry, fell back, till the Light Division under Greneral Crawfurd arrived to support them, when the French in their turn were compelled to give gTOund, and the slaughter on both sides was terrible. The order of battle was now a good deal changed. The English right thrown back en potence, stood fronting the Castel Bom road, with its extreme right at Frenada, and its left in communi- cation with Fuentes d'Onoro. Meanwhile both at Fuentes and Alameda some fighting took place, but it was partial and light, and the day wore on without either party having obtained any decided advantage over the other. At last, about five in the afternoon, Massena showed himself in person on his own left, for the avowed purpose of leading a desperate attack in that direction. But the men's ammunition proved to be expended, no supplies were at hand, and he found himself constrained to bivouac for the night on the ground where the last shots had been fired. A little time was all that Wellington required in order to place himself out of danger. His troops, wearied as they were, spent the night in throwing up field works, which, when morning dawned, the enemy showed no disposition to assail. On the con- trary, having been driven to consume the provisions which he had hoped to introduce into Almeida^ Massena abandoned his project 1811. ALMEIDA EVACUATED. 171 for the relief of the place. He contrived, however, on the evening of the 6th, to communicate with the governor, whom he directed to cut his way through the blockading corps, after blowing up the works ; and the same evening, without beat of drum, withdrew into Ciudad Rodrigo. The battle of Fuentes d'Onoro, though less decisive than perhaps any other in which Lord Wellington ever commanded, served every purpose for which it had been hazarded. Had there been greater vigilance in front of Almeida, it must have been followed by the immediate surrender of that place. But Greneral Brenier had arranged his plans well. The works were already mined ; he ex- ploded them about midnight on the 10th, and at the head of 1400 men forced a passage througli Greneral Campbell's pickets, and pushed for the Agueda. The troops sent in pursuit of him lost their way, and he was enabled, after a trifling skirmish, to make good his passage at the Barca del Puerco, and to join the 2nd corps on the other side. While these events were in progress on one side of the Tagus, Beresford on the other was conducting a campaign of his own. He invested Badajos according to the plan arranged for him by Lord Wellington, and applied himself to the business of the siege amid difficulties of no common order. In spite of Wellington's solicita- tions, the Spaniards had neglected to send down from Elvas the bridge of boats, and Beresford was in consequence reduced to the necessity of passing the Gruadiana on tressels. Meanwhile the enemy found time to fill up the trenches, and to close the breaches ; and the opportunity thereby lost of reducing the place by coiip de main, could never be recovered. It was the 4th of May before Badajos could be invested towards the south. Its communications with the open country towards the north were not cut off till the 8th. The besiegers were ill- furnished wdth artillery, ammunition, and stores, and their guns, served chielly by Portuguese recruits, made little impression. They could not open fire upon Fort St. Christoval earlier than the 1 1th, and were yet imperfectly under cover on the side of the Castle, when intelligence of Soult's approach came in. He had collected about 19,000 infantry and cavalry at Seville, and was advancing with rapid strides to relieve the place. Beresford upon this sent away his siege guns, destroying such of the stores as he found it impossible to remove, and then marched out with the main body of his force to meet the enemy. Blake and Castaiios, with two weak Spanish corps, lay at this time near Valverde. Beresford saw and conversed with them there, and having received an assurance that they would co-operate with 172 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1811. him, he took up a position, a little after noon on the 15th at Albuera. He was joined during the night by the Spaniards, and found himself at the head of about 30,000 men, of whom, however, only 7000 were English, and 10,000 Portuguese. The Portuguese were as yet far inferior to what they afterwards became, — the Spaniards were quite worthless. Ill-fed, ill-clothed, ill-commanded, their discipline was such as to render the simplest movement in the presence of an enemy, impracticable; yet to these raw troops, Beresford committed the defence of some high ground, which be- sides commanding the Valverde road, constituted the very key of his position on the right ; and placed them there without taking the precaution to throw up field works, behind which, being in- dividually brave, they might have maintained themselves. The position of Albuera was good in itself, but not judiciously occupied. Had Soult acted with vigour, and attacked it, as he might have done, on the afternoon of the 15th, he would have taken the Allies in the midst of their formations, and might have destroyed them. But it was Soult's great defect as a commander that he never executed with promptitude his own plans, which were almost always well-conceived. On the present occasion he gave his adversary some hours, which proved to be of the utmost possible importance to him. It was about nine in the morning of the 16th, when he directed Gerard's corps against the right of Beresford's line, and fell with that of Oudenot on the left. His cavalry connected these attacks, moving between the two columns. The Spaniards, badly placed at the outset, and incapable of an ordinar}? change of front, were driven from the heights. The Valverde road became thus uncovered, and would have been lost, but that Stewart's and Haughton's brigades closed up in that direction, and were ably supported by Dixon's guns and Lumley's dragoons. But the French being very superior in cavalry, fell upon these troops, and compelled them to give ground, enveloping in the pursuit Beresford himself, who did not escape from the crowd without coming into personal collision with some of the enemy's horsemen. At this critical moment when the battle appeared to be lost. Cole's division which had been left to observe Badajos, arrived upon the ground. One brigade, the Fusileer Brigade, was led with great promptitude by Colonel Hardiuge into action, and its on- slaught managed with admirable skill, proved so determined, that opposition went down before it. The enemy's columns never found time to deploy; they were decimated by the iire of these battalions, which advanced upon them in echelon of lines, while Dixon's guns, at an interval of a few hundred yards, swept them through and 1811. BATTLE OF ALBUEEA. 173 through with canister. After an ineffectual attempt to spread out, they broke and fled, leaving the heights in possession of 1500 British infantry, all that remained unhurt out of 6000. Soult felt that he was beaten, so did his men. They belonged to rejjiments which till now had not been confronted with English troops, but had fought, always with success, either in Germany or against Spaniards. The authors of the Victories and Conquests of the French Armies say, that their morale sustained a shock from which it never recovered. Be this as it may, Soult did not con- sider himself justified in renewing the combat on the morrow, but fell back on the 18th to Salamo, in order to meet reinforcements, which were on their march to join him from Andalusia. 174 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. Ibll. CHAP. XIII. M.VSSENA. IS RECALLED. — MAEMONT COMMANDS THE FKENCH AEMIES. — WEL- LIJfGTON UNDERTAKES THE SECOND SIEGE OF RADAJOS. — MANCEUTERS IN ESTREMADtJRA — TWO ASSAULTS FAIL. — HE RETURNS TO BEIRA. — CIUDAD RODRIGO RELIEVED BT THE FRENCH. — AFFAIR OF ELBODON. — THE ARMIES GO INTO QUARTERS. It was about this time that Massena, by far the ablest of Napoleon's marshals, suffered the fate which, in those days, overtook all unsuc- cessful generals in the French service. He was recalled in dis- grace, and the command of the army in Portugal given to Marshal Marmont. No immediate change took place, however, in the enemy's dispositions, and Wellington was thus enabled to execute without anxiety a purpose on which he had long determined. He put Sir Brent Spencer in charge of a force on the frontier of Castille, and carrying with him two divisions, the third and the seventh, set out to assume the direction of affairs in Spanish Estremadura. He reached Elvas on the l7th, sent orders to Beres- ford to follow Soult cautiously, and himself with a Portuguese division resumed the blockade of Badajos. There can be no doubt that Lord Wellington in making the cap- ture of Badajos his main object at this juncture, acted upon sound military principles. Had he marched against Soult in the first instance, one or other of two results must have taken place. Either Soult would have retired without fighting into Andalusia, or he would have fought in the strong position of Llerena, which immediately on receiving intelligence of Wellington's arrival in Estremadura, he had hastened to occupy. Probably the battle would have gone against him, but in this case his retreat was safe, while time was afforded for the army of Portugal to make a move- ment in the face of which the siege of Badajos could not have been undertaken. A close calculation of time and chances led, on the other hand, to the conclusion, that Badajos if briskly assailed might fall, before either Soult or the army of Portugal could come to its relief. It was reasoning such as this which induced Wellington to content himself with observing Soult, and to sit 1811. SECOND SIEGE OF BADAJOS. 175 down for the second time before the capital of Spanish Estre- madura. He had few days to spare, and was miserably supplied with the means necessary for conducting sieges. Among the officers of engineers in the Eugiish service might, indeed, be found men of brilliant talent and high professional attainments. Such were Fletcher, Squires, Jones, and Burgoyne, then a lieutenant-colonel, and still, happily for England, one of the foremost among the scientific generals in the world. But there were no trained arti- ficers, no sappers and miners, no well-organised park, nothing, in short, with which to work, except a few spades, pickaxes, and bill- hooks. Still Wellington relied upon the indomitable courage of his troops. He knew that on the 16th of May Greneral Drouet had set out from Castille with nineteen battalions of the 9th corps ; he calculated that this force might be able to form a junction with Soult about the 8th of June, and hoping to brusque the place in the interval, he broke ground on the 25th, and pushed his ad- vances vigorously. The English batteries opened on the 2nd of June against the outwork of St. Christoval, and on the 6th an assault was deli- vered. It failed, and a second attempt on the 9th met with no better success. There were neither means at Wellington's disposal, nor time at his command, sufficient to authorise a third attempt. He had heard from the frontier of Castille that Marmont was in motion, that he had thrown supplies into Ciudad Rodrigo on the 6th, and compelled Spencer to retire across the Coa. This done he had turned to his left and passed through the Puerta de Bagnos, whence he had gained Placentia by a rapid march, and might from day to day be expected to form a junction with Soult. Meanwhile Soult himself, informed of these movements, was making correspondent changes in his own dispositions. He had broken up from Llerena, and marching upon Zafra, had pushed his advanced posts as far as Los Santos. This was on the 13th, and on the 15th Marmont and he had communicated by patrols. Well informed of all this, Lord Wellington immediately suspended his siege operations. The few guns of his train which i-emained serviceable, with such stores and ammunition as were worth saving, he removed at once to Elvas, and leaving the 3rd and 7th divisions to continue the blockade, he concentrated the remainder of his army at Albuera. The total strength of the allied forces thus brought together did not exceed 35,268 men. Of these, 8000 were Spaniards, under the command of General Blake ; 13,785 Portuguese, and tlie re- 176 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLIXGTOX. 1811. mainder English. The cavahy fell short of 2000, and the artillery was weak. The combined French armies, on the other hand, amounted to about 60,000 of whom 7000 were cavalry. It seems difficult to account for their supineness in not forcing on a battle or compelling Wellington, in case he should decline it, to withdraw beyond the Guadiana. From Merida, where Marmont's head-quar- ters were established, to Zafra at which Soult had halted, cannot much exceed forty miles, and by a detour of sufficient width to render even a flank movement safe, it might have been compassed in sixty. Yet for five days the two marshals were content to observe their enemy each from his own position ; and to maintain their commmiications one with another by patrols only. At the end of that interval Wellington was safe. Sir Brent Spencer, moving parallel with Marmont, arrived with the head of his column on the 20th ; and on the 24th the whole of the army was in position at Albuera. Wellington had now under his orders 25,000 English, and 18,000 Portuguese infantry ; 3189 British, and 1200 Portuguese cavahy. Though still inferior to the enemy in point of numbers, and more so in the composition of his troops, he seems to have meditated assuming the offensive. But a careful consideration of circum- stances induced him to abandon that design. He had nothing to gain by a victory, of which he was not pretty sure without it. The French could not retain their hold on Estremadura at a season of the year when the corn was not ripe ; and a victory had it been achieved would have merely precipitated their withdrawal, at the cost to him of many lives, which he could ill spare. But in order to distract their attention he prevailed upon Blake to move round by Jerumenha and Mertola upon Seville ; of which, if he made good diligence, it was quite upon the cards that he might be able to gain possession before they could relieve it. Blake set out on the 22nd, but, like a true Spaniard, loitered by the way. He thought to win some easy laurels by the capture of Neibla, which was held by a French garrison of 300 men. He attacked the place on the 30th, and was repulsed. Meanwhile Soult ob- tained intelligence of his movement, and detaching a light corps got to Seville before him, and frustrated the whole scheme. From that time till the 14th of July, Wellington and the French marshals continued to face one another. But the event on which the former had calculated now befel. Soult withdrew with his troops into Andalusia, while Marmont recrossed the Tagus, and put his army into cantonments between Talavera and Placentia. Two courses were now open to Wellington. He might, for the third time, form the siege of Badajos, though at the risk of having 1811. CIUDAD EODRIGO BLOCKADED. 177 Portugal invaded again from the north, or he might recross the Tagus, take up his old ground above the Coa; resume the blockade of Ciudad Eodrigo, or if an opportunity offered, attack it in due form. He preferred the latter course, for reasons which he has himself, with his usual frankness, avowed. *' From the information I had received," he says, " I believed that the strength of the northern army was less than that of the south, and that the Arinee de Por- tugal 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 num- bers in Spain. There is but little communication between one town and another ; and although the most accurate account of numbers which have passed through one town can always be ob- tained, no information can be obtained of what is passing in the next. To this add that the disposition of the Spaniards naturally leads them to exaggerate the strength and success of themselves and their friends, 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." On another point Lord Wellington's sources of information had failed him. He was not aware that Marmont previously to his southern movement had thrown supplies into Ciudad Eodrigo, and trusting to former accounts, still believed, that the garrison would be unable to hold out beyond the 20th of August. Hence his determination to transfer the war to the north of the Tagus, and to attempt the reduction of the place, by blockade or other- wise, as circumstances might direct. An efficient train of siege guns had at length been sent out from England. Its arrival in the Tagus was communicated to Lord Wellington at this time, and he gave directions that it should at once be removed to Oporto. But the better to deceive the enemy, he caused the fleet, in which it was embarked, to sail in the direc- tion of Cadiz, and the guns and stores to be transferred, a long way out at sea, from the large, into smaller vessels. These, imme- diately putting about, made for the mouth of the Douro, while the fleet continued its course towards Cadiz. Meanwhile, he himself withdrew from Albuera, passed the Guadiana at Juru- menha, and the Tagus at Villa Vella, and in the fii'st week of August, placed Ciudad Rodrigo in a state of complete blockade. To his extreme mortification, however, he found that the enemy had in- troduced into the place provisions for two months' consumption, N 178 MEMOIE OF THE DUKE OF WELLIXGTOX. 1811. and that if reduced at all, it must be reduced by regular siege. But here again obstacles of the gravest nature stood in his way. Though there could be little difficulty in carrying the train as far up the river as Lamega, its transport thence to Almeida seemed beyond the reach of human skill. The roads from the one point to the other were mere tracks passing over steep moun- tains. The only draught animals available were bullocks, and it was necessary, above all things, to keep his intentions concealed from the enemy. All these difficulties yielded, however, to the means which were applied to surmount them. The guns made their way slowly but surely to Almeida, while Lord Wellington from his position on the further side of the Coa, masked the operation, and made his arrangements for turning it to account. While these things went on, large bodies of troops were on their march continually from France to the seat of war. Napoleon, anxious to be delivered from one danger before encountering an- other, made a great effi)rt to increase his disposable army in Spain. He seems scarcely to have calculated on the immediate expulsion of the English from the Peninsula, but he hoped to confine them to Portugal, and to succeed in keeping down the Spanish insur- rection, till he should himself be free to deal with it. The arrival of a portion of these troops had already raised the combined corps of Marmont and Dorsenne to 54,000 infantry, 6000 cavalry, and 120 guns ; and more were daily expected. Now Wellington could bring into line, including Sanchez's guerillas, barely 40,000 of all arms. It was impossible in the face of such odds, to attempt anything brilliant. He could not venture to form the siege, and continued the blockade, not without considerable risk and much inconvenience. On the other hand, Marmont became uneasy about Ciudad Rodrigo, and early in September, made a move to reopen his communications with it. Leaving one division upon the Tagus to guard his bridges and boats, he crossed the Gruadar- rama with the rest of his army. A simultaneous movement was effected by Dorsenne, one of whose infantry divisions with a strong body of cavalry, reached Tamames on the 22nd. The same day the army of the north encamped at Samanos. It consisted of 14,000 or 15,000 admirable troops, and escorted a convoy which threaded its way through the English posts with equal skill and celerity. The result was that on the 23rd the convoy entered Ciudad Rodrigo, and the place was revictualled for eight mouths. Wellington had not anticipated so prompt a proceeding. His army besides being a good deal scattered, was suffering from sick- ness, and to risk a battle beyond the Agueda would have been too hazardous. He fell back, therefore, upon Elbodon, and took 1811. AFFAIR OF ELBODON. 179 up a position there. Though the best of which circumstances would admit, it was by no means very defensible, besides which more time was necessary to concentrate upon it than the enemy seemed disposed to grant. He had been able to place on the heights only two brigades of infantry, and 700 or 800 horsemen, when Marmont made his appearance at the head of an entire in- fantry division, 30 squadrons of cavalry, and 12 guns. Had the French Marshal attacked in force, the results might have been serious ; for Wellington's two brigades were separated from each other by a wide interval, and all the rest of his army was in march from remote points towards Gruinaldo. But Wellington put so bold a face upon the matter, that the enemy hesitated, and con- tented himself with making what he described in his despatch, as a reconnoissance with his cavalry and artillery alone. Against 30 squadrons, supported by 12 guns, the English troopers could offer no effectual resistance. They fell back behind the infantry, which forming into squares, resisted every attempt to pierce them, and though enveloped by hostile squadrons, withdrew with a leisurely step into position at Gruinaldo. This had been from the first, Wellington's real point of con- centration. He had halted at Elbodon with the centre of his army, in order to give time for the wings to close in ; he now oc- cupied the ground with barely 14,000 men, of whom 2500 were cavalry. Once more it seemed to be in Marmont's power to over- whelm his adversary. He had all his divisions in hand, for they arrived in the night between the 25th and 26th. ^^^lereas the English and Portuguese were still in motion ; Crawfurd, with the Light Division, having fallen into a wrong road. Yet Wellington was as usual, cool and collected, and he reaped his reward. The enemy stood at bay. Between the evening of the 26th and the early part of the 27th, the English army became united, and the same night Wellington quietly withdrew to a better position be- tween the Coa and the Agueda. Marmont's opportunity had es- caped him ; already his troops were beginning to suffer from want of provisions. So he returned to his cantonments, scarcely recon- ciled to the thought that though Ciudad Eodrigo was safe, the English had extricated themselves from the toils. So ended the campaign of 1811, in point of fact the hinge upon which the issues of the whole war in the Peninsula turned. It put a strain upon the physical energies and mental resources of Lord Wellington greater than any which, either before or after- wards, they were called upon to endure. In the face of an enemy superior in every respect to himself, he had formed an army out of the raw levies of Portugal. He had created a patriotism both N 2 180 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1811. on the part of the Grovernment and of the people which was not natural to them. He had established a system of credit which enabled him to pay his way, at times when scarcely a dollar remained in the military chest. He had arranged for feeding, out of supplies provided by himself, first his troops, Portuguese as well as English, and then a large amount of civil population, which the war had driven back into the capital and the villages round it. Of his choice of ground for the lines of Torres Vedras, and of the secrecy and skill with which he rendered them im- pregnable, it is not necessary to speak. It was the inspiration of genius which suggested the idea; it was a resolute will, acted upon by forethought of the widest range, Avhich compelled the realisation of the idea. His conduct in the field was in perfect keeping with the bent of his deliberation in council. He looked always to the issues of the war. A passing success, however brilliant, had no charm in his eyes, except so far as it seemed to bear upon the great end for which he was striving. He per- mitted first Ciudad Kodrigo, and then Almeida to fall, despising the clamour which assailed him, because their temporary de- liverance would have been purchased at too high a price, had a few thousand lives been sacrificed to insure it. He turned to bay at Busaco, because a battle was necessary to restore the confidence of his army, and he abstained from sallying out of his lines, one moment before the time, because the retreat of Massena was in- evitable, and the longer it was delayed, the more disastrous its consequences must be to the fugitives. If he exhibited caution in the beginning of the pursuit, his operations subsequently to the evacuation of Santarem by the French, were all marked by con- summate boldness and rapidity. The skill with which he turned Massena away from Coimbra into the barren valley which is en- closed between the mountains and the Mondego, was a master- stroke of tactics, and his battle at Fuentes d'Onoro showed, that with an important object in view he was ready to confront the most adverse circumstances, and to overcome them. Observe too, how his eye ranges over the whole theatre of war, and misses nothing. He had saved Portugal by saving Lisbon ; he now toils to keep the country clear of an enemy on every side, and he succeeds. Badajos is betrayed by its Spanish Governor, and the Alentejo lies open. He detaches Beresford to cover that frontier, and follows to arrange upon the spot the marshal's plan of operations. He is back again on the Coa in time to receive Massena, and appears once more in Spanish Estremadura just as he is needed there to bafifle Soult, And now thouo;h too weak to recover either Badajos or Ciudad Rodrigo, he keeps both places 1811. WINTEK QUARTERS. 181 in a state of constant alarm, compelling the enemy to concentrate their armies in order to avert a blow, and relieving thereby from heavy pressure the provinces whence their troops were with- drawn. Had there been vigour enough in the Spanish Govern- ment and people to take advantage of the opportunities thereby afforded, the French must have been driven across the Pyrenees in a single campaign. But this was not the case. The whole burden of the struggle fell upon Wellington, and he proved him- self, not less by his prudence than by his daring, worthy to sustain it. " It will be seen," he says, in a memorandum which briefly but clearly describes the principal events of the year, " that if the Spaniards had behaved with common prudence, or if their conduct had been even tolerably good, the result of Massena's campaign in Portugal, must have been the relief of the south of the Peninsula. We have had to contend with the consequences of the faults of some, the treachery of others, and the folly and vanity of all. But although our success has not been what it might and ought, we have at least lost no ground, and with a handful of British troops fit for service, we have kept the enemy in check in all quarters since the month of March." The return of the French army towards the valley of the Tagus was immediately followed by the breaking up of its various corps. Marmont re-established himself along the course of the river, while Dorsenne withdrew to Burgos. Wellington, on his part, renewed at once the blockade of Ciudad Eodrigo, by pushing forward Crawfurd's division across the Coa, With the rest of the army he withdrew into cantonments, and. established his own head- quarters at Frenada. N 3 182 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1812. CHAP. XIV. SIEGE AND CAPTTTEE OF CITJDAD EODEIGO. — MARCH TO ESTKEMADITIA. — CAPTUEE OF BADAJOS. The allied armies had sufifered much from sickness during the autumn. Exposure to the heavy rains, which fall at that season, told upon the constitutions of men, many of whom carried about wdth them the dregs of the Walcheren fever : and they were all in rags. About 20,000, more than a third of the force upon paper, went into hospital, and the horses, reduced to feed upon chopped hay in insufficient quantities, died daily. Had there been no other reason for keeping quiet, such a state of things of itself would have caused Wellingion to resist the pressing solicitations of the Spanish Government, and to decline a winter campaign in the south. But he had other objects in view. He was watching his opportunity to undertake the siege, for which, by this time, the arrival of the train at Almeida supplied the means ; and it came at last. Napoleon began to withdraw troops from Spain. About 60,000 in all marched in the early winter, including 15,000 of the very best of Alarmont's corps ; while Marmont was directed by orders from Paris, to establish himself at Valladolid, and to take charge of the northern provinces. Meanwhile Dorsenne, weakened as well as Marmont, lay at Burgos, whence he was to fm-nish to the army of Portugal, in case of need, 12,000 infantry, and the whole of his cavalry. The removal of these corps so far to the rear, and intelligence of Soult's projected invasion of Asturias and Valencia, seemed to offer to Lord Wellington the very opening for which he had so long looked. He determined to attack in succession Ciudad Rodrigo and Badajos, and he hoped to reduce both. But even failure, however mortifying, would not, as he conceived, be with- out its uses. On the 7th of January, after the first operation was begun, he wrote thus to Lord Liverpool : " If we don't succeed, we shall at least bring back upon ourselves all the force which has marched away : and I hope we may save Valencia, or at all events 1812. CIUDAD RODRIGO TAKEN". 183 afford more time to the Asturians and Galicians. If we do succeed, we shall make a fine campaign in the spring." Great boldness was needed to attempt the capture of two places so important ; watched as they were close at hand by considerable armies. But the coolness and determination of the English general were quite equal to the enterprise. For some time back he had been silently and effectuall}^ preparing for it. In the most unostentatious manner he repaired the works of Almeida, and laid up in that place a train of artillery, a tressle-bridge equipment, and a number of fascines and gabions. He had caused some hun- dreds of light carriages to be constructed upon a model of his own invention. He had arranged a line of communication with Oporto, and shortened by improving the navigation of the Douro. INIean while to distract the enemy's attention from the point on which the blow was about to fall, he directed Hill, who was sta- tioned at Portalegre with 15,000 men, to create alarm in Anda- lusia, by making demonstrations on the road to Seville. Informed now of the recent changes in the enemy's position, he struck his blow; and on the 7th of January, 1812, in defiance of frost and snow, passed the Agueda, and closely invested Ciudad Eodrigo. In spite of the intense cold, and the necessity to which the troops were exposed of fording the river in order to relieve the trenches, the siege operations were pushed with such vigour, that on the 19th two breaches were pronounced practicable. All the outworks had been previously carried by coup de main. One, a lunette, was stormed and taken on the night of the 8th ; another, a fortified convent, fell between the 14th and 18th. On the 16th the garrison was summoned, and on the night of the 19th, the assault was delivered. General Crawfurd led the Light Division against one breach. General Picton, with the third divi- sion, mounted the other. The resistance was stern ; but the assailants entered the town, which took fire in many places, and suffered all the horrors of a sack. But important as this conquest was, it cost the victors dear. Crawfurd fell on the crest of his own breach ; General Mackinnon was blown up by the explosion of a magazine. The total loss during the siege and in the assault amounted to 178 killed, 818 wounded, and 7 missing. Of the French garrison, which had been reduced to 1800 men, 1500, inclusive of sick and wounded, became prisoners of war; the rest died. So prompt and vigorous had been Lord Wellington's proceedings, and so imperfect the channels of information estal)lished by the French generals, that the first tidings which reached Marmont of the danger which threatened Ciudad Eodrigo, ciime in only on th N 4 184 MEMOIE OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1812. 15th. He had executed the Emperor's instructions with extraor- dinary laxity. He began his march to Valladolid so late as the 5th of January, though the order to move must have reached him on the 27th or 28th of December at the latest ; and he did not arrive at his place of destination till the 11th. He was occupied with G-eneral Drouet in arranging for the relief of the posts which the latter gave up, till the 15th, and then he heard, for the first time, that the English had taken the field. He issued instructions immediately for his scattered divisions to assemble at Medina del Campo and Salamanca, and calculated on being able to be upon the Ao-ueda on the 26th or 27th, with 32,000 ; and on the 1st or 2nd of February with 40,000 men. On the 21st, he received at Fuente il Sanco, the astounding intelligence that the place had fallen, and saw at once the position of marked inferiority to which the catastrophe had reduced him. Like other men who find their calculations defeated, he threw the blame on every one except himself, and especially charged the Emperor, not without reason, with having brought about the misfortune by his injudicious weakening and dissemination of the French army in Spain. But all this does not suffice absolutely to exculpate him. Had he obeyed with greater alacrity the Emperor's orders, injudicious as they doubtless were, he would have had time at least to attemjDt the interruption of the siege, whether successfully or not. But even that chance, his own indolence, combined with a persuasion that the English were destitute of a battering train, took from him. There was nothing for it now but to establish a new point (Vappui, as near to the Portuguese frontier as would be safe; and Sala- manca was selected for that purpose. It was put into a state of temporary defence, by fortifying three convents, which stood at the three angles of a triangle, and inclosed among them, a consi- derable space of ground. The published Correspondence of Napoleon, as well as Marshal Marmont's narrative, tell a strange tale of ill-will and heart- burning, at this time, among the chiefs of the French army. Marmont foreseeing that Wellington's next move would be upon Badajos, requested leave to occupy the valley of the Tagus, and to have the three armies of the north, of the centre, and of Por- tugal, placed under his command. He was sharply refused in both instances, and advised to attend to his own affairs ; in other words, to look to the defence of the north of the Peninsula, and to leave the protection of Badajos to Soult. And he was further reminded, that should Wellington sit down before Badajos with his whole army an irruption across the Agueda, and the seizure of Coimbra., would soon compel him to abandon the enterprise. Uncon- 1812. MARCH TO THE GUADUXA. 185 vinced, 3^et without power to follow his own devices, Marmont accordingly drew to a head on the Tormes, transferring at the same time his own head-quarters from Valladolid to Salamanca. Wellington could have desired nothing better. He had suspended his designs against Eadajos, so long as Marmont kept four divi- sions in the neighbourhood of the Tagus. He no sooner heard of their removal, than he resumed his project. And he did so the more confidently, that with the same forethought which had pro- vided beforehand for the attack on Ciudad Rodrigo, he had been preparing his materials against this third siege of Badajos. As early as December a bridge equipment was sent from Abrantes to Elvas. Two thousand workmen were employed in the latter place to construct fascines, gabions, platforms, and other necessary appli- ances, and while heavy guns were transported from Lisbon, convoys of tools and stores made their way across from Ciudad Eodrigo. Hence, when on the 1 1th of ]March the English army arrived at Elvas, much that was necessary to facilitate the operations on which they were about to enter, had been effected. That all had not been done which Wellington desired and his troops needed, was owing entirely to the remissness of the civil magistrates, and to the natural indolence of the Portuguese people. The march from the Agueda to the Gruadiana was perhaps as perilous an enterprise as Wellington ever attempted. His men were all but naked, and for lack of means wherewith to bring the new clothing up to them, he was obliged to detach regiment after regiment to the points on the Tagus, where the clothing hap- pened at the moment to be. Had he been opposed to a more enterprising enemy, he would have doubtless suffered the extreme of inconvenience rather than run such risks. No evil came of it, however, neither were the parties molested whom he left behind to repair the works of Ciudad Rodrigo, and further to strengthen those of Almeida. And he made the best dispositions in his power to check Marmont's progress should he dash, as was to be ex- pected that he would, at the country beyond these fortresses. He had yet to learn that even in cases so m'gent as these, it is one thing to give instructions to Spanish magistrates and officers, and quite another to find that they have been carried into effect. Though much disappointed by the shortcomings visible at Elvas, Wellington lost no time in commencing operations. On the 16th, he established his bridge on the Guadiana, tv/o leagues above the town, and on the 17th Badajos was invested. Ground being broken the same night, the first parallel was drawn ; and from hour to hour, with all the vigour of which both men and officers 186 MEMOm OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1812. were capable, the works went on. They were stoutly opposed by a garrison of 5000 excellent troops, and a resolute and skilful Grovernor, General Philippon, who omitted no precaution to render his position secure ; yet they made way in the face of innumer- able difficulties. The weather was frightful ; the roads a mass of mud. A sortie on the 19th, though repulsed, cost the English many intrenching tools which they could ill spare. Heavy rains, and the bursting of a tank, flooded the trenches ; and the pontoon bridge on the Guadiana was carried away. Even provisions began to fail, and all, except Lord Wellington, grew despondent. The men lost heart. The bridge was restored, the trenches baled out, and on the night of the 25th, the first batteries opened. There was no time, even if means had been abundant, to proceed by regular approaches, but each outwork as soon as a breach had been effected in it was stormed. One, the Picurina lunette, fell in the night between the 25th and 26th. The raveline of San Eoque was next attacked, because it protected an inundation, which pro- duced by the damming up of the rivulet Eevillas, covered the eastern face of the town. And then upon two bastions, the Trinite and the Santa Maria, fresh batteries opened. In the afternoon of the 5th of April, Lord Wellington visited the trenches, and directed the fire of the breaching batteries against the curtain. On the evening of the 6th, 18,000 men got under arms; and three columns of attack were formed. One, under General Picton, was to escalade the castle, of which the walls, quite uninjured, measured from seven to fifteen yards in height; another was to make two demonstrations against an outwork, the Pordaleras, and a bastion which rested upon the Guadiana ; the third, of which General Colville and Lieutenant-Colonel Barnard were at the head, was to rush upon the breaches. Finally the raveline of San Eoque was to be attempted by the Guards of the trenches, while Power's Portuguese, who kept up the invest- ment on the right of the Guadiana, were to threaten the tete-de- 'pont,¥oxi San Christoval, and a new redoubt, called Mon Coeur. It is impossible to refuse to these arrangements the merit of having been settled with consummate skill ; it is equally impos- sible to deny that the English general owed his success to the indomitable courage of his troops. He had fixed the hour of ten at night for delivering the assault ; and faithful to the appointed moment, the columns moved on. The weather was so gloomy, and the darkness so profound, that it was impossible to distinguish objects at a distance of twenty paces. Having assembled in the trenches, the troops advanced, preceded by parties of men who carried ladders. Each soldier was supplied with a sack of hay. 1812. BADAJOS STORMED. 187 which he was to throw into the ditcli iu order to lessen its depth ; and so they approached the glacis. Suddenly there was heard by those in the town a rattle of arms, and the dull noise of battalions, which threw themselves over the counter-scarp into the ditch. " They come, they come," cried a voice, and almost at the same instant a fearful explosion took place under the feet of the assailants. It was the noise of detonating balls, of shells and blazing rockets which Colonel Lamare had arranged at the bottom of the breach. To the profound darkness, there succeeded all at once, the light of an immense fire, which presented to the eyes a spectacle too horrible to be described. A wild cry of " Vive I'Empereur ! " replied from the ramparts to the groans of the poor soldiers huddled down pell-mell into the ditch, where they died by hundreds ; and at the same instant, there were directed upon the confused mass, several discharges of case shot from the flanking batteries still untouched, and a rolling fire of musketry delivered at point blank, by 700 chosen men, each furnished with three fire- locks. The English columns appeared to be in the midst of a volcano, the eruptions of which, succeeding each other minute after minute, presented the appearance at a distance, of showers of living flame. It was not a battle, it was, to adopt the expression of Colonel Lamare, " a massacre, and butchery." Eepulsed, but not disheartened, the English, after a short breathing space, gathered themselves up and again advanced. They were again beaten back from all the breaches, and again returned to the assault. It was a hopeless effort, and must have ended in defeat, had not Picton converted what was meant for a feint, into a real attack. After a desperate struggle, he made himself master of the raveline of San Eoque, whence, by a movement to the right, he approached the Castle itself. It was Init feebly garrisoned, most of the troops having been required for tlie defence of the breaches; and his escalade, a more than usually hardy operation, succeeded. But after overcoming all opposition, his division halted where it had triumphed, uncertain what course to follow, and unwilling to lose the advantage gained. Mean- while, Leith's men had been beaten back from Pordaleras. Not so Walker's brigade, which, planting its ladders against the bastion San Vincent, surmounted a scarp upwards of twenty-six feet in height, and cleared the ramparts. All this while Wellington watched with anxiety the terrible scene which was passing at the foot of the breach. It was mid- night when a mounted officer came to report to him the various incidents of the assault. The pallor of his countenance indicated how deeply the sad tale moved him. Yet no sign of agitation 188 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1812. disturbed his habitual serenity. With the utmost calmness he gave orders to withdraw the troops immediately, and re-form them for a new assault. But scarcely had this disposition been made, when a messenger from Pieton informed him of the capture of the Castle. That piece of good news followed soon afterwards by tidings of the successful escalade of St. Vincent, caused him to anticipate a speedy and decisive success. He directed Pieton to keep quiet till the morning, and then to advance with 2000 men upon the rear of the besieged, while Barnard and Colville should deliver a new assault. He took measures at the same time to insure the possession of the raveline of St. Eoque, which had been escaladed by the gorge at an early hour in the evening ; finally he gave instructions to break down the dam -head and the bridge over the inundation, when the proper moment should arrive. The fall of the Castle rendered further resistance on the part of Greneral Philippon impossible. At first, indeed, he learned only that the attack in that quarter had been renewed, and he sent from the bastion St. Vincent, 200 men to reinforce the garrison. But these soon discovered that the prize was lost. There followed after this only warm, yet desultory fighting in the streets. It could lead to only one result. Philippon gathering around him about 150 men, retired about one in the morning into fort St. Christoval, and at six, in order to save the lives of such as still survived, surrendered. The loss to the Allies in the siege and capture of Badajos was very heavy. It amounted, in all, to 72 officers, 51 Serjeants, and 912 rank and file killed; 306 officers, 216 Serjeants, and 3787 rank and file wounded ; 1 serjeant, and 63 rank and file miss- ing. But great as the sacrifice was, circumstances fully justified it. Wellington was now master of his own position. He had wrested from the enemy the two fortresses which form the keys of Spain on the side of Portugal, and was thenceforth free to elect his field of operations either in the north, or in the south. Had the Spaniards done their duty, he would have chosen the south, and cleared Andalusia before bringing the campaign to an end ; as it was, he felt himself constrained to look elsewhere, and to return to his former position in Beira. We have had occasion to refer to the orders issued by Napoleon for Marmont's guidance. They reached him early in January, 1812, and he fixed in consequence his head-quarters at Valladolid, disposing his force mainly with a view to the defence of the north of Spain. In the end of February he received further instructions which Napoleon appears to have dictated about the 18th. Written after the fall of Ciudad Eodrigo, and in contemplation of a pro- 1812. NAPOLEONS TLAN. 189 LaLle attack upon Badajos, they were to this effect : " Place your troops, so that in four marches they may concentrate at Sala- manca. If Wellington move towards Badajos, 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 Dalmatia, and request him to carry into effect the orders which I have given him, to advance with 20,000 men on the Guadiana, and thus compel Hill, who has only 15,000 to remain on the Tagus. Do not think, M. le Marechal, of going towards the south, but penetrate at once into Portugal, if Wellington has committed the mistake of crossing to the right bank of the Tagus." The plan thus proposed was excellent, had Marmont possessed both the genius and the means to act upon it promptly. But not being able to comprehend its importance, Marmont first criticised, when he ought to have been making preparations, and then found, when it was too late, that cavalry, means of transport, and provi- sions were all wanting to him. He ought to have been before Ciudad Eodrigo on the 15th of March at the latest; and had he done so, he would have found it with the breaches still open. Between that date and the 31st, when at last he made his appearance, the place was in some state of defence, and Marmont being des- titute of a battering train, could only mask it, as well as Almeida, and pass on. Meanwhile Soult exhibited to the south of the Tagus a not less culpable negligence. Engrossed with his siege of Cadiz, he paid no heed to the Emperor's orders ; and was moved at last onl}^ by the arrival in his camp of messengers from General Philippon, who announced to him, on the 8th, that the defence of Badajos could not be maintained much longer. He set out the same day with 24,000 men, expecting to meet Mar- mont at Llerena, with 30,000 ; but besides being disappointed in this, he had the mortification to learn, that only two days pre- viously Badajos had fallen. Nor was this all. The army of Ballesteros threatened Seville, and put his communications with his own rear in danger. He had no choice under the circum- stances. Expecting that Wellington would advance into Andalusia, he fell back, in all haste, and took up a position, with a view should such a move be made, to fight the English at the debouches of the Sierra Morena. It was not without a feeling of considerable mortification that Wellington abstained from pursuing. He sent forward, indeed, a portion of his army under General Graham, which came up with Drouet's cavalry at Villa Garcea, and had a smart and successful affair with it. But beyond this Wellington could not 190 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1812. venture. " 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 Rodrigo (me- naced by the Duke of Eagusa), it is absolutely necessary that I should return to the frontiers of Castille." In the same terms he addresses Lord Wellesley on the 11th from Badajos. "If Ciudad Rodrigo 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 Badajos was concluded. If I was to march there under existing circumstances, the formidable position which I have acquired, with so many sacrifices, would un- doubtedly be lost, and with that position, all the objects of the expedition into Andalusia." His reasoning was as sound as his decision in acting upon it proved to be energetic and prompt. Giving strict orders for the immediate repair of the ruined fortifi- cations of Badajos, and leaving force enough to cover the working parties, and a brigade of Portuguese to hold the place till it should be regularly garrisoned by Spanish troops, he broke up with the rest of the army and marched upon Beira. The operations of Marmont in that quarter had been neither well arranged nor vigorously executed. He moved upon the Griiarda, where a force of Portuguese militia was assembled, and following it down the course of the Mondego, charged it with his cavalry, and made about 1500 prisoners; but he effected nothing more. His provisions, scanty from the first, began to fail him. He arrived too late to prevent the Allies from burning the maga- zines which had been collected at Castello Branco and Celerico, and receiving intelligence on the 17th of Wellington's approach, he halted, fell back, and returned to Salamanca. Thus by the 25th of April all the armies which had taken part in this short but brilliant campaign, were replaced in the positions which they had severally occupied before it began. Marmont again covered the northern provinces of Spain, Soult resumed his operations lan- guidly before Cadiz, while Wellington, protected on both flanks, by the fruits of his latest victories, stationed his divisions, where they could most conveniently subsist, and established his own head-quarters at Fuente Gfuenaldo. 1812. WINTEE QUAETEES. iO. CHAP. XV. WINTER QUARTERS. — STREXGTK AND POSITION OF THE BELLIGERENTS. — TITE CAMPAIGN OPENS. — CAPTURE OF SALAMANCA. — MANCEUVRES. — RATTLE OF SALAMANCA. — WELLINGTON IN MADRID. Feom the 25th of April to the 13th of June the main body of the Anglo-Portuguese army occupied a wide extent of cantonments in the province of Beira, and along the frontiers of Castille. Hill, with 15,000 or 16,000 men, lay to the left of the Tagus, between that river and the Gruadiana. His head-quarters were at Merida, whence he could at once cover Badajos, during the process of filling up the breaches, and keep Soult uneasy in regard to a probable invasion of Andalusia. His corps was further available for a hazardous yet important enterprise, on which Lord Welling- ton had determined to employ it, and which, when the proper moment came, it executed with brilliant success. It is said by Greneral Jomini that three courses were at tliis time open to Lord Wellington. " He might advance against Soult on the right, or debouch by the centre upon Madrid, or operate to the left against Marmont." To us it appears that his only reason- able choice lay between a march into Andalusia on the one hand, and an advance against Marmont on the other. His correspondence shovv's that he carefully considered both schemes, and was inclined at first to give a preference to the former ; but in the end he came to the conclusion that the latter would best serve his purpose. To- wards that purpose all his preparations were accordingly directed. He deepened the channels both of the Tagus and of the Douro, so as to render them available for the conveyance of stores, — the Tagus as high as Melpica near Alcantara, the Douro up to the Bacca de Alba ; and on both lines he established magazines. He repaired the bridge at Alcantara, so as to render easy and direct the communications between Hill and himself. jNIeanwhile with a view to interrupt those of the enemy, he instructed Hill to make a dash at Almaraz, and to destroy, if possible, the bridge as well as the stores and boats which had been collected there. Hill ad- mirably effected that purpose. With 6000 men he threw himself, so to speak, into the very heart of the divisions of Foy, d'Arma- 192 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OP WELLINGTON. 1812. gnac, and Droiiet, the latter of whom, with 8000 inflmtry and 1000 cavahy, was considerably nearer to Merida, than Merida was to Almaraz. There is a pass at Mirabile through which the road to Almaraz runs, a.nd which was then closed by a castle. This castle Hill endeavoured to surprise, but failing to reach it before the day broke, he wisely abandoned the attempt. He changed at the same time his whole plan. Leaving one brigade to amuse the garrison, he clambered with the rest over the mountains, whence he came suddenly down upon the tete-de-pont, and took it by escalade. A panic seized the garrisons of the other forts ; they fled, offering scarcely any resistance, and redoubts, bridge, and all the equipments necessary to repair or renew it, were blown up or burned. This done Hill marched quickly away, and regained his former position before the enemy were fully aware of the extent of damage which he had done. Hill's expedition took place between the 16th and 18th of May. It caused great alarm from Salamanca all the way to Cadiz. Joseph, who occupied Madrid with the army of the centre, drew in his posts in anticipation of a march upon the capital. Soult's apprehensions on the score of an invasion of Andalusia were confirmed. Mar- mont alone beheld in all this a prelude to that advance against himself, which he considered to be Wellington's true policy. And Marmont was right. Had Wellington directed his attention either to Andalusia or to Madrid, he might have relieved the south of Spain for the moment, but it would have been by exposing Lisbon to the risk of capture by the sudden march of the army of Portu- gal upon that point, or by bringing upon himself the three armies of Portugal, the centre and the south ; whereas by striking at Marmont, he liad the double chance, either of destroying him if unsupported, or of clearing the southern provinces, by compelling both Soult and the King to march to his assistance. Such were the conclusions at which Marmont arrived, and they coincided exactly with Wellington's view of the case. It was impossible for Wellington to take the field as yet. The rains of early summer are very heavy, and considerable sickness prevailed in his ranks. The dregs of the Walcheren fever still hung about many of his men, and others had given way under the pressure of re- cent fatigue. But there was a still stronger reason why he preferred the north to the south as his field of battle. In the south of Spain the corn ripens early in June, and the enemy who depended upon the country for their supplies, were best able to move just after the getting in of harvest. In the north the harvest seldom begins till three weeks later, and the gain of three weeks in the conduct of a campaign cannot be over-estimated. For this among other reasons 1812. CONDITION OF PORTUGAL. 193 Lord Wellington gave his troops rest. As to himself, lie toiled day and night to complete his preparations, and his labours proved to be as severe as they were multitudinous. Neither Spain nor Portugal had made the slightest progress in its capacity of self-defence. A government without political wisdom, without even patriotism, took no pains, in the former, to economise the resources at its dis- posal. In the latter, a Regency, positively hostile, thwarted instead of assisting the efforts of the English general. At the very moment when the undivided strength of the nation ought to have been directed against the common enemy, Spain was sending off her best regiments, with such artillery as she possessed, to South America. Her army on the spot was quite worthless. The regu- lar cavalry had ceased to exist — the infantry was naked and undisciplined. Almost all the field guns had fallen into the hands of the French, and the foundries were idle. Such supplies of money and materiel as England furnished were either squandered or misapplied ; and an active and secret correspondence went on between the Cortes and the intruder. Nor was the condition of Portugal much better. There, indeed, the army, not too proud to be taught by British officers, had made prodigious strides in disci- pline ; but it was ill-paid, ill-fed, and would have been left without either arms or clothing had not England furnished both. The truth is, that the higher orders of Portuguese cared much more for preserving their feudal privileges than for saving their country. The Regency resisted, as far as it could, Lord Wellington's demand to impose taxes upon all classes alike. The nobles, when ordinances to that effect came out, refused to obey them. With respect to the bulk of the people they had suffered so much, that the issues of the war became to them a subject of perfect indifference ; and the militia, with difficulty called out, deserted as often as oppor- tunity presented itself. A bad practice this, which was not entirely without imitation even among tlie troops of the line. Portugal could not at this time feed its civil population, much less its own and the English army. Portugal was also without money. It devolved upon Lord Wellington to provide for both wants. He established a trade in corn with America, and with the Barbary states. He created a paper currency, by putting in circulation bonds or notes convertible after two years, either at Lisbon or at the office of the Commissary-General, and bearing interest till re- deemed at the rate of 5 per cent, per annum. In carrying on the correspondence which was necessary to the management of affairs so complicated, every moment of his time, not devoted to sleep or to the business of his army, might well have been filled up. But he had more to attend to than even this. His own government 194 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1812. consulted him on questions both of foreign and domestic policy — on the condition of India, and on the administration of Ireland. He gave his advice frankly and fairly on each subject as it came before him ; and his letters, as well those which have been long before the public, as the supplemental collection for which we are indebted to his son, show that his advice was always honest and almost always sound. Among other measures which he arranged at this time was a plan for landing 10,000 English troops from Sicily in Catalonia. These being joined by 6000 Spaniards might, he explained, effect a diversion in his favour, while they hindered Sucliet from march- ing to the assistance of Marmont and the King, when pressed b}^ himself. He discountenanced, on the other hand, a scheme pro- pounded in London, for appointing English officers to Spanish, as they had been appointed to Portuguese regiments and brigades ; and he assigned as his reason, that more harm would arise from the outrage thereby offered to Spanish pride, than could accrue from any imjirovement which English officers might be able to effect in Spanish discipline. He consented, however, to receive 5000 Spanish recruits, and to distribute them through his own regiments ; but it does not appear that he ever succeeded in ob- taining half the number. Finally, he established a depot of provi- sions at Caceres, and waited for the proper moment to assume the offensive. The relative strength of the belligerents at this time was nearly as follows. The entire force, English and Portuguese, actually at Lord Wellington's disposal, amounted to 56,000 men of all arms. Of these 18,000 were with Hill in Spanish Estremedura; 4000 or 5000 were detached, and about .35,000 or 36,000, including 3500 good cavalry, he could assemble at any moment in and around Fuente Gruinalda. A corps of 3500 Spaniards, under the command of the Conde D'Espaila and Don Julian de Sanchez, was likewise at his disposal, which raised the field force to 42,000 men, the largest, and, on the whole, the most efficient army which Lord Wellington had as yet commanded. With respect to the Spanish armies they were, in point of fact, nowhere. Ballasteros, with about 6000 effectives, lay in the camp at San Eocque, and offfered every conceivable objection to quit it, even in the event of Soult's departure to the north. In Gallicia, the mere skeleton of a corps kept together under Castaiios. It was directed, at the fitting time, to form the siege of Astorga. The rest were broken up and dispersed, or had re-formed into bands of guerillas. The Portuguese militia, under Sylviera and Urban, showed a front in Tras-os-Montes, from which position it guarded 1812. LETTER TO LORD LIVERPOOL. 195 the left of the English communications, and threatened at the same time the right of the enemy. Though in point of numbers considerable, it had not been brought into a state of more than moderate efficiency. It could distress convoys, and cut off strag- glers, but was useless for regular operations in the field. But that on which Lord Wellington mainly relied for the success of the campaign which he was about to open, was the timely arrival of the Anglo-Sicilian force. Had the landing been effected as it ought to have been in the first week of June, there is no telling what results might have been achieved. Being deferred till late in July, Suchet was left free to move wherever his presence might be needed, and Wellington's calculations were entirely thrown out. There were opposed to this force, the armies of Marmont, Soult, Suchet, Cafferelli, and Joseph. Marmont could bring into the field about 52,000 men, but his divisions were a good deal scattered, and many days would be required to collect them. Cafferelli, with the army of the north, 38,000 strong, kept open the communications with France. His head-quarters were at Burgos. Joseph, with Jourdain as his major-general, occupied Madrid ; he had about 22,000 men under his immediate orders. Soult was in Andalusia with 56,000, and Suchet with 60,000 overawed Catalonia, Valencia, and Aragon. Over the whole of this large force. Napoleon had by recent instructions committed the supreme command to the King. But of the King's military talents nobody thought well, and the several marshals, beside being jealous one of another, were united in their disinclination to receive orders from one whom they all equally despised. This was a great gain to Wellington, whose only chance against numerical odds so tremendous lay in fighting his enemies one by one, and destroying them in detail. On the 26th of May Lord Wellington wrote a long letter to Lord Liverpool, whom the death of Mr. Perceval had placed at the head of the British Grovernment. It is a remarkable document, because it explains, in full, not only what had been done in the previous campaign of sieges, but what the writer proposed to do in that which was about to open. While the enemy's strength is estimated at less than the truth would have warranted, his vast superiority in numbers is freely admitted ; yet the writer speaks in confident terms as to the result of a collision, should such occur. After assigning his reasons for preferring the north to the south, he goes on to say : " I propose, therefore, as soon as ever the ma- gazines of the army are brought forward, which work is now in progress (the troops continuing in dispersed cantonments for that o 2 196 MExMOIR OF THE DUKE OF AVELLINGTON. 1812. purpose), to move forward into Castile, and to endeavour, if pos- sible, to bring Marmont 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 move- ment should be tried. Your Lordship will have observed that Greneral 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. I know that the bridges at Arzobispo and Talavera cannot be deemed military communica- tions for large corps, and scarcely for any body of troops marching with cannon and carriages. There are, besides, other difficulties for a corps advancing along the valley of the Tagus, towards the frontiers of Portugal. 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." In arriving at the conclusion that the time had come for acting with vigour. Lord Wellington judged rightly. The war with Eussia was now begun. Napoleon was turning the greatest share of his at- tention, as well as the bulk of his available force, towards the north of Europe. He had withdrawn a good many corps from Spain, and entertained serious thoughts of concentrating what were left be- hind the Ebro. It was of the greatest importance to strike a blow ere this concentration could be effected, and to defeat one or more of the marshals while yet they stood apart. There was, however, one source of weakness from which Wellington could not deliver him- self. His paper money availed for Portugal ; it would be useless in Spain; and without money wherewith to supply the wants of an army which could not subsist by requisitions, he might at any moment be brought to a stand-still. He pointedly alludes to this in the letter from which we have just quoted, in the following terms : " In spite of all these chances in my favour, I cannot think, without shuddering, of the probability of our soon being destitute of every thing, and of the consequences which must follow the entire want of money in the heart of Spain." In pursuance of the plan laid down in this letter. Lord Wellington broke up from his cantonments as soon as the rains ceased. He crossed the Agueda on the 13th of June, and arrived on the 17th at the Tormes. This he passed by two fords, one above, the other below Salamanca, and, driving away a division of cavalry which sought to impede his movements, entered the town. The inha- bitants received him with great enthusiasm, and illuminated their 1812. SALAMANCA OCCUPIED. 197 houses at night ; but he had other matters than such expressions of feeling to attend to. The fortified convents which domineered over the place were still in the enemy's hands. These he felt it necessary to reduce, and the task proved to be much more serious than he had anticipated. Misled by the reports of his Spanish agents, he expected to find these places incapable of a protracted resist- ance, and hence attacking thein with inadequate means, he expended all his siege ammunition without producing any visible effect. The consequence was, that he found it necessary to suspend operations, and to await the arrival of powder and shot and a small siege train from Almeida. JNIeanwhile Marmont, who had withdrawn from Salamanca on Wellington's approach, made gigantic efforts to assemble the scat- tered divisions of his army. He succeeded on the 20th in bringing about 25,000 men together, and advanced with them to the relief of the forts. Of the British army, one division continued to main- tain the blockade, while the rest were in line behind a range of heights extending from Villares to the village o-f Moresco. As soon, however, as he received intelligence of the enemy's movements, Lord Wellington called in one brigade from the blockading force, and disarming his batteries, sent the guns as a matter of precaution to the other side of the river. This done he waited to be attacked; but Marmont would not venture upon so bold an enterprise. He contented himself with making some demonstrations throughout the earlier jjart of the 21st, and late in the evening of the same day drove a British picket out of Moresco, and took possession of it. Had Wellington assumed the offensive at daybreak on the 22nd, there is little doubt that he would have obtained a complete victory. He was decidedly superior in numbers to the enemy, whose position besides was in every respect a false one. But for reasons which he has himself assigned, and the weight of which it would ill become us to call in question, he preferred remaining on the defensive. He contented himself, therefore, after standing all day under arms, with attacking Moresco in the afternoon ; and re- covered it with considerable loss to the enemy. The 23rd and 24th were spent in manoeuvres on both sides. Marmont having been joined in the night of the 23rd by 11,000 fresh troops, shifted his ground more than once. His object was to communicate with the forts — the object of Wellington to pre- vent his doing so. Both armies threw strong corps across the Tormes — the French at the ford of Huerta, the English by the bridge, and at the ford of Santa Martha. Both appeared ready to accept, but unwilling to deliver a battle. The result was, that after a good deal of skirmishing, with some affairs of cavalry, the o 3 198 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1812. enemy withdrew again to the further side of the Tonnes, and took post on the old ground beyond Huerta. Meanwhile the expected convoy had arrived from Almeida, and the siege was resumed. A brisk cannonade was kept up during the 26th, and about ten in the morning of the 27th a breach was effected in one of the redoubts, while the convent of La Vincente took fire. The French commandant immediately sent a flag of truce, asking for two hours to arrange terms of capitulation. Wellington demanded an unconditional surrender, and gave but five minutes for deliberation. The minutes passed, and redoubts and convents were stormed. They fell after a brief and not very sanguinary resistance. This little siege, including the affairs with the relieving army, cost the English in killed, wounded, and missing 540 men, and delayed the execution of their plans ten whole days. It enabled Marrnont to get his own divisions well together ; and ought to have brought to his support portions at least of the armies both of the north and of the centre. Had the forts held out another week, CafFerelli, at all eveuts, must have closed up. But the vigour of Wellington's measures disconcerted all these projects. Marmont, who had arranged for crossing the Tormes in the night between the 28th and 29th, heard on the 27th of the disaster. He saw that his situation was completely changed. It was no longer safe for him to remain where he was. He therefore broke up in the night and retired towards the Douro, marching by the Tordesillas and Toro roads, and withdrav/ing the garrison from Alba de Tormes as he passed. Marmont's retreat was not long concealed from Lord Wellington. He heard of it on the 29th, and waiting only to give orders for the destruction of the forts and of the works at Alba de Tormes, he put his columns in motion and set out in pursuit. On the 2nd of July it was reported to him that the enemy was already across the Douro, and that the bridge of Tordesillas had been broken down. Unfortimately these tidings came from a quarter on which he was accustomed to rely. He therefore continued his march at his leisure ; and by roads too far apart to admit of prompt concentra- tion. Hence, w^hen by a brilliant charge of cavalry he had over- thrown the French rear -guard at Eueda, and the retreat of the fugitives upon the main body at Tordesillas had shown that the bridge was still entire, he found himself without means sufficieut to justify an attack while the enemy were in the act of passing. In consequence of this mistake, Marmont, without sustaining any serious loss, succeeded in taking up a commanding position on the opposite side, before which Wellington was constrained to halt, 1812. THE ARMIES FACE EACH OTHER. 199 till the course of the river should be fully examined, aud fords, or other means of passing, discovered beyond the range of the enemy's batteries. There were many reasons which operated both with Marmont and Wellington to restrain them from precipitating a battle. JMarmont was in daily exj^ectation of reinforcements from various quarters. He had urged the King to come in person, or to detach troops to his support. He had called upon Cafferelli, and the King had given peremptory orders for Soult to advance out of Andalusia. The arrival of all, or even of some of the troops thus sent for, would have given him a decided numerical superio- rity over the English, and justified what as yet he hesitated to attempt, his taking the initiative. On the other hand, political con- siderations, not less than the rules of war, withheld Wellington from attacking. He knew that day by day French troops were quitting Spain to join the army of the north. He heard to his extreme morti- fication that the English army from Sicily had been diverted from its proper object, and carried to the South of Italy. He could not afford to throw away one life more than was absolutely necessary. He had nothing to expect from the co-operation of the regular Spanish armies. Even victory, to a man so circumstanced, might be too dearly purchased, and defeat would be destruction. Delay was therefore in his favour, because by forcing the enemy to keep together, he compelled them to live from their own magazines, which, looking to the system upon which they then made war, would not serve them many days. Meanwhile the guerillas began again to make their appearance, and everywhere stragglers were picked up, and the resources of the country for many leagues swept away. Charging Hill, therefore, to keep a steady eye ujoon Soult, and urging Castaiios to press the siege of Astorga, in which he had for some time been engaged, Lord Wellington stood fast ; in readiness either to receive an attack, should such be offered, or to take advantage of the first retrogressive move on the part of the enemy, and to cross the river and fall upon him. So matters rested till the evening of the 16th of Jul}^ So matters would have probably rested much longer, had not other considerations than those which had heretofore kept ISIarmont quiet, induced him to change his plan. King Joseph's letters were urgent for a forward movement. No immediate assistance was promised, but assurances were given that Hill would be pre- vented from joining Wellington, and that in the King's opinion, Marmont was strong enough to cope successfully with Wellington single-handed. Meanwhile Castanos' Spaniards, magnified by o 4 200 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1812. rumour to 15,000, were understood to be moving towards the Esla, and it was rumoured that Astorga could not hold out beyond the 1st of August. Under these circumstances Marmont deter- mined to assume the offensive, and to throw himself, if possible, between the English army and Ciudad Eodrigo. In the evening of the 16th, two French divisions passed the Douro at Toro. They remained in sight of the English till after night fall, when, trimming their fires, they suddenly withdrew again, and moved rapidly towards Tordesillas. There, on the morn- ing of the 17th, the whole army crossed. An advanced guard of English cavalry being driven in, Marmont next directed his steps towards the Gruarena, in the hope that he should be able to seize a o-ood line of defence before Lord Wellington could be informed of his purpose; but Wellington was too quick for him. Though deceived for the moment by the feint at Toro, he no sooner be- came certain of the enemy's retrogression than he discovered their purpose, and marching all night on the l7th, he anticipated Mar- mont by occupying the plateau of Vallesa, on the right bank of the Guarena. There followed upon this a succession of manoeuvres of which we have often heard the great Duke speak, as the most perfectly artistical which had occurred in war since the time of Frederick the Grreat. Marmont's plan was to threaten the English communications between Salamanca and Ciudad Rodrigo ; to force them to retire upon Almeida; or else to strike such a decisive blow as should uncover their first line. But he committed a great fault, having this object in viev/, when he abandoned the Toro, the command of which brought his army considerably nearer than the English to Salamanca. There was an affair of cavalry on the 18th, in which the French suffered severely; and in the afternoon of the 19th Marmont moved to his left. He was observed and followed by Wellington, who, taking a parallel line, placed himself on the 20th in a good position on the plain of Vallesa. Again Marmont shifted his ground, and leaving the heights of Guarena, passed the river below Cantalapiedra, thus turning the English right. It was an opera- tion on which Wellington had not calculated, because he had himself placed a Spanish garrison in the castle of Alba de Tormes ; which, however, had been withdrawn without any intimation to him. But it was instantly met by a counter-movement ; so that the two armies marched throughout the whole of the 20th within cannon shot of each other along the parallel plateaux. The object of both was the village of Cantalpino, lying at the foot of a commanding eminence. The French had the start, and the light cavalry of the 8th division won the race. That night Marmont 1812. RACE FOR THE ARAPILE. 201 bivouacked on the heights of Aldea Eubia, while Wellington resumed his old position at San Christoval. Thus far the advantage was with the French general. He had achieved the command of the Tormes. He might follow which- ever he preferred of three courses : either by fighting a battle at once, or by waiting till Cafferelli should overtake him, or by continuing the operations which he had begun on the 16th. To Wellington no safe alternative remained, except to retreat upon Ciudad Kodrigo. With excellent judgment he yielded to the necessity, prepared, indeed, to cover Salamanca as long as possible, but on no account whatever to sacrifice his communications with Ciudad Kodrigo. It was necessary to inform Castaiios of this intention, and the letter which Lord Wellington wrote fell into the enemy's hands. Marmont instantly passed the Tormes in two columns, at a ford between Huerta and Alba de Tormes, and throwing a garrison into the latter place, proceeded to establish himself between it and Salamanca. This was on the 21st, and the English the same day crossed by the bridge of Salamanca. They took up a strong position, having their right upon one of two hills called the Arapiles, and their left on the Tormes below the ford of Santa Martha. It was about midnight when intelligence reached Lord Wel- lington that the arrival of a reinforcement of cavalry and artillery from Cafferelli's corps might be expected by Marmont on the morrow. He gave such orders immediately as would enable his army to begin its march at a moment's notice towards Ciudad Kod- rigo. But he suspended the movement itself after daylight in the hope that the enemy might commit some blunder. He did not hope in vain. Kendered over-confident by the success which had heretofore attended him, Marmont conceived that the moment had arrived for accomplishing the great purpose for which so many skilful changes of position had been effected. He directed his advanced guard, under Bonnet, to move at daybreak on the 22nd, in the direction of Ciudad Kodrigo. One of the Arapiles crossed, in some measure, the line of march of this French division, and a body of Portuguese troops were seen pushing, as if to take possession of it. Bonnet promptly wheeled up, drove away the Portuguese, and seized the height. It was a great advantage gained : the hill looked down upon the only road by which the English army, in case of a reverse, could defile, and a battery of guns planted upon its summit, rendered such an operation im- possible. Meanwhile the two armies had changed their order of battle. 202 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1SI2. The right of the French, consisting of Foy's and Ferey's divisions, supported by Boyer's dragoons, leaned upon the phiteau of Calva- rasa, and was covered by a wide ravine. In the centre were the divisions of Clausel, Sarrut, Macune, and Brennier, massed behind the Arapile on which Bonnet stood. The left was composed of Thomiere's infantry, and Corto's cavalry division ; it occupied another plateau, on which were placed twenty pieces of cannon. But about half a league from that plateau was the height of Miranda, and still further on the village of Santa Thome de Rosados. These effectually blocked the way to Ciudad Rodrigo, the latter indeed being in the direct road to Tamames. Marmont determined to seize them ; and desiring Macune and Brennier to close up, with fifty pieces of cannon, he detached Thomiere, about two in the afternoon, on that perilous service. Correspondent with the French march to the left, a change of front to the right had taken place in the English army. The first and light divisions were on the left between the two Arapiles, Cole's and Leith's, in two lines, stood to the right of the French Arapile. Hope's and Clinton's divisions came next, with a Spanish corps under Don Carlos d'Espaha ; and on the extreme right of all was Pakenham's division, supported by a strong body of cavalry. Lord Wellington himself stood upon the brow of a hill, whence he could take in the entire field of operations, which was likewise exposed to the view of Marmont, who had posted himself on the Arapile. Marmont had committed a terrible mistake, which the eagle glance of his adversary at once detected. The French army was spread over too wide a space, and a gap intervened between its left and its centre. The English, on the contrary, were well in hand, and well their leader knew how to deal with them. Pa- kenham was directed to throw himself with his division, two batteries and D'Urban's cavalry, upon the French left ; Cole and Leith, supported by Clinton and Hope, were launched against their centre; while Pack's Portuguese were ordered to retake the Arapile, in the occupation of which Bonnet's division had in the early part of the day anticipated them. The battle which ensued, though fierce and bloody, lasted scarcely an hour. It was never for a moment doubtful. Marmont saw, when too late, the error of which he had been guilty, and did his best to retrieve it. But he had to deal with a general who never permitted an advantage once obtained to be wrested from him. It is but fair to add that the fortune of war greatly favoured the assailants. Marmont, struck in the arm by a round shot while in the act of hurrying up Macune's and Thomiere's divisions, was 1812. BATTLE OF SALAMANCA. 203 carried from the field. Thomiere, on whom the command devolved, received at the same instant a wound which disabled him, and Bonnet, the next in seniority, was almost immediately afterwards struck down. Before Clausel could come up from the extreme right, all was confusion on the left and in the centre, and there remained for him only the task, by no means an easy one, of saving as he best could the wreck of the army. Clausel's efforts were much favoured by the obstinacy with which Bonnet's troops maintained themselves on the Arapile. They re- pulsed Pack's Portuguese, though sustained by Cole's 4th English division, and were not driven off till Lord Wellington was able to send the 6th division likewise against them. This enabled Clausel to establish a nucleus on his right, round which the fugitives from the left and centre gathered as they came in ; while Foy's division, hitherto little engaged, became a rear-guard, and did its work well. Foy seized a wood, which he held with great tenacity ; but that which alone saved the French from destruction was the closing in of night. It was dusk when Wellington fell upon Foy ; it was quite dark before the French could be dislodged. The right of the English army, which had borne the brunt of the battle, accordingly bivouacked on the ground thus won, while the vanquished moved off in tolerable order towards Alba de Tormes. Lord Wellington still remained ignorant of the fact that the Castle of Alba de Tormes had fallen into the enemy's hands. D'Espana, though serving under him, had made no report of the withdrawal of the Spanish garrison, and Wellington, expecting to find the French crowded at the fords about Huerta, pushed on with the left of his army in that direction. Had he been better informed, and taken the road, as he might have done, that night to Alba de Tormes, very few of the fugitives could have escaped. As it was he discovered his mistake only towards morning, when orders were sent for the right to move rapidly on the Tormes. By this time, however, the enemy were across. Their rear, consisting of infantry and cavalry, was overtaken at a height called La Serna, and immediately charged by Bock's heavy dragoons. The cavalry fled without striking a blow, and the infantry, ridden through and through, dispersed, leaving three battalions prisoners in the hands of the English. The battle of Salamanca was by far the most decisive which had as yet been fought in the Peninsula. It established Lord Wel- lington's character as a tactician beyond the reach of cavil. Never were troops better handled than in all the manoeuvring which preceded it ; never was coup cVceil more correct, nor execution more rapid, than in the detection of Marmont's blot, and in the 204 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1812. manner of striking it. It was not Wellington's intention to fight at all, if he could avoid it. He received intelligence during the night of the 21st, that reinforcements of cavalry and artillery, which were already on their march, had actually joined, and he felt that it would be rash to seek a struggle with superior numbers. But Marmont's anxiety to cut him off from his base, led to that over-extension of the French line, the consequence of which, if promptly dealt with, Wellington saw in a moment. In a moment he took advantage of it ; and the battle ensued, which, according to M. Thebaudeau, " settled the question of the French occupation of Spain." The immediate consequence to Wellington of this great victory was his advancement another step in the British Peerage. He had been created, after the fall of Ciudad Eodrigo and Badajos, Earl; he was now made Marquess of Wellington, with an addition to his coat of arms. The Spanish Government had already advanced him to the dignity of Grandee of Spain, by the title of Duke of Ciudad Eodrigo. They gave him the order of the Golden Fleece, and meditated creating him Generalissimo of the Spanish armies, which purpose they carried into effect in the course of the following September. Almost at the same time he became Marquess of Torres Vedras in the kingdom of Portugal. This accumulation of honours he received neither with unbe- coming elevation, nor with affected indifference. They added nothing to his real greatness, and he knew it; but they were evidences of the gratitude of the countries which he had served, and as such he valued them. There were brought into the field in the battle of Salamanca, on the part of the French, about 43,000 men. On that of the Allies, including 3500 Spaniards, 46,400. The loss on both sides was heavy. Lord Wellington estimated the enemy's killed and wounded at 6000; the killed, wounded, and missing in the Allied army amounted to 5220. It is a curious fact that, with the exception of two Spaniards killed and four wounded, all this loss fell upon the English and Portuguese. Of British killed there were 388, of Portuguese 304. Of British wounded, 2714, of Portuguese 1552. The missing from the British ranks were only 74, from the ranks of the Portuguese 182. Of prisoners, the Allies made that day between 6000 and 7000, among whom were 1 general, 3 colonels, 3 lieutenant-colo- nels, and 130 inferior officers; 11 pieces of cannon, 2 eagles, 4 stands of colours, and many ammunition waggons fell likewise into their hands. It was, in fact, the most complete rout which the French armies had sustained since the commencement of the war. 1812. EFFECT OF THE VICTORY. 205 and its effect upon the morale, both of officers and men, never ceased to be felt till the war came to an end. One excellent result of the victory of Salamanca was this, that it put a stop for ever to secret negotiations between the Cortes and King Joseph. The report of it spread likewise with startling effect throughout Europe. Napoleon heard of it during his march to Moscow, and accepted it as the first dark cloud in his own horizon. It encourao-ed the Eussians to make fresh sacrifices, and awakened in Grermany dreams of coming deliverance. On the im- mediate theatre of the contest its influence was most important, and would have been still more so, had the expedition from Sicily been somewhat more advanced. The army of Portugal became com- pletely separated from the army of the centre, and Wellington was left free to choose against which of the two his future efforts should be directed. Had he followed up Clausel, he might have forced him, and Cafferelli with him, to the roots of the Pyi-enees. But besides that a long march in that direction must have carried him ahead of his supplies, it would have exposed his communications to be interrupted by the King, and given time for Soult to come up from Andalusia, and Suchet, in whole or in part, from the Eastern Provinces. On the other hand, there were political considerations which urged Wellington to attempt the deliverance of Madrid. He might or might not be able to maintain a permanent hold upon it. That was a contingency which the Spanish nation, rather than the English general, must settle. But the occupation of the capital, even for a time, could hardly fail of rousing the energies of the people, which had begun of late very much to decline. Looking to these points in all their bearings, Wellington determined to make Jovseph the immediate object of his care; and circumstances contributed not a little to facilitate the arrange- ment. Joseph had written on the 3rd of June to Marmont, informing him that he should not be able to march to his support. Changing his mind, however, he broke up from Madrid on the 21st of July, with 14,000 men and twenty pieces of cannon, and arrived on the 24th as near to the Tormes as Blasco Sancho. There a despatch from Clausel, dated Valladolid, reached him, explaining the con- dition of the defeated army, and imploring the King to rejoin it on the further side of the Douro. But the same considerations which weighed wdth Wellington, weighed with Joseph. He dreaded the effect of abandoning Madrid, and replied to Clausel, by instructing him to double back upon the capital, halting, however, at Segovia, whither he himself was about to proceed. WTiile the two French chiefs thus looked to each other for support, Wellington promptly 206 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OP WELLINGTON. 1812. interfered to prevent their junction. He saw Clausel across the Douro, placed a Spanish corps in Valladolid, and leaving a division with some cavalry to watch the course of the river, turned sharp, with the rest of his army, upon the King. Joseph did not abide his coming. He retreated through the mountains upon Madrid, and waiting there only till his followers and baggage could be got together, evacuated the city, and fell back in the direction of the Tagus. Lord Wellington has been blamed by military critics, first for stopping short in his pursuit of Clausel at the Douro, and next for allowing Joseph, encumbered as he was, to escape across the Tagus. The charge in the former case is sufficiently met by the reasons which we have adduced, and of which the force is ad- mitted by Jomini, no mean judge in such questions. For the latter act of apparent neglect, it is not easy to account. M. Brial- mont seems to attribute the circumstance to pity, or else to a per- suasion that an enemy so beset with useless followers could be formidable only to himself. We cannot say that we are of this opinion. It appears to us, that for once the great leader of the Allies failed to take a comprehensive view of his chess-board, and that Joseph's safety was owing to Wellington's remissness. At the same time it is just to observe, that Wellington had many other, and not less important matters, to attend to. His troops were greatly fatigued, and his cavalry in particular, not at any time his most efficient arm, had been a good deal crippled by an unfortunate affair with Joseph's rear guard in the gorges of the Guaderama. For this, and probably for other reasons which we are not quite able to detect. Lord Wellington spared the intrusive King, who, after a disorderly halt at Val-de-moro, crossed the Tagus and was safe. 1812. ENTRY INTO MADEID. 207 CHAP. XVI. "\^T;LLINGT0N in aiADUID. — he moves to the NOETH. — SIEGE OF BTJRGGS. — ■ JUNCTION OF JOSEPH, STTCHET, AND SOTJLT. — FAILITRE BEFORE BURGOS. — RETREAT INTO PORTUGAX. — WINTER QUARTERS. On the 12th of August Wellington entered Madrid. His reception was enthusiastic in the extreme. Every street was strewed with flowers^ the front of every house was covered with tapestry and pictures. Carpets were spread upon the pavements, and from windows and house-tops, ladies dressed in their holiday attire looked down and cheered him. Priests, hidalgos, citizens crowded round his horse as he passed along and rent the air with their shouts ; and when at last he alighted, the women rushed forward and struo-pfled to receive him in their arms. Illuminations, balls, and theatrical performances followed when night closed in ; indeed, the whole city, to use his own expression, seemed to have gone mad. But he, calm and collected while he gracefully acknow- ledged the compliments paid him, did not for a moment overlook the claims of duty. That very day the siege of the Eetiro was formed. It is a sort of castle dominating over Madrid, in which Joseph had left a garrison, and wherein a large amount of military stores was deposited. A triple enceinte of regular walls seemed to give promise of some resistance. But the promise was imperfectly fulfilled. The outer line being stormed, guns and mortars were brought to bear upon the rest, and on the second day 1700 men laid down their arms — 180 serviceable guns, with 20,000 stand of small arms, falling at the same time into the hands of the victors. From that date up to the 1st of September, Lord Wellington remained in Madrid ; and it may not be amiss if we take advantage of the opportunity to bring before the reader a bird's eye view of the state at which the war in the Peninsula had now arrived. For some time previously Napoleon had begun to withdraw corps after corps of his best troops from Spain. The old guard were all gone, and a considerable portion of the young guard; there remained, how- ever, over and above numerous garrisons, four moveable armies, — that of the north, that of Portugal, that of the centre, and that of the south. There was also Souchet's corps, which, in the absence 208 MEMOIE OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 181-2. of a more appropriate title, may be spoken of as the army of the east. The army of the north, still commanded by Cafferelli, had been much weakened. It could not now bring more than 15,000 or 20,000 men into the field. It kept open, as before, the communications with France through Biscay, and watched the western sea-board from Corunna to the mouth of the Adour. It was in constant communication with the army of Portugal, and might at any moment convey 10,000 or 12,000 good troops to its support. The army of Portugal, now commanded by Clausel, stood fast between Valladolid and Burgos, and began in due time to feel its way again in the direction of the former town. In spite of the loss which it had sustained in the battle of Salamanca, it succeeded, by calling in detachments, and carrying off the garrisons from such places as Toro and Zamora, in raising its effective strength to 35,000 men. It had also strong depots at Bayonne, which made every exertion to keep its numbers comjilete. The army of the centre, having Joseph and Marshal Jourdain at its head, mustered from 17,000 to 20,000 good troops, of which 2500 were cavalry. It had halted at Ocaiia in order to communi- cate with Soult and arrange a plan of future operations ; of which, and of the results ai'ising out of them, we shall speak when the proper time comes. The army of the south, or Soult's army, still retained its hold upon Andalusia. A portion of it lay in and about Seville, the main body was employed in the siege of Cadiz. The total strength, including Drouet's corps, 12,000 or 14,000 men, could not fall much short of 40,000. Drouet being, however, detached in observation of Hill, Soult could scarcely reckon on bringing more than 25,000 effectives into the field. His troops were in the best state of equipment, and received ample supplies from the rich province of which they were masters. The exact strength of Suchet's corps it is not so easy to determine. He had under his orders about 35,000 or perhaps 40,000 men in all. But being forced to garrison Tarragona and other places along the coast, as well as to keep open his communi- cations with France, his disposable columns would not exceed 25,000 men. Thus the total strength of the French armies, available for operations in the field, may be taken at about 120,000, a little more or a little less. Lord Wellington's recent successes had, however, so divided them, that they could scarcely hope within reasonable time to bring against him from any quarter 50,000 at the most. Looking to the other side we find, that whatever the hopes of 1812. EELATIVE STEENGTH OF Tlltl ARMIES. 209 the Allies might be, they depended entirely upon Lord Wellington and his Anglo-Portuguese troops. Such regular corps as the Spaniards were at one time able to exhibit, had ceased virtually to exist. The best of their infantry and artillery were in South America. The cavalry was, for all useful purposes, extinct. Three or four armies, as they continued to be called, held indeed together in as many different provinces. But the most important of them could muster barely 12,000 men. The rest will be estimated above their average strength if we take them at 5000 respectively. Of their military qualities an estimate may be formed from the opinion expressed in the following extract: — "If," writes Lord Wellington at this time, in reference to the army of Grallicia, the most effective of the whole, " I had conceived 8000 Spaniards to be equal to 4000 men of any other nation, I should have recommended him (Cfeneral Santocildes) to maintain the blockade of Zamora, and to cover the siege of Astorga."* The other armies were those of Balasteros in Estremadura, of Eoche, and of O'Donnell in Alicante and Catalonia, and that of Castaiios, which seemed for a while to have hidden itself, but which appeared by and by at Lugos. As to the guerillas, even they were beginning to lose their activity. After deploring the state into which Spain had fallen ; the inefficiency of its men in power, the ignorance of its military officers, the total want of discipline among its troops, Lord Wellington goes on to say : " What can be done for this lost nation? As for raising men or supplies, 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." f In estimating the resources of the Allies at this period, it is clear, therefore, that little account can be taken of the Spaniards. Friendly they doubtless were, in one sense of the term ; that is to say, they hated the French, and were as vigilant in intercepting the correspondence and stopping the supplies of the invaders, as they were anxious to keep the English general informed of all that went on in the enemy's camps. But beyond this, and this was the act of individuals, the Spanish nation did very little. Lord Wel- lington's advice was, by the Gruvernment, systematically neglected ; * Letlor to Sir 11. Wellosley, 23r.l of August, 1812. f Ibid. P 210 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1812. almost all his orders were disobeyed by the generals; the civil magistrates took no care to furnish him with supplies and means of transport ; nor could he always procure what was indispen- sable for the subsistence of his troops, even by paying an inordinate price for it. Now his own Grovernment never supplied him as it ought to have done with money, and his promissory notes, though available in Portugal, were as yet worthless in Spain. He suffered in consequence from time to time great privations, which were never so embarrassing as now, when to the careless observer the tide seemed to be setting strong in his favour. The army under his orders in and about Madrid, amounted on paper to between 40,000 and 50,000 men ; 15,000 of these were however, Spaniards, and his British and Portuguese, on whom alone he could rely, happened to be sickly to an unusual extent. Clinton, with one infantry division and two brigades of cavalry, observed the course of the Douro, and communicated with Santo-cildes, on the Eslar, and with a body of Portuguese militia, which had crossed the frontier, and taken post in Tras-os-Montes. Meanwhile Hill, who was in Estremadura with 14,000 or 15,000 men, watched Drouet and Soult ; and finally the long-expected force from Sicily made its appearance. Unfortunately, however, the leaders of that corps did not go to their work in any hopeful spirit. General Maitland's letters, on the contrary (for he was at this time in com- mand of the expedition), express utter despondency. This Wel- lington met, by assuming at once all the responsibility of the service, and by explaining that the usefulness of the corps was not to be measured by the amount of success which might attend it in the field. It had been called in for one purpose only, viz., to distract the enemy's attention, and to hinder him from concen- trating his entire force upon a single point, and so long as that object was attained, its leader would play the part which his Gro- vernment had allotted to him. General Maitland's mind appears to have been tranquillised by these assiirances ; but he landed his troops, not where Lord Wellington desired to have them, and the consequence was that they failed to exercise over the present cam- paign the influence which had been anticipated. It is strikingly illustrative of the importance attached by both parties to the occupation of Andalusia, that Lord Wellington and Soult (the latter the ablest of all the French generals then in Spain), were alike desirous of transferring the seat of war to that province. In a letter to Sir Henry Wellesley, bearing date the 16th of August, Lord Wellington says, " The King is decidedly off to Va- lencia ; and I hope now to be able to clear out Andalusia, by a direct movement on that kingdom before the year closes." Mean- 1812. SOULTS PLAN OF CAMPAiaN. 211 while Soult, though urgently required by Joseph to come to his assistance, refused to stir. " Why withdraw," he wrote. " What harm can arise from the occupation of the centre of Spain by the Allies ? Your IMajesty ought to unite the army of the centre, the army of Aragon, and if it be possible that of Portugal, and come with the whole into Andalusia, — even if the kingdom of Valencia itself should be evacuated. I will take care that the army shall find in Andalusia magazines of provisions and ammunition, as well as places of strength. The moment 80,000 French troops are collected in that province, the theatre of war will be changed. The English general must retire in order to save Lisbon. The army of Portugal will follow him to the Tagus, the line of com- munication will be re-established by the east coast, and the cam- paign Avill end in our favour. Evacuate Andalusia on the other hand, and you lose Spain." Soult's plan has received the high sanction of Napoleon's ap- proval. He heard of it when in Eussia, and learned at the same time, much to his disgust, that it had been over-ruled. For Joseph was bent, first on saving and then on recovering Madrid ; and with this object in view, he prevailed upon Soult to raise the siege of Cadiz, and to march towards Valencia. The movement began on the 25th of August, and was attended by an enormous sacrifice both of stores and materiel. But it changed the plan of the cam- paign, and led to results such as we now proceed to describe. We have seen that while Soult held with extreme tenacity his conquests in Andalusia, Wellington was considering with himself how the enemy might most effectually and speedily be driven out of that province. He directed Greneral Cook, who commanded the British force in Cadiz, to harass by every means in his power the French blockading army ; and was preparing himself to march through the Sierra Morena, when intelligence came in which induced him to suspend that operation. The army of Portugal, considerably reinforced, was beginning to resume the offensive. General Foy's division had driven Santo-cildes from Valladolid, and carried off the garrisons of Toro and Zamora, while strong patrols of cavalry crossed the Douro, and caused much anxiety both at Cuellar and Salamanca. It was necessary before anything could be undertaken in the south, to put a permanent stop to these annoyances, and to render perfectly secure the transit by Salamanca, Ciudad Eodrigo, and Almeida, which still formed and must continue to form for some time to come, the main line of communication between Lisbon and the British army. Having instructed Hill, after pressing Drouet, to move in such P 2 212 MEMOm OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1812. a direction as that lie might be at hand to cover Madrid, Lord Wellington left two divisions of Anglo-Portuguese in and about the capital, and moved off with the rest to strike at Souham. He passed through Arevalo, gathering up Clinton's divisions as he w^ent, and on the 7th entered Valladolid. The enemy had with- drawn from it only in the course of the previous night ; and now retired before him in the best possible order. Day by day they offered battle, which Wellington evaded rather than declined ; and on the 1 6th took up a position with the view as it appeared of covering Burgos. At last Wellington seemed to have achieved bis object. He had been joined at Palencia by the army of Grallicia, about 11,300 strong: and he now made his preparations to fight a battle on the morrow which he hoped to render decisive. But the enemy perceiving that he had received reinforcements, declined the combat. They broke up the same day, and retired through Burgos, carrying with them every disposable man beyond the number which would be sufficient to hold the castle for a fort- nio'ht or three weeks. The army which thus fell back before Lord Wellington was, in point of numbers at least, as strong as his own. It amounted, in- clusive of Caffarelli's corps, to 41,000 men, whereas he had under his orders, besides the Spaniards, only four divisions of infantry and three brigades of cavalry. But this was not all. The position of Burgos embarrassed Wellington greatly, because the passages of the Arlanzon, as well as the roads leading up to them, lay under the guns of the castle. The consequence was that the 18th arrived before he succeeded in passing the river, which he did in two columns, one above, the other below the town. His next object was to reduce the castle itself. But there his difficulties began. Not having calculated on being involved in a regular siege, he found himself destitute of the means of conducting one, yet con- strained by the force of circumstances to embark in an undertaking of the success of which his letters show, that from the outset he was very doubtful. The town of Burgos lies upon a plain, and is every where open. The castle crowns a height above the town, and consists of a keep surrounded by an outer wall. Towards the town are two convents and a church, the latter of which the French had greatly strength- ened ; while on the other side they had thrown up redoubts, and connected them by a line of retrenchments. A triple line of wall and ditch thus surrounded the place, while on a high ground called Mount St. Michael, which overlooks these enceintes, they had established a horn-work. Lord Wellington's first object was to make a lodgment on Mount St. Michael. Tliis was done before noon on the 18th, and the same evening the hern-work itself was 1812. BURGOS ASSAULTED. 213 stormed and taken. There, however, the triurajshs of the besiegers came to an end. It Avas necessary that they shouki open trenches, and establish batteries against the onter wall, which they did. But their siege train consisted of only two 18-pounders, with 300 rounds per gun, and five 24-pound howitzers, not more efficiently supplied. Such a stock of ammunition was soon expended, and the effect upon the battered wall proved altogether inadequate. In such an emergency an escalade was attempted and failed. This was on the 22nd, and on the 24th saps were pushed within a few yards of the glacis, and galleries begun. But with men wholly uninstructed, the progress of the gallery was slow, and the effect of the mine, which was sprung on the 29th, disappointed everybody. A second mine, exploded on the 4th of October, served its purpose better, and a body of English troops succeeded in forming a lodg- ment with gabions on the slope of the breach. But a sortie in force, two hours before daylight on the morrow, drove them back, and a great portion of their defences was overturned. It was a temporary disaster which the determination of the besiegers soon repaired, and the effect of a flying sap was tried with some success against the retrenchment. Again, however, the enemy made a sortie, surprised the guard of the trenches, carried away the tools, and undid in an hour what days had been spent in effecting. By this time a supply of ammunition had arrived, and a few more battering guns were mounted. They fired steadily upon the second enceinte, while the church which communicates with the town was undermined, and red-hot shot thrown into the convent. A certain measure of success attended each of these efforts ; but a failure in musket ammunition prevented Lord Wellington from taking advantage of it, and the enemy were enabled to clear away by night all the rubbish which was thrown down in the course of the day. At last, on the 18th, the preparations of the besiegers were complete. The mine under the church was exploded. One storm- ing party rushed in and took possession of the ruins ; another threw itself upon the breach which the guns had opened ; a third, sup- plied with ladders, escaladed where the old mine had taken effect. For a moment victory seemed to hang in the balance, but it was only for a moment. A counter-mine blew into the air about 300 of the brave men who had entered the church. The escalade was kept down by an overwhelming fire; and the assailants at the main breach, after penetrating to the terre-pleine of the redoubt, were attacked in front, rear, and both flanks, and compelled to retire. It would be difficult to decide whether by the assailants or de- fenders a greater amount of courage was displayed during this desperate siege. Perhaps the balance of skill, certainly that of P 3 214 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTOJf. J 812. appliances, was on the side of the defenders ; and skill and appli- ances prevailed on this as they must on all occasions against mere courage, if with equal courage it be resisted. The loss of the besiegers greatly exceeded that of the besieged. In this last assault alone there fell 274 officers and men, which being added to the casualties which occurred on previous occasions, raised the gross amount to not fewer than 1565. This was the more to be dejjlored that Lord Wellington, before the siege began, was fully aware of the inadequacy of the means at his disposal, and an offer was made to bring up from Santander, off which port Sir Hugh Popham's squadron lay, ships' guns taken to pieces, and drao-ged over the hills on the trunks of trees. As he would not listen to his chiefs of artillery and engineers at the outset, so he refused to be guided at a later stage in the operation by the coun- sels of Sir Howard Douglass. And the result was the only decisive repulse, which in the course of twenty years of active warfare, he ever, as the commander of an army, sustained. Lord Wellington's situation had all this while been critical in the extreme. He carried on the siege with two divisions only, having placed the rest of his army in advance of the town at Mo- nasterio to cover the operation. Already on the 18th, the day of the final assault, the position at Monasterio was threatened, and in the course of the 20th a letter arrived from Hill announcing that Joseph was in full march with his own and Soult's corps upon Madrid. Had Souham, now commanding in his front, alone threatened him, it is more than probable that Lord Wellington would have risked a battle rather than abandon his great enterprise. Under existing circumstances he was not slow to perceive that one course alone was open to him. He quietly disarmed his batteries, removed such stores as were worth saving, and made every prepa- ration for a movement to the rear. The junction of the King's with Suchet's corps had been effected at Valencia about the 8th of September. Soult's army did not come up till the 3rd of October, and the first personal interview between him and Joseph took place at Fuente de Nigara on the frontiers of Murcia. It was a stormy meeting, which is little to be wondered at, inasmuch as Soult's correspondence with the Emperor had fallen into Joseph's hands, and Joseph found himself represented there as in league with his relative Bernadotte, and with the Eussians, and with the English, against France. But the times were not such as to admit of personal quarrels being carried to an extremity. Besides Joseph, though in writing to his brother he desired to be relieved as soon as possible from Soult's presence, was too magnanimous as well as too prudent to attempt an 3^ hostile 1812. JOSEPH MOVES ON THE TAGUS. 015 proceeding on the spot. On the contrary, he invited Soult, after the first burst of anger subsided, to take part with Jourdain and Suchet in a council of war, and heard from each his opinion re- specting the plan of operations to be adopted, and the reasons why he preferred it to all others. The views of the three marshals differed a good deal, both as to the objects to be sought and the means of seeking them. Soult recommended that the army of Andalusia, taking with it the army of the centre, and part of that of Arragon, should cross La Mancha to the Tagus, pass the river and march upon Madrid. Suchet, adhering to an opinion which he never abandoned throughout the war, insisted that to evacuate Valencia would be fatal to the cause of the King. He advised that the armies of Andalusia and of the centre should move into the province of Gruadalaxara ; that they should force the passage of the Tagus ; that having effected that object they should break up into two corps, the army of the centre halting at Cuenca, while that of Andalusia extending by Calatayud through Madrid, should communicate by Soria with the army of Portugal. Marshal Jourdain objected to both projects, and, de- siring to carry as large a force as possible against the English, proposed to leave the army of Arragon in Valencia, and to march with those of Andalusia and of the centre, in two unequal columns upon the Tagus. The stronger of the two columns, to consist of 40,000 men, was to proceed through La Mancha by Chincilla, Ocana, and Aranjuez ; the weaker, comprising about 16,000, was to follow the Cuenca Eoad, traversing Cuenca and Fuente Duena. The columns were to be in constant communication on the march, and to arrive at the same time with 100 guns at some point on the Tagus, which should previously be selected. There can be no question as to the superior merits of this last over the other plans, and Joseph, in spite of a stout opposition on the jDart of Soult, de- termined to act upon it. He divided the army as Jourdain had proposed, and the two columns began their march on the 18th and 20th of October, respectively. It was on the latter of these days that Hill's messenger arrived at Burgos with tidings that the King, Suchet, and Soult had united their strength. There could be but one object in this con- centration, and there was only one mode of averting the danger which it threatened. Wellington could not hope to maintain his advanced position ; Hill was not in sufficient strength to protect IMadrid. The latter received instructions to abandon the defence of the Tagus, and to form a junction with the main army on the Adaja; the former waited only till nightfall on the 21st, and then quietly withdrew from his lines. p 4 216 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLIXGTON. 1812. There was considerable danger in tins movement. The only bridge by which the Arlanzon could be crossed lay directly under the guns of the castle, and to pass cavalry and artillery over it, without attracting attention, seemed no easy matter. By wrap- ping the wheels round with straw the roll of the carriages was deadened, and infantry and cavalry trod slowly if not lightly as they marched. The leading division thus got across unnoticed. But a body of mounted guerillas came next, and these, in defiance of orders, put their horses to the gallop. A fire was immediately opened upon the bridge, which caused some loss. Yet the loss was much less severe than might have been anticipated, and in other resjDects matters were so well arranged that the retreating army gained full twenty-four hours upon the enemy before the abandonment of the position at Monasterio became known. The situation of Lord Wellington was, at this moment, as critical as any into which the leader of an army has ever been thrown. One enemy pressed him closely in the rear, superior in numbers, and, except as regarded the English alone, infinitely surpassing him in the composition of his troops. Another enemy was marching upon his communications at the head of a force still stronger, and quite as efficient. JMean while he had three separate objects to attend to. He had to look in one direction to the safety of a brigade of Guards, which having recently landed at Corunna, was on the march to join him. He had to hold out the hand to Hill, in another direction, who was pressing forward to reach him by the right; and he had to provide for his own safety and the protection of his depots in the rear. And all this in the face of a pm'suit, which though not begun till the evening of the 22nd, was pushed thenceforth with equal tenacity and skill. On the 23rd his rear was sharply en- gaged at the Vinta de Pozo. The same day he passed the Pisuerga, and next evening establishing himself in a good position behind the Carrion, waited there till the Grviards could come up. The brigade arrived on the 25th, and so far all was satisfactory. They had well-nigh received the same day their baptism of fire, for Wellington was determined rather than lose his hold upon them, to accept a battle if it were offered. But Souham, having surprised the bridges at Palencia and Torriago, got round the English position and it ceased to be tenable. Wellington accordingly broke up, and arrived early on the 26th at Carbeson. Before beginning the march, however, he sent orders to guard well the bridges of Tudela, Valladolid, Simancas, and Tordesillas, the retention of which was necessary to render safe his movements on the other side of the Douro. And in order to gain time, he stood fast at Carbeson, and offered battle. It was not 1812. HILL AND WELLINGTON COMMUNICATE. 217 Soiiham's policy, however, to figbt. His instructions were to im- pede Wellington, and if possible to stop bim till tbe King and Soult sbould come up, witb wbicb view, and in the hope of seizing the bridges, he filed of in the direction of Valladolid, Simancas, and Tordesillas. Fortunately for Wellington, the bridges of Val- hidolid and Simancas held out ; that at Tordesillas was sm-prised by Captain Gruingret, who, with sixty officers and men, swam the river at night, carrying their swords between their teeth, and naked as they were, attacked and stormed an old tower in which the guard was posted. When Wellington, who in the interval had crossed the Douro at Tudela and Puente de Douro, became aware of that gallant act, he caused the bridges at Valladolid and Carbe- zon to be broken down, and concentrating his army at Eueda, in rear of Tordesillas, made ready to dispute the passage of the river should the enemy attempt it. This movement, together with the destruction of the bridges of Toro and Zamora, secured Wellington's communications with Hill. For that officer, with excellent judgment, had retired as the King approached, through the G-uadarama pass, disembarrassing his mind of all care for Lisbon, which he would have more cer- tainly covered had he moved by the valley of the Tagus. His stores and pontoons he committed to the flames, and traversing Madrid, drew his divisions together on the 31st of October at Ma- jadahonda. He was followed, though not very briskly, by Soult as far as Arivolas, where Joseph, also, after a brief stay in Madrid, arrived on the 4th of November. From Majadahonda Hill was preparing to close in, when Lord Wellington received intelligence that Souham had restored the bridge at Toro, and was passing the Douro. To remain one day longer on the Adaja would have compromised his rear. He sent orders, therefore, to Hill to move upon Alba de Tormes, while he himself took the road from Tordesillas to San Christoval. From that moment all chance of interposing between Hill and Wellington was taken away from Joseph. There remained for him, therefore, no course except to unite, as speedily as possible, his own force with Souham's army, and then to bring the English to a general action, under circumstances the most favourable which might happen to present themselves. The former of these objects a concentric movement upon Medina del Campo brought about. The latter was missed through deference to Soult's opinion, who certainly, on that occasion, showed himself neither so far-sighted nor so bold as Marshal Jourdain. The numbers of the French army, thus brought together, did not fall short of 90,000; of these 12,000 were cavalry, and the ar- 218 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTOX. 1812. tillery numbered 120 pieces. The Allies could bring into line about 60,000, inclusive of 8000 or 10,000 Spaniards. Their cavalry amounted to 4000 sabres; their artillery to 70 pieces. The men were without shoes and in rags ; the horses scarcely able to do their work. Discipline had been terribly shaken by the long re- treat, and provisions and forage were scarce. Still Lord Wellington was willing to receive a battle. He had taken up a position on the right of the Tormes, which, though open to one serious objec- tion, was upon the whole very strong. His right, under Hill, was at Alba de Tormes; his left at San Christoval. The distance be- tween these extreme points might be five leagues, and the centre, which embraced La Calvariza di Ariba, showed in consequence but few troops. Jourdain was anxious to ford the Tormes there, and driving back these troops, to envelope Hill, whom Lord Wellington could be restrained from supporting by a formation across his line of march. To Soult this project appeared too perilous. He was afraid to thrust his columns between Wellington on one flank and Hill on the other. He proposed, therefore, to cross the river two leagues above Alba, and, turning the English left, to fall upon their line of communication with Ciudad Eodrigo. This plan re- sembled in all its essential points that on which Marmont had acted, and in the midst of which he had been surprised by the battle of Salamanca. Marshal Jourdain, a modest man, did not pretend to set up his own judgment in opposition to that of Soult, and fortunately, perhaps, for Lord Wellington and England, the advice of Soult was followed. At an early hour on the morning of the 14th, Soult, to whom the command of the armies of the south and of the centre was committed, passed the Tormes by the fords of Galisancho. He found the opposite bank but loosely guarded, and closed in, well- nigh unopposed, upon Alba. Without loss of time Hill withdrew the garrison from that place, and fell back with his corps towards the centre. Once again, pretty much in the order which he had observed in the previous June, Wellington occupied the position of Arapiles. There he expected to be attacked on the morrow ; but Soult, with his usual hesitation, withheld the blow, and con- tinued to extend his left so as to approach the Ciudad Eodrigo road. There was no mistaking the object of that move. Though it was in the full light of day, only two o'clock in the afternoon, Wellington took the bold resolution to counteract it, and in three columns, parallel with Soult's line of battle, he defiled his whole army within cannon-shot of the enemy's batteries. Had there l3een in Soult the same promptitude and boldness which charac- terised his adversary, Wellington, whether victorious or defeated. 1812. RETREAT TO THE AGUEDA. iil9 in the melee, must have paid dear for that operation. As it Avas, the operation succeeded, because no attempt was made to interrupt it ; for which, perhaps, the sudden coming on of a heavy storm of rain and mist, may in some degree account. Having thus extricated himself from a situation of great danger. Lord Wellington continued his march to the rear, throughout the 16th, l7th, and 18th, without halting. The weather was most in- clement. Cold rains deluged the earth, and swelled the streams, while the roads, which ran for the most part through woods of cork-trees, became all but impassable. It is not under any cir- cumstances easy to keep an army in retreat regularly sujjplied. On the present occasion the commissariat seemed to break down, and the men suffered severe privations. They were guilty, also, of great irregularities. The woods happened to be full of swine, and the men kept up a tantalising fire of musketry upon the ■ animals, as often as they showed themselves. This was the more inconvenient that the enemy pressed upon the rear of the columns, and it was not always easy to determine whether or not a serious engagement had taken place. On the whole, however, the retreat was conducted, if not in perfect order, certainly without serious loss. As often as the French advance came up with the English rear, it was driven back ; and, indeed, but for the unfortunate capture of Sir Edward Paget, Lord Wellington's second in com- mand, who, 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 immediately to pass. In the course of the 20th the whole of the divisions were across, and prepared to go into cantonments 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 Wellington, sending Hill towards the Tagus, that he might occupy Coria, Palencia, and Bejar, placed his people under cover, and fixed his own head-quarters at Frenada. If the results of this campaign were not so brilliant as Lord Wel- lington had a right at one time to anticipate, the effect produced by it upon the general issues of the war can scarcely be over-rated. The battle of Salamanca, alone, was worth to England more than all the sacrifices which she made in order to achieve it. Certainly if the Spaniards had done their part, and Wellington had found himself again a victor on the Guadalquivir, the Peninsula might have been 220 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OP WELLINGTON. 1812. freed before the winter set in, up to the Ebro, perhaps to the Py- renees. But though forced, through the supineness of some and the disobedience of others, to restrict his care to the north, he yet compelled the enemy by the boldness of his movements to relin- quish many advantages which they had obtained elsewhere. The siege of Cadiz, for example, was raised, Andalusia was evacuated, all the depots in the north, the east, and the south, were aban- doned. Since the beginning of the year they had lost to him 20,000 prisoners, and little short of 3000 pieces of cannon ; and they were now, though still formidable, invested, so to speak, in the heart of Spain. In their front were the Anglo-Portuguese, Maitland was in Catalonia ; on either flank were British squadrons, and clouds of guerillas all round them from the Pyrenees up to Gibraltar. The superiority, also, of British over French troops was fully established, and on every occasion the English leader had out-manoeuvred and out-marched his opponents. The ill-con- duct of his allies stood indeed in the way of Wellington's perfect triumph on the present occasion. But it could not rob him of the satisfactory conviction that whatever human strength and skill were able to effect had been effected ; or stop him from making preparations for the still more glorious campaign of which it will be our business, presently, to tell the tale. 1812. EFFECT OF THE RETREAT. 221 CHAP. XVII. LORD WELLINGTON AT CADIZ. — PREPARATIONS FOR THE CAMPAIGN OF 181.3. MARCH ON BURGOS. — BURGOS BLOWN UP. — MARCH ON TITTORIA. — BATTLE OF TITTORIA. It is strikingly illustrative of the instability of what is called public opinion, that the retreat of the British army from Burgos to the Coa obliterated, for a moment, whatever impression the victory at Salamanca and the occupation of Madrid had produced. The Spanish Cortes began again to intrigue with Joseph. Many Spa- nish nobles went over to him openly, and he was able to raise, in Spain, both troops for his army, and seamen for the French fleet. The Portuguese Eegency grew in like manner so restive that Lord Wellington was forced to appeal from them to the court of Brazil, and to urge upon the Prince liegent the propriety of his coming over to Europe, and placing himself at the head of the govern- ment. Even in England a clamour arose, not so much against the general as against the cabinet from which he received his authority, and in which Lord Wellesley, no longer himself in office, took, very much to his brother's annoyance, a leading part. Not that the British Government was by any means so blameless as Lord Wellington, with characteristic generosity, affirmed it to be. There might be no lack of will, but there was a complete absence of talent to wield, as they ought to have been wielded, the resources of the British Empire. The army in the Peninsula, besides being kept down in point of numbers, was as ill-supplied in 1812 as it had been in 1809. The military chest was empty; the hospitals were badly served; clothing, shoes, even arms, were deficient; and cavalry and artillery alike suffered from lack of remounts. Meanwhile enormous subsidies were shipped off to Russia and Germany, which, as well as the smaller powers of the North, were bribed by England to fight their own battles. Still Lord Liverpool's government did something. The militia were en- couraged to volunteer into the line, by liberal bounties. Horses more immediately fit for service were purchased at increased prices; and assurances were given that before the season of active opera- tions came in, Wellington should be joined by strong reinforce- 222 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF AVELLINGTON. 1813. ments. But that which favoured hhn most of all, was the result of the Moscow campaign. The destruction of the grand army, and the return of Napoleon to Paris, could not long be kept secret, and the intelligence wrought a wondrous change on the moral condi- tion of the belligerents elsewhere. Spain began again to be de- nuded of French troops ; seasoned regiments were withdrawn, whose place was ill-supplied by battalions of raw recruits ; while Soult, the ablest of the French generals in the Peninsula, went off to assume the command of a corps where danger seemed more pressing. A violent reaction took place likewise among the Spanish nobility. Such of them as had gone over to the enemy repented of what they had done, while others, who had begun to waver, were confirmed in their principles of loyalty. To Portugal, in like manner, the electric shock extended. The Regency changed its tone, and expressed itself ready to hear whatever Wellington might propose, and to support him by all the means in its power. It was under such circumstances that Lord Wellington determined, during the inactive season, personally to visit Cadiz ; and his journey, though in its effects less valuable than its early promise, cannot be said to have been taken altogether in vain. Soon after establishing himself in winter quarters, Lord Wel- lington had drawn up and despatched to his brother a plan for the re-organisation of the Spanish armies. It was well received by the Cortes, and paved the way for the cordial and brilliant reception which awaited him on his arrival at Cadiz. He travelled from Frenada, by Badajos and Seville, and reached Cadiz on the 24th of December. There, as had been the case at Madrid, the peojile crowded round him. The town was illuminated; balls and theatrical representations were got up to do him honour, and on the 27th a deputation from the Cortes waited upon him at his hotel. He returned the compliment on the 30th, and delighted the assembly by appearing in the uniform of a Spanish general officer. Having acquired considerable proficiency in the Peninsular languages, he was able to address the Cortes in the dialect of Castillo. "The speech," says Count Toreno, himself an auditor on the occasion, " was simple but energetic, its force being increased rather than otherwise, by the slightly uncouth accent which accompanied it." The result was an assurance that all his suggestions should be con- sidered, and as far as possible acted upon. The many independent armies of Spain, for example, were to be reduced to three. These were to take their orders exclusively from Lord ^^''ellington, and being supplied with a proper staff of intendents, were to be fed, and otherwise provided out of their own resources. Liberal of its promises, the Cortes took no steps towards their accomplishment ; 1813. THE COKTES VIOLATES ITS PLEDGES. 223 aud so when the time for action arrived, matters were as far as ever from having attained to consistency or order. The pride both of individuals and of the nation took fire at the idea of being sub- jected to the rule of a foreigner ; and Spanish pride was then, whatever it may be now, a more influential principle than Spanish patriotism. One general resigned rather than take orders from an English chief. Another paid to these orders, when they arrived, no attention. Even the JMinister of War violated his pledges, by moving troops and changing commanders without so much as informing Lord Wellington of his intentions. " I am sorry to inform you," wrote Lord Wellington to a member of the Cortes, before a month was past, " that my intentions are entirely thwarted by the Grovernment, 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 this, that however willing 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 had any existence. If Lord Wellington had his difficulties to contend against in the supineness of the Grovernments which he served, Joseph was equally harassed at this time by the growing hostility of the Peninsular nations. However impatient he may be of the re- straints of discipline, the Spanish peasant is individually brave ; he hates also with no common hatred, and shrinks neither from toil nor from danger, in order to reach his enemy and to kill him. In proportion as the French drew in their posts, bands of guerillas came together. This was especially the case in Navarre and Biscay, where the presence of the English fleet off the coast gave a fresh impulse to the insurrection, which falling upon convoys, and cutting off small detachments, often left the invaders without any other alternative than to fight for their daily subsistence or to starve. Merciless deeds were done on both sides in the course of this irregular warfare. The guerillas gave no quarter, not even to the sick, and the French savagely retaliated. But the general result was that despatches could be conveyed between one French corps and another only under the protection of whole battalions ; and that letters from Paris to Joseph's head-quarters were often as much as two months upon the road. It was a very distressing state of things, about which the Emperor wrote to his brother in the following terms : " Hold Madrid as a point of observation only. Fix your head-quarters at Valladolid, not as king, but as general of the French forces. Concentrate round you the armies of the south, of the centre, and of Portugal. The Allies cannot make 22-t MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLIXGTOX. 1813. any offensive movement for some months to come. You ought therefore to take advantage of their forced inactivity, to put down the insurrection in the northern provinces, to recover your commu- nications with France, and to establish a good base before the commencement of another campaign ; so that the French army may be in a condition to tight the Allies if they should advance upon France." This was excellent advice. It suited well with the requirements of the period ; but Joseph proved himself incapable of understanding, far less of acting upon it. He under-rated the importance of the northern insurrection. He busied himself with administrative arrangements, when all his thoughts ought to have been directed to the war. He arrived at no decision in regard to the concentration of his troops, which were scattered over some hundreds of leagues from Valencia to the Gallician Mountains. He even persisted in asserting that Madrid was a better centre of operations than Valladolid. Had Lord Wellington been in a con- dition to avail himself of the opportunities thus presented, he might have brought in Hill from Bejar, crossed the Upper Tormes, marched upon Avillas, and destroyed the enemy in detail. As it was he felt himself constrained by the amount of sickness which prevailed in his army to remain quiet, for his men were quite unfit to take the field without great loss and suffering amid the rains of winter. Now Wellington never allowed himself to be tempted, by the prospect of a brilliant success, into even a momentary for- getfulness of final results. He had before him the task of deliver- ing the Peniiisula ; and he would not purchase glory to himself, at the price of any risk, however remote, of failure. Napoleon's instructions reached Madrid as early as the middle of February. It was the 18th of March, however, before Jourdain could persuade Joseph to act upon them. And even then the King felt himself constrained by the care due to his wounded (of which not fewer than 9000 crowded the hospitals), to the families of his officials, and to the enormous amount of plunder which they had accumulated, to take his measures slowly. Hence April was con- siderably advanced ere he established his head-quarters at Valla- dolid. But this is not all. His own arrangements for concentrating the three armies were so little judicious, that when the critical mo- ment came almost each division of each corj)s was separately in the air. The army of Portugal, for example, now reduced to six divisions, moved its head-quarters from Salamanca to Burgos. But three of these divisions were immediately detached to co-operate with Clausel, Caffarelli's successor, in putting down the guerillas in the north, and freeing the communications with France. At the same time two divisions were echeloned in front of Valencia, thus leavinar ]S13. PEEPAEATIONS FOll THE CAMrAIGN. 225 only one division at Burgos itself. Meanwhile the army of the south, or of Andalusia, quitting the Valley of the Tagus, left a division, Lavel's, in Madrid ; and placed the others, in observation of the Anglo-Portuguese, at Zamora, Toro, Salamanca, and Avila. Finally, in order to connect Lavel with the main body, one division of the army of the centre lay at Sago via, while the other occupied Valladolid. Moreover a little later in the year, Reille, who com- manded the army of Portugal, was obliged to send a fourth di- vision to Clausel, and to transfer a fifth to Breviesca. There thus remained with him a single division only, of which part lay at Burgos, and part at Palencia. Thus the French army, just as it was about to be assailed, lay scattered over a prodigious extent of country ; being exposed, at all its more remote posts, to severe privations. For the magazines which had been established in Grallicia and at Astorga were one by one abandoned. The English fleet picked up every coaster which attempted to convey stores by sea : and swarms of guerillas infested every highway and bye-road both in Leon and Biscay. As a climax to the whole, the morale of the troops began to give way. They had no confidence in Joseph as a leader. They shrank from encountering the English ; by whom they had been so often beaten. And the news from Grermany depressed them, almost as much as the undisguised neglect of the Emperor irritated and annoyed them. The tide had indeed fairly turned, and Lord Wellington was not the man to give an opportunity for its turning again. The winter, though passed by the allied troops in military inaction, was far from wasted- Lord Wellington applied all his energies to perfecting the equipment of his army, and the results were upon the whole satisfactory. At last he found himself master of a pontoon train. His baggage mules, besides being brought into high condition, were carefully brigaded, and placed with the muleteers under military command. He caused light carts to be constructed on a model of his own invention ; such as could travel over the less difficult of the cross roads of the country. His men were supplied with bell tents, at the rate of three per company; an immense addition to their comfort, and a great preservative of their health. The cumbrous old camp kettles were got rid of, and tins, such as men could carry on their backs, supplied the place of them. Blankets also were issued, as well as fresh clothing, shoes, bill-hooks, &c., and, to crown all, considerable reinforcements, par- ticularly in cavalry, arrived from England. Never indeed till now had he been at the head of a force, which, though still numerically beneath the point which England ought to have reached, might Q 226 MEMOIE OF THE DUXE OF WELLINGTON. 1813. fairly be pronounced worthy of the nation which sent it forth. His eight divisions of British infantry alone, showed a muster-roll on paper of 56,000: his cavalry, of 6000. Many were sick, many on detachment, and not a few prisoners with the French ; but the total effectives of the army, including 4000 cavalry, did not fall short of 40,000 men. The Portuguese, well nursed, well equipped, and in a high state of discipline, numbered 27,000. And of Spaniards 20,000 at least were in fair fighting order. When to these are added numerous guerilla bands, the corps of \\Tiittingham and Eoche, the Anglo-Sicilian army, and the garri- sons of Cadiz and Gibraltar, we find that the Allies had at this time little short of 200,000 men under arms ; not all fit to be brought into line — not all disposable even for desultory operations in the field ; but so disposed as to keep the enemy every where in a state of anxiety, and to hinder him from concentrating his attention on any one given point. Looking to the other side, it appears that of French troops there were still in Spain 230,000 men and 29,000 horses. Of these, however, only 197,000, including the reserves at Bayonne, were present with their colours ; and, from week to week, as the pres- sure in the north of Europe became more severe, even this number suffered diminution. Lord Wellington calculated, and his sources of information were excellent, that immediately opposed to him, there were in April and May, 1813, about 110,000 sabres and bayonets. The residue were either scattered in garrisons, through fortified posts, or they acted under Suchet's orders in Catalonia and Valencia. Two plans of operation presented themselves to Lord Welling- ton's mind at this period. He might move by the Salamanca or the Talavera road, pass the upper Tormes towards the mountains, seize Madrid, and turn the enemy's left ; or he might turn their right by crossing through Tras-os-Montes, and so make himself master of the great line of communication with France. Each offered its own advantages. The former would interpose an effec- tual obstacle to the junction of Suchet's force with that of the King, while, at the same time it delivered the capital, and won for the Allies the prestige of a brilliant exploit. The latter, besides bringing him into connection with the army of Gallicia and the partisans of the north, would threaten Joseph's line of retreat, and probably compel him to withdraw behind the Ebro, if not to the Pyrenees. There was, to be sure, some risk that, inclining towards Catalonia, he might be able to connect himself with Suchet upon the Ebro ; but these manoeuvres Wellington set himself to defeat, and how he succeeded will best be shown by the progress of our narrative. IS 13. THE BKITISII ARMY ADVANCES. 227 Bj all tlie means which a skilful officer employs on such occa- sions ; by sjireading false intelligence, and appearing to establish depots, by shifting corps, and moving guns, Wellington led the enemy to assume that his purpose was to march upon Madrid. In order to meet this danger Joseph arranged, as we have seen, his principal corps upon the southern bank of the Douro. He was ready to debouch by the tete-de-ponts of Toro and Zamora in the event of the English directing themselves towards Salamanca. He had, however, been negligent in the extreme with respect to other matters. No magazines were formed at Santona or at Burgos ; his only line of communication Avitli Suchet was through Saragossa ; he had neither strengthened the fortifications of Burgos, nor freed himself from his baggage by sending it to that place or to Pampe- luna, Tolosa, or San Sebastian. His three armies occupied, besides, three distinct lines, all too extensive, and all separated the one from the other. The army of Andalusia, for example, had its left in Madrid, its right at Salamanca ; that of the centre extended from Segovia to Valladolid ; that of Portugal from Burgos to Pam- peluna. If threatened in the direction of Madrid, they might possibly have united in time to show an equal front to the assail- ants. But Welling-ton's arrangements left Madrid on one side, and their entire plan of campaign became confused. Heavy rains fell during the last days of April and the beginning of May. It was not, therefore, till the 15th of the latter month that Lord Wellington found himself able to move, and he moved in two principal columns. The left, under Grraham, comprising about 40,000 men of all arms, passed the Douro between Lamega and the mouth of the Agueda, and pushed through Tras-os-Montes towards the Esla; the right, about 28,000, which Lord Wellington accom- panied in person, waited till the 22nd, and then advanced in the direction of Alba and Salamanca upon the Tormes. The fort of Santa Martha, and the bridge at JMiranda, were simultaneously threatened, and after a trifling resistance carried ; indeed the enemy seemed taken by surprise, for though they retreated in tolerable order they were quite incajjable of making a stand. Among other prizes, the carriage of Greneral Valette, who com- manded the French division, fell into the hands of the English cavalry. Meanwhile Grraham, seriously impeded by the nature of the country, was making his way slowly through Tras-os-Montes. He arrived, on the 30th, at Carvajales, where, the same day. Lord Wellington joined him. On the 31st Zamora was occu- pied, and the junction of the two columns on the Douro, about Q 2 228 MEMOIR OP THE DUJiE OP TVT^LLINGTOK 1813. which Lord Wellington had become a little uneasy, was rendered secm-e. Meanwhile the French were pouring in from all their out- lying stations towards the point of danger. But they had large intervals to cover, and could as yet bring into line not more than 35,000 infantry, 9000 or 10,000 cavalry, and 100 guns. The Allies, on the other hand, amounted, inclusive of Spaniards, to about 70,000, with 100 guns. Unfortunately Lord Wellington considered it necessary to halt at Toro till the 3rd, in order to give time for the army of Gallicia to join him. But for this and the delay in Grraham's march through Tras-os-Montes, it is more than probable that he might have cut in upon the French line of march at Placentia and Valladolid, and destroyed their several corps in detail. By this time Joseph, who had been joined by the division from Madrid, and was in considerable force, had three courses open to him. He occupied a good position near Valladolid, w^hich he might endeavour to hold till the army of Portugal, which was still far in the rear, should have time to come up ; or he might retire upon Burgos, and thence by Miranda and Vittoria, joining to him- self there the army of the north ; or he might hold the line of the Douro, manoeuvring up the stream as high as Aranda, or even Soria, whence, by a road which Marshal Ney had traversed in 1808, he would be able to penetrate between Tudela and Logrono into Navarre, at a point where he should certainly find Clausel, and might, if the arrangement were deemed advisable, form a junction with Suchet also. The first of these courses was clearly unadvis- able. In numbers he was still greatly inferior to the English, and a defeat like that of Salamanca would be ruin. The second pre- sented no difficulties whatever, and had much to recommend it. The third appeared, though in point of fact it was not, critical and hazardous, because the roads, which had not been explored, were described by the Spaniards to be extremely bad, and the army was encumbered with wheel carriages. Besides, by moving off towards Navarre the great road into France would be opened to the English, a circumstance not to be contemplated without dismay. The second scheme, therefore, was pronounced to be the best, and the King acted upon it. But as he had by this time 55,000 men in hand, and believed the English to be inferior to what they really were, he made up his mind to fight behind the Pisuerga, in the event of his movement being harassed. Foy and Sarut were accordingly directed to close up upon Burgos, while instructions were sent off to Suchet requiring him to march upon Saragossa. Suchet, however, was too busy in Catalonia to obey these instructions, had they reached him in time : but they did 1813. JOSEPH EETIRES ON VITTOEIA. 229 not reach bim in time, and the oj^portunity thus lost of bringing 150,000 French troops to a head could never be recovered. Allusion has been made to the unaccountable negligence of the French, in omitting to strengthen the works at Burgos, or even to fill up the breaches in the castle wall. When the heads of Joseph's columns began to approach the place, Marshal Jourdain informed the King that it was quite indefensible, and the King, who had counted perhaps too much upon its importance, made up his mind to withdraw behind the Ebro. This was a mistake. The country between Burgos and Miranda is very defensible, and Joseph had just been reinforced by the junction of Lamaricier's division, 6000 strong. His chances of protracting the struggle were, therefore, quite as good, perhaps better, between the Alenzon and the Ebro than any where between the Ebro and the Bidassoa. But he had become nervously apprehensive about his communications with France, and could not be brought to understand that these might still be safe, even if for a moment the great road to Bayonne fell into the enemy's hands. Hence, when the army marched away from Burgos, no reasoning could prevail upon him to move upon the Ebro at Logrono, where Clausel, with the whole of his force, might have been gathered in. Nothing would content him except a march through Miranda and Vittoria, though he was reduced to the necessity of sending away 1500 men in order to escort the officer who was to bear to Clausel the order to make all possible haste towards the same point. Meanwhile Lord Wellington was following up his own plan of campaign with consummate skill and energy. He passed the Carrion and the Upper Pisuerga on the 8th, 9th, and 10th, drove the enemy's rear-guard through Burgos, and relaxed the pur- suit only because his columns had outmarched their stores and provisions. With respect to Burgos itself, a loud explosion, heard as the leading division drew near, told its story. The enemy, despairing of being able to hold the castle, had mined and blown it up ; not indeed entirely, for some mines missed fire, but with such precipitate haste that a good many of their own people perished amid the ruins. This was a great relief to Lord Wellington, who had determined to reduce it by regular siege before advancing fur- ther. He now, therefore, contented himself with giving directions to have the works repaired, and continued his march as soon as the supplies for which he had been obliged to wait had arrived. It would appear that Joseph scarcely counted on the immediate passage of the Ebro by the English. It is certain that the leading members of Lord Wellington's staff were exceedingly averse to undertake that operation. Joseph, therefore, considered himself Q3 230 MEMOIE OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON 1813. safe for the present ; and more thoughtful of the convenient dis- tribution than of the compactness of his troops, he took up an exten- sive line of cantonments, while at Wellington's head-quarters urgent reasons were adduced why the Allies should wait on the right bank of the river, till events in the north of Europe had further deve- loped themselves. Joseph, it was understood, had been joined on the march by one of Clausel's divisions under Sarut. Another division, Foy's, was close at hand, between MondragonandTolosa; while Clausel himself, with the two remaining divisions of his own corps, and two of the army of the north, w^as said to be moving up by Logrono. He might arrive any day in the King's camp, and then numbers as well as position would be against the Allies. And, in truth, had the King been prudent enough, even at this period, to march down the Ebro till he met Clausel, the campaign might have ended otherwise than it did. But the fear of losing the Ba- yonne road, on the one hand, and an absurd expectation that the English, if they advanced at all, would advance against the front of his position, kept the King quiet. This great fault did not escape Lord Wellington's notice ; and he took advantage of it with extraordinary promptitude and ability. The enemy had left a considerable force in Pancoi'bo ; the rest, on the left of the Ebro, were in a very strong coimtry, among mountain passes, with ravines and deep river-beds everywhere passing through them. All these obstacles Lord Wellington avoided by throwing the left of his army over the bridges of San Martin and Eocamunde on the 14th, and bringing up his centre and right on the loth by the same route, and by the bridge of Puente de Arenas. His point was Vittoria, on which, during the 16tli, the several columns marched. But the enemy had taken the alarm, and they, too, began to close up. At first they endeavoured to make a stand at Epejo, not far from the Puente Sacra, with troops brought from Pancorbo ; as w^ell as at Frias, where a division of in- fantry and some cavalry showed themselves. But both corps were turned and driven back on San Milcar and Osma, at the former of which posts the Light Division came into action, as did General Grraham's corps at the latter. The Light Division carried San IMilcar at a rush, and heading the rearmost of the enemy's brigades took 300 prisoners, and dispersed the remainder among the mountains. Cxraham, on the contrary, was himself attacked by superior num- bers ; but he repulsed the assailants, and compelled them to retire through the hills to Subijana over the Bayax. The object of these movements on the part of the English was to interpose between the enemy and the coast, and to open through the harbours with which it abounds^ direct communication with 1813. DISPOSITIONS FOE THE BATTLE. 231 England. Secondary to this, and scarcely less important, was the purpose of cutting off the enemy from their communications through Gruipuzcoa with France. Both objects were accomplished with perfect success, though not without great toil and perseverance. During six days the troops were on march, ascending precipitous heights, threading wild passes, passing rugged torrents, and overcoming all the difficulties which they encountered. And with such admirable accuracy was each particular movement adjusted to the rest, that the several columns arrived on the plateaux appointed for them, almost at the same instant. It was, so far as the French generals were concerned, a complete surprise. They learned for the first time on the 18th that the right of their position was turned, and that the English were getting fast into their rear. Orders were issued for an immediate retreat, and the troops marching all night, came in weary and out of heart, at daybreak on the 15th, to a new allio-nment. But neither was this considered to be secure ; so again between the 19th and the 20th divisions changed their ground — a most unwise proceeding, because nothing more tends to discourage troops than a succession of night marches. More- over the position which Joseph took up was as bad in itself as his manner of occupying it proved to be faulty. It placed him, with his line of battle extended above two leagues and a half, in a di- rection parallel with the Bayonne road. Between his right and centre the distance was so great, that neither could bring help, in case of need to the other ; while a succession of rivulets and water- courses interposed at brief intervals in the line, and winding in front of it, not only rendered useless his magnificent cavalry, but greatly impeded the march both of infantry and guns. Finally his baggage, which was enormous, for it comprehended all the plunder of Spain, lay crowded about the town of Vittoria; thus blocking up the only avenue by which, in the event of disaster, his troops could ffill back with anything like order and regularity. The English lay on the evening of the 19th along the course of the Bayax. It is an inconsiderable stream, running through a deep rocky channel, and falling into the Ebro about five or six English miles from Subijana. Lord Wellington passed it on the 20th, halting, however, his head-quarters at Subijano Morillo, in order that all the divisions might be well-closed up. Meanwhile, he himself reconnoitred the enemy's position. It extended from La Puebla de Arganza on the left to the village of tramorra Major, beyond Yittoria, on the right ; and was covered in front by the Zadora, such another stream as the Bayax, only a little wider and more winding in its course. There was one height near Puebla, which Joseph had occupied weakly ; and another, on the Q 4 232 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON 1813. right centre, which he held in greater force. The reserves were at Gramorra Minor, at a village called Ali, and at Arinaz in support of each flank and of the centre. Though very defective as a battle ground, this position was so far good that it guarded the three great roads which fall in ujson Vittoria ; that from Logrono, with its left, that from Madrid with its centre, that from Bilbao, with its right. Lord Wellington saw where the enemy had erred, and arranged to attack on the morrow. His advance was to be made in four columns. The right column, consisting of the 2nd division, with Morillo's Spaniards, was to fall upon La Puebla, and overwhelm the enemy's left. The centre columns, composed, one of the 3rd and 7th, the other of the Light and 4tli divisions, were to break the enemy's centre ; while the left, comprising the 1 st and 5th divisions, with Longa's and Giron's Spaniards, were to follow the Bilbao road, and make straight for Vittoria. It would be necessary for each of these columns to force the passage of the Zadora ; the right at Puebla, the two centre columns at Nanclares and Tres Puentes respectively, and the left at Gamorra and Albechico. Everyone of these passages was blocked with works hastily thrown up, and commanded by rising ground ; and on all, but more espe- cially on those of Gamorra and Albechico, large quantities of artillery were massed. It will be seen that one British division, the 6th, was not posted on the present occasion. It had been left behind at Medina de Pomar, to j)rotect the march of magazines and stores. At an early hour on the morning of the 21st, the allied troops got under arms. Hill's column moved first, and seized the heights which it had been expected to carry. The enemy made little or no resistance at first : but they soon discovered their mistake ; and column after column pressed on to recover the ground which had been lost. A sharp struggle ensued, in which Murillo's Spaniards gave way; but it was stoutly maintained by a brigade of British troops : and the height remained at its close in pos- session of the 71st regiment. Meanwhile the two centre columns came into action, and drove the enemy through the plain. Graham was the last to fall on. He had a wider space to traverse, and having it in view to disguise his object, he kept his English troops as much and as long as possible out of sight. Here too the fighting was severe ; for while the Spaniards turned the heights which covered the passages of the tapper Zamora, the village of Gamorra Major was stormed by a brigade of the 5th division, while a portion of the 1st division made a rush upon Albechico, and carried it. The French General Eeille commanded in that quarter 1S1:J. BATTLE OF VITTOEIA. 033 and handled his troops like a master. Driven from one post he occupied another, and endeavoured thrice to regain the villages which had been wrested from him. Indeed had he been less resolute or less skilful, nothing could have saved the French army from total destruction. For already the left and centre were in confusion. All, too, were marching on one point, Vittoria ; and Vittoria was, as we have seen, crowded with carriages, waggons, and encumbrances of every description. But beyond Vittoria, in the direction of Bayonne, there was no longer a line of retreat for them. Grraham had seized the great causeway, and back in confusion upon the road that leads to Pampeluna, infantry, cavalry, guns, carriages, and camp-followers were promiscuously driven. The country was not favourable for cavalry, and Lord Wellington was imable, till the battle was over, to bring his horsemen into play. M. Brialmont is, indeed, of opinion that good use might have been made of them earlier in the day, and that " Wellington would have achieved a more decisive result, had he launched some squad- rons on Joseph's left wing, at the time when Picton and Kempe's brigades, in possession of the village of Arinez, had beaten the French centre, and gained the great road to Bayonne." But at the moment to which he refers, the French left was already in full retreat, while the English cavalry was still entangled among the rocky defiles that interpose between the Bayax and the Zamora. It came up, however, in time to inflict severe punishment upon the rear of the enemy, and to throw all beyond the rear into irretriev- able confusion. For to the last moment Joseph had been unable to choose his line of retreat, and the consequences of his vacillation and want of skill were serious. The loss to the Allies in this great battle was severe. It amounted in all to 740 killed, 4174 wounded, and 200 missing. Out of these the English left on the field 501 dead, 2807 wounded ; the Portuguese 150 dead, 899 wounded, the Spaniards 89 dead, 464 wounded. The loss to the French was still more heavy. It comprised in killed, wounded, and missing 6960 men, of whom 1904 were prisoners; 150 pieces of cannon, all their baggage, ammunition waggons, and stores, with a treasure in money estimated at five millions and a half of dollars. They did not succeed in carrying off more than one gun and one howitzer, the former of which fell next day into the hands of the piu'suers. Such a spectacle as the field of battle presented, has not been witnessed since the days of Alexander and Darius. Two hundred waggons employed to convey the baggage of the King, and his personal followers, rested upon the ground. Among these waggons, actresses, nuns, women 234 MEMOIE OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON". 1813. of loose character, Avandered about ; while cases of champagne and of other wines were mixed up, in indescribable confusion, with chests of arms and of ammunition. Side by side with these lay plate, pictures, theatrical properties, jewelry, and all the produce of two years of unsparing brigandage. Indeed the King himself narrowly escaped falling into the hands of the pursuers. Overtaken by a squadron of English hussars, he had barely time to spring out of his carriage, mount a troop horse, and gallop off; while the carriage, containing his private papers, his sword, a magnificent Correggio, and Marshal Jourdain's baton, became a prey to the victors. While this was going on, Foy and Clausel, the latter of whom had been urgently sent for, were making strenuous exertions to reach the field. Foy, informed of the battle only on the 22nd, by the arrival of a French convoy at JMondragon, fell back upon Villa Franca, escaping narrowly from Graham, who, through some mistake in the conveyance of orders, had moved by the wrong road. Thence, becoming sharjDly engaged, he was compelled to retreat upon Tolosa, from which he again retired, and took up a fresh position between that town and Ernani. Many stragglers rallied upon him here, till in the end he found himself at the head of 16,000 bayonets, 400 sabres, and 10 guns. Three thousand of these, under an able ofiicer, he left at San Sebastian, and retreating with the remainder across the Urumea, he succeeded in rejoining the wreck of the army of Portugal, between the 30th of June and the 2nd of July, on the right bank of the Bidassoa. Meanwhile Wellington sent Hill's corps in j)ursuit of the main body, which was retreating along the great road and through various by-paths and passes, towards Pampeluna. But Hill moved cautiously ; for besides that the regiments not in advance had dis- persed a good deal after the battle, the approach of Clausel from Logrono towards Tudela, induced Lord Wellington to manoeuvre with a view to intercept that officer. In this he did not succeed, for Clausel reached Penurada only in time to be informed of Joseph's overthrow, and to behold from the Sierra which overlooks that town, the advance of the victorious English between him and the defeated army. With great good sense he instantly counter- marched. His two divisions were, indeed, in high order, and could bring at least 20,000 men into line : but they were no match for the whole of the allied army, and it became his business to preserve them if possible for some more favourable occasion. He returned, therefore, to the Ebro, and extricated himself from a very critical situation by retreating along its left bank to Logrono. Wellington did not follow him far in person. He sent Mina and Don Julian de Sanchez, with Durban's Portuguese cavalry, to hang 1813. REVIEW OP THE CAMPAIGN. '235 upon the enemy's rear, and to drive him onwards first to Tudela, and then to Saragossa; while he himself closed in upon Pampeluna, and formed the blockade of the place. The campaign of Vittoria offers, so far as the Allies took part in it, one of the most striking examples on record, of the wise application of the laws of strategy to their proper end. Lord Wellington's march of concentration on the Douro, the movements by which he turned the Ebro, and the skill and forethought which prompted him at once to establish a new line for himself through the harbours on the west coast of Spain, have never been surpassed in any age or in any part of the world. Neither may the amount of physical exertion necessary to accomplish these ends be over- looked. In less than two months he carried his army over 200 leagues of difficult country, crossed six considerable rivers, fought and won a great battle, invested two fortresses, and drove before him out of Spain 120,000 French troops. He has been blamed by French writers for not effecting more, and especially for pausing in order to drive away Clausel, instead of pushing on without a halt to Bayonne. But, not to speak of the political considerations which withheld him, — such as the state of affairs, at that moment, in the north of Europe, where Napoleon's star seemed to be again in the ascendant, — it would have been the extreme of rashness, with such an army as his, to break off from his new line of communications with the rear before he had well established it, and to continue the campaign with the Pyrenees behind him, open through many passes to the enemy's return, because guarded for them on one side by Pampeluna, and on the other by San Sebastian. Besides, could he leave Clausel to fall upon his hospitals, and to sweep away his wounded and the spoils of his late victory ? Criticism such as this is mere cavilling. Every principle of the art of war required that he should first set free his own rear, and then so occupy the mountain passes, that in the event of peace elsewhere, they might become a barrier to the invasion of Spain in this direction. Whereas had he pressed forward, as it is assumed that he ought to have done, with the army of Bautzen * in full march to receive him, to what use could he have turned Bayonne, even if it had fallen to him by a 0011]) de main; an event on which, to say the least, he had no great reason to count ? The soundness of his judgment was, therefore, as clearly shown by a halt in the Pyrenees, after the battle of Vittoria, as his sagacity and boldness were demonstrated in the manoeuvres which led up to that battle, and brought it on. How different * Tho battle of Biiutzcn had just been fought in Geniiany. 236 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTOK 1813. were the proceedings of the enemy, and the principles on which they acted ! In quitting Madrid and concentrating at Burgos, Joseph acted in conformity with the laws of war. He would have conformed to these laws still more accurately had he effected his concentration earlier; and he committed an unpardonable error, after abandoning many excellent positions, by accepting, while Foy and Clausel were both absent, a battle in front of Vittoria. Far better would it have been to retire at once upon Bayonne, and to make that place, as prudence recommended, the base of his operations ; or else to march parallel with the Ebro as far as Saragossa, and gathering in Suchet there, fight the Allies, when he should have withdrawn them 150 leagues from their depots. Joseph, however, as we have already shown, was nervously jealous of the great road from Vittoria to Bayonne. He was apprehensive, also, on Foy's account, who would thus have been left alone among the insurgents of the north. He, therefore, risked and lost all, rather than expose a part of his army to what he believed to be certain destruction, and himself to the reproach of havino- uncovered France to the horrors of an invasion. 1813. BLOCKADE OF PAMPELUNA. 237 CHAP. XVIII. BLOCKADE OF PAMPELUNA. — SIEGE OF SAIST SEBASTIAN, — BATTLE OE THE PYEEXEES. — FALL OP SAN" SEBASTIAN. — GENERAL STATE OF AFFAIRS. Two objects now mainly occupied Lord Wellington's attention; the blockade of Pampeluna, and the siege of San Sebastian. There was no pressing hurry in regard to the former. The place lay wide of the great Bayonne road, and being understood to be indif- ferently supplied, it would probably fall in good time without much loss of life. But San Sebastian was differently circum- stanced. As long as it remained in the enemy's possession, it threatened, if it might not positively interrupt, the communica- tions of the allied army ; besides holding out to the French a con- stant inducement to the renewal of offensive operations. While, therefore, he employed a Spanish corps, supported by a brigade of Portuguese, to straiten Pampeluna, he directed Sir Thomas Gra- ham, with the 5 th division, and Mendizabel's Spaniards, to attack San Sebastian in force. Held by 3000 veteran troops, with an experienced officer at their head, San Sebastian was not otherwise very well provided. There were no bomb-proof hosjoitals in the place, no spring wells, no wood for palisading, and few stores or materials of any kind. On the other hand, the feelings of the inhabitants were friendly to the garrison, and the situation was very advantageous. Standing on a neck of land, which is washed on two sides by the sea, and on a third, just under the walls, by the Urumea, it presented to the assailants but one front of attack. For though at particular times of the tide the river was fordable, the stream, where the fords intervened, was of considerable width, while the fords themselves were exposed to an enfilading fire, from a tower called Los Hornos on one flank, and from the bastion of St. Elmo on the other. To crown all a castle domineered from the summit of Mount Orgullo over the town, presenting an ap- pearance of much greater strength than it really possessed. On the right of the Urumea (San Sebastian being on the left bank) stood the convent of San Francisco ; at the entrance of the peninsula, and therefore in front of the town, the Convent of San Bartholomew. General Eey occupied both; the former with a de- 238 MEMOIE OF THE DUKE OP WELLINGTOIS^ lb 13. tachment of 40 men, the latter with a whole battalion. He placed 25 men likewise on the Island of Santa Clara, which acted as a sort of breakwater to the harbour ; and converted a chapel, the only building on the rock, into a block-house. Finally, on the 28th, he burned down the suburbs of San Martin and San Catharine, not having time otherwise to destroy them. The investment of San Sebastian was completed loosely the same da}^, and in the evening the train intended for the siege arrived in the harbour of Passages. It consisted of 34 guns, with a supply of about 1000 rounds for each. On the 29th an attempt was made to storm the convent of San Bartholomew, which failed. By and by, on the 31st of July, the English fleet established a blockade of the harbour. But for lack of boats, or some other reason, light coasters were never hindered from running in under cover of night. Up to this moment the siege operations had been conducted principally by Spaniards. On the 9th, however, Graham arrived with his Anglo-Portuguese, and the investment was pushed home. Meanwhile Wellington, after establishing his army on an extensive line through the Pyrenees, in order to cover the siege, and prevent supplies from being introduced into Pampeluna, came down from Ernani, where his head-quarters were fixed, to see how the land lay, and to settle the order of attack. Having reconnoitred the place, and taken council with his engineers. Lord Wellington determined to follow the course which had recommended itself in 1719 to Marshal Berwick ; he directed the town to be breached on that side which looked towards the Urumea. A good deal may be said against this decision, — a good deal in its favour. To storm a breach which can be approached only by a ford which ceases to be passable at half tide, is of itself a perilous enterprise. And the impossibility of approaching by sap beyond the far side of the river, enhances the peril greatly. Looked at, therefore, in a pm-ely scientific point of view. Lord Wellington's scheme cannot be highly spoken of. But we must remember, on the other hand, that being still comparatively des- titute of means sufficient to carry on sieges scientifically, he was coTupelled on this, as he had been on former occasions, to trust much to the valour of his troops. From the far side of the Urumea, the outer escarpe could be seen. Little time and almost less skill would, therefore, be required, to batter down the curtain, and the way once opened, he knew from past experience that sooner or later the besiegers would make good their entrance. Having settled this point. Lord Wellington returned to Ernani, and the details of the siege were carried on by Gfraham. He began by an assault on the convent of St. Bartholomew, which failed. This was on the 14th of July, and on the 16th the place was set 1813. SAN SEBASTIAN ASSAULTED. 239 on fire by shells. On the 17th a second assault was tried, with better success: and the same evening the French garrison was entirely driven out. The trenches were now opened, and zigzags pushed across the land front of the town. Meanwhile upon the high ground beyond the river, batteries were established, and on the 20th, 30 heavy pieces opened fire. On the 21st the place was summoned, and on the 22nd, the garrison having refused to surrender, between fifty and sixty yards of masonry came down with a crash. Just then Lord Wellington arrived again from Ernani. He gave directions that a second breach should be made, between the tower of Los Hornos and the bastion of St. Elmo : and soon after the bat- teries opened in that direction, a number of houses abutting on the ramparts took fire. The fire raged with great fury, there being no water wherewith to subdue it, and the garrison lost in consequence all the fruits of much labour : for they had loop-holed the houses, and fitted them as subsidiary defences of the great breach. Early in the investment, the besiegers had taken possession of an aqueduct, by means of which the town was supplied with water from the hills. They now turned it to account by driving a mine through it under the terre-pleine of the covered way ; the explosion of which, a little before dawn on the 25th, threw down the counterscarp into the ditch. Immediately the columns moved from the parallel to the assault. But besides having the slippery bed of the river to traverse, with deep pools and rocks over- grown with seaweed at brief intervals, they found on gaining the other side, that they must pass along the faussebraie of the left-shoulder of a horn work, exposed all the while to a very hurri- cane of missiles. Many fell, many became confused and disorderly, a few gained the breach. These did their best to enter the town, but were killed, well nigh to a man. The rest, broken and dis- tracted, neither advanced nor retreated, but stood to be mowed down till the signal of recall was sounded. Then, under a shower of bullets, they staggered back again through the rising tide, which swept away not a few of the wounded, and put an end to their sufferings. It is due to the French garrison of San Sebastian to state that having bravely repulsed this attack, they displayed the utmost generosity and kindness towards the wreck of the defeated columns. They came down the slope of the breach in groups, lifted such of the wounded as lay in the space between the ditch and the river, and carried them into the town. Thus many a life was saved, which must have been extinguished, as soon as the tide attained its height. Such acts on the part of men who are arrayed against one another as enemies, deserve to be remembered. They 240 MEMOIE OF THE DUKE OF ■\YELLINGTOX. 1813. soften, as far as they can be softened, the horrors of war ; and to the honour of both nations, we may add that they were of constant occurrence, as well on the side of the English as on that of the French, throughout the whole of the great struggle in the Spanish Peninsula. WTiile these things were going on in front of San Sebastian, great changes had been effected both in the management and in the organisation of the French forces behind the Bidassoa. Na- poleon no sooner heard of the disaster of Vittoria, than he removed Joseph and Jourdain from their commands. Though ill-able at that moment to spare such an officer as Soult, he sent him at once to replace them, giving him only this definite charge, that at the earliest possible moment he should resume the offensive. It was of the greatest importance, in the existing state of his relations with Austria, that Napoleon should appear to retain a fast hold upon Spain, and this end at least would be achieved provided Soult were to succeed in relieving the two beleaguered fortresses, and in compelling Lord Wellington to take up a position somewhere on the further side of the Pyrenees. Soult, travelling night and day, reached his allotted post on the 13th of July, and began imme- diately to prepare for the arduous task which was before him. His first general order, issued on the 23rd, threw the entire blame of recent disasters on Joseph and Jourdain. It was well received by the army ; which had already regained some appearance of order ; and which, under the able management of its new com- mander, soon presented a respectable appearance. Clausel, with his corps, had come in. Paris was at Jacca, with his division. Eighty-five pieces of cannon, well-horsed and mounted, had arrived from the depot at Bayonne ; and of bayonets and sabres, inclusive of artillery, nearly 80,000 were present with their colours. Soult sent off frequent dispatches to Suchet, acquainting him with the state of his own preparations ; and entreating him either to effect a march by the rear, so that they might act together, or else to move up the Ebro, and threaten Lord Wellington's left, while he himself attacked in front. But Soult's reasoning and eloquence were equally thrown away. When Joseph was retiring across the Ebro, Suchet had indeed approached him as near as Saragossa ; whence, however, on receiving tidings of the rout at Vittoria, he precipitately- withdrew ; and now leaving that place to fall into the hands of the guerillas, he retired into Catalonia, determined, as he averred, to hold it to the last. It was well for Lord Wellinoton, that, down to the very close of the war, a spirit of rivalry operated to keep down higher motives in the breasts of the French generals. 1813. LOED WELLINGTONS POSITION. 241 Had Sachet, with the 32,000 men of whom he was at the head, either joined Soult behind the Bidassoa, or effected a diversion in his favour as was proposed, the consequences might have been serious. For the force under Lord Wellington's orders did not number more than 80,000 men in all, including 25,000 Spaniards ; and the Spaniards, though undoubtedly improved by their amalgamation with the Anglo-Portuguese, were still as compared with English or French, or even with Portuguese, little to be relied upon in the hour of need. The dispositions of Lord Wellington's and Soult's armies, were at this time as follows : — In order to cover the blockade of Pampeluna, and the siege of San Sebastian, the Allies occupied the gorges of the Pyrenees, to the extent, from one extremity to another, of about twenty leagues. Their right, consisting of one British brigade and ]Mo- rillo's Spanish division, held the pass of Eoncesvalles. The 4th division at Biscaret, the 3rd at Olaque, supported these troops. Hill, with Walker's brigade of the 2nd division, and a portion of Pringle's, lay at Maya; the rest of the 2nd division being in reserve in the valley of Bastan. Sylviera's Portuguese division, forming also a portion of Hill's corps, was detached to a post five leagues to the left of Eoncesvalles. Campbell's Portuguese were at Los Alduides ; while the Light and 7th divisions held positions at Bera, along the heights of Santa Barbara, and on the Puerto de Echallar. Finally, the 6th division was at San Esteban, and Longa's Spaniards communicated, from Bera, with Giron's Spanish corps on the great road to Pampeluna by their right, and with Graham's corps in front of San Sebastian by their left. , A glance at any good map will show that this disposition of his force, though the best which, under the circumstances, could have been effected, was faulty in the extreme. There were no roads of communication between the several portions of the army, which, on the contrary, were separated one from another by inaccessible mountains. There was no plateau behind them, on which, when hard pressed, they could retire, and which, when gained, would present a line even moderately defensible. Each division, we had almost said each brigade, had, on the contrary, itself alone to depend upon, till an attacking enemy should have fully developed his plan ; to defeat which, by a movement of concentra- tion, must greatly strain both the mental resources of the leader, and the physical powers of the men. The French, on the other hand, though likewise inconveniently extended, were far better placed for mutual support. Clausel, who commanded the left wing, was at St. Jean-Pied-de-Port. Drouet, with the centre, n 242 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTOIJiT. 1813. occupied the heights between Espalette and Ainhoe. Eeille, with the left, held the mountains which overhang Vera ; while Valette, with the reserve, guarded the Bidassoa in its downward course from the great road to the sea. Thus, by either flank, or through the pass of San Antonio at their centre, it was in the enemy's power to push, at any moment, an overwhelming column of attack ; while in the event of being himself attacked, he had a range of mountains to fall back upon, steep towards Spain, sloping more gently into France, and traversed in the rear by roads, not good certainly, but in dry weather at least passable for wheel carriages. The orders given to Soult were peremptory. Hence though he would have been glad of a few weeks to restore the confidence of the troops, he made immediate preparations to carry his instructions into effect. He examined carefully the position of the Allies, and made up his mind to operate by his own left. He should thus, he hoped, be able, after relieving Pampeluna, to drive away the Allied right, and then moving along the Irurzun road, to fall upon the divisions of the centre, as they came down from the mountains ; or else to menace the rear of the force em- ployed in the siege of San Sebastian, while a corps of observation crossing the lower Bidassoa, should attack it in front. It was a plan well conceived, as all Soult's plans were ; but it failed, partly through some obvious defects in the execution, and partly because it had all been foreseen and provided against. On the morning of the 25th, Soult put himself at the head of Eeille's and Clausel's corps, turned the position of the 4th division at Eoncesvalles, and compelled it to retire upon Zubiri. In the afternoon of the same day, Hill, furiously assailed by D'Erlon, was forced to withdraw from the Puerto de Maya, and to fall back upon the valley of Bastan, in the direction of Irurita. Next day Sonlt moved upon Pampeluna, by a road which commanded all the strong defensive positions near it. He conducted his march, how- ever, with too much caution, of which the consequence was, that the 4th British division, and the 3rd, which had joined during the retreat, found time to move to their right, and to connect them- selves, before the French arrived, with O'Donnel's Spaniards, by whom the blockade was maintained. Of the commencement of these movements intelligence reached Lord Wellington in the night between the 25th and 26th. He had been on the 25th, with Sir Thomas Grraham before San Sebastian, having ridden down with a view to repair the late disaster ; and was back again at Lasaca when the reports came in. He got out of bed, dispatched orders to disarm the batteries ; and 1813. WELLINGTON AND SOULT GAZE AT EACH OTHER. 243 "without raising the blockade, to render a portion of the besieging force available for general service. Hitherto he had been the less jealous of his right, because Soult, in order to mislead him, had made a feint a few days previously in that direction, which Lord Wellington accepted as a token that the serious blow would fall upon his left. But the intelligence now received, opened out the whole of the enemy's scheme. He directed his left and centre columns to move to their right, and in order to prevent mistakes, he specified the valley of Lanz as the line which they were to follow. Then mounting his horse at two in the morning, he made his way through lateral glens towards the allignments of the 3rd and 4th divisions ; whence, on the 27th, he pushed on, attended by a single staff-officer, to Saroren. 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, Wellington leaped fi-om his horse, and on the parapet of the bridge wrote with a pencil the necessary orders. With this Lord Fitzroy galloped to the rear; while 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 recognised as he approached the summit by a Portuguese battalion, the men raised a cry of satisfaction. It was at once caught up by the 3rd and 4th divisions, which stood under arms not far off, and they delighted, as in moments of danger the troojDS always were, to find their commander near them, rent the air with their shouts. Soult heard the tumult, and perfectly understood what it meant. Almost involuntarily he stopped the march of his troops ; and ascending a hill opposite to that on which Wellington stood, the two generals gazed at one another. The delay of an hour or two was all that Lord Wellington desired. His orders dispatched by Lord Fitzroy Somerset 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 separated Hill from the right of the army. Had Soult attacked on the 27th he would have had only two divisions with Morillo's Spaniards to deal with. On the 28th three divisions R 2 244 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1813. 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, and then he struck the blow. The French, greatly superior in numbers, behaved with the utmost gallantry; the Allies, admirably posted, met and repelled ever}^ attack. Lines and columns were continually intermixed; indeed, Wellington describes 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 Wellington arrived first, however, and in greater comparative strength. He had 30,000 Anglo-Portuguese in hand before the sun went down ; whereas, on the previous 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 niunerically superior to his opponent. Bat the French were by this time a good deal demoralised by constant reverses, and their leader began to be in fear that provisions would fail him. He determined, therefore, to extricate himself from the difficulties of his position, while at the same time he should make an effort to raise the siege of St. Sebas- tian. With this view he left a division to screen the movement, and turned with the rest upon Hill. It was a bold but dangerous stroke. It presented the flank of the army on its march to Lord Wellington, who was neither slow to divine 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. Eeille and Clausel, very roughly handled, gave way ; while Soult him- self, driven out of Saroren, retreated upon San Esteban by the gorge of Donna Maria. But even this expedient had been sur- mised, and Hill, uniting to himself Morillo's Spaniards, pushed through gorges and defiles, and headed the column. And now oc- curred one of those accidents which lead so often in war to great failures as well as great successes. Lord Wellington had so timed the movements of his corps, that he was on the point of surrounding Soidt with the mass of his army, when three wretched stragglers, looking for plunder in the glen into which the enemy 18i3. THE FRENCH DEFEATED. 245 had been crowded, fell into the hands of a patrol. They were carried before Soult, told him whence they had come, and made him for the first time aware that the English were all ronnd him, except on one narrow opening ; and that even this would in the course of a few hours be occupied. He lost no time in breaking through. In haste, and some confusion, his troops threaded the interval, leaving all their baggage behind. The guns he had pre- viously 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 Allies in hot pursuit, scaled crags, plunged down ravines, and passed torrents. The loss to the fugitives was enormous. It amounted, throughout the operations, to 15,000 men ; while on the side of the Allies, 7300 were returned as killed, wounded, and missing. Having thus crippled Soult, and rendered him incapable of attempting for the future any serious interruption. Lord Welling- ton took steps for resuming the siege of San Sebastian, the trenches before which had not been filled in, though the guns were removed from the batteries. For a while, indeed, no effec- tive progress could be made, because a new siege train, promised and long expected from England, was still at sea. The stock of ammunition likewise for the guns already in hand was well nigh exhausted ; but he caused fresh batteries to be prepared, especially against the land front, in order that when the means of arming them should arrive, the town might be attacked simultaneously at many points. These means arrived at last. On the 18th of August, 117 heavy guns and mortars reached Passages, and a few days subse- quently shot and shell for their use; which the authorities in England had, with unaccountable negligence, omitted to put on board the vessels which conveyed the artillery. Hence on the 26th, sixty-three heavy pieces opened fire on San Sebastian. The shat- tered defences on the river front soon began to crumble away. The artillery was dismounted in the embrasures, and the two breaches, beaten into one, exhibited a rugged slope of large extent. Against this hurricane General Rey could oppose but little resist- ance ; but he did what he could. He threw up retrenchments behind the ruins, and mined and loaded the bottom of the breach at various points ; and having still in reserve a few field pieces, he planted them behind screens in readiness to be used when the assault should be delivered. It was delivered on the 31st. About two in the morning of that day, the explosion by the besiegers of three mines uncovered the wall of the quay, and B 3 246 MEMOIE OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1813. formed a ramp by which they could descend into the ditch ; and between ten and eleven, at which hour the tide served, the columns dashed forward. Troops which have been once repulsed in the assault of a fortress, are apt to grow disheartened. They imagine the obstacles which they had failed to surmount to be more formidable than they really are; and a prudent commander is therefore careful to make his second effort with fresh men. On the present occasion volunteers from the divisions not employed in the siege were sent down to lead the assault; and a battalion embarked in boats threatened the castle rock from the sea. Their rush was tremend- ous, and tremendous was the' resistance which it encountered. For three hours the assailants swarmed up the breaches, yet failed to crown the parapet, while a murderous fire from behind traverses fell upon them in front and on either flank. At last Sir Thomas Graham, who watched the proceedings from one of the batteries on the right of the Urumea, caused his guns to be tui'ned upon the defenders, though these stood but a foot or two above the level of the assailants. The fire was admirably directed, and a shot strik- ing some loose cartridges and loaded shells, which lay ready for use, exploded them, causing great slaughter among the French troops. They recoiled for a moment, and that moment decided the fate of the place. The storming parties, raising a shout, sprang upon the parapet, and the town was their own. Once again were scenes enacted from the contemplation of which the mind recoils. The French set fire to such houses as stood near the breaches, and fought from street to street with desperate bravery. They took care, also, to throw casks of spirits and wine where the English soldiers could see them, and the men, hot and thirsty, rushed upon them, drank to excess, and became perfectly unmanageable. In a little time the whole town was in a blaze, and many a soldier, disabled by wounds, or stupified by drink, perished in the conflagration. But the charges brought by the Spanish Government against their allies, as if the destruction of San Sebastian had been designedly their work and that of the commander-in-chief, was as unjust as it was ungenerous. The fire originated with the garrison. The assailants found no time, at first, to make efforts to subdue it ; and when they did make these efforts, it was too late. That plunder and rapine went on to a fearful extent cannot be denied ; but plimder and rapine in- variably follow upon the capture of a town by storm, and on the present occasion many British officers risked, and well nigh lost their lives, in the effort to put a stop to it. The French, though beaten from the town, still held the castle as 1813. SAN SEBASTIAN TAKEN. 247 well as a fortified convent at the foot of the rock on which the castle stands. Immediate steps were taken to reduce both. The latter, after a brief cannonade, was evacuated. Against the former, mortar batteries were constructed. It was a mere shell, without bomb-proofs, or cover of any kind, and the only magazine con- tained in it soon blew up. After holding out, therefore, from the 1st to the 8th of September, General Key hoisted a white flag, and was admitted, with all that remained of his devoted garrison, to the honours of war. The loss to the Allies in the assault and capture of San Se- bastian was very severe. It amounted to 761 of all ranks killed, 1697 wounded, and 45 missing. Out of these 189 killed, 594 wounded, and 4 missing, were Portuguese, the rest were English. But heavy as the loss was, it constituted but a part of the price at which so important a place was purchased. From the first formation of the siege, up to the surrender of the citadel, 3810 men were disabled, a number considerably exceeding that of the entire garrison, of whom about 1800 only laid down their arms on the glacis. It was a touching sight when these gallant soldiers, headed by their veteran governor, marched out ; and they were treated with the respect which they deserved. Every British officer dropped his sword as they passed, and the men presented arms. San Sebastian did not fall without one last effort on the part of Soult to save it. He collected, during the 29th and 30th, about 25,000 men on his right, opposite to the heights of San Martial; while 20,000, under Clausel, gathered together before the pass of Vera. Neither movement was overlooked by Lord Wellington. He had occupied the heights of San Martial with 6000 Spaniards under Fryere, whom he supported on either flank with a British division ; and while he blocked the Vera pass with one brigade of the 7th division, he directed Hill to show the heads of his columns as if they were on the march towards St. Jean Pied-de-Port. These arrangements entirely served their purpose. Eeille, attacking the Spaniards in a loose and not very determined manner, was re- pulsed ; while Clausel, after driving out the brigade from Vera, stopped short, when he saw a stronger force in front of San Martial, and Hill moving, as it seemed, round his left towards Bayonne. After a good deal of fireing, and some loss on both sides, the French accordingly retreated ; and Soult henceforth directed his attention exclusively to the means of best resisting the invasion of France, which might from hour to hour be expected. In order to jDreserve unbroken the chain of military events, we have omitted to notice one or two circumstances which occurred at B 4 248 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OP WELLINGTON. 1813. this time, and were of considerable moment as regarded both the private and public position of the leader of the British army. To himself the result of the battle at Vittoria was his advancement to the highest grade in his profession, that of Field Marshal. On Europe at large, the influence exercised by that great triumph proved momentous in the extreme. Austria, which had hitherto kept aloof from joining the northern powers, threw in her portion with Russia and Prussia. The negociations which had been going on in Bohemia came to an end, and Napoleon found himself con- fronted by such a force, as rendered all but hopeless the efforts of his military genius. As was not, perhaj)S, unnatural, the hopes of the exiled French royalists revived, and the princes of the house of Bourbon began to speak and to write about restoration to the throne of their ancestors. Among others Lord Wellington was applied to on the subject, not by the British Grovernment only, but by the Due de Berri. He evaded, at this stage of the drama, all direct correspondence with the Due, by sending his letter to Lord Bathurst, while he wisely cautioned the British Cabinet against any premature expression, even of a wish on so very delicate a subject. Urged, also, to invade France, he neither consented nor refused to do so, but explaining fully the hazards which must attend the step, while as yet the war in the north had taken no decided turn, he expressed himself ready to obey orders whenever they should be distinctly given. His own inclination appears to have pointed, rather to the consolidation of his conquests in Spain, than to a rash extension of the field of military operations beyond it. For in the east matters had not gone uniformly well. Sir John Murray'-, who succeeded Greneral Maitland in the command, evinced a lamentable want both of energy and forethought; and brought his career to a close, by hastily raising the siege of Torragona, and abandoning his guns to the enemy. It is pretty evident, likewise, that Lord Wilham Ben- tinck, who next assumed the chief direction of affairs, scarcely possessed the amount of mihtary talent which the situation required. He suffered himself to be misled by false intelligence ; and lost, rather than gained, both ground and reputation. On Wellington's right, therefore, there still lay a formidable French force, half of which, about 30,000 men, was distributed among the strongholds which command the principal avenues of approach to and from France, while the other half Suchet kept in hand, and might have employed, had he followed Soult's advice, and the instructions of the war minister in Paris, to far better purpose than in watching Lord William Bentinck's motley army. Under such circumstances Lord Wellington was averse to plunge into an enterprise, of which 1813. COEEESPONDENCE WITH THE HOME GOVEltNMENT. 249 the issues seemed to be doubtful. For, as he pointed out to Lord Bathurst, the population of France was unlike that of any other nation in Europe. Most of the peasantry, almost all the landed pro- prietors, had served in the field more or less ; and an insurrection provoked, as it probably would be, by the predatory habits of the Spaniards, would prove far more formidable than it had been even in Spain. " My future operations," he said as early as the 12th of July, "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 reinforcement which the enemy shall get in our front."' * Again, the army of which he was at the head, though infinitely superior to what it had been a year or two previously, could not, in all its parts, he depended upon. By judiciously intermixing inferior with superior troops be rendered the whole pliable. But this was not done, except at the cost of inconveniences which would be aggravated a thousand-fold the moment he passed the frontier. For then the Spaniards, whom their own government habi- tually neglected 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 Lesaca 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 morning I should find both Spaniards and Portuguese surprised and defeated, and the British would cut but a poor figure alone." Another project he was constrained at this moment to set aside. The Allies, either jealous of one another, or distrusting the ability of their chiefs, were anxious to place him at the head of their armies ; and the English Grovernment communicated with him on the subject. He explained in reply, that whatever value his services might be to the common cause, they were much more valuable at a post where he was known and trusted, than they could be anywhere else. In the south the army knew him and he knew the army : in the north mutual confidence could be acquired only by degrees ; and, therefore, though ready to go where- * His expression was, " Obserre, that this new operation is the invasion of France, in -wliich country ererybody is a soldier, where the wliole population is armed and organised, under persons, not, as in other countries, inexperienced in amis, but men who, in the com-se of the last twenty-five years in which France has been engaged with all Europe, must,- the majority of them at least, have served somewhere." 250 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1813. ever tbe Prince Eegent might desire, lie advised that the applica- tion of the northern powers should be declined. These were all troubles which, though in some respects new, he was well able to bear. It was much more difficult to put up with the neglect, and, in some instances, with the hostilit}^, of the powers which he was serving. Not even to him would the British Admiralty concede the right of ordering such naval co-operation as he required. The admiral on the station was positively pro- hibited from taking any orders from the general on shore. The two might confer together ; and should their opinions coincide, the admiral was at liberty, if he saw fit, to act on the suggestions of his colleague. But orders could come only from superior authority afloat, or from the Board at WTiitehall. Hence, over and over again we find Lord Wellington complaining that the coasts are not properly secured, that convoys fail him, and that the enemy's pri- vateers range at will upon his communications. Such, however, is the nature of our mixed constitution, and of the habits of thought which it genders, that the idea of giving to a general, however competent he might prove himself to be, any control over the operations of a fleet, seems never, in those days, to have been entertained. And if denounced as impracticable where such a man as Lord Wellington moved on the stage, there seems small probability of its being regarded in a different light under less imposing circumstances. Meanwhile the Portuguese Eegency continued to neglect its troops, and the Spanish Cortes to evince bitter hostility towards their Captain-Greneral and great ally. They even went so far as to place his hospitals, and the ships on which he depended for his supplies, in quarantine. The Portuguese incorporated with his divisions, the Duke fed. Those which acted separately he kept from starving, though at considerable sacrifices, both of treasure and temper. As to the Spanish armies, the marvel is how they attained any degree of efficiency. We have ourselves seen them, at this stage of the war, feeding upon the heads of Indian corn, which they gathered green for themselves; and rejoicing over the arrival in their camp of a few bullock-carts laden with salted fish. It was to no purpose that he remonstrated, and even threatened. His remonstrances were disregarded, his complaints of misconduct were despised, and his threats of giving up the cause answered vath angry recriminations. So bitter, indeed, be- came the feeling, after the fall of San Sebastian, that no other temper than his own could have borne up against it. Writing to Lord Bathurst about the condition of Spain and its government, he says, " It is quite impossible that such a system can last. What I 1813. NO DEPENDENCE ON SPAIN. 251 regret is, that I am the person that maintains it. If I were out of the way, there are plenty of generals who would overturn it. Ballasteros positively intended it ; and I am much mistaken if O'Donnell, and even Castahos, and probably others, are not equally ready. If the King should return, he also will overturn the whole fabric, if he has any spirit." How surely, and to what a mischievous extent this latter prophecy received its fulfilment, is now a matter of history. One more source of anxiety presented itself at this time, which deserves, at least, passing notice. Napoleon, it was rumoured, had opened a negociation for a separate peace with Spain, and undertook to restore Ferdinand, on condition that all the country between the Pyrenees and the Ebro should be annexed to France. 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 Government at home. But the project seemed to have been, at least, premature. The time was not yet come for Na- poleon 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 we will not stop to par- ticularise, weighed upon the mind of the English general, and rendered him less anxious than he might have otherwise been to push the war, for the present, beyond the Spanish border. 252 MEMOIR OF THE DUXE OF WELLINGTON. 1813. CHAP. XIX. PASSAGE OP THE BIDASSOA. — BATTLE OP THE NIVELLE. — THE SPAIOARDS SENT BACK. — BATTLES OP THE 9tH, IOtH, IItH, 12tH, AND 13tH OP DECEMBER. — "WIJS^TEE atTARTEES. Though disinclined to precipitate a movement — to withdraw from which could not but be attended with disgrace — Lord Wellington made every necessary arrangement for the speed}'' invasion of France. He threw up earthworks at the mouths of the passes of the mountains, so as to secure a base for himself, and to offer serious obstacles to the enemy. His pontoons were, at the same time, brought forward, and packed ; while a Spanish garrison being placed in San Sebastian, the troops which had taken part in the capture of that place were moved to the front. No decisive step was, however, taken till the beginning of October, an interval of which Soult made use to entrench the ground on which he stood, and to fortify another and still more formidable position in his rear. The line of the Bidassoa was strong, though not free from the defects which attach to mountain positions in general. The right of the French army, covered by the estuary of the river, occupied a range of heights above Andaya, and extended from the hills which confront San Martial to the sea. The centre, somewhat retired, followed the bend of the mountains, by Mandala, to Baionette. The right, with its advance at Vera, rested chiefly on the Puerto de Vera, and the mountains of La Rhune. It was, on the whole, as defensible a line as, in a mountainous country, a large army could well take up. The approaches to it, likewise, were difficult; because the fords above Behobia are few, and some of those below become impassable at half-tide. It would almost appear that Soult, trusting too much to these natural obstacles, was less careful than he ought to have been to keep his troops in hand. He seemed to have forgotten the lesson which Wellington taught him at the Douro ; and he learned it again, to his sorrow. This much, however, must be said in mitigation of the French general's short-comings. His mind was distracted with many cares. His own army, disheartened by constant defeats, had 1813. PASSAGE OF THE BIDASSOA. 253 lost a great deal of its energy. The recruits whicli joined it were either old men or boys. He looked round for support in other quarters — and found it not. To all his entreaties for combined operations, whether from Saragossa, through the valley of Sacca, or by the rear, taking the Adour for his base, Suchet made no response. If one day he appeared to assent to some proposal, he drew back from it again the day following. Thirty-two thousand men were thus kept at a distance from the point of danger, paralysing Soult by the uncertainty which surrounded him. A good soldier and a true Frenchman, Suchet appears, like his brother marshals, to have been intolerant of superior merit in another. Unwilling to act under Soult, he exaggerated the dangers which threatened the eastern provinces, and looked on with in- difference while France itself lay, as it were, at the mercy of the invader. Meanwhile the French and English generals issued their pro- clamations. Marshal Soult appealed both to the patriotism and the fears of the French people, and called upon them in the event of their soil being violated, to rise en masse. Wellington, waiting till the proper time came, reminded his army that their countries were not at war with the French people, but with the French Grovernment. He called upon them to respect the persons and property of the inhabitants, and threatened to visit with heavy punishment any violence done to either. The appearance of this general order was accepted as a token that the advance, of which all ranks were desirous, would soon be made ; and the event was not slow in verifying the augury. On the 7th of October, at three in the morning, the allied army got under arms. A night of thunder and rain had helped to deaden the sound of artillery and pontoons as they moved along the road, and enabled Lord Wellington to dispose them ready for use amid the valleys which abut upon the river. The 1st division crowded into Fonterabia, which stands in its ruins at the mouth of the Bidassoa. The 5th concealed itself in and about Irun. Lord Aylmer's brigade, leaving its tents standing, took post in a hollow close to the ford of Behobia, and Fryer's Spaniards, to the right of this brigade, descended the heights of San Martial, and lay close among the woods at their base. Then came in succession the 4th division and the Light, threatening Vera on either side ; then Longa's Spaniards; then the 6th division; and, finally, Giron's Spaniards on the extreme right. The 2ud and 7th divisions were not at first brought into line, the former helping to maintain the blockade of Pampeluna, the latter being in reserve. But the 2nd division got into action towards the close of the day, and was carried, by the impetuosity of the men, a little too far. 254 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1813. As soon as the tide served at Fonterabia the bells of the town rang out, and were answered by some heavy guns which looked down upon the tete-de-ponf, and ruins of the bridge at Behobia. These were the appointed signals for the advance of the allied army, which was made in the order described above, and with perfect success. Not anticipating anything of the sort, Soult happened, at the moment, to be in Espalette, and before he could reach the point of danger, all his redoubts were carried. Andaya, and the high ground behind it fell to the 1st and 5th divisions, while the Spaniards clambering up the face of the steep to the right, crowned it with scarcely the loss of a man. It was a complete surprise. Nor was the case very different on the right. Vera and a strong work which supported it offered little resistance. Through the Puerta de Vera, and back upon La Ehune, indeed to the outworks of the intrenched camp at Sarre, the enemy were driven, leaving in the hands of the victors ten pieces of cannon, and many prisoners. The crossing of the Bidassoa, brilliant as it was, scarcely de- serves to be spoken of as a great military operation. Its object was to throw forward the left of the allied army, rather as a measure of convenience, than with any view of ulterior proceedings; for as long as Pampeluna held out, a serious invasion of France was impossible. Perhaps Lord Wellington was by no means con- vinced, that to invade France, circumstanced as the Allies were in the north, would as yet be judicious. He contented himself, there- fore, with occupying the high grounds between Andaya and Urogne, carrying his line thence along the ridges to the Hermetage of La Ehune. His head-quarters he had established at Vera ; and he secured his communications by laying down pontoon bridges upon the Bidassoa. Meanwhile Soult applied all his energies to the com- pletion of an intrenched camp round Bayonne, throwing up, at the same time, field works which extended all the way from St. Jean deLuz on his right, to the gorges of the mountains of Mondarran, in front of Espalette, on his left. These embraced the villages of Urogne, Ascain, and Amotz, covering, with enclosed redoubts, various points, such as Ascain, the Little Ehune, Sarre, St. Barbe, Autune, and Amotz. Placed with exceeding skill so as to com- mand every great road and practicable by-path, these redoubts were garrisoned by 66,000 veteran troops. But in addition to these troops were the divisions of Foy and Paris, which, subse- quently to the passage of the Bidassoa, had united at St. Jean Pied- de-Port ; and which continuing to threaten the blockading force, kept open, so to speak, the communications between the garrison of Pampeluna and the French army. While Lord Wellington waited for the fall of Pampeluna ; and 1813. PEKPLEXITY OF SOULT. 255 for tidings of decisive action in the north, Soult renewed his corre- spondence with Suchet, whom he again urged to abandon his own projects in Catalonia, and to think of the safety of their common country. We have shown that at one time Soult entertained serious thoughts of marching upon Saragossa, and rendering that town the base of his own and Suchet's future operations. But the passage of the Bidassoa by the English left, and the occupation by their right of the debouches of the valley of Bastan, rendered this scheme no longer feasible, and Suchet was invited to march up the Ebro and to threaten Lord Wellington's rear, while he should be assailed in front from St. Jean de Luz. Suchet, however, preferred lingering in his own province, and devoting his time to civil administration. In despair Soult seems to have meditated shifting the scene of war and marching, at all hazards, into Arragon ; but again his schemes were frustrated. The winter set in this year earlier, and with more than usual severity. A succession of heavy rains swelled the torrents, and rendered the paths through the valleys impracticable. Nothing, therefore, remained but to watch, as he anxiously did, the formidable enemy in his front, and to employ every disposable man in strengthening the lines, within which he determined to resist the attack when it should be delivered. All this while the blockade of Pampeluna was kept up with the utmost rigour. The garrison suffered great privations, being reduced to a few ounces of bread and a little horse-flesh daily ; yet the governor, faithful to the trust reposed in him, refused to surrender. He gave out, indeed, that he was determined to blow up the works, and to force his way through the besiegers sword in hand. But these designs, if indeed he had ever seriously enter- tained them, were abandoned on receipt of a message to the effect that if any damage were done, either to the fortifications or to the stores, he should himself be hanged, and every tenth man under his orders, shot. That Lord Wellington would have permitted this threat to be carried into effect, is, to say the least, extremely improbable. No leader of an army, either in ancient or modern times, was ever more tender than he of human life. We may therefore conclude, that the threat was uttered, only with a view to deter General Cassan from the perpetration of an act, ungenerous in itself and contrary to all the laws of war. Be this, however, as it may, either the threat or his own more sober reflections induced Greneral Cassan to stop short of such a gross and wanton outrage. He continued, indeed, to hold out till the last barrel of food in the place was consumed; and then, after a vain attemi^t to obtain better terms, surrendered at discretion. Pampeluna fell on the 30th of October. There had arrived before 256 MEMOIE OF THE DUKE OF AVELLINGTON. 1813. this, urgent entreaties from home, that the army might be led, with as little delay as possible, into France; and the tidings from the north induced Lord Wellington to give to them his favourable consideration. But he did not conceal either from Lord Bathurst or himself, that the operation must be attended with great risk. Soult's army was little inferior in point of numbers to his own. The scale was turned in his favour by about 20,000 Spaniards only. It was quite in Suchet's power to from a junction with Soult, either in rear of the Adour, or between that river and the Nivelle, and a leve en masse, should such be called out, could not fail to give him serious embarrassment. Nor was this all. After again sounding him on the propriety of embarking the greater portion of the British troops, and acting with them in a subordinate capacity as the right wing of the allied army in the Netherlands, the British Grovernment compromised matters by dispatching Sir Thomas Gfraham into Holland with the Prince of Orange, and placing under his orders all the reinforcements which had been originally intended for service in Spain. For these reasons, and because of the growing distrust of the Spanish Government, which not only neglected the national troops more and more, but con- tinually threw impediments in the way of his arrangements for the proper supply of his own, Wellington seems never to have been anxious for a precipitate inroad into the south of France. The great victory at Leipsic, however, the advance of the Allies to the Rhine, and the efforts which Napoleon made to strengthen himself, by drawing corps after corps from the side of the eastern Pyrenees, overcame his scruples. He caused ]-oads to be made, leading in the direction of the enemy's lines. He conveyed guns, some dismounted, some dragged by strength of hand, over the hills; and he closed up Greneral Hill, with the 6th and 2nd divisions, into the valley of Bastan, and now only waited till the weather should moderate, and the high-roads, if not the bye-paths, become practicable for wheel carriages. On the 6th the rains ceased, and on the 7th orders were given for a general advance on the morrow. It was found, however, on reconnoitering, that no troops could move as yet, so deep and miry were the lanes. The order was in consequence countermanded, and during the 8th and 9th there was the calm which precedes a storm. Two hours before dawn on the 10th, the troops got under arms, and never since the war began, had they been in such mag- nificent condition. The state of the different regiments shows that 40,000 British bayonets and sabres stood, the previous evening, under their colours. The Portuguese did not fall short of 25,000, and the Spaniards, greatly improved both in equipment 1813. PREPAEATIONS FOR BATTLE. 257 and drill, amounted to as many more. The total strength of the allied army could not, therefore, fall short of 90,000 men, with ninety pieces of cannon. Of the French army we have elsewhere spoken. Though reinforced of late by fresh levies, which consisted almost entirely of recruits, many of them as yet ill-instructed in the very elements of drill, it was still numerically inferior to the Allies. On the other hand, Soult had all the advantages of posi- tion. His line might perhaps be too extensive, and its conforma- tion in the centre, where the village of Sarre protruded, was decidedly at fault. But all Soult's works, with this exception, flanked one another ; and many were inclosed, having troupe de lowps and deep ditches to cover them. On the whole he had chosen his field of battle well, and his artillery was very efficient. The plan of attack on the side of the Allies may be stated in few words. It was Lord Wellington's object to break through the French centre, to march, having done so, direct upon Bayonne, and thus to interpose himself between that city and one if not both of the separatf5*portions of the beaten army. But in order to accom- plish this, it was necessary to engage the enemy's attention at all points along the 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 Spaniards, and a due proportion of artillery, was directed to move against Clausel's position in rear of Ainhoe. Beresford, with the 3rd, 4th, and 7th divisions, fell upon the redoubts in front of Sarre, and upon Sarre itself; while Alton, with the Light Division, and Longa's Spaniards, attacked the Little Rhune, and co-operated with Geron in assaultincr the heisrhts 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 Fryer's Spaniards, 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 suc- ceeded 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 direct. His force consisted of the 1st and 5th divisions, of the brigades of Wilson, Bradford, and Aylmer, of Vandeleur's light dragoons, the 12th and 16th, and of the heavy German cavalry. In spite of the obstacles presented by defiles and broken roads, the attacks, thus skilfully arranged, succeeded in every quarter. s 258 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON 1813. On the right, and in the centre, redoubts and entrenchments were carried with little comparative loss to the assailants. 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. Yet so much more serious than had been anticipated were the obstacles presented by the face of the country, that daylight failed before full advantage could be taken of the successes thus achieved. Soult, on the other hand, was not slow in perceiving that his lines had ceased to be tenable. He withdrew from such of the works as he still held when darkness set in, and before day-dawn on the 11th, was across the Nivelle, with his right on the sea at Bedart, and his left at St. Barbe. The battle of the Nivelle cost the Allies, in killed, wounded, and missing, 2694 officers and men. The loss to the French was much more severe ; it amounted to 4265, including 1400 prisoners. They left, besides, in the hands of the victors, tifty-one pieces of cannon, six ammunition waggons, 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 Bedart. But the advance of the Allies was too formidable for them. As soon as light came on, 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. He again shifted his ground. He fell back towards Bayonne, in the entrenched camp before which he esta- blished himself, having one post at Anglette, on the great Madrid road, and others to the right and left of it, fPom the Adour to the Nive. The weather, which had been tolerably fine throughout the 10th, broke again on the 11th, and for several days the rain fell in torrents. Lord Wellington found it necessary, in consequence, to halt : and, in order to preserve the health of his troops, to place them under cover. His anxiety all this while to save the people of the country from outrage, and to induce them to live peaceably in their own dwellings, was extreme. With this view, he invited the local magistrates to come to him, and assured them of his pro- tection. He caused placards to be posted up, calling upon the people to arrest and bring to head-quarters any person from whom they might suffer wrong ; and he hanged, without mercy, several, both English and Portuguese, soldiers, who were taken in the act of marauding. With his English and Portuguese troops these measures had the desired effect. They perfectly understood the 1813. MISCONDUCT OF THE SPANIARDS. 259 motives which actuated their chief, and submitted to a discipline which was as politic as it was strict. Not so the Spaniards. They appeared to consider that the time had come for avenging- upon France the wrongs which their own country had suffered ; and they committed, wherever they came, acts of the most atrocious brigandage. Against tliem, not less than against the rest, the power of the law was directed. The generals had the folly to remonstrate : and they received the rebuke which they merited. " I did not come into France," he wrote to Greneral Fryer, " to plunder. I have not been the means of killing and wounding 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 our armies should subsist upon the resources of the country." All this, how- ever, availed not ; and he at once, without a moment's hesitation, sent back the whole of his Spanish contingent into Spain. " I must tell your lordship," he ^vrote to Lord Bathurst, on the 21st of November, " that our success, and everything, depends upon our moderation and justice, 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 suffered from the invaders. I cannot, therefore, venture to bring them back into France, unless I can feed and pay them ; and the official letter, which will go to your lordship by this post, will show you the state of our finances and prospects. If I could but bring forward 20,000 good Spaniards, paid and fed, I should have Bayonne. If I could bring forward 40,000, T 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 jaaying and supplying them." What an insight does this extract from Wellington's correspon- dence afford us into the difficulties of his situation, up to the last stage in the war ! He is still starved by his own Grovernment — still neglected and thwarted by the governments of Portugal and Spain ; still hampered, for lack of means, at a time when, in order to give him free action, no sacrifice, financial or otherwise, should have been accounted too great. Yet he keeps his temper ; and considers that he is only the more required to make up, by S 2 260 MEMOIE OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1813. personal exertion, for the lack of the support which is not afforded from without. His moderation, likewise, never forsakes him. In the full career of victory, he remembers the instability of fortune, and counsels peace, if it can be obtained with honour. " I have taken measures," he says, "to open correspondence with the interior, by which I hope to know what passes, and the sentiments of the people ; and I will take care to keep your lordship acquainted with all that I may learn. In the meantime I am convinced, more than ever, that Napoleon's power stands upon corruption ; that he has no adherents in France but the principal officers of his army, and the employes civiles of the Government, and possibly some of the new proprietors ; but even these last I consider doubtful. Not- withstanding this state of things, I recommend to your lordship to make peace with him, if you can acquire all the objects which you have a right to expect. If Bonaparte becomes moderate, he is probably as good a sovereign as we can desire in France ; if he does not, we shall have another war in a few years." Of the wisdom, as well as the humanit}^, which dictated this policy, ample proof was soon afforded. The people of the country returned to their homes ; they placed themselves under the pro- tection of the invading army, and suffered no wrong. Men, women, and children, went where they would, and did as they pleased. All that was required of them was, to aff'ord to the troops accommodation in their houses ; and this they did cheerfully, because they gained, instead of losing, by the presence of a foreign army among them. *' The natives," Lord Wellington wrote, " are not only reconciled to the invasion, but wish us success, afford us all the supplies in their power, and exert themselves to'get intelli- gence for us." Again, " It is a curious circumstance that we are the protectors of the property of the inhabitants against the plunder of their own armies ; and that their cattle, property, &c., are driven into our lines." Lord Wellington had halted after the battle of the Nivelle, simply because the weather rendered further military operations imjjossible. The position which he took up was neither strong nor convenient, and it left the enemy free to seek supplies from all the country on either bank of the Adour. He only waited till the rains should cease, in order to remedy the latter of these defects ; and a succession of dry days in the early part of December brought him the opportunity which he was seeking. Accordingly on the 8th the allied troops quitted their cantonments. The right, under Hill, received instructions to cross the Nive by a ford between Cambo and Itsassue, which operation Beresford was to favour by passing his column on a pontoon bridge at Ustearitz. Meanwhile 1813. THE ENGLISH CROSS THE NIVE. 261 Hope was to drive in the enemy's advanced posts, along the whole front of the entrenched camp, and to keep Soult occupied while Hill and Beresford were crossing the river. Not a check occurred in the execution of these complicated operations. Hope carried all before him, and forced Soult to develope his strength in the rear of Anglette, while Beresford and Hill compelled the troops in their front to give ground. That night the right of the allied army was established on the Adour ; its communications with the centre being kept up through Villa Franca, and by a bridge upon the Nive. The fighting came to an end about two in the afternoon ; and Lord Wellington, after closely reconnoitring the enemy's en- trenched camp, gave orders for Sir John Hope's column to return to its quarters. The troops retraced their steps towards St. Jean de Luz under a pelting rain, a brigade of the 5th division being left to hold the outposts at Barouilhet. Before this retrogression began Soult had arrived at Bayonne, too late however to trouble Lord Wellington in his proceedings ; but he did not fail to observe that, however desirable in many respects his change of position might be, it was attended by one serious drawback. It had placed the right of the allied army at a distance of three leagues from the left with a wide river between. A chance seemed thus to be afforded him of retrieving recent reverses, and he at once made up his mind to take advantage of it. He gave orders for the march of the mass of his divisions to the right, so as to bring them upon that portion of the allied army which lay to the left of the Nive ; and he hoped, not unreasonably, that by a vigorous attack, he should be able to overwhelm it before support could arrive. It was a plan dictated by the first principles of the art of war ; and so confident was its author of success, that on the evening of the 9th he wrote to the Due de Feltre at Paris, " I hope that I shall have to announce to you a great victory." M. Brialmont in describing the operations which ensued seems to account for Soult's failure, by laying the blame partly upon himself, partly upon Grenerals Foy and Villatte. " Instead of marching," he says, " upon the decisive point of Arcangues, Soult directed his principal movement upon Birouilhet ; and the attack, partly in consequence of the bad state of the roads, which the rains had rendered well nigh impassable, partly through the irresolution of Foy and Villatte, lacked both vigour and unity." This is not quite a fair representation of the case. Arcangues, a village with a chateau and an old church, stands upon the summit of a liill, the approaches to which were extremely difficult. The plateau of Barouil- 8 3 262 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OP WELLINGTON. 1813. het, or Biaritz, on the other hand, is flat, with a good deal of wood, and the great road from Vittoria to Bayonne passes over it. This road being quite practicable on the 10th, was from two to three eminences beyond the line of the allied sentries, commanded, to a considerable extent, by artillery. By that road, therefore, and through the woods which skirt it, Soult's main attack ought to have been directed, and it was so directed. But the error which Soult committed was far more serious than a mistake in the point to be assailed. He began his attack too soon. He took the initiative with two divisions only, the rest being still on the march, and thus gave time for the English left to close up before the main body of his own army was in a condition to enter into the battle. That mistake he was never afterwards able to retrieve. The brigade at the outposts held its ground till reinforcements arrived. An entire division, with Lord Aylmer's brigade, was on the ground by ten or eleven o'clock in the day, and before noon, the whole of the 1st division, with Vandeleur's cavalry, stood in reserve in front of Bedart. There was a pause in the action about noon which lasted rather more than an hour. Foy's and Villatte's divisions, roughly handled, hung back, while on both sides supports were arriving. About two o'clock Soult had the whole of his force in hand, and he let it loose with great fury upon Hope's corps. For a moment the first line, consisting of a Portuguese brigade, and a brigade of the oth division, seemed to waver, but the second line moved up, and the French were again beaten back. Darkness then set in, and the troops on both sides slept on their arms. Next day the combat was renewed with no better success ; the chateau and church of Arcangues being likewise assailed. And again on the 12th, a partial encounter took place. By this time, however, the 3rd, 4th, 6th, and 7th British divisions began to make their appearance, moving in rear of the threatened points, and the great road was safe. But Soult resolved to strike one more blow for the victory. He withdrew in the night from the field of battle at Barouilhet, and leaving two divisions and the reserve to garrison the entrenched camp, marched, with 35,000 men and twenty -two pieces of cannon, through Bayonne. His intention was to overwhelm Hill, whose rear was at the same time threatened from Hasparran, by Paris's division, and by a corps of light cavahy under Pierre Soult. Certainly the odds were very much in his favour. Hill's force amounted to no more than 13,000 men with fourteen guns. It was besides isolated, the 6th and 7th divisions having moved to Hope's assistance ; but it was admirably placed, and very skilfully handled. It occupied a pla- teau, enclosed between the Adour on one side, and an impassable swamp on the other. The front was narrow, and the aj)proaches 1813. HILL ATTACKED. 263 so difficult, that Soult was never able to bring more than 25,000 men to the point, and only 15,000 or 16,000 into action. The British troops were, moreover, full of confidence ; and they received the shock -svith undaunted resolution. From about eight in the morning till twelve the battle raged with extreme fury ; but the assailants could not gain a foot of ground. On the contrary, they were charged in their turn, and drew off, just as Lord Wellington arrived to support them with the 6th division. Soult perceived that his opportunity was lost ; and retreated with precipitation, but in good order, to his entrenched camp. The loss to the English, in the course of these operations, was severe. It amounted in all to 650 killed, 3907 wounded, and 504 missing. The enemy suffered even more ; their killed and wounded alone falling little short of 10,000. But in addition to this, they were weakened by the desertion of three Grerman batta- lions, who, to the number of 1300, came over, with their arms, on the evening of the 11th, to the English lines. So ended a series of battles, which were fought with great bravery on both sides, under all the disadvantages of inclement weather, and of roads well nigh impassable. Lord Wellington has been blamed for leaving Hill exposed at St. Pierre, and for failing to make himself master, after his successes on the 10th and the 12th, of the intrenchments, then feebly guarded, which lay in front of his own right. The exposure of Hill was, in some measure, imavoidable, assuming the move on the 9th to have been a judicious one ; and the inaction of Hill's corps, during the combats of the 10th, 11th, and 12th, seems to have been dictated by his own discretion. Hill, as the event proved, was safe in his position at St. Pierre. Had he thrown himself upon the intrenched camp beyond it, he would have entirely broken the link which connected him with the centre of the allied army ; for d'Armagnac's division would have been free to move, and to fall upon the bridges at Villa Franca and Ustaritz, and to destroy them. It is not, how- ever, quite clear that the acquisition of the neck of land between the Nive and the Adour was worth the risk which was necessarily incurred when Wellington threw himself astride upon the former river. Wellington's error, therefore, — • if, indeed, he committed one, — lay in extending his army too far, the situation of which, on the 9th, invited his adversary to try, on the 10th, the manoeuvre in which he failed. Perhaps, had Soult attacked more vigorously, the issue might have been different ; but this is by no means certain. The rain, which had fallen at intervals from the evening of the s 4 264 MEMOIR OP THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1813. 9th to the morning of the 13th, now became incessant. It pene- trated the tents which had here and there been brought up, and rendered bivouacking impossible. Lord Wellington, therefore, having settled his outposts, withdrew to his old ground, and cantoned his men and horses in St. Jean de Luz, and in the towns and villages which extend from that place, along the plateau of Biaritz, through Arcangues, to St. Pierre. ,1813. WINTER QUAETERS. 205 CHAP. XX. CAMPAIGN OF 1814. — PASSAGE OF THE TRXBITTARIES TO THE ADOtTK. — BATTLE OF OKTHES. — PASSAGE OF THE ADOITR. — BAXONNE INVESTED. Fkom the end of December, 1813, up to the middle of February, 1814, military operations in the south of France were confined to occasional affairs at the outposts. The French would, from time to time, drive in a British picquet, or push a reconnoissance along the front of the British line, which would get under arms, here and there, repel the attack, and return to its cantonments. But no event occurred worthy of notice, except in the direction of St. Jean Pied-de-Port. From that fortress, which he still held, General Paris moved, with the bulk of his division, and fell in on the left of Soult's allignment, near Baygorry and Bedarry. There he resigned the command to Greneral Harispe, who, being a Biscayan, exercised a good deal of influence over the people, and induced them to assemble in partisan corps. It is true that the misconduct of Mina's Spaniards contributed not a little to this result. Mina had been moved up from the rear late in December, on an assurance that his people should be restrained from plunder, and was employed in the blockade of St. Jean Pied-de-Port. But the temptation proved too strong for Spanish troops, and they robbed and ill- treated the inhabitants in all the villages near. The consequence was, a general rising about Baygorry and Bedarry, which, being supported by Harispe's division, compelled Mina to retire into the valley of Bastan. It is impossible to say how far the mischief might have spread, had not Lord Wellington, with his usual judg- ment, taken steps to restrain it. He replaced the Spaniards with better troops, caused the strictest discipline to be maintained, and, at the same time, issued a proclamation, which threatened with instant death every peasant taken with arms in his hands, and the destruction of every town or village which harboured brigands. This combination of firmness with conciliation effected its purpose, though not till after several convoys had been cut off, and a good deal of baggage captured. Such was the condition of affairs in French Biscay when the adherents of the house of Bourbon began in earnest to bestir 266 MEMOIR OP THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1813. themselves. The Due d'Angouleme, attended by several emigres nobles, arrived at Lord Wellington's head-quarters, and was received with the courtesy due to his rank and misfortunes. Neither to his overtures, however, nor to those of his friends from the interior, would Lord Wellington listen ; being wisely determined not to commit himself, nor to compromise others, or permit them to compromise themselves by declarations of principles which might be inopportune. And this conduct was the more judicious that Napoleon, driven to his last shifts, was known to be arranging terms of reconciliation with Spain. He withdrew his demand for the territory between the Ebro and the Pyrenees, and offered to restore Ferdinand to the throne, on the sole condition of an amnesty to Joseph's adherents and the retention, for a while, of two frontier fortresses by the French. To this arrangement, the treaty, as it was called, of Vaulenpay, Ferdinand assented. He was childishly eager to return to his own country, and doubtless entertained as little purpose of fulfilling the conditions to which he might subscribe as he showed himself, by and by, mindful of the assurances which he had given, in his humiliation, to the Cortes. But the Spanish Eegency — for once advised by Lord Wellington — refused to ratify the bargain. Ferdinand remained a little while longer a prisoner in France, and Spain was not separated from England, as Napoleon intended that it should be. It was at this juncture, also, that the English Grovernment, urged thereto by the Emperor of Eussia, again proposed to Lord Wellington either to transfer himself and his army to the Nether- lands or, if that step were considered unadvisable, to push forward without dela}^, so as to operate a strong diversion in favour of the Allies. His answer can best be given in his own words. Writing to Lord Bathurst, on the 21st of December, 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 ; but I should be guilty of a useless 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 discontinued. 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 Peninsula, the British Grovernment 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 Portu- guese could have resisted for a moment, if the British force had 1814. LETTER TO LORD BATHURST. 267 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 Bordeaux of an army of reserve of 100,000 men. Is there any man weak enough to suppose that one-third of the numbers first mentioned would be employed against the Spaniards and Portuguese, if we were withdrawn? Another observation which I have to submit is, that in a war, in which every day offers a crisis, the result of which may affect the world for ag'es, the change of the scene of the operations of the British army would put that army entirely hors de combat 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 com- manding 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 properly supported by the fleet, I must have the only fortress there is on this frontier, if it can be called a fortress ; and that in a very short space of time. If I could put 40,000 Spaniards into the field, I should probably have my posts on the G-aronne. Does any man suppose that Napoleon would not feel an army in such a position more than he wovild feel 30,000 or 40,000 British troops laying siege to one of his fortresses in Holland ? If it be only the resources of men and money of which he will be deprived, and 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. But if I am right in believing that there is a strong Bourbon party in France, and that that party is the preponderating one in the south of France, what mischief must not our army do him in the position I have supposed, and what sacrifices would he not make to get rid of us ? " Moved by this reasoning, as well by his appeal to the fact, that the military resources of Great Britain were not adequate to keeping on foot two armies at two different points in the theatre of war, the Government abandoned, finally, its ill-advised purpose of leaving Spain to fight its own battles, and causing the British Peninsular army to become a mere limb of the great allied force in the north of France ; yet this concession to common sense was not made without some reserve, for, as we have elsewhere explained. Sir Thomas Grraham was sent to Holland, with troops enough to serve little purpose there, yet sufficiently numerous to deprive Lord Wellington of the reinforcements on which he had counted, 233 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1814. while some of his best foreign corps were withdrawn, in order that they might form a nucleus, round which a Hanoverian army could gather. Finally, money, of which he stood much in need, was with- held. It was clamoured for by Eussians, Austrians, and Prussians, and they received it ; while he was left with a military chest well nigh empty, and an Anglo-Portuguese force, reduced from 70,000 to 60,000 men, to open, as he best could, a new campaign, on the issues of which peace or war might, in a great degree, depend. It will be necessary before entering upon a narrative of the events which followed, to describe a little in detail, the situations and relative strength of the hostile armies, as they faced one another in the spring of 1814. Lord Wellington's army lay, at that time, in a semicircle three leagues in extent, with its left upon the sea at Biaritz, its centre at Ustaritz and Villa Franca, and its right on the space between the Nive and the Upper Adour. The head-quarters were at St. Jean de Luz, and the bulk of the cavalry was kept, for the sake of forage, on the other side of the Pyrenees, along both banks of the Ebro. Its total strength, inclusive of 30,000 Spaniards, may be taken at 90,000 men, of whom 10,000 were cavalry; its field artillery numbered 100 pieces. Soult's effective force, on the other hand, had been very much reduced through the constant removal into the interior of his best regiments. Independently of 6000 men allotted to garrison Bayonne, and of an infantry division set apart to guard the entrenched camp, he could not bring into line more than 35,000 or 40,000 of all arms. Three thousand of these were cavalry, and of field artillery he had disposable forty pieces. In point of numbers, therefore, as well as in the morale and equipment of his men, Wellington was now greatly superior to him ; yet Soult possessed, in the nature of the country, and ought to have found in the co-operation of Suchet from Catalonia, advantages almost equivalent to a perfect equality in numbers. Move where he might, by the left, by the right, or by the centre, Wellington would have deep rivers to cross ; a swampy soil to scramble over, and innumerable villages, many of them crown- ing steep heights, to carry. All the roads likewise, except that which leads from Irun to Bayonne, were mere lanes, running not nnfrequently between high banks, and so entirely unmade, that in wet weather horses sank in them to their knees, and the wheels of carriages to the axles. And as the only war which Soult now proposed to wage, was one of defence, the greater the impediments to rapid movement on either side, the more likely was he to wage it with success. It is however just to add, that Soult did, at one time, conceive the bold idea of leaving 14,000 men, 1814. POSITIONS OF BOTH ARMIES. 269 between the Lower Adour and the Graronne, and moving off with the residue to his left. His object, in this case, would have been to raise the whole country, and hang upon Wellington's right flank, and rear, should he venture further into France. But the project submitted to Napoleon was by him condemned as revolutionary in its tendencies, and no alternative remained to Soult, except to make as good a fight, on his present line, as circumstances would allow. It was evident enough that the Allies could not venture far into the French territory, leaving on their left flank, the entrenched camp at Bayonne. It was equally clear, that in order to blockade or besiege that place the French army must be driven away from it ; and the Adour, a river deep, rapid, subject to strong tides, and of great width at its mouth, must be crossed. This latter obstacle might, indeed, be escaped by a march upon Pan, which could easily be reached after passing some of the tributaries to the Adour, and from which the left of the French fortified position would be turned ; but such a movement must involve considerable risk, because of the state of isolation to which it must necessarily reduce the force left behind to restrain the garrison of Bayonne, and to protect the great line of communication with Passages. On the other hand, a simultaneous move, by the right, towards the Upper Adour, between Orthes and Peyehorade, while the left pressed in upon Anglette, promised equal advantages with much less hazard. It would force Soult to choose between two courses. If he clung to Bayonne he must be driven back in the end into the Llandes, where the superior cavalry of the Allies would overwhelm him. If, to avoid that danger, he moved in the direc- tion of Orthes, Bayonne must be left to its fate, and then by means, which Lord "Wellington had already begun to prepare, the Adour might be crossed below the town, and the blockade com- pleted. But before all this could be achieved, the country, between Villa Franca and St. Jean Pied-de-Port, must be cleared of the enemy's troops. Harispe, for example, occupied a strong position at Helette, and Paris with his division lay at Garris. It would be necessary, in the first instance, to dislodge both, and to shut up the garrison of St. Jean Pied-de-Port completely. As soon as the weather began to moderate, and the early verdure of spring made its appearance, Wellington moved up his cavalry to Andaya, and placed his pontoons, Avith the bulk of his park, along the great road in front of St. Jean de Luz. He began also to collect boarding and cordage for the bridge, which he intended to lay upon the Lower Adour, and to gather in and number at Passages and elsewhere the craft required for its construction. 270 MEMOIE OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1814. These were chiefly country boats, luggers, small schooners, and chasse-marees, to which crews of British seamen were told off from the squadron of which Admiral Penrose had the command. At last, on the 14th of February, the army took the field. Hill's corps fell suddenly upon Harispe at Hellette, and drove him back across the Joyeuse, upon St. Martin, while Mina advancing from the valley of Bastan, interposed between him and St. Jean Pied-de- Port. Next day Hill was again engaged with Harispe, to support whom, however, Paris, and a considerable body of troops from Soult's centre, had arrived. After a sharp resistance at Garris, he compelled the whole to retire across the Bidouze at Le Palaise, breaking down the bridges behind them. But such an obstacle stood little in the way of the victors. They repaired the bridge early on the 16th, passed the river the same day ; and fighting and winning at every step were established on the evening of the 18th on the Gave d'Oleron. The pontoons not having been able to keep pace with the troops, a halt on the right became necessary, of which Lord Wellington took advantage to return to the left, where the army had likewise been put in motion. Here and along the left centre little fighting took place. The enemy's pickets fell back, as the allied light troops came on, and Anglette with the range of high grounds above it, as well as the flat country which interposes between Bayonne and the sea, were occupied. But a succession of adverse winds had delayed the progress of the vessels round the coast ; and till they could arrive, care was taken that no sign should indicate the purpose of the English to attempt the passage of the Adour. It is possible that this delay, however vexatious it may have appeared at the moment, assisted, rather than retarded, the accomplishment of Lord Wellington's great design. Not observing any preparation to force the passage of the river below Bayonne, Soult came to the conclusion that his right was secure. He therefore turned his undivided attention to the dangers which seemed to menace his left, and played his enemy's game by taking vigorous steps to repel them. Having reconnoitred the course of the Lower Adour, and settled with Sir John Hope where the bridge should be fixed. Lord Wel- lington returned on the 20th to Garris. On the 23rd the pontoons arrived, and on the 24th he passed the Gave d'Oleron between Sauveterre and Navarens. The enemy's rearguard fell back fight- ing across the Gave de Pau, which was passed, as the other affluent of the Adour had been, on the 26th by Beresford's corps; and the same day Picton's division, and a considerable body of cavalry, came into line. Thus Soult n,nd Wellington once more confronted 1814. POSITION OF ORTHES. 271 one another ; for it was evident from the amount of force shown by the enemy, that the plans of the English general had succeeded, and that Soult, drawn away from his own right, left Hope at liberty to establish a safe and permanent communication across the Lower Adour, and possibly to open up a new harbour under cover of the floating bridge, when it should have been established there. The French army occupied a very strong position. Eesting its right on St. Boes, and the commanding heights around, it stretched away across a range of difficult country to Orthes, whence still farther to the left lay some heights which were likewise strongly guarded. The Grave de Pau ran in front of the whole position with a tortuous current. It had ceased, indeed, to present an obstacle, because opposite to the right and centre the British army was partially across. But on the left, at Orthes, and under the heights beyond Orthes, it still separated the French from the English troops ; and being of considerable importance was closely guarded. The centre, a good deal retired, formed, as it were, a curtain, which the flanks protected, and the flanks, owing to the nature of the ground, were very formidable. Having closely examined these positions. Lord Wellington deter- mined to turn the enemy's left, covering that operation by an at- tempt upon their centre. To effect this object. Marshal Beresford, with the 4th and 7th infantry divisions and a brigade of cavalry, moved, about nine o'clock on the morning of the 28th, round the hills about St. Boes, while Picton, with the 3rd and 6th divisions, and another cavalry brigade^ attacked the heights in the centre. The Light Division was in reserve. Meanwhile Hill, with the 2nd division and a brigade of cavalry, threatened the right, and manoeuvred for an opportunity of forcing the passage of the river, which, later in the day, he achieved. All the attacks were resolutely delivered, and as resolutely met. Beresford carried St. Boes itself; but the ground to the left and rear of the village was so broken that his troops found it impossible to deploy. With great gallantry they endeavoured to ascend, skirmishing or in columns, which threaded the narrow lanes ; but the advantage in a contest so conducted was certainly on the side of the defenders, and the assailants were driven back more than once with great slaughter. Beresford's next thought seems to have been, to defile to his left, thus cettino- round the obstacle which he felt himself unable to surmount. He saw, however, that such a movem.ent must necessarily separate his corps from Picton's ; and he abstained from attempting it. And now, just as Soult was beginning to congratulate himself on a great victory, Wellington suddenly changed his plan. The Light 272 MEMOm OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1814. Division was brought up and launched against the left of those heights, from the front and right of which Beresford had been repulsed. The 52nd regiment, which led the way, fell sviddenly upon the rear of the troops which were still engaged with Beresford ; and though exposed to a galling fire, while cross- ing a marsh, it bore down all opposition. Forward sprang the 4th and 7th divisions, Vivian's cavalry, and two batteries of artillery, while Beresford, observing the battle in his front grow slack, advanced again to renew it. Reille, who with three French divisions held this post, could offer no effective resistance, and thus, at the end of seven hours' desperate fighting, St. Boes, with all the heights both behind and before it, were in possession of the English. Meanwhile Hill had made good his passage of the Gave above Orthes, and after a brief survey of the state of the battle, he marched with his whole corps, direct towards the road from Orthes to Le Sevre ; with a view to cut off the enemy's retreat in that direction. The movement was not lost upon Soult, who saw the danger with which it threatened him, for it compelled him to change what was an orderly and skilful retreat, into something not far removed from a rout. He succeeded, however, by these means, and at the cost of many prisoners, and a still greater number of deserters, in heading the British column, and in crossing the Luy ; the bridges upon which, and upon its affluents, he broke down behind him. The loss to the enemy in the battle of Orthes, was 4000 men and six pieces of cannon. The Allies had 277 killed, 1923 wounded, and 70 missing. Among the wounded was Lord Wellington him- self, who received a severe contusion from a ball, which glanced off from his sword-guard with such violence as to throw him from his horse. He was on his feet again, however, in a moment, and in a condition to laugh at the Spanish Oeneral Alava, who had likewise been wounded, almost at the same instant, in that fleshy and very sensitive part of the body, any accident to which is apt to excite the mirth, rather than the sympathy of lookers on. While these things were in progress on the right of the allied army, Hope on the left executed his part in the drama, with all the skill and determination which were natural to him. Having waited for the chasse-marees till the night of the 22nd, he pushed forward a battery of heavy 18-pounders, to the left bank of the Adour ; and early on the 23rd, opened a fire upon some gun-boats and a corvette, which kept guard, so to speak, over the mouth of the estuary. A sharp contest ensued, which ended in favour of the land-battery ; for the gun-boats were either sunk or driven ashore, 1814. THE ADOUR BRIDGED. 273 and the corvette, to avoid a similar fate, moved higlier up the stream. The same day the pontoons, eighteen in number, with six small boats, which attended them, were carried down to a point well concealed by a low pine wood. There they were formed into rafts, and upon these, each of which could carry no more than fifty men, about 600 infantry of the guards immediately crossed ; and established themselves with a detachment of rockets, the first which had as yet been brought into play, among the sand hills on the right bank of the river. And time it was that they should ; for the progress of the rafts had been noticed from the citadel, and two French battalions hurrying down, fell upon the English troops. The contest was brief, and not very sharp. A flight of rockets, one of which took effect, so alarmed and disorganised the enemy's columns, that no exertions on the part of the officers could keep the men in their places. They turned and fled, while fresh detach- ments of British troops arrived every moment from the other side, and the occupation of the right bank of the river became secure. All this while the chasse-marees, which had been beating up against adverse winds, were seen closing in at an early hour on the morning of the 24th with the coast. There is a bar at the mouth of the Adour which at low tide is partially dry, and which can be evaded at other times only by vessels which are piloted into narrow and tortuous channels. Buoys and land-marks had, of course, been removed at this time, and now the great difficulty was, how to carry the sixty small craft over. But well-manned and gallantly led, they ran at the bar, and carried it, so to speak, by assault. Some struck the sand, rocked for a few moments amid the breakers and Upset ; others pressed forward by hand, their crews jumping out and dragging them over the shallows, reached deep water on the other side. A few were so fortunate as to hit the channels and entered the river triumphantly. The result was that, out of about sixty vessels, thirty, including three gun-boats, made good their entrance, and Were immediately moored in a line, with intervals of about forty feet between, at the place which had been selected for the purpose. Upon these, fastened stoutly together by hawsers, which extended stem and stern, from bank to bank, rafters and planks were laid ; and with such zeal and diligence was the work carried on, that by mid-day on the 26th, the bridge was strong enough to bear. Then followed the construction of a boom, wherewith to ward off any floating missiles which the enemy might drop down the stream ; and last of all, the gun-boats took up their sta- tions in front, while batteries of heavy guns on either bank of 274 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1814. the river, sufficiently protected both flanks. General Thouvenot, the Governor of Bayonne, had offered little opposition to these operations. He could not spare from out of the entrenched camp, which all this while the Allies seemed to threaten, force enough to fight a serious battle, at five miles' distance from the citadel. He could only watch with anxiety the progress of a work which he did not venture to interrupt, and keep his outposts so far in advance, as to give an opportunity for supplies to come in. Against these Sir John Hope directed an attack on the morning of the 27th, and after a sharp contest, they were all driven in, and the investment of the citadel rendered complete. Thenceforth his attention was turned exclusively to the bringing up of stores and to the preparation of materiel for a siege ; which, looking to the nature and composition of his army, and the strength of the garrison within the walls, promised to be as difficult as any which had been undertaken since the commencement of the war. We have seen that Soult, driven from his strong position near Orthes, directed 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 must have been entirely cut off 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 ah-eady, 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 Wellington followed him as far as Sault-Navaille. There, in consequence of the failure of daylight, the English halted ; and, next day, continued the pursuit in three distinct columns. The centre, marching upon St. Sever, crossed the Adour, unopposed at that point. The left, under Marshal Beresford, made for INIount de Marsan, where it took possession of a large magazine of pro- visions. Hill, with the right, overtook Clausel at Aire, and imme- diately attacked him. It was a sharp encounter ; but it ended in the overthrow of the French, who retreated across the Adour, 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, lind especially the bye-paths, became difficult for the passage of ,1814. LORD WELLINGTONS TROGKESS. 275 guns, and quite impracticable for the pontoon train. Lord Wel- lington was thus reduced to a state of comparative inactivity, of which Soult availed himself, with his usual ability, to restore order in his ranks, and to gather in as many conscripts as could be col- lected 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 extent 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 tefes-de-jxtuf, and numerous works of less impor- tance. 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 JMont de JMarsan ; thrown a bridge over the mouth of the Adour ; and besides invest- ing St. Jean Pied-de-Port, and other lesser fortresses, now in his rear, he had placed Bayonne, the bulwark of France on this side, in a state of siege. Finally, 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, doubtless superior to that which Soult could now oppose to him. Bayonne, for example, which the enemy held with 10,000, could not be blockaded with less than 20,000 men ; and the garrison of St. Jean Pied-de-Port, probably not 500 strong, gave occupa- tion to almost as many thousands. 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. At the battle of Orthes, for example, Soult brought into the field 40,000 men, of whom 35,000 were good troops.* Wellington had in line a cavalry force which might be superior to that of the enemy by about 4800 sabres ; and his artillery was eight pieces in excess. But in infantry he was inferior by at least 5000 men ; and on broken ground, such as that on which the battle was fought, infantry are of far greater importance than any other arm. So, also, in the affair of Mont de Marsan, Hill was considerably weaker, in jooint of numbers, than Clausel ; but by this time the French army laboured under that depression of moral courage to which all troops become subject after frequent defeats. Physically brave. Frenchmen cannot cease to be. To the la^t, they fought stoutly, * We follow Napier in this calculation, who, as ho wrote from documents sujiplied Ly Marshal Soult, may safely be relied upon. r 2 276 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTOJT. 1814. when face to face with the English. But they fought, or believed that they were iighting, the losing game ; and therefore, as much as through the superior gallantry of their assailants, they lost it. Besides, they were out-generaled on every occasion, and on every occasion expected to be out-generaled. While Soult was considering the use to which he had best turn some temporary advantage, Wellington, as in the battle of Orthes, changed his plan ; and by a fresh attack, where no attack was anticipated, converted defeat into victory. Unfriendly critics blame Wellington, it is true, for losing time in his pursuit of the enemy, whom he had beaten ; and even M. Brialmont, accepting the censure as just, tempers it by re- ferring to some defect, real or imaginary, in the organisation of the English army. But critics, Avhether friendly or the reverse, over- look the fact that 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 sub- sist by requisitions, was an extremity to which he would never consent to be reduced. Besides, he had great political objects before him ; and these he believed that he would most effectually subserve by adopting the very course which after experience proved to have been, even in a purely military point of view, most judicious. The south of France was greatly agitated at this time. W^eary of the war, and of the miseries which it brought upon them, the people had become weary, also, of the existing government. But they were by no means at one in desiring the restoration of the old family, though the old family had its partisans. It was necessary that Lord Wellington should deal tenderly by these feelings ; neither absolutely 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 firm- ness. In Bordeaux, for example, loyalty to the Bourbons was said to be almost universal. He determined to give it a chance, by marching thither a corps, which, if it effected no other purpose, might open for him the Lower Garonne. To Marshal Beresford, however, whom he employed on this service, he gave strict orders, not on any account to provoke a revolution. Should the authorities of their own accord proclaim Louis XVIIL, he was to offer no hindrance to the arrangement ; but he was to avoid the very appearance of suggesting, or even of officially supporting it. Bor- deaux, like every other town and district occupied by the allied troops, must, so long as hostilities continued, begoverned bymagis- 1814. LORD WELLINGTON'S PRUDENCE. 277 trates deriving their authority from the commander of the invading army. At the same time open hostility to the government of Napoleon was to be proclaimed, and magistrates and people equally assured, that whatever domestic arrangements France might prefer, would be accepted by the Allies, provided they brought peace to Europe. This 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'Angouleme pro- tested against it, and demanded, as representing 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 France, the general of their armies could not presume to recognise any other ruler. At the same time the Due was not discouraged from gathering his adherents about him ; and arrange- ments were even made for supplying them with arms, should arms be required. Meanwhile, however, every thing was done which prudence and humanity dictated, to establish between the invaders and the invaded the best understanding. With English and Portuguese regiments strict discipline 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 Welling- ton applauded certain peasants, who, in resisting an attempt to plunder their village, shot one British soldier, and brought another to head-quarters. The latter Wellington had executed on the spot. Indeed, he went further ; for on one occasion he sent home, in dis- grace, 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 the French families on whom they were quartered, and that the Portuguese were, at least, not disliked. It was more difficult to deal with the Spaniards. They soon returned to their old habits, which threatened, at one moment, to bring about very serious results. " Maintain," wrote Wellington to Fryer, " the strictest discipline, without which we are lost." And again, writing to Morillo, he expresses himself thus : " I have lost 20,000 men in this campaign; but it was not in order that Greneral Morillo, or anybody 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; but whether T 3 278 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1814. 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 Wellington's policy, and his only. The northern powers disapproved it; the Bourbons clamoured against it ; and his own government 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 proclama- tions, 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 effect. JMeu received them as an appeal which was the more deserving of attention, because it came to tliem from one who had rendered himself respected, almost beloved, by the equity and gentleness of his own proceed- ings. 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 of battles. All the peasantry desire to place themselves under his protection." In the same spirit Soult expressed himself 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 wrote to the Minister of War, "to see the inhabitants of these districts 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 rare at that period, Soult made incredible efforts 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 gratified only by the prestige of victory. At the first reverse the feeling evaporated, and the French people, amid the 1814. STATE OP FRANCE. 279 clouds of smoke which obscured the soil of Europe, saw only their own blood uselessly shed, their families wasted away, theii- goods taken from them, their happiness destroyed. However legitimate might be these subjects of regret, whatever amount of blame might attach to Napoleon, it is still impossible not to admire the heroic bands, the slaves of duty and honour, who, up to the last moment, gathered round the tricolored flag. Entire devotion to a cause, even if it be unjust, inspires greater respect than defection, sanc- tioned, though it be, by important considerations of state." 280 MExMOIE OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1814 CHAP. XXI. ADVANCE TO TOULOUSE. — BATTLE OF TOULOUSE. — SORTIE FEOM BAYONNE. — CESSATION OF HOSTILITIES. Haying extricated his army from the danger which threatened it, Soult halted between Maubourget and Euberston, in 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 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 divisions, and Vivian's light dragoons to take possession of Bordeaux, while with the remainder, con- sisting of the 2nd, 3rd, 5th, and light divisions, and the bulk of the cavalry, he himself stood fast at Aire, ready to take advantage of any false move into which his adversary might be hurried. And here there befel 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 Wellington and Soult. Each received exaggerated reports of the strength of the other ; each believed what he heard, and was guided by it. Lord Wellington, convinced that Suchet had joined Soult, abstained from molesting him in Beresford's absence ; Soult, unacquainted with the fact of Beresford's march, was content to maintain a purely defensive attitude. At last, however, 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 Gartin, 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 1814. LOUIS XVIII. PROCLAIMED IN BORDEAUX. 281 capture of Bordeaux by Beresford, aod labouring under the im- pression that Wellington had been strongly reinforced (though, in truth, the only new troops which joined him were Fryer's corps of 8000 Spaniards, and they came up on the 13th and 14tli), he became alarmed for his own communications, and retreated before dawn by St. Graudens towards Toulouse. While these things were going on along the course of the Upper Adour, Marshal Beresford effected his purpose at Bordeaux. The French 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 instructions, he advised the authorities to pause before committing 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 navigation of the river, still, however, held out, and the means at Beresford's disposal were not, upon investigation, considered 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 Graronne could not, as yet, be used as a harbour for the British fleet ; an arrangement for which, till the army should be more advanced, there was no very urgent ne- cessity. Satisfied with what had been done, and believing that one infantry division, with a few squadrons of horse, would suffice to maintain order in Bordeaux, Lord Wellington directed JNIarshal Beresford to return with the rest to his old position on the Adour. He had previously instructed Greneral 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. Neither this detachment, however, nor others, which were on the move by sea and land, from Lisbon and from England, arrived in time to take part in the operations which he meditated. Soult bad retired on the 16th ; Beresford came in late on the 17th ; and at an early hour on the 1 8th the advance began. It was Wellington's object to throw himself, by a rapid march, into the valley of the Adour, and to bar against the PVench the great road leading from Tarbes to St. Gaudeus 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. W^ith 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 done, 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, 282 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON, 1814. and Keille's divisions. The Allies were again successful, but the enemy escaped, because the pursuers, encumbered with their bridge-train, and a long array of baggage 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 Wellington throughout the whole of his campaign in the south of France. The innumerable rivers with which the country is intersected were all passable at will by the defending army. So long as they ran in So alt's rear the bridges remained ; but the moment Soult crossed, he broke the bridges down ; thus interposing between him and his pursuers, obstacles which would have proved insur- mountable, had not Lord Wellington carried with him the neces- sary appliances for repairing them. And so with respect to sup- plies of forage and provisions. Moving through a country where, for political reasons, it was essential to conciliate, and, as much as possible, to spare the inhabitants, his commissariat mules were, to the leader of the allied troops, as necessary as his 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 were required. Hence they could not well fail to out-march their pursuers, and to choose from time to time their posts of resistance. The consequence was that Soult arrived in Toulouse three whole days before Lord Wellingion; 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 operation : 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 maintaining the authority of the existing government. Covered on three sides by the canal of Languedoc, 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 offering serious resistance, except to heavy artillery. Soult displayed great engineering skill in improving these defences. He converted the canal, from the point where it falls into the Graronne 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 effected, whether the latter should decide on operating a diversion in his favour from Catalonia, or that both should retire upon Beziers. The canal of Languedoc lay, for a considerable space, within 1814. .' rOSITIOX OF TOULOUSE. 283 musket-sliot of the towD wall. It could everywhere be swept by cannon. But further to the north-east, between it and the river Ers, rnns a range of heights, called JNIount Eave. These Soult fortified by throwing up, at convenient distances, five redoul)ts, and connecting them with retrenchments. On the south-west side, with the Graronne flowing between, stood the faubourg of St. Cyprien, wdiich, like the town, was defended by an old wall, and served all the purposes of a tete-de-pont. Thus was constructed an in- trenched camp of the most formidable kind, of which Toulouse itself may be described as the citadel, every avenue of approach beiug covered by field works, and protected by a numerous artillery. From this position, which he not unnaturally regarded as im- pregnable, Soult wrote again to Suchet, imploring him to forget everything, excejjt the condition of their country, and to come to his support. It was the last appeal, and it met with no resjjonse. 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 wdth his own army and the division of Greneral Paris to wage such a war as he could. Yet, even unassisted from Catalonia, he cannot be said to have stood at great disadvantage towards his adversary. His position was excel- lent. The muster-rolls of his army show that he had 39,160 com- batants under arms, and that his artillery amounted to 80 pieces. Wellington, on the other hand, was able to bring against him only 45,000 infantry, of which 15,000 were Spaniards, with 6000 cavalry and 64 guns. Whatever the English general might gain, therefore, 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 tlian the defenders. Lord Wellington moving slowly, as the state of the roads com- pelled him to do, arrived on the 26th in sight of Toulouse. The enemy drew in their outposts on his approach, and took post behind the Garonne and the Ers. It was the first intention of the English general to pass the Graronne above the town, and thereby to interpose between Soult and Montabaun. Indeed, Sir Eowland Hill's corps was actually thrown across in the night, just beyond the junction of the Ariege with the Graronne, 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 the marshes which lie between the Graronne and the Ariege that to move even infantry through them, far more cavalry and guns, proved im- 284 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLIXGTOX. 1814. possible. Hill was, in consequence, recalled, and another point of attack chosen. It was nearer to the town, 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 insufficient span ; and Soult, warned by the attempt, threw up works to avert the danger. Nothing now remained, except to assault the heights between the Ers and the canal, and as a preliminary step, to force the passage of the Garonne below the town. Between the 28th of March and the 4th of April, a good deal of manoeuvring occurred. It was executed under no common difficulties, for heavy rains continued to fall, and all, except the great paved roads, became mere mud-tracks. On the 4th, a pon- toon bridge was laid upon the Garonne, and Marshal Beresford, with the 4th and 6th divisions of infantry, two brigades of cavalry, and a few guns, crossed. More troops were to have followed next day ; but in the night a heavy fresh came on, and, in order to save the pontoons from destruction, it was found necessary to remove them. A flying bridge was indeed established, upon which Lord Wellington himself crossed. Bvit had Soult been aware of the con- dition of this isolated corps, not more than 12,000 strong, cavalry included, he could have scarcely done otherwise than fall upon it with all his disposable strength. What the result might have been is, to say the least, doubtful. Lord Wellington, when discussing the subject in after years, always contended that an attack would have done him no harm. " I could have placed my back to the river," was his expression, " and defied the whole French army." Be that as it may, Soult, though informed that the river had been passed, made no move to ascertain the amount of force which had got over. Hence Lord Wellington was enabled, as soon as the flood subsided, to replace his bridge at a more convenient point, and to go on with his preliminary arrangements. The Allied army now extended from the angle on the Garonne, within which the faubourg of St. Cyprien stands, to a point below the junction of the Ers with that river. The communications from the centre with both flanks were kept open by bridges : with the riofht by a pontoon bridge, with the left by a flying bridge. The enemy filled all their works, from St. Cyprien, on the left, to Lafilaise and the redoubt of Syplese, on the extreme right. They had, besides, a cavalry force on the right bank of the Ers, all the bridges upon which they either broke down or strongly guarded. Nearer and nearer the storm came to them ; and at an early hour on the morning of the 10th, it broke. Lord Wellington's plan, as he himself describes it, was this : — Marshal Beresford received orders to force the passage of the Ers 1814. BATTLE OP TOULOUSE. 285 at Croix-Dorade, to march up the left bank of the river, with his flank towards the enemy, and to turn their right ; while General Fryer, with his Spanish corps, attacked, in front, the mamelon, and redoubts on Mount Kave. While this went on, the 3rd and light divisions, under Sir Thomas Pictoa and Baron C. Altin, were to draw away the enemy's attention from Mount Rave by making demonstrations on the lower part of the canal ; while Hill, on the left of the Graronne, threatened in like manner, and entirely for the same purpose, the faubourg of St. Cyprien. In spite of the impediments which bad roads threw in his way, Beresford succeeded in effecting his object. He crossed the Ers, drove the enemy from Mont Blanc, prosecuted his flank march in excellent order, and wheeling up attacked the right of the position. The Spaniards were not so fortunate. They went bravely forward in two lines, till they gained a place of shelter, just under the enemy's works. But there they halted, nor could either threats or persuasions, prevail upon them to move beyond it. General Harispe, who commanded in this part of the field, soon saw how the case stood, and leading forward his division, charged and drove the Spaniards in great confusion down the hill. Lord Wellington had himself ridden up to encourage the waverers, and Fryer and his staff exhibited the greatest personal courage ; but nothing availed. Past the commander-in-chief the crowd swept, while he, turning to an officer near him, merely said, with a laugh, " Well ! I never saw ten thousand men run a race before." A forward movement of one of the brigades of the light division, sufficed, however, to restore order. Harispe's troops seeing their advance, first halted and then withdrew, upon which the Spaniards, recovering from the panic which had fallen upon them, gathered round their standards again, and returned to the front. All this while Beresford was maintaining a fierce struggle with the divisions of D'Armagnac and Taupin. Having carried the heights of Calvanet, he found himself in a marshy bottom, along which it was impossible to drag a gun ; and exposed on his flank to a murderous fire from the redoubts on Mount Rave, and even from the town. His loss was severe, yet he steadily effected the duty entrusted to him. In describing the action, Soult says of this stage in it, "The opportunity was favom-able, and I ordered General Taupin's division to charge the enemy, to break his line and overthrow all whom he had so imprudently engaged. One brigade of D'Armagnac's division supported that attack, and a regiment of cavalry, commanded by Soult's brother, was directed to cut off the retreat of the English columns, while two other regiments should attack their left." These were spirited orders 286 MEMOIR OP THE DUKE OP WELLINGTOX. 1814. and worthy of the officer who gave them ; but they were not obeyed. Taupin's division wavered, took ground to the right, and instead of falling on, drew up in position. The English instantly formed and became the assailants. After a brief strugorle the enemy gave way, and fled back to their works, leaving the gallant Taupin mortally wounded on the tield. From that moment the fate of the day was never doubtful. Picton, it is true, carried away by his impetuosity, converted a sham into a real attack, on the tefe-de-pont at Minimes. He was repulsed ; while Hill, after carrying the first line at St. Cyprienne, found himself stopped by the second. But on these quarters of the town it had never been Lord Wellington's intention to make any real impression. His object was to master the heights of Mount Eave and the works with which they were crowned ; and to close from thence the only road now open to Soult, — that leading from the south side of Toulouse to Montpelier. In all this he entirely succeeded. Redoubt after redoubt was carried, till, in the end nothing remained for Soult, except to retire within the line of the can.al, and to consider there what course it would be prudent for him to pvu'sue. There had not been fought, since the beginning of the war, a more desperate battle than this. It cost the victors dearer in killed and wounded than the vanquished, and no small share of the loss fell upon the Spaniards. The casualties in the ranks amounted to 4659, including 543 killed, 4046 wounded, and 15 missing. In the French army 3234, including four general officers, were placed hors-de-cornbat, and a gun, which in their retreat they were unable to carry away, fell into the hands of the English. But the effect upon the morale, both of the troops and of their commander, was fatal. Soult never in his lifetime pretended to speak of the action at Toulouse as other than a defeat. He knew that the key of his position was in Lord Wellington's hands ; that the authorities and people of the town were against him ; and that the attempt to hold the place, even though for a brief space, suc- cessful, must end in his being obliged to surrender at discretion. He knew also, or guessed, that after such a fierce struggle, and with so many impediments in his way, of marsh and bridgeless rivers. Lord Wellington would not be in a condition to draw the meshes round him immediately. He halted, therefore, during the 11th, and made such dispositions as might induce the belief that he should continue the defence of the canal and of the town. But his preparations for retreat were carried on all the Avhile. He sent away such baggage as could be moved without attracting marked observation ; and the same night retreated, leaving sick. 1814. LORD WELLIXGTOX IN TOULOUSE. 2S7 woimded, heavy cannon, stores, and a considerable depot of small arms behind him. The action on the 10th had occasioned on the side of the Allies, an extraordinaxy expenditure of gun ammuni- tion. In order to cover Beresford's flank movement, an incessant cannonade had been necessary, while Picton's unfortunate con- version of a false into a real attack, consumed what might have been otherwise in reserve, and avaihible at the close of the day. This circumstance alone caused the battle to cease about four h\ the afternoon, and prevented its renewal till supplies could be brought up and distributed. It was necessary, also, before moving more to the left, to ascertain exactly how matters stood at the tete-de-pont on the right, where Hill had been engaged. These operations consumed so much time, that except by sending a cavalry force to seize the passages of the Ers, Lord Wellington found himself unable throughout the whole of the 11th to attempt any thing fresh. But his arrangements were all completed, and orders issued to take possession on the morrow of the only carriage road out of the town, when the coming in of daylight made him aware that Soult was gone. Not a French soldier showed himself at the outposts, for the very sentries were all withdrawn. That day Lord Wellington entered Toulouse. He was received, as he had been at Madrid, as a deliverer. The entire popidation met him outside the gates, and rent the air with shouts of Vive le Roi! Vive Wellington ! He was lifted from his horse, and borne upon the shoulders of men to the Court-house ; and in the evening the play chosen for his special entertainment was '"'Coeur de Lion." It seemed as if in the sense of deliverance from an imminent danger, and in weariness of the oppression under which they lived, Frenchmen had ceased to care for the humiliation of their country. That Soult, by evacuating the place, saved the people of Tou- louse from much suffering, cannot be denied. No town has ever been fought for and won without unspeakable damage to its inhabitants ; and Toulouse, lying as it did in a hollow, was more than ordinarily exposed to bombardment. But the French writers who accuse Wellington of having threatened, in the event of resistance, to burn the place with rockets, assert what is not true. He never, in any of his previous sieges, employed even sliells, where women and children were exposed to them ; and it is in the highest degree improbable that, in the present instance, he could have contemplated burning a town which the Due d'Angouleme had entreated him to spare. On the contrary, all Ids dispositions as well as his correspondence show, that he was anxious, let come what might, to spare it. He manoeuvered, indeed, to shut up Soult in the place, and but for the timely retreat of 283 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTOX. 1814. that officer on the 11th he would have succeeded. But even in this case, one or other of two results must have followed. Either Soult would have endeavoured to cut his way through, fighting a second battle, probably on the Montpelier road ; or if not relieved till his provisions failed him, he must have laid down his arms. Lord Wellington had not been in Toulouse many hours, when Colonel St. Simon arrived from Paris. He had been sent by the Provisional Grovernment to inform Soult of the abdication of Napoleon, and to desire that an end should be put to the war in the south of France. He did not linger long at the head- quarters of the Allied army ; but after communicating the welcome tidings set out in pursuit of Marshal Soult. He overtook the marshal on the 13th, who summoned a council of his general officers; read to them the letters, both of the Prince of Benevento and of Lord Wellington, and requested their advice. They were unani- mously of opinion that such communications could not be received as official ; and that for the present nothing more need be done, than to conclude a truce with the English. But Wellington, from motives which he has himself stated, and the justice of v/hich admits of no question, refused to become a party to an arrange- ment so unsatisfactory. Some of these reasons he explained, with his usual virbanity, in a letter addressed to Marshal Soult on the 14th; others he detailed at length to Sir Charles Stuart, the brother of Lord Londonderry, who was then with the Allied sovereigns in Paris. After pointing out to Soult, that it was impossible to distrust Colonel St Simon, whose statements had received con- firmation, through the English Colonel Cooke, he goes on to say : *' I have no desire to press your Excellency for a decision as to the part which you intend to play, nor to deviate from the example which the Allied sovereigns have set me, in their negociations at Paris ; but it appears to me, that if I consent to an armistice before your Excellency has followed the example of your brothers in arms, and given your adhesion to the provisional government of France, I shall sacrifice the interests, not of the Allies only, but of France itself, which is so deeply interested in avoiding a civil war. I pray your Excellency, therefore, to come at once to a decision, and to let me know what it is, because I can agree to no armistice, till this has been done." Writing on the 16th to Greneral Stuart, he says, " I thought proper to decline the offer which was made of a suspension of hostilities by Marshal Soult, in order to afford him time to gain information of the events recently passed in Paris ; and I did so ; 1st, for the reasons stated in the enclosed copy of a letter which I wrote to him on the 14th, and ecnt to him by ray aide-de-camp, 1814. SOULT GIVES IN HIS ADHESION. 289 Colonel Gordon ; 2dly, because though I see in the ' Moniteur,' of the 7th, a report from Marshal Ney, dated the 5th, that he had prevailed upon Napoleon to consent to abdicate, and expected to receive the written instrument of his abdication in the mornino- : and though Colonel Cooke says that the written instrument had been received, and Napoleon had consented to retire to the Island of Elba, I have not seen any official statement of the transaction ; and any time given to Marshal Soult, and any appearance of an understanding between him and me, before he shall have declared his submission to the provisional government, would have had the effect of keeping his army united, and would have afforded scope and opportunity for all the intrigues for the formation of a party of which Soult's army would have been the nucleus for the support of Napoleon's pretensions." We have extracted these passages from the Duke's published correspondence, for two reasons ; 1st, they effectually get rid of the claim, set up by French writers, of triumph to the French arms at Toulouse. A defeated general is seldom disposed to reject an armistice, when offered on honourable terms. Next they entirely dispel an error, into which even M. Brialmont has fallen, when he assures us that in refusing the armistice Lord Wellington was in- fluenced by feelings of personal indignation against Soult. Wel- lington never entertained towards any of the generals opposed to him, other sentiments than those of respect, unless, indeed, some acts of Vandalism, committed by the enemy's troops, appeared to have been sanctioned, or connived at by their commanders. He had no right to take personal offence on the present occasion, though he might be surprised at Soult's incredulity. His refusal to fall in with Soult's proposition originated in the same high sense of public duty, which was his leading principle of action through- out a long and busy life. Wellington's firmness prevailed. Before he could put his army in motion, a second despatch arrived from Soult, renewing the ap- plication for a suspension of hostilities, and promising submission to the government of Louis XVIIL This occurred on the 1 7th. On the 18th the armistice was signed; and on the following morning Soult sent in his formal adhesion to the new order of things. The same had been done by Suchet, so early as the 14th, though he con- trived to maintain, for a few days longer, a hostile attitude towards the Allies. And thus, after a struggle, which had extended over six years, the great war of the Spanish Peninsula came to an end. It would have been well, for the cause of humanity, had the same spirit of forbearance, which was exhibited on both sides, in and near Toulouse, manifested itself elsewhere. Sir John Hope, it u 290 MEMOIE OF THE DUKE OF WELLIXGTOX. 1814. will be remembered, with the left column of the allied army, maintained all this while the blockade of Bayonne ; and was prepared, as soon as his battering train came up, to convert the blockade into a siege. Greneral Thouvenot had long been driven within his works ; and on the side of the citadel, British posts were established within a few hundred yards of the glacis. To Hope Lord Wellington sent forward Colonel Cooke, who reached Bayonne in time to admit of a communication being made to Greneral Thouvenot, in the course of the 13th ; and to give circu- lation through the lines of the besiegers, that the war was at an end. Unfortunately the French governor saw no reason to treat General Hope's communication as trustworthy ; and at three o'clock in the morning of the 14th, he made a sortie in force. A fierce struggle ensued, which cost many valuable lives on both sides, and enabled the French to overturn a single gabion battery, and to carry off a few entrenching tools. Except to this extent, however, and that Sir John Hope fell into their hands, his horse being killed and himself wounded, the enemy gained nothing from an operation, which seems to have been entirely uncalled for. The troops engaged, after some desperate fighting, retired again within the citadel, and the very next day the terms of a truce were settled. These resulted as similar arrangements had done everywhere else, in the submission of the French troops to the government of Louis XVIIL " The campaign in France," says M. Brialmont, " put the seal to Wellington's glory, and brought conspicuously into light, not his military talents alone, but his political sagacity. With 70,000 Anglo-Portuguese he had done more in the south than the Allied Sovereigns were able to effect, with half a million of troops, upon the northern and eastern frontiers; and yet Soult's army was stronger, on the 18th of November, 1813, than that with which Napoleon fought the battle of Brienne. This simple statement suffices to establish the immeasurable superiority of Wellington's combinations over theirs. But there was a point in which he still more excelled ; namely, the moral influence which his generous conduct towards the P'rench people secured for him. While the Allies, in the north and east, oppressed the inhabitants, and left traces of their barbarous hatred even upon public documents, the hero of the Peninsula set an example in the south of France of unfailing respect to individuals and their property. Never have troops shown greater kindness to their fellow countrymen than the soldiers of Wellington exhibited towards a nation with which they were at war. This will always remain one of the loftiest titles to reno^vn of the British army and its illustrious chief." 1814. THE AEMY BREAKS UP. 291 CHAP. XXII. THE DtTKE IN PAEIS. — AT MADPJD. — IN ENGLAND. — EETIJRNS TO FRANCE. — THE DUKE IN VIENNA. — IN THE NETHEELANDS. — "WARLIKE PREPARATIONS. Of the course of events which preceded, elsewhere, the first abdi- cation of Napoleon, and the return of the princes of the house of Bourbon to France, we are 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 restoration of Louis XVIII. could complete them, ere Lord Wellington was urgently requested to transfer himself to Paris. The Allied Sovereigns were there, in delicate and difficult circumstances, and they desired to take counsel with the conqueror of the Peninsula. This invitation reached Lord Wellington through Viscount Castlereagh, who repre- sented the Prince Regent at the Congress ; and who on conveying it, announced to his correspondent, that he had been selected by the English Grovernment 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 rejoiced, 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 Government laid upon him, and made the necessary preparations for entering upon his new duties. To break up the fine army which he had so long commanded, and bid farewell to men who had served him so faithfully, was no agreeable task to a man of his temperament. He was proud of both officers and men, and in spite of the sternness which characterised many of his general orders, they were personally attached to him. But he habitually concealed his feelings ; and now sent back his Portuguese and Spanish troops to their respective countries, with as much apparent indifference, as if he had been putting them into winter quarters. The English were broken up in the same spirit ; U 2 292 MEMOIE OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1814. 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 customs levied in the south of France ; and was not without difficulty brought to understand that neither law nor policy justified the proceeding. Lord Wellington's firmness prevailed, and the obnoxious procla- mation 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 we 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 Bidart. 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 Fitzroy Somerset at a later stage in the journey. Lord Wellington reached Paris on the morning of the 4th of May. He proceeded, immediately after calling upon Lord Castle- reagh, to pa}^ his respects to the Allied Sovereigns, with whom, as well as with the French Government, he entered at once into con- fidential communication. They were anxious about many matters, but none gave them greater uneasiness than the general condition of Spanish affairs. These seemed to the congress to be in abso- lute confusion. Now, to no living man was Spain and the cha- racter of her people, better known than to Lord Wellington. He was, therefore, better able than any other to advise concerning them. Yet advice, however sound, offered from a distance, was not likely to carry much weight with it, under existing circum- stances. Lord Wellington therefore proposed, and the Allies gladly acceded to the proposal, that he should undertake a journey to Madrid ; and there, upon the spot, exercise such influence as he possessed, 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 Grovernment of Spain, during the late struggle, if Govern- ment it deserves, to be called, first by Juntas, and latterly by a Cortes and a Eegency, had never been cordially approved of by Ferdinand. He pledged himself, it is true, to maintain whenever he should be 1814. THE DUKE PROCEEDS TO MADRID. 293 restored to the throne, the privileges of the Cortes ; but he pro- bably 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 temporise. 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 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 reappear- ance 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 Eegent had raised him to the dignity of a dukedom, 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 journey to add to their numbers. He succeeded in staying the outbreak of a military revolt, which had been fully matured. The third and fourth Spanish armies, which he saw at Tarbe and Mandragon, were on the point of declaring for the Cortes ; when the appeal of their old commander to their loyalty as soldiers, restrained them. But 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 communi- cation with the King and his ministers, up to the 8th of June. The tone of his correspondence, 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 jNIajesty will certainly perform the promise made in his decree of the 4th of Ma}^, and will give a free constitution to Spain." " I told him " (the Due de San Carlos), he tj 3 294 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OP WELLINGTON 1814. 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 necessity alone had occasioned the violent measures which had attended the revolution, he could not expect much counte- nance in England. Nothing, however, has as yet been done, and I hear that nine more persons were imprisoned 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 reorganisation 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 large portion of it, still lingered at Tou- louse ; 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 Portsmouth in 1809. He had quitted the country a man generally looked up to, surrounded by the halo of Indian victories, a Lieutenant- General, and a KJnight of the Bath. He now returned laden with all the honours which a great soldier can acquire. A Field Marshal in each of the principal 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 difficulty he made his way through the crowds which thronged the pier at Dover, and clustered round him up to the door of his hotel ; and when, travelling post, he reached Westminster Bridge, the people took the horses from his carriage, and dragged him through the streets. He was thus conveyed 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 in England, which did not exceed six weeks, was one continued suc- cession of triumphs. In spite of the jiresence of the Allied 1814. THE DUKE IN LONDON. 295 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 Law. The Lord Mayor and all the corporate bodies of London feasted, and elected him to be a member of their several guilds. The Commons of England stood uncovered while the Speaker conveyed to him, in an address of consummate 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, collected, 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. Belgium 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 fortresses of Belgium had ceased to exist. The few that survived the re- forming propensities of the Emperor Joseph, Napoleon had dis- mantled ; 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 Meuse and the Sambre, to Namur and Charleroi, and thence by Mens 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, posi- tions where, 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 England, supported by the highest naval authorities, were urgent for the destruction of Ant- werp ; on the plea that Antwerp, in the hands of the French, must become, with its works entire, a standing menace to London. The V 4 296 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1814. Duke set himself against the adoption of views at once so illiberal and so short-sighted ; and his reasoning prevailed, much to the advantage of the Low Countries, and still more to the honoiu: of his own nation and Government. The Duke reached Paris on the 22nd of August, and remained there about five months. It was an interval devoted rather to endless details than to the arrangement of great plans, or the con- firmation of great principles. He had the battle of the abolition of the slave trade to fight ; and he fought it as gallantly as cir- cumstances would allow. Questions 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 Grovernment 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 virtvies 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 com- pletely ruined by the revolution, and they are now suffering so severely from the want of the plunder of the world, that they cannot go on without it ; and they cannot endure the prospect 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 to have dispensed a liberal hospitality to all who had a right to claim it. By this process many acquaintances were formed, and some friendships which lasted till the close of his life ; among the latter of which none deserves 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 office, 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 Avas presented by the gentle — we might almost say, the effeminate, — manner and turn of mind which characterised one of these gentlemen, to the frank, open, and manly temperament of the other. Yet such was the attachment which matured itself between them that, in after 1815. THE CONGEESS OP VIENNA. 297 years, when Loth had become widowers, they lived together till Mr. Arbuthnot died, at a very advanced age, in the apartments at Apsley House which the Duke made over to him. While the Duke was engaged with such affairs as these, a Con- gress of Sovereigns and ministers met in Vienna, to re-adjust certain articles in the treaty of Paris, and to explain others, of which the meaning seemed to be obscure. Lord Castlereagh, at the outset, represented England at this Congress, and to him belongs the merit or demerit, whichever it may be, of having assented, under protest, to the redistribution of territorial Europe. But the meet- ing of Parliament in January, 1815, rendered necessary his return to England ; and the Duke was summoned from Paris to supply his place. When he reached Vienna two great points, and only two, remained for discussion. Italy had been disposed of, so had the Low Countries, so had Norway, with many other states and provinces less extensive. Eussia now claimed to be put in posses- sion of the whole of Poland, and Prussia of the whole of Saxony. England resisted these demands, so did Austria ; and France being called upon to express an opinion gave it, through her minister, on the side of Austria and England. This proceeding greatly irritated the Emperor of Russia. He spoke of it as an act of un- paralleled ingratitude ; and entering into close relations with Eugene Bohernais, took ostentatiously under his protection Murat, king of Naples, the only one of Napoleon's satellites, whom the Allies had left in possession of a throne. At the same time the Russian armies, which were preparing to return to their own country, halted in Poland. Prussia refused to evacuate that por- tion of Saxony, of which the independence had been guaranteed, while England, Austria, and France contracted a secret treaty ; and Europe stood on the eve of disposing itself into two hostile camps. Things were in this state, with a constant tendency to become more uncomfortable ; for Murat was spreading himself over the Territories of the Church, and Austria, on the Duke's suggestions, was arming to restrain him ; when that series of extraordinary events befel, which directed, at once, the thoughts of kings and ministers from lesser subjects and fixed them upon a great common danger. On the 7th of March, the Duke received a letter from Lord Burgersh, announcing the fact that Napoleon had quitted Elba. Tidings arrived next day of the landing at Frijus ; and then there came a brief but terrible silence, which left men to con- jecture what they might. It did not last long. Wliile the French Government affected to make light of the danger, and spoke of the means at its disposal to destroy the invader, the invader held his course. It was soon made manifest that the Bourbons had no hokl 298 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OP WELLINGTON. 1815. upon France. The men whom they employed to protect betrayed them. Colonel Labodoyer first set the example at Grenoble, carry- ing- his regiment with him. Marshal Ney, doubly pledged to destroy, went over at Lyons to his old master, who, without shedding one drop of blood, without waiting to be either opposed or guarded by his ancient followers, entered Paris almost alone, and took quiet possession of the Tuileries. Thus, by the mere magic of his name, Napoleon regained the throne of France. He has left the statement on record, that the day which saw him pushing for the noble prize, and the night which testified to its acquisition, were the happiest of his life. But with the morning of the 21st, came time for reflection, and the necessity of looking the real nature of his position in the face. It was by no means satisfactory. The sceptre which he had grasped must be retained with the strong hand, and the war which he felt to be imminent entered upon with very inadequate means. For though the army was with him, it had been reduced, in the course of the previous year, to 223,972 men, of whom not more than 155,000 were effectives. The arsenals, likewise, were empty, and the manufacture of muskets having ceased, the difficulty of arming recruits, after he should have collected them, was enormous. Neither were the political circumstances, by which he was sur- rounded, much more encouraging. Almost all the able men whom, in the first instance, he invited to take office under him, declined to do so. Some, feeling that they had played the traitor's part often enough, were ashamed to be seen any more in public life ; others, distrusting the stability of the new order of things, preferred lying by to watch the event. And when, at length, he prevailed upon Cambacieres, Caulincourt, Maret, and Carnot to serve, it was by dint of compromises the nature and extent of which proved that his confidence in his own fortune was not what it used to be. The same disinclination for office which perplexed Napoleon in the arrangement of his government at Paris, operated to deter men of respectability and station from accepting under him com- missions in the provinces. To the great burst of enthusiasm there appeared to succeed an almost universal misgiving, and in various districts, particularly in Gruienne, Provence, Languedoc, and in the neighbourhood of Bordeaux, bands of Royalists took up arms. Indeed, partly through the force of proclamations, which the Allies busily circulated, partly because, when the crisis came, the boldest shrank from facing it, the tumultuous joy which had welcomed the adventurer on his arrival, seemed all at once to die out. More- over the spirit of faction was busy, as it usually is, when nations are either in a state of transition, or have become released from 1815. NAPOLEON'S PREPAEATIONS. 299 the wholesome restraints of authority ; and the Republicans, feeling themselves once more in the ascendant, played the Emperor's game only so far, as they believed it to be conducive to the ultimate triumph of their own principles. It remains for the historian to tell by what marvellous exertions Napoleon succeeded, within three short mouths, in placing France in an attitude of formidable defence. He addressed, indeed, pacific letters to all the crowned heads of Europe, and employed Murat to impress upon their representatives at Vienna, his anxiety to adhere to the treaty of Paris. But he never for a moment inter- mitted his preparations for war. Men came in almost more quickly than he could find the means of equipping them. Every soldier absent upon long furlough, every officer retired upon half-pay, as well as the prisoners restored by England and Russia, to the number of 100,000 and more, all veterans, hastened to present themselves at the depots, and took their places in his ranks. These, with fresh levies, made him master, before May was out, of little short of 400,000 men ; a prodigious force, which he calculated on being able to increase on or before the 1st of October, to 700,000. Nor was he negligent of other arrangements, scarcely less important, in his circumstances. Generals Haxo and Levy were directed to fortify Paris and Lyons ; the two points at which, in all probability, the fate of France would be decided. Fieldworks were constructed in the forest of Mormale, and in each of the passes of the Voge. Instructions went forth to guard the defiles of the Jura, and the whole frontier of the Alps ; while Soissons, Laon, La Fere, St. Quentin, Cruise, Chateau-Thierry, Vitrey, Langres, Chalons, Rheims, and Dijon, every stronghold, in short, which lay contiguous to the roads by which armies can move, were ordered to be repaired, armed, and rendered capable of offering a stout resistance to the invader. Meanwhile, the manufacture of small arms went on with such activity, and to such excellent purpose, that 4000 new muskets were daily handed over for the use of the troops. And lastly, horses were purchased, or otherwise procured, in numbers sufficient to render both the artillery and cavalry attached to this mighty mass, adequate and effective. While Napoleon thus prepared himself for his last desperate struggle, the Allies, taught by experience, acted promptly and with vigour. On the 13th of March came out the famous declaration by which they pledged themselves to maintain the Treaty of Paris ; and to support the King of France with all the means at their disposal. On the 25th a new treaty of alliance was signed ; and four days afterwai'ds the Duke, who had been of the greatest possible use, by advising on questions of military arrangement, set 300 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON". 1815. out, at the urgent entreaty of his colleagues, to assume the com- mand of the Anslo-Netherland forces in the Low Countries. A few words will suiBciently explain the state at which the preparations of the Allies in that quarter had arrived. At the termination of the war in 1814, the Ehine ceased to form one of the boundaries of France ; and the provinces on either bank, from Bengen to Cleves, were annexed to the Idngdom of Prussia. Belgium passed, at the same time, to Holland ; and out of the junction of these two states, the kingdom of the Netherlands arose. The Prussians, partly to establish their hold upon the new provinces, partly to observe France, marched about 30,000 men to the Ehine. The English left about 10,000 or 12,000, composed, in a great degree, of the remains of Sir Thomas Grraham's corps, in Belgium. These occupied the frontier fortresses, while the Prince of Orange was organising an army of Dutch Belgians in their rear. As soon as the return of Napoleon from Elba became known, Prussia hastened to strengthen her corps cVarmee on the Ehine ; while England sent every disposable man and horse to the Low Countries. It so happened, however, that the flower of the English army was either in America or at sea, and that the reduction of the militia had left the home garrisons to be provided for by such regular regiments as were not engaged elsewhere. The consequence was, that when the pressure came, the British Government had not, or believed itself not to have, a force disposable, at all com- mensurate to the obligations which had been contracted. In- stead of 150,000 troops, to which the treaty of the 25th of May bound her, or even 60,000, for which she became responsible by the previous Treaty of Paris, the Grovernment was unable to pro- vide 30,000 ; and, as usual in such cases, proceeded to compound, for lack of men, by an enormous expenditure of money. Besides dividing large subsidies among their Allies, the ministers took into British pay Dutch, Belgians, Hanoverians, Brunswickers, Nassau troops ; and on the Duke's suggestion, applied to the Portuguese Grovernment for the loan of a corps cVarwAe. It was a subject of extreme regret to the Duke that the Portuguese corps never reached him. Arriving at Brussels on the 5th of April, Wellington found everything, so far as concerned military preparations, in a very unsatisfactory state. Little or no progress had been made in restoring the dismantled fortresses ; and both the numbers and the composition of the army in the field were deplorable. Writing upon the latter subject to Lord Bathurst, on the 6th, he says, " Although I have given a favourable account of ours to Greneral , I cannot help thinking, from all accounts, that they are not (ijjeJ ' Jrf' ^ 1815. LETTER TO GENERAL KLEIST. 301 what they ought to be to maintain 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 effort must be made, if it is hoped that it shall be short. You 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 Chaumont, appears not to have been considered. If you could let me have 40,000 good British infantry, besides those you insist upon having in garrisons, the proportion settled by treaty you are to furnish of cavalry, that is to say, the eighth of 150,000 men, including in both the old Grerman 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 correspondent to whom the Duke of Wellington refers in this letter was the Prussian general Kleist, who, till the arrival of Marshal Blucher on the 17th of April, commanded the Prussian army in the Low Countries. He was desirous, in the event of Napoleon's advance, to retire behind Brussels ; but the Duke entirely deprecated the movement, and encouraged his ally to take a more cheerful view of the state of affairs by describing his own army as more effective than it really was. He says, " After allotting 13,400 men to garrison Mons, Ypres, Ostend, Nieuport, and Antwerp, I shall be able to muster about 23,000 English and Hanoverians, — good troops — of whom nearly 5000 are cavalry; with 20,000 Dutch-Belgians, of whom 2000 are cavalry. I shall have, also, about 60 pieces of cannon. I think that we ought to arrange for assembling the whole of the Prussian and Anglo-Dutch armies in front of Brussels ; and that, with this view, the troops under your Excellency's orders should lose no time in crossing the Mouse, and going into cantonments about Charleroi, Namur, and Liege." Happily for all concerned, Greneral Kleist yielded to the Duke's persuasions ; so that, on the arrival of Prince Blucher, the Prussian army was placed where it continued to remain till the strength of its position was tried. The months of April and May, with the first weeks in June, were spent by all parties in continued preparations. Napoleon laboured sixteen hours a day, and infused his own spirit into all who served under him. He stationed a corps of observation on each of the debouches by which France could be invaded : by the Upper Rhine, by the Jura, by the Alps, by the Eastern and the 802 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1815. Western Pyrenees, and by the Maritime Alps. He sent a force of 17,000 men into La Vendee, where an insurrection raged. He marked out a chain of redoubts, by which Paris was to be covered, and allotted a sufficient amount of National Guards to hold them. He filled the fortresses along the coast, and elsewhere, with veterans and raw levies. His own attention he turned mainly towards the Lower Ehine and the Belgian frontier, where it was manifest from the outset that the first blow would be struck. Five infantry corps, the whole of his reserve cavalry, and the Imperial Guard, were destined to act in that direction. This combination gave him a total force of 130,000 men, with 344 pieces of cannon. With the exception of the Guard, he early placed his fine army where it could manoeuvre in safety behind the fortresses. D'Erlon, with his corps, occupied Lille ; Eeille was at Valenciennes ; Vandamme, in and about Mesierez ; Gerard, in the neighbourhood of Metz ; Count Lobau established his head-quarters in Laon : and Grouchy, with four corps of cavalry, lay between the Aisne and the Sambre. The Imperial Guard alone lingered in Paris till the Emperor himself should be ready to take the field. And then he made his last appeal to the world for peace. It was not even answered. All this while the Allies were forming their columns for the execution of the plan of campaign which they had determined to pursue. The Bavarians, the Wurtembergians, and the troops of Baden, collected in the Black Forest, The Austrians made a move to join them there. The Eussians marched through Franconia and Saxony. These several armies were to come, as soon as pos- sible, into communication with each other, and with the Prussians on the Lower Ehine ; and then, and not till then, the whole were to penetrate into France. To effect this vast purpose, however, and afterwards to move 600,000 or 700,000 men by concentric lines upon Paris, must, of necessity, be a work of time. Now time was everything to Napoleon. As yet he had his enemies at somewhat of a disadvantage. If he could overthrow one portion of their enormous army before the others reached their proper ground, he might paralyse for a while the energies of the whole. If he could succeed in eliciting some strong demonstration in his own favour from any of the provinces now kept down by the Allies, it was on the cards that the Grand Alliance might be broken up. These considerations greatly overbalanced with him whatever advantages might possibly attend the adoption of a purely defensive system of warfare. Besides, the French are better adapted, by natural temperament, for aggressive than for defensive operations. He determined, therefore, to assume the initiative ; and striking at 1815. THE DUKES AERANGEMENTS. 'M3 Blucher and Wellington, and beating them in detail, to gather round him the resources of Belgium and the Ehenish pro- vinces, in both of which he well knew that he had many zealous partisans. It never escaped the notice of the Duke that such might, and probably would be, the policy of the French Emperor. Neither did he overlook the fact that the Emperor, covered by the for- tresses in his front, could choose his own line of approach, and hide it to the last moment. Now there were three lines open, more or less, to the advance of the enemy into Belgium. They might attack by the Meuse, and cut off the Prussians from their base ; they might attack by Mons, and force back the English upon Antwerp ; or they might attack by the valley of the Sambre, throw themselves between the Prussian and English armies, and cut them in twain. The Duke has been blamed by military historians of all nations for accepting, and adhering to the impression that the last, at all events, would not be Napoleon's choice. It is not for us to defend a great commander. And he has taken the trouble, in a written memoir, to defend himself ; but one fact appears to have escaped the notice of his many critics. The enemy, it was well known, had taken steps to render the road between Mesierez and Charleroi impassable ; and it could scarcely be imagined that this would be done if they meditated more than defensive operations in that quarter. But though the Duke considered that the line of the Sambre was the least favourable which Napoleon could follow, it is not the fact that he entirely neglected it. The arrangements entered into between Blucher and himself provided for all contingencies, so far as was compatible with the care of other matters, not one of which could be neglected without imminent risk to the common cause. And the possible, though not very probable, contingency of an advance from Mauberge upon Charleroi was guarded against. The Prussians lay between Charleroi and Liege, occupying Namur and Denant. They thus protected the course of the Sambre throughout. The English, more widely diffused, had their right near Ath, and their left at Braine-le-Comte and Nivelle. The mass of their cavalry was at Grammont, and the reserves of all arms in and around Brussels. But this was not all. It was necessary to keep open the communications of the British army with England and Holland, as well as with Germany : with Holland through Antwerp, with England through the towns on the Lysse and through Ostend. And Ghent, to which the exiled royal family of France had retired, must also be protected. In each of these towns, as well as in Nieuport, Ath, Tournay, and Mons, garrisons were placed; while the old fortresses of Menin 304 MEMOIR OP THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1815. and Courtrai underwent repair, and Audenard was put in a defen- sible state. Undoubtedly such a disposition as this rendered almost inevitable the exposing of some point to danger, whenever the campaign should open. But to have drawn in the detached corps, and connected them more closely with the Prussians before the enemy's plans were developed, must have been attended by the greatest possible hazard. We speak, of course, of the condition at which affairs had arrived towards the end of May and the beginning of June. Prior to that date, it had more than once occurred to the Duke that the Allies might advantageously assume the offen- sive ; and had the Austrians and Kussians been in a more forward condition, the offensive would have been probably assumed. But from the moment it became evident that the Anglo-Prussians must maintain a purely defensive attitude, their course of action was clear. " They had the option," says the Duke, in his memorandum, " of taking the initiative in the way of defensive movement ; but such defensive movement, or alteration of the well-considered positions taken up by each of the Allied armies, must have been founded in a conviction that such positions were faulty, and might be improved; or upon a hypothesis of the intended movements of attack by the enemy. There was no reason to believe that the first was the case ; and it must never be lost sight of that to found upon a hypothesis, which might and probably would prove erroneous, considering what the advantages were of the position of the enemy on the frontier, the alteration of the defensive position of the Allied armies, might have occasioned what is commonly called a false movement ; and it must be observed that whatever may be thought of Bonaparte as a leader of troops, in other respects there never existed a man, in that situation, in any times, in whose presence it was so little safe to make what is called a false move- ment." Satisfied with the results of such reasoning, the Duke, having once placed his divisions, kept them to the last moment, undis- turbed in the positions which he had chosen for them. He busied himself, however, all the while, and employed large numbers of the population of Belgium upon the defences, natural and artificial, of the country. Besides clearing out ditches, and rebuilding ramparts, he caused sluices to be cut, by means of which the plains round the principal fortresses might be flooded. Field works were thrown up likewise on all the great roads, not with a view to hinder the enemy from invading Belgium, for that was impossible, but in order to delay them on the march, and to afford time for the Anglo-Netherland army to assemble. His correspondence also with his own Grovernment, with the French Princes, and with the 1815. STATE OF BRUSSELS. 305 Allied Sovereigns and generals, was incessant ; and be had the old care, therefore, upon him of defending his own character against the attacks of the opposition in Parliament. For with the renewal of war, broke out again those party grudges and antipathies, which the glories of 1814 had covered over, not extinguished. He was accused, in the House of Commons, of consigning Napoleon to the dagger of the assassin, because he had affixed his signature to the proclamation which declared that individual to be " hors de loV He noticed and set this idle calumny aside, in a letter to Mr. Wel- lesley Pole, written at Brussels on the 5th of May. This gave him comparatively little concern. He was much more seriously affected, and with better reason, by the backwardness of his own friends, in supplying him, as they ought to have done, with men and guns. He had asked for 40,000 British infantry, 15,000 British cavalry, and 150 British guns. He never received more than 23,543 British infantry, composed chiej3y of second battalions, and 3304 good troops of the old Grerman legion. His cavalry, including 1991 belonging to the same Grerman legion, scarcely reached 8000 ; his guns, British and Grerman together, were exactly 96. His total force amounted, indeed, to 105,000 men, including 12,402 cavalry, and 156 pieces of cannon; but it was composed of the troops of various nations, many of them militia, the rest mere recruits ; and out of this total he was forced to spare 26,700 to garrison the principal fortresses. Still he put, as was his custom, the best face on affairs, and sustained by so doing, the courage of others, more prone than himself to despond. In the midst of so much warlike hubbub the state of Brussels was very curious. Crowds of English visitors thronged it, among whom all the amenities of polished society went forward : and into these the Duke threw himself with as much abandon as if no weightier care than the pursuit of amusement had rested upon him. Indeed, it formed one of the marked peculiarities of his character, that no amount of business, be it ever so grave in itself, or important in its consequences, appeared to engross him. He neglected nothing which required attention, yet he had always time at his command. Eising early he often completed his cor- respondence before the generality of busy men began theirs. No amount of bodily fatigue seemed to tell upon him ; and sleep literally came to refresh him at his bidding. The consequence was^ that while the great machine of state was kept in sound working order, not one of the lesser wheels stood still, the movements of which hinder society from becoming stagnant. But events were hastening rapidly to a crisis. There was no lack of intelligence, either in Brussels or in Paris, X 306 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1815. with respect to what was in progress, on either side of the frontier. Napoleon's friends in Belgium, and he had many, kept him well informed respecting the preparations of the Allies. The Duke's agents, among whom Fouche was one, communicated with him regularly respecting the Emperor's sayings and doings. So early as the 9th of May the Duke was able to write to the Due de Berriin these words: — "I have reason to believe that the enemy's force now assembled at Valenciennes and Maubeuge, is much greater than has been represented to your Eoyal Highness, and I should not be surprised if we were attacked." And on the 7th of June, his instructions to the governors of the Belgian fortresses, began thus : — "As soon as the enemy shall have entered the territories of the Low Countries, the under-named places ought to be put in a state of siege." To say of a general, thus alive to all that was passing within the enemy's lines, that he 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 develop 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 Jime, 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 spoke 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-player, in this respect, that ever handled men. 1815. THE DISPOSITION OF HIS AEMY. 307 CHAP. XXIII. DISPOSITIONS OP THE ALLIED AHMIES. — BATTLES OP LIGNT AND QTTATEE BKAS. — EETKEAT OP THE ENGLISH TO WATERLOO. — BATTLE OP WATERLOO. It was now the 15th of June. The Prussian army lay, as we have described, along the left bank of the Sambre, General Ziethen's corps being on the right, and communicating from Charleroi with the left of the English, while Greneral Bulow at Liege, held the extreme left. Between these two points, were the corps of Pirch and Thielman, the former at Namur, the latter at Ciney. It was arranged that, in case of attack, a general movement should be made towards the right ; and a position taken up between Grosselies and Fleurus ; while Wellington, inclining to his left, was to come into communication with Blucher, by the Quatre-Bras road. If, on the other hand, the attack should fall on the English right, English and Prussians were to concentrate at Waterloo, the country round which the Duke had carefully surveyed. For the reasons already stated, however, viz., that the roads from the French frontier to Brussels, by the valley of the Sambre and the Meuse, had been broken up, the Duke still adhered to his belief, that through the approaches by the valleys of the Scheldt and the Dender, the storm would burst. He paid particular attention, therefore, to the defences of Grhent, and kept, to the last moment, a strong corps in observation at Hall, under Prince Ferdinand of the Nether- lands. The 15th passed at Brussels in perfect quiet. Intelligence came in, no doubt, from Charleroi, at seven that morning, that the fires of numerous bivouacs were seen the previous night, to blaze up suddenly, and that in the morning the outposts at Lobbes and Thuin, had been attacked. But as no further tidings followed, the Duke naturally assumed that this was a feint to cover some more serious operation : and except by issuing orders that all the divisions should be ready to march at a moment's notice, he took no special notice of the circumstance. There was to be a great ball on the night of the 15th, at the lodgings of the Duchess of Richmond ; and the Prince of Orange came in from Braine-le-Comte to dine with the Duke, intend- X 2 308 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1815. ing to be present at the ball afterwards. He arrived about three in the afternoon, and reported, that the Prussians had been warmly engaged in and about Charleroi. It was th'S first intima- tion of that important fact which the Duke had received, and while he yet hesitated whether to accept it as authentic, Greneral Muffling, the Prussian Commissioner at the English head-quarters, entered and confirmed the statement. An orderly dragoon, it appeared, whom General Ziethen had early dispatched to announce to him the commencement of hostilities, lost his way ; and but for the delivery of despatches from Prince Blucher to Greneral Muffling, it is impossible to guess when the true state of the case might have been communicated to the Duke of Wellington. Calm, and even gentle, whenever dangers gathered round him, the Duke impressed upon his guests the necessity of keeping what they knew to themselves. He advised them to go, as they had previously intended, to the Duchess's ball, and himself made ready to accompany them. Before sitting do^vn 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 evening and in the night, each division, and portion of a division, separately ; the whole being protected on the march by the defen- sive works constructed at the different points referred to, and by their garrisons." * These orders, issued between four and five in the afternoon, di- rected only the outlying divisions of the two advanced corps, com- manded respectively by the Prince of Orange and Sir Eowland Hill, to shift their ground. All the rest were instructed merely to assemble and to be in readiness. At ten the same night, however, the enemy's movements had sufficiently 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. Mean- while in Brussels itself no signs of agitation or alarm were mani- fested. The reserve stood to its arms after night-fall, in the park, and the saloons of the Duchess of Eichmond 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 marching, the clatter of horses' hoofs, and the roll of artillery. The reserve 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. * Memorandum in the Duke's handwritina:. 1815. N-APOLEON S ADVANCE. 309 'WTiile these things went on in and about Brussels, Napoleon was following up, with less, perhaps, than his ancient vigour, the masterly stroke with which he opened this memorable campaign. He had moved nine corps of infantry and cavalry from various points between Lisle and Metz, with such cousummate skill, and ordered their marches so accurately, that they arrived in front of Charleroi, as it were, together, just as the Gruard, which set out to meet them from Paris, reached the same ground. The right of this mass, about 16,000 strong, lay, on the 14th, under the command of Greneral Gerard, at Philippeville. The centre, 60,000, with Napo- leon himself, bivouacked in and about Beaumont, the left, about 45,000, at Ham-sur-Eur and Salu-sur-Sambre. Reille's corps, which occupied Ham-sur-Eur, received instructions to cross the Sambre at Marchiennes ; D'Erlon's, from Salu-sur-Sambre, was to take the same direction. The centre, or main body, with the cavalry reserves, under Grrouchy, was to pass the Sambre at Charle- roi, and the right at Chatelet. The Emperor expected that these different operations would be completed by noon on the 15th. But either because his orders were not properly delivered, or through some mistake on the part of G-enerals Vandamme and Gferard, the march of the columns on Charleroi was delayed ; and the impor- tant strategic points of Sombreffe and Quatre-Bras could not be seized in time. Information of the enemy's movements reached Prince Blucher on the evening of the 14th. He issued immediate orders for the concentration of his army in rear of Fleurus, a jDoint too near to the enemy, as matters then stood, and too remote from his own left. The troops were soon in motion : but before the more dis- tant portions of them could compass half the space, the outposts at Thuin and Lobbes were attacked, and, after a brave resistance, driven in. In Charleroi itself, Greneral Ziethen maintained him- self with determined obstinacy. But against the odds which assailed him he could effect nothing more than to gain some hours which were of incalculable value, for they enabled Priuce Blucher to collect, about two o'clock in the morning of the 16th, three out of his four corps between Bry and Tongrenne. Napoleon, on the other hand, seems to have halted, just when it was important that he should press on. There was ample time, during the 15th, to meet the Prussian corps on the march, and beat them in detail. But having come to the conclusion that Blucher would concen- trate, not towards Fleurus but towards Namur, he held his own troops in hand, and omitted to push as he ought to have done upon Sombreffe. About eleven in the morning of the 16th, Napoleon reconnoitred X 8 310 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1815. the Prussian position. It extended from St. Amand to SombrefFe, having its front covered by a ravine through which ran the little stream of the Ligny. There was not one advantageous feature in it. The right was in the air, and the front so covered with ob- stacles, that the Prussian cavalry, both numerous and good, could not act. Blucher took up this ground under the persuasion that it was necessary, at all risks, to keep open his communications with the Anglo-Netherlanders at Quatre-Bras *, which post was held by the corps of the Prince of Orange, amounting to 6832 men and 16 guns. On the other hand. Napoleon perfectly understood the importance of possessing himself of this strategic point. He there- fore directed against it two corps under Ney, which, had they not blundered on the march, ought to have achieved a great success ; but which both now and subsequently contrived, in part at least, to oscillate between the two fields of battle, and to be unserviceable on either. Whatever the defects of Blucher's position might be. Napoleon's unaccountable hesitation enabled him to collect upon it 80,000 men. He was too ambitious in the distribution of this force. The village of St. Amand being defensible in itself he would not relinquish, though its position was too much in advance to be of any material service to him. He placed his battalions, likewise, along the outer slope of his own hills, and exposed them thereby to the fire of the enemy's cannon. All this Napoleon saw, when at length he came to understand that the main body of the Prussian army was in his front. He saw, likewise, that the strategic point of attack was the Prussian right, by breakiDg which he could separate effectually Blucher from Wellington. Yet instead of throwing his masses there, and contenting himself with demonstrations upon the centre and the left, he resolved to make two of his three attacks, that on the centre, as well as that on the right, real. The plan was, in itself, masterly, assuming the assailants to be greatly superior in numbers, because, from the overthrow of both right and centre, the Prussians could have hardly recovered. But considering that he had to deal with a force, little, if at all, inferior to his own, it depended for its accomplishment too much upon the moral supe- riority of French over Prussian troops. It deserved, therefore, to fail. All this while the Duke of Wellington was moving his divisions to the front. The reserve set out from Brussels at an early hour on the 16th, halting for a brief space at Waterloo, and then push- ing forward through Genappe. It was passed on the road by the * It would have been better for him had he withdrawn more to the rear, and placed himself in line, as it were, with the Prince of Orange. 1815. THE ENGLISH MOVE ON QUATRE BRAS. 311 Duke himself, who, attended by most of his staff, arrived at Quatre- Bras a little before noon. He found that the Prince of Orange's corps had been already engaged, but not seriously. Its picquets were driven in, and large masses of the enemy seemed to be col- lecting in its front. He suggested a few trifling changes of dispo- sition, and then rode over to confer with Prince Blucher. He was not satisfied with the Prussian position, or with the manner in which it had been occupied; and, being appealed to, he said so, — though as, was usual with him, in terms calculated neither to wound nor to give offence. But as he cantered back, by and by, to Quatre- Bras, he expressed himself more emphatically to his personal attendants, " If I don't mistake, and Bonaparte be what I suppose he is, the Prussians will get a terrible beating to-day." He had also satisfied himself that his original plan of supporting the Prus- sians by an attack from Frasne and Gosselies on the enemy's rear was now impracticable. It was, therefore, arranged between him- self and Blucher that the two armies should communicate by the Namur road ; and upon Quatre-Bras the various masses of Anglo- Netherlands troops were accordingly directed to march. In pursuance of the instructions which he had received. Marshal Ney, with his own corps, about 17,000 men, and 38 guns, fell with great fury upon the Prince of Orange, and forced him to give ground. This was about half-past one in the day; and had D'Erlon's corps, which ought to have supported Ney, been at hand, very serious consequences must have ensued. But Napoleon had already stopped D'Erlon's corps on the march ; and one by one divisions of Anglo-Netherlanders arrived to sustain the Prince of Orange in his unequal combat. Wellington was likewise on the ground, cheering, sustaining, and directiog the troops in the fight. Hence the battle, which had at first gone favourably for the French, began to turn ; and the enemy were forced back from the Namur road, which they had won, and could with difficulty maintain them- selves in the wood of Bossie and in the valley of Gemoncourt. The battle of Quatre-Bras, which began about half-past one, continued, with frequent interruptions, till seven in the evening. It consisted of a succession of attacks by the French : now with artillery and infantry, — now with artillery and cavalry, — now with a combination of the three arms ; all, at the outset, attended by more or less of success. But the resistance offered proved so stout that time was afforded for the arrival of one reinforcement after another, till, in the end, the Anglo-Netherlanders greatly out- numbered the French, and, in their turn, became the assailants. They not only recovered all the ground that had been lost in the early part of the day, but were considerably in advance of it when X 4 512 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1815. the firing ceased. Meanwhile Napoleon was fiercely engaged with Blucher's army. He made his first forward movement about half- past two, from which hour till dark the battle raged with extreme fury. It was not, on his part, a skilfully managed operation. The force which he threw upon the Prussian right proved inadequate to bear it down. He seemed more intent on breaking the Prussian centre than on the accomplishment of what ought to have been his main object, the separation of the Prussian and English armies. The village of St. Amand was taken and retaken repeatedly. So was the little hamlet of Ligny, more towards the Prussian left ; but not till late in the day were masses hurled at either point of weight enough to carry all before them. And here we come upon a variety of incidents, round which such a cloud of mystery is throAvn as to render all attempt at explanation hopeless. Ney is struggling at Quatre-Bras to gain the command of the Grenappe road, and hopes, supported by D'Erlon, to push back the English to the Forest of Soigne. D'Erlon, who had been instructed to act with his corps under Key's orders, is half-way between Grosselies and Quatre-Bras, when he is suddenly directed by a staff officer, who overtakes him on the march, to retrace his steps. He counter- marches, and is far on his way back, when Ney dispatches an aide- de-camp in hot haste, requiring him to return immediately, and co-operate with him. Thus oscillating, so to speak, between the two portions of the army, he not only keeps 25,000 or 30,000 men idle all day long, but he causes needless alarm among his own friends, and even paralyses, for a moment, one of the Emperor's grand movements. For at half-past five Napoleon was preparing to strike a decisive blow at Ligny, when Vandamme, who commanded in front of St. Amand, sent to inform him that a body of troops, apparently about 30,000, were beginning to show themselves on his left. "That corps," says Napoleon, in his journal, " was sup- posed, at first, to be the column which had been detached to the left ; " * but besides that it was much stronger, it approached by a different road. Gerard's division hesitating, under the persuasion that it was an enemy's column which showed itself. Napoleon sus- pended the movement of the Gruard upon Ligny, and sent off a general officer to ascertain what the truth of the case really was. A full hour of precious time was thus lost ; for it was half-past six before the officer returned to report that not the English, but D'Erlon's corps, had made its appearance, and was preparing to participate in the grand attack upon St. Amand. * A single division, less than 5000 men, -witli which he made a demonstration, ■when he ought to have attacked Blucher's extreme riglit in force. 1815. PEUSSIANS EETKEAT, 313 There was extraordinary blundering in all this ; nor were the tactics of the Prussian general much more fortunate. Blucher, observing that the troops which had heretofore threatened his right were withdrawn, came to the conclusion that the enemy was about to retreat ; and in order to press him, marched all his disposable battalions and squadrons in that direction. He thus left his centre without any reserve, just as Napoleon had completed his prepara- tions for assailing it ; and the result was, that it suffered a complete defeat. The French carried Ligny, pushed on beyond it, met and overthrew the handful of cavalry which endeavoured to stop them, — Blucher himself being unhorsed in the melee — and fairly cut the Prussian corps in twain. Had daylight lasted a little longer, Blucher must have been destroyed. But the latter part of the combat was waged under the cover of night ; and the victors were compelled to halt on the ground which they had won, while tlie vanquished gathered themselves together, as well as they could, and began at early dawn an orderly and well-managed retreat. So passed the 16th of June, an eventful day to all who lived through it. Though the English had not only kept their own ground, but gained ground upon the enemy, the general issues of the combat, even where they fought, were, upon the whole, favour- able to the French. There was no active co-operation, and there could be none, between the Anglo-Netheiianders and the Prussians. With respect to the Prussians, they came out losers from one of the sternest battles of modern times. Defeated, it can hardly be said that they were ; but beyond all question, they suffered a reverse. It was, however, so little decisive that it neither hindered the Allies from settling a new plan of operations nor prevented them from taking measures for carrying it into effect. It had been arranged long ago that, in the event of one or other of the armies suffering a reverse, both should fall back, and unite at Mont St. Jean. The Duke, who throughout the 16th had observed, with his glass, the progress of the battle of Ligny, did not consider it necessary, in consequence of the rout of the Prussian cavalry, to change his ground. He remained that night at Quatre-Bras, re- ceiving from time to time details of what was going on, yet knowing nothing, exactly, as to Blucher's future intentions. At daybreak on the 17th, he sent a cavalry patrol to reconnoitre, which returned, after a while, and told that not a Prussian could be seen. Not satisfied with this, he dispatched his aide-de-camp. Colonel Grordon, with a strong escort, to inquire farther, and was in due time informed of all that had taken place. General Ziethen, with his corps, forming the rear guard of the Prussian army, had seen and conversed with Gordon. Gordon learned from him by 314 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1815. what route the Prussians were retiring; and an assurance was given that the English, if they acted in the spirit of the original agreement, should not be left at Mont St. Jean to fight alone. With this intelligence, he immediately returned to the English head-quarters, where, for some hours afterwards, all remained quiet. An hour before daybreak on the I7th, the French troops stood to their arms. Officers and men alike expected orders for an immediate movement ; but the dawn came in, and the sun arose, and yet neither was the Emperor on the ground nor did any com- munication emanate from him. At last, between eight and nine o'clock. Napoleon, who had slept at Fleurus, arrived in his carriage at St. Amand. He there mounted his horse, and rode over the field of yesterday's battle, speaking to those about him, sometimes of the battle itself, sometimes of its probable effect upon public opinion in Paris. It is impossible to account for this. Though victorious over the Prussians, he had still the English to deal with ; and of these, including troops of the Netherlands, Hanoverians, and Brunswickers, 50,000, at least, were in his immediate front. Why he did not direct against them the bulk of his magnificent army, as soon as he saw that the position of Ligny had been abandoned, it is impossible to say. The facts, however, are as we have stated them. He spent two full hours in the merest gossip ; and then, and not till then, addressed himself to business. Grouchy, with 34,000 men and 96 guns, was instructed to keep the Prussians in view, and never to leave them. He took, as is well known, a wrong road, and thus failed to overtake them, till they halted in Wavre. JNIeanwhile Ney, who still faced the Anglo- Netherlanders, was instructed to attack, and assured that the rest of the army would be put in motion to support him. This was about noon ; but for some reason or another, which has never been assigned, no movement took place till between three and four o'clock. Long before that time the Duke had arranged and car- ried into effect his own designs. About three he began his retreat, keeping, however, his pickets of infantry, with his cavalry and horse artillery, at their posts, and withdrawing them only when the enemy's skirmishers touched the advanced sentries. The retreat from Quatre-Bras to Waterloo was conducted in the most perfect order. The mass of the troops, including all the in- fantry and foot artillery, took up their ground without having been called upon to fire a shot. The cavalry had but one affair with the enemy, in which the French suffered severely outside the town of Gfenappe. But the retreat was attended with some inconve- nience, too. It began under a canopy of heavy clouds, which the 1815. RETEOGRESSION TO WATEELOO. 315 fire of the horse artillery broke, and then the rain came down in torrents. Both parties sustained discomfort from this : the French alone were damaged by it. The fields and by-paths soon became impassable for wheel-carriages, and even cavalry could act only along the causeways. The consequence was, that while the English, having but a short way to travel, carried guns, waggons, and all the appliances of an army in good case, into position, the march of the French was much retarded ; and they arrived in presence of their enemy too late to attempt anything that day. Indeed por- tions of their corps were at work all night, bringing up ammuni- tion and even cannon, which came in but slowly, and were still out of gear for action, long after the dawn of the 18th broke upon them. The position which the Duke of Wellington 'had taken up crosses the great roads from Charleroi and Nivelle to Brussels. His right was thrown back behind a ravine near Merbes-Braine, and his left extended as far as the Chateau of Frichermont, upon the high ground above La Haye. Detachments guarded the heights of Merbes-Braine, La Haye, and Smohain, as well as the farm of Papelotte, the buildings and gardens of the Chateau de Hougo- mont, a little in advance of the right centre near the Nivelle road ; and the farm of La Haie-Sainte upon the Grenappe or Charle- roi road, which was thus converted into a post in front of the left centre. Greneral Chasse's Dutch division and D'Aubreme's brigade occupied the environs of Braine-l'Aleud on the extreme right. Wellington had divided his army into three corps. That on the right was under the orders of Hill ; that in the centre was in charge of the Prince of Orange ; that on the left had Picton at its head. Lord Uxbridge, afterwards Marquis of Anglesey, commanded the cavalry. The amount of force thus brought together was, of in- fantry, 49,000, of cavalry, 12,462, of artillery, 156 guns, making a grand total of 69,655 men, of whom under 22,000 were British troops. It is evident from the disposition which he made of his force, that the Duke was jealous, to the last, of his right. Ignorant of the fact that Grouchy had been detached, he believed that the whole of the French army was before him, and anticipated the movement of a portion of it by Hal upon Grhent. To counteract this he stationed Prince Frederick of the Netherlands at Hal with 17,500 men, while at the same time he wrote, on the morning of the 18th, to the Due de Berri, begging, in the event of such a movement being made, that his Eoyal Highness would advise the French court to remove to Antwerp, by the left bank of the Scheldt. Now, according to all the rules of war, Napoleon was 316 MEMOIE OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1815. bound to direct his principal attack upon the English left. Had he done so, and succeeded, the promised junction of Blucher with Wellington would have been rendered impossible. Whereas by attacking on the right, success must have rendered certain and easy, a movement, which when attempted from the left, could not fail to be both tedious and difficult. It is surprising that the Duke's judgment, usually so clear, should have erred in this matter. But more surprising still is the fact, that in this battle Napoleon did waste his strength on the right of the English line, when every consideration of policy as well as every principle of tactics invited him to make his great attempt on the left. The Duke slept in the night between the 17th and 18th, in a house in the village of Waterloo. He was up at two in the morn- ing ; and after shaving and dressing with his usual care, sat down, by the light of a couple of candles, to his desk. He wrote cheer- fully to Sir Charles Stuart, then the English minister at Brussels : " 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, as we have just shown, to the Due de Berri at Grhent, concluding his letter in these re- markable words : " I hope, and indeed have every reason to believe, that all will turn out well." And he gave orders to the governor 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 which 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 conversation never showed, — that he entertained graver apprehensions of the issues of the coming battle, than of any other in which he had been pre- viously engaged. Yet the spectacle 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 71,947 French troops, all men of one nation, all accustomed to war, and all im- bued 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, however, 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 change. But about ten o'clock the drums and trumpets spoke out ; and promptly, but with perfect deliberation, columns of at- 1815, BATTLE OF WATERLOO. 317 tack were formed.* There was no mistaking the object of this formation. Clouds of skirmishers soon ran out; and the battle began. It is not necessary to narrate in detail the progress of a struggle which is better known, and has been, perhaps, more frequently and accurately described, than any decisive action of modern times. It began by a furious attack on Hougomont, of which the enclo- sures were taken and retaken more than once, though the chateau remained throughout in possession of the English Guards. This was followed by an attempt to break through the English centre, in which cavalry and infantry both took part ; both being covered in the advance by a murderous fire of artillery. It failed, was renewed, and failed again, though on the last occasion the farm of La Haie-Sainte fell into the hands of the assailants. By and by a howitzer battery opened upon Hougomont, which soon took fire, yet the Gruards clung to the mansion tenaciously, and fought and conquered amid the flames. It was now one o'clock in the day, and some horsemen whom the Duke had seen early in the morning on the heights in front of Ohain, became visible also to the enemy. The Duke having received more than one commu- nication from Blucher during the night, was prepared for this ajsparition, and for more. Not so Napoleon. He persuaded him- self, up to the last moment, that the retreat of the Prussians had been towards the Meuse, and so manifest a testimony to the re- verse, surprised as well as alarmed him. He caused Soult, the chief of his staff, to despatch a special messenger to Grouchy, with peremptory orders to close in towards Mont St. Jean, and to fall upon the Prussians on their march. The officer intrusted with these despatches loitered by the way ; for he did not reach Grouchy's head-quarters in front of Wavre till six in the evening. It was then too late. In spite of the obstacles presented by bad roads and thickets, through which with difficulty men could force their way, Bulow's corps, which Blucher had early detached, pressed on. Zeithen followed, by a different route ; and before Grouchy could interpose, both were ready to debouch upon the field of battle. The advance of Bulow's corps, which was the first to show itself, could not be other than slow. It had narrow defiles to thread, and might have been stopped by one third of its numbers, had the mouths of these defiles been properly barred. Napoleon de- tached first some cavalry, and, by and by, the 6th corps to effect this * It is worthy of note, that the date of the commeucement of this great battle has never been accurately fixed. 318 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1815. object ; but the cavalry halting too soon, left the road open, and through it the Prussians made their way. About five in the after- noon their guns opened; and from that hour till dusk, they continued to gain ground. They poured in numbers, which grew constantly greater, into Planchenoit ; they fought for the churchyard, for the church, for the houses. It was evident to Napoleon that there remained for him no alternative now, except success against the English, or total destruction, and he made his last desperate effort to ensure the former. There was a simultaneous advance, about seven in the evening, on the left, and left centre of the English line, by all that re- mained of Ney's corps, and of the old guard. It was unskilfully managed, the whole of the reserve cavalry being thrown into it, — and it failed. For a moment, so to speak, the English guns, on the left centre of the position, were in possession of the French horse- men, who rode shouting and threatening round infantry squares, which never moved; but a contest such as this could not last long. The fire of the squares shivered the squadrons, which, being charged home, while in confusion, by the English cavalry, went down the slope headlong. Meanwhile a column of the old guard forced its way, within a few yards of the crest of the hill, on the right. It was pounded with grape and canister, as it came on, charged by the guards in front ; overlapped and riddled by Colburn's brigade in flank, and fairly broken. And now, Wellington perceiving that the Prussians were at work, let loose his men at last, and the whole line moved forward. Nothing could withstand that steady and stern advance. Some French masses broke and fled ; others perished were they stood. The Prussian cavalry swept in from the right ; the English rode through squares, and upset squadrons all along the front. It was a scene of the direst and most irreparable confusion. Seeing that all was lost, Napoleon turned his horse and galloped from the field ; his troops, such of them as remained, threw away their arms, and disbanded themselves. The hostile armies brought into line, on this memorable day, were, so far as numbers are concerned, pretty equally matched. Under shelter of his own range of heights, Wellington drew up, at early morning of the 18th of June, the amount of force else- where given. It was, so far as concerned composition and morale, the worst army he ever commanded. His English infantry con- sisted, for the most part, of raw second battalions. His foreign troops were strangers, one corps to another, without community of drill, or even of language, and many of them militia. He could not trust the latter in case they should be pressed. He did not, therefore, venture to bring many of them into his first line. Of 1815. EELATIVE STREN'OTH OF THE ARMIES. 319 the rest, some behaved well ; but others broke and fled as soon as seriously attacked. His cavalry and artillery were better. No troops could exceed the British horsemen in dash, or the British artillery in skill and coolness. But take it for all in all, the army which conquered at Waterloo, must be acknowledged to have been such, as he described it, " the worst army ever brought together," and the staff, with some noble exceptions, a body of " young gentle- men, to whom he could intrust no details." Of Napoleon's army we have spoken elsewhere. Little, if at all, superior in mere numbers, it far surpassed in equipment, in discipline, in everything which tends to render an armed force formidable, the ill-assorted body which then faced it. The men were all of one nation, well drilled, and accustomed to act together. They were led on b}'- officers whom they knew and respected, chiefs cradled in war, and habituated to victory. Their horsemen outnumbered those of the Allies ; their artillery went beyond that which was opposed to it, by a hundred pieces. Why did they not drive before them the motley crew which ventured to dispute with them the palm of victory? Historians have endeavoured to account for the fact in various ways. Napoleon, it is alleged, lost precious hours at the beginning of the day, which could never afterwards be recovered. Believing the Prussians to be quite disorganised, he waited, on the 18th, till the ground should become hard, and instead of beginning the battle, as he ought to have done, at six in the morning, he made his first offensive movement between ten and eleven. He suffered himself also to be hurried into more than one blunder, during the progress of the battle itself. The attack on Hougomont, which ought to have been a false one, became his principal attack, in which he threw away his best troops. His operations against the centre, and still more against the English left, which ought to have been his principal operations, never became more than secondary. Finally, he brought, or allowed his reserves to be carried too soon into action ; and had nothing left wherewith to cover his retreat. All this is true. It is equally true, that he marched columns upon the English posi- tion, which were too dense to be pliable, and too closely packed to afford room for deploying. Neither can we deny, that the final catas- trophe became as terrible as we find it, because Grrouchy was not at hand to stop the Prussians on their march, or to engage them after they arrived at the defiles of Ohain. But not to repeat the observa- tion which has been hazarded elsewhere, that on the field of battle as at a game of chess, the victor prevails quite as much, because his adversary falls into mistakes, as because he himself avoids them ; we must observe, that critics who argue thus, overlook the great fact, that the Duke had so disposed his troops as to provide against 320 MEMOIR OP THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1815 every emergency. He had many regiments in the field that day, which never fired a shot. His reserves, massed and husbanded behind the ridge on which his first line stood, were in a condi- tion to be moved, and were moved, to the right, to the left, or wherever their presence might most be required. It is true that some of these were so little to be depended upon, that they stole away to the rear, before danger threatened. But others did their duty, or would have done it, had occasion for more active exertions arisen. Without, therefore, pretending to under-estimate the im- portance of the mistakes committed by Napoleon, we are surely justified in claiming for the superior tactical ability of the Duke, no small share of the success which crowned his efforts. But was not the British army virtually defeated ; and did not the opportune arrival of the Prussians save it from destruction ? Certainly not. The French had delivered their last attack, and failed in it, before the pressure of the Prussians on their flank and rear was felt by either side. They had struck their last blow, and must have retired, whether the Prussians had come up or not. But they might, and probably would have, retired in something like order, to be followed next day, perhaps cautiously, by the victors. Even in this event, however, the game which he was plajdng must have been lost to Napoleon. The Allies were marching from the Upper Ehine and through Switzerland into France. He could not hope to raise a second army of strength enough to meet them, nor prevent Blucher and Wellington from reuniting somewhere, and marching upon Paris. The opportune arrival of the Prussians, therefore, sufficed to convert defeat into rout ; but it contributed in no degree towards the preservation of the English army. Again, the Duke is blamed for halting where he did, and risking a battle, with the Forest of Soigne in his rear. Why is he blameable for that ? The Forest of Soigne is singularly clear from brushwood. Broad tracks or rides intersect it in various directions; while two great roads, that from Charleroi and that from Nivelles, pass, the one directly through, the other round, it. All these were practicable for horsemen, most of them for wheel carriages; so that retreat, had he been forced to retire upon it would have been both easy and safe. But retreat would have only carried him nearer to his own supports, while the Prussians from one side, and Prince Frederick's corps from the other, would have hung upon both flanks of the pursuing army, and destroyed it. But this was not all. The Duke had arranged with Blucher, during the night of the 17th, that a corps of Prussians should arrive by two o'clock in the afternoon of the 18th, at the latest. 1815, M. BRIALMONTS REMAEKS. 321 They did not arrive till five, nor enter fairly into the battle till seven. But confident in his ability to keep his ground till two, the Duke made no hesitation in risking more ; and his courao-e received its reward. We cannot do better than bring this discussion to a close by quoting, first, the observations of M. Brialmont, on the conduct of the allied generals, and then a sentence or two from the Duke's own account of the whole matter. "Throughout the brief but decisive campaign of 1815, Wel- ling-ton and Blucher exhibited as much activity as talent. The Prussian marshal concentrated his troops with rare ability. Attacked unexpectedly on the 15th, he found himself next day at Ligny, with 80,000 men ; and though defeated on that day with considerable loss, he was able on the 17th to assemble his whole army at Wavre. The chief of his staff proceeded the same day to arrange with Wellington his dispositions for the morrow, and on the 18th, before four in the morning, Bulow's corps had received orders to move in the direction of St. Lambert. Two other corps took the same route afterwards ; insomuch that soon after mid-day about 45,000 Prussians found themselves struggling along execrable roads, threading a forest, and presenting their flank to 32,000 Frenchmen. In that march, full of peril as it was, considered as an isolated movement, Blucher had the courage to persevere, not- withstanding that he heard, about one o'clock, the tumult of a cannonade towards Wavre. Hence he effected his junction with Welling-ton at the decisive moment of the battle ; and on the defeat of the enemy, conducted a pursuit which, considering that , his men had been on their legs about nineteen hours, was vigorous and energetic to a marvel. " To the Duke of Wellington equal credit is due. His plan of campaign was admirably conceived, and it may fairly be said that he left no measure neglected which was necessary to secure its success. The selection of Quatre-Bras and Sombreffe as the points of junction for the English and Prussian armies was in perfect agreement with the principles of the art of war ; and the position in front of Mont St. Jean, whatever may be said to the contrary, offered an excellent field of battle. At the same time, we cannot deny that he would have turned it to better account if he had placed more troops on his left and fewer on his right, because the great object of the Emperor was to separate entirely the English and the Prussians. " ' The two allied armies,' says the Duke, ' communicated with each other throughout the night of the 17th of June; and the cavalry of General Bulow's Prussian corps of Marshal Prince Y 322 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1815. Bluclier'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 difficult 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 all the important political interests committed to their charge, being secure." " The first thing heard of the operations of Marshal Blucher's army was a report, brought from the left of the army under the Duke of Wellington, 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 Planchenoit. " The report of the battle, made at the time by the Duke of Wellington to the British and Allied Grovernments 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 officers and troops, to aid and support him, 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 which 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 attack upon his position in great confusion, and that the march of Greneral Bulow's corps, by Fishermont upon Planchenoit and La Belle Alliance, had begun to take effect ; and as he could perceive the fire of his cannon, and as Marshal Prince Blucher, 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." The Duke's jealousy of the Nivelle road, and his continued occupation of Hal by a corps of troops, have been much censured by military critics. M. Brialmont joins in this censure, and blames the Duke for not calling in Prince Frederick, as soon as he discovered that the whole French army was in his front. To the last hour of his life, the Duke contended that he had done right in leaving Prince Frederick at Hal. " It is impossible," he says, in the memorandum already referred to, " to close this paper without observing that F. M. the Duke of Wellington's letters, published by Colonel Gurwood, afford proofs that he was convinced that the enemy ought to have attacked by other lines, rather than by the M 1815. THE DUKES MEMORANDUM. 323 valley of the Sambre and of the Meuse. And that even up to the last moment previous to the attack of his position at Waterloo, he conceived that they would endeavour to turn it by a march upon Hal. He states this in letters to the Duke de Feltre, on the loth, and the Duke de Berri and King Louis XVIII., at half-past three, A.M., on the 18th of June ; and there are orders to his patrols of cavalry, on the nights of the 1 6th and 1 7th of June, to observe particularly the enemy's movements towards Nivelle. It might be a nice question for military discussion whether Bonaparte was right in endeavouring to force the position of Waterloo, or the Duke right in thinking that, from the evening of the 16th, he would have taken a wiser course if he had moved to his left, reached the high road leading from Mons to Brussels, and turned the right of the position of the Allies by Hal. It is obvious that the Duke was prepared for such a movement." Y 2 324 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1815. CHAP. XXIV. IHE DUKE ENTEES PAKIS. — SMOOTHS DCWN PRINCE BLTJCHEE. — THE ARMY OF OCCUPATION. — THE EXECUTION OF LABEDOTERE AND NET. — THE DUKE'S LIFE T'NVICE ATTEMPTED. — FRANCE PACIFIED. — THE ARMY BREAKS UP. On no previous occasion had the Duke of Wellington exhibited greater quiet courage, or been more exposed to personal danger, than during the progress of the battle of Waterloo. He personally directed every movement ; he superintended almost every change of disposition from morning till night. Wherever his troops were most pressed there he was sure to be found. Almost all his at- tendants were killed or wounded at his side ; indeed at one mo- ment he was left so completely alone, that he was obliged to employ a Sardinian officer, a volunteer in the field, M. de Salis, to carry an important order. He led the final charge, riding in front of the line ; and when the enemy gave way, and the growing darkness required it, he mixed with the foremost of the skirmishers in order to keep the fugitives steadily in view. So apparently reck- less, indeed, had he become, that one of his staff remonstrated with him, and said, " We are getting into enclosed ground, you have no business here. Your life is too valuable to be thrown away." " Never mind," was the Duke's reply, " 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 Blucher met at the Maison du Roi. Here it was arranged that the Prussians, who had fallen in upon the same road with the English, should continue the pur- suit. For though Welling-ton made arrangements to support them with part of his troops, these proved to be so completely exhausted by the fatigues of battle, that they could not go on. A haU was therefore ordered midway between Eossonne and Grenappe. From that point the Duke rode slowly home, in clear moonlight, and alone. Scarcely one of his old companions through the war of the Peninsula remained to cheer him with his congratulations. Colonel De Lancy, his Quarter-master Greneral, had received a mortal wound ; Major-General Barnes, his Adjutant-General, was wounded also ; Lieutenant-Colonel Fitzroy Somerset, his faithful 1815. THE DUKE AFTEE THE BATTLE. 325 and attached Military Secretary, had lost an arm, and been carried to Brussels. Of his aides-de-camp, two, Colonel the Honourable Alexander Gordon, and Lieutenant-Colonel Canning, were both struck down. The latter died on the spot ; the former only sur- vived 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 ampu- tation 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 particularise, 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 gfrand total, on the side of the Allies, of 23,185. Out of this enormous multitude the English alone lost 11,678; the Netherlanders lost 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 amoimted to 31,000 or 32,000. Napoleon reckons it at 23,600 only ; of these 7000 were prisoners. If we include the casualties which befel in the pursuit, it was pro- bably 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 prepared 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 have sustained, particularly in your brother. The glory resulting from such actions, so dearly bought, is no consolation to me ; and I cannot suggest it as any to you and to his friends." In the same spirit he expressed himself when communicating with the Duke of Beaufort. " You are aware how useful your brother has always been to me, and how much I shall feel the want of his assistance, and what a regard and affection I feel for him, and you will readily believe 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." A great victory, like a great defeat, disorganises the army which has achieved it. It was necessary that both English and Prussians should refit before invading France. The latter had, indeed, done 4a 326 MEMOm OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1815. their work so well, that scarcely a brigade, or even a battalion of the defeated enemy held together, on this side the frontier. Grou- chey's corps, indeed, which, after a sharp action on the 19th, with General Theilman, marched through the forest of Ardenne, towards Laon, was entire ; and Prince Jerome, in the course of the 20th, collected about 25,000 fugitives in rear of Avesne. Of these and of Grouchy's corps, Napoleon was anxious to make use as the nucleus of a new army. But his generals refused to halt, even for a day, where they were, and he quitted Laon, pursuing his journey un- attended to Paris. There all was confusion and dismay. What- ever might be the objection of the senate to the Bourbons, it was clear that they would no longer acknowledge Napoleon as their sovereign ; and on the 22nd, he abdicated in favour of his son. But neither this deed, nor any other act of his, availed at that time to save the dynasty. Wellington and Blucher, of whom he hoped that they would get entangled among the frontier fortresses, had already settled their plan of campaign; and detaching troops enough to mask the more important of these strongholds, they were in full march, with the bulk of their armies, upon Paris. Before passing the frontier, Wellington issued a proclamation, in which he informed the French people, that he did not come to make war upon them ; and that provided they remained in their homes, and committed no act of hostility towards his troops, their lives and property would be respected. Blucher did nothing of the sort. The Prussians had, or conceived that they had, a long list of wrongs to avenge, and they plundered and burned towns and villages wherever they came. Having the start of the Eng- lish, likewise, and following a more direct route, they arrived first in the vicinity of the capital ; being bent on seizing Napoleon, if that were possible, and hanging him in sight of the whole army. But Napoleon, after his abdication, had removed to Malmaison ; and a provisional government was formed. With this body, as soon as he arrived, Wellington entered into communication. It was settled that the French troops should withdraw behind the Loire ; that Paris should open its gates on capitulation, and, by and by, that Louis XVIII. should resume his seat on the throne. Meanwhile, however, the flight of Napoleon was arranged, and, to a certain extent, connived at. No one, except, perhaps. Prince Blucher desired to be incumbered with him; and Blucher, the Duke with difficulty restrained from hunting him to the death. But there was no purpose on the part of the Allies that he should escape to America. He accordingly found himself constrained to surrender, when he reached the coast, to a British cruiser, and became ulti- mately an exile in St. Helena, where he died. 1815. THE DUKE AND PRINCE BLUCHER. 327 The moving- spirit of the provisional government of France, at this time, was Fouche, Due d'Otrante. Talleyrand, who had retired with the King, was the great adviser of Louis ; and between Talleyrand and Fouche there seems to have been throughout, a perfect understanding. They were both highly esteemed by the Duke, not, perhaps, on account of their honesty, for he fully under- stood the characters of both, but because theu- judgments seemed to be more clear, and their influence greater than those of any other public men than connected with the affairs of Europe. Now if there was one man more obnoxious than all others to the princes of the house of Bourbon, it was Fouche. Besides serving Napo- leon during the hundred days, he had been a member of the con- vention, which passed sentence of death on Louis XVL, and was regarded in consequence, by every member of the family, not as a rebel only, but as a regicide. To press such a man upon the King, as a minister, was a stroke of policy, on which few would have ventured; yet so convinced was the Duke, that without Fouche no effective government could be formed, that he urged and carried the point. It was an outrage on their private feelings which the Bourbons never forgave. Still Fouche became head of the police — all opposition to his proposals gave way — a consti- tution was arranged, offered, and accepted ; and the King, on the 9th of July, took quiet possession of the Tuileries. . All this was most distasteful to Prince Blucher. He had counted on the plunder of Paris, and even after the capitulation was signed, demanded a large sum of money as a war contribution. Persuaded to remit this, he avowed his determination to destroy the bridge of Jena ; and was very anxious to overturn the Auster- litz column, at the same time. The Count Von der Grotz, formerly one of his aides-de-camp, being entreated by Prince Talleyrand to interfere, wrote to Blucher, and besouglit him to abandon his purpose. Blucher's answer was very characteristic: " I have deter- mined on blowing up the bridge," he wrote, " and I cannot con- ceal from your Excellency how much pleasure it would afford me, if M. Talleyrand would previously station himself upon it. I beg that you will make my wishes known to him." From this, as well as from his schemes of plunder, the Duke alone had influence enough to dissuade the fiery Prussian. He accomplished his purpose by a combination of argument and hospitality, of which the evidence is as curious as it is characteristic. One letter, written on the 9th of July, pointed out that to levy contributions now, and to destroy public monuments, would be subversive of the capitulation whicli had been signed on the 3rd. In another short note, written on the 10th, he invites Blucher to dine with him at Very's, and Y 4 328 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OP WELLINGTON. 1815. announces the speedy arrival of the Emperor of Eussia and the Kinof of Prussia. Whether Blucher would have withstood the reasoning of the 9th, is uncertain. He could not hold out against the good cheer of the 10th, and the bridge of Jena and the pillar of Austerlitz were both saved. Of the various arrangements and negociations which followed, it is not necessary to speak at length. The Allied armies poured into France ; the Allied Sovereigns arrived in Paris. They came resolute, as it appeared, to teach the French nation a great lesson. Austria demanded the restoration of Alsace and of Lorraine. Prussia insisted that she could never be safe unless Mayence, Luxemburg, and the districts adjacent to her border line, were made over to her. Spain set up pretensions to the whole of the Basque provinces ; and the King of the Netherlands desired to be put in possession of all the fortresses in the north of France. The Duke of Wellington, alone, resisted these schemes of dismember- ment. His owTL government, lukewarm in regard to the three first, was decidedly in favour of the last arrangement. The Duke objected to it as firmly as to the others. Concerning the larger project, he wrote to Lord Castlereagh, on the 11th of August, in these words : "My objection to the demand of a great cession from France upon this occasion is, that it will defeat the object which the Allies have held out to themselves, in the present and the pre- ceding wars. That which has been their object, has been to put an end to the French Revolution, to obtain peace for themselves and their people, and to have the power of reducing their overgrown military establishments, and leisure to attend to the internal con- cerns of their several nations, and to improve the situation of their people. The Allies took up arms against Buonaparte, because it was certain that the world could not be at peace as long as he should possess, or should be in a situation to attain supreme power in France; and care must be taken, in making the arrangements consequent on our success, that we do not leave the world in the same unfortunate situation that it would have been in, if Buona- parte had continued in possession of his power. It is impossible to surmise what would be their line of conduct if the King and his Government oppose the demand of any considerable cession from France upon the present occasion. It is certain, however, that whether the cession should be agreed to or not by the King, the situation of the Allies would be very embarrassing. If the King- were to refuse to agree to the cession, and were to throw himself upon his people, there can be no doubt that those divisions would cease, which have heretofore occasioned the weakness of France. The Allies might take the provinces and fortresses which would 1815. THE AEMY OP OCCUPATION. 329 suit them, but there would be no genuine peace for the world ; no nation could disarm, no sovereign eovdd turn his attention from the affairs of this country. If the King were to agree to make the cession, which, from all that we hear, is an event by no means probable, the Allies must be satisfied, and must retire ; but I would appeal to the experience of the transactions of last year, for a state- ment of the situation in which we should find ourselves." Similar in its tone, is the memorandum which he sent in, respecting the permanent annexation of the northern fortresses to the Nether- lands. After arguing against the arrangement on military grounds, he observes : " If the policy of the united powers of Europe is to weaken France, let them do it in reality. Let them take from that country its population and resources, as well as a few fortresses. If they are not prepared for that decisive measure, if peace and tranquillity for after years be their object, they must make an arrangement which will suit the interests of all the parties to it, and of which the justice and expediency will be so evident, that they will tend to carry it into execution." The wisdom and far-sighted views of the Duke prevailed over the more selfish considerations of others. He found in the Emperor of Eussia a willing ally; and it was finally settled, that France should not be reduced below the limits of 1792 ; that she should pay a large sum in compensation of the expenses of the war ; that for a space of five, or if need arose, of seven years, an army of occupation should be kept up at her expense ; and that certain fortresses should be retained during these years, by the allied troops composing this army. At first it was proposed to make this army 200,000 strong ; the Duke, however, expressed an opinion that 150,000 would suffice. One hundred and fifty thousand were therefore agreed upon ; and England undertaking to furnish one third of that number, the chief command of the whole was conferred upon the Duke. The settlement of these important matters could not be effected till late in the year ; and France, while they yet remained in abeyance, suffered severely. She was overrun from the Ehine to the capital, with foreign troops, who lived, except where the English lay, pretty much at free quarters. Her own disbanded soldiers, including the corps which laid down its arms behind the Loire, broke up into bands of marauders ; and to crown all, party strifes broke out in the provinces, amounting well nigh to civil war, between Eoyalists and Ultra-Eomanists on the one side, and Eepublicans or Bonapartists, generally Protestants, on the other. In Paris, meanwhile, men's minds were kept in a state of irritation, by events which wounded the national vanity, more than 330 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OP WELLINGTON. 1815. they interfered with the personal comforts of individuals. The Allied Sovereigns considering themselves released from the obli- gations of the treaty of 1814, reclaimed those monuments of art, which had on former occasions been conceded to France. Each expressed his determination to remove whatever pictures or statues had been carried away in the course of former wars from his own capital. Commissioners went round to examine all the galleries and museums with a view to the accomplishment of this purpose. A cry of mingled indignation and anguish broke out from all circles in the French capital. The King protested, so did his ministers, so did the houses of parHament, so did the people; but the Allies were inexorable. Prussia, Austria, the Lesser German States, all claimed their own. The King of the Netherlands did in like manner, and the Duke being requested to see that his interests were attended to, fell at once into extreme disrepute with the French court. Two rather ludicrous instances of the extent to which this feeling was carried, seem to deserve notice. As long as the Duke was content to guard the interests of France against the allied governments, he was adored in Paris. All classes vied with one another to do him honour. The King, and even the Princes, though at heart they hated him, were particularly civil ; and ministers and marshals embraced every opportunity of doing him honour. When it became known that he had refused to interfere, and had even taken part in stripping the Louvre, all this display of courtesy ceased. He was far more to be blamed than anybody else. Having signed the cajDitulation of Paris, 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 Frenchman could hereafter remain on terms of common acquaintance with such a man ; no good Frenchman did. One day, to his great surprise, he received a note from the Due Duras, declining in a very curt manner to dine with him. The Duke was surprised, inquired into, and ascer- tained 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 retiu'n to me a note which you consider to be an invitation to dinner ' in a someAvhat royal style.' In reply, I beg of you to believe that the note was not intended for you, and I offer you a thovisand 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 vour name for that of the 1815, THE DUKE AND THE FEENCH MAESHALS. 331 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 Avhich 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. The second occur- rence might have led to graver consequences, but that the Duke treated it with contempt. He was in the frequent habit of attend- ing 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 King 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 cordially forgave the part which the Duke felt himself forced to play on this occasion ; 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 con- stitutional government, a proclamation of indemnity 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 Ney. The first, it will be remem- bered, had set the example of defection, by going over with his regi- ment to Napoleon. The last, after undertaking to bring back the in- vader in a cage, had joined him with the corj)s of which he was at the head. Both of these gentlemen were in Paris when the capitu- lation was signed ; and both, had they remained in it, would have had a right, so far as the English and Prussian generals 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. 332 MEMOIR OP THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1815. 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 was countersigned by Fouche, the very person who, on the 6th, 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 appearing in Paris, after he had been proscribed ; and being recognised, was, of course, imprisoned, tried, and executed. Ney was scarcely more wise, and equally unfortunate. After 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 magistrate arrested him, and made a report of what he had done. The French Grovernment was annoyed, but could act only in one way. He was sent to Paris ; and after considerable delay, put upon his trial before the House of Lords, found guilty, and condemned 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 capitulation which he had signed. As soon, however, as the trial came on, the Duke was importuned to interfere ; and as far as it was possible for him, in his private capacity, and circumstanced as he then was in his relations with the French Grovernment, he did interfere. But when the friends of Ney went ftirther, 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 convention, and nothing more, entered into between the com- manders of two hostile armies ; but it neither was, nor could be, binding on the Allied Sovereigns, and still less upon the King of France. Besides, Marshal Ney, by fleeing from Paris before the Allies entered, had excluded himself from the privileges, whatever these might be, which the article in question conferred. But this was not all. Sir Charles, afterwards Lord Stuart de Eothsay, now represented England at the Court of France. If the English Government had felt itself at liberty to interfere, such interference would have taken place through him. The Duke was the com- * The 12th article ran thus: — " The persons and proiierty of individuals shall, in like manner, be respected, and the inhabitants, and all other persons resident in the capital, shall continue to enjoy their rights and liberties without being molested, or any inquiry made, respecting the employments which they follow, or may have followed, or their political conduct or opinions," 1815. THE ALLIED SOYEEEIGNS QUIT FRANCE. 333 mander of the English army, not the English ambassador. Besides the situation in which he stood, both towards the French Government and the French people, in consequence of his straight- forward conduct in the matter of the galleries and museums, rendered it impossible for him to ask, as a personal favour, what he had no right to demand as a right. For one or other of two results must have followed. Either the Grovernment would have refused to spare Ney, in which case the unpopularity of the execution would have been deepened four-fold ; or else, sparing him, at the request of the Duke, they would have incurred public odium, because they had given to the great enemy of the country what they refused to the country itself. The results are well known. Ney was shot, dying, as he had lived, a brave man ; and the Duke was charged with permitting the execution to take place because he was envious of the military reputation of a general whom he had often defeated in the field. Public opinion was in this state when, having put matters in a train towards ultimate settlement, the Allied Sovereigns, with the bulk of their forces, withdrew from France. It then remained for the Duke, with his army of 150,000 men, to take up the positions which had been agreed upon, and to occupy a chain of fortresses, extending from the Ehine on the left, to the Pas de Calais on the right. He had under his orders Austrians, Wurtemburgers, Bavarians, Prussians, Eussians, Hanoverians, Saxons, Danes, and English. The military systems of these various nations differed in many respects ; and with the exception of the corps in the pay of England, all, both officers and men, felt that they were in an enemy's country, and considered themselves justified in exercising no small license in their dealings with the people. The Duke saw both the impolicy and the danger of this, and set himself against it. Without issuing any violent orders, without outraging the self-respect of the general officers placed under him, he contrived to bring them, by degrees, to adopt his own wise views ; so that, within a few months after they had taken up their respective positions, the strangers found themselves on good terms with the people of the country. It is due, however, to the leaders of the continental armies to add that they taught their neighbours how to respect them. While within the English lines courts sat daily, to receive complaints against soldiers, and to punish the guilty, elsewhere justice was at once more steady and more even-handed. Criminals taken in the act were punished on the spot. Persons charged with crimes were confronted with their accusers. But whereas within the English lines accusers, if they failed in their case, were sent away unscathed, they never, within the lines of the 334- MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 18IG. other armies, escaped punishment. The consequence was that Russians, Prussians, Austrians, and Germans, committing many more outrages than the English, commanded, much more than the English, the respect which is akin to fear. The hardest possible trial for a proud nation is to find itself kept down by foreign bayonets. France bore with impatience the season of her humiliation. The King changed his ministers repeatedly, and introduced one innovation after another into the constitution ; but each party which came into power adopted, in this respect, the views and feelings of its predecessor. The expense of maintaining the army of occupation, likewise, was great; and the Allies rigidly exacted the sums which had been agreed upon, in the shape of indemnity. The French Grovernment, on the other hand, disputed every claim, and set up counter- claims innumerable. Commissioners were named to investigate these claims, and to strike a balance. They worked according 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 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 hostility of all classes. The King alone understood his value to the cause of order, and respected, if he did not personally love him. But almost every other French- man, except perhaps Talleyi-and, probably for this reason, hated him with all his heart. The Duke was evidently hated elsewhere than in France. There were scattered all through Europe at this time, knots of republicans, whom recent events had driven into exile ; and who made common cause with the discontented, wherever they settled themselves, and got up or encouraged the growth of secret societies. Belgium became the head-quarters of this revolutionary body ; for Belgium was one of the capitals of a constitutional state which guarded, with almost excessive tenderness, the liberties of indi- viduals, 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 181C. ATTEMPT TO BUKX THE DUKES HOTEL. 335 themselves that if this were done, a new revolution might soon be brought about; and the conduct of the French court, if not of the King, undoubtedly gave considerable show of plausibility to the argument. For the court had gradually weeded out of the ministry, whatever liberal statesmen had originally belonged to it. Fouche was sent into honourable banishment, Talleyrand was disgraced ; the Duke de Eichelieu, an ultra-royalist, guided the helm of state, under severe pressure from the King's brothers and the ladies of the family. Numerous proscriptions of sus- pected persons followed; and it was generally understood that an attempt would be made to recover the estates, which the first revolution had confiscated. The republicans believed, or professed to believe, that the Duke of Wellington was favourable to this policy. They established newspapers, in which they openly charged him with conspiring against the liberties of France ; and spoke of him as a public enemy whom it Avould be lawful to destroy, as men destroy wolves. Yet all this while he was incurring the bitter hostility of the Koyalists, in consequence of the remon- strances which he made to the King, against the reactionary policy of his ministers. Extremes meet in politics as in religion. Eoyalists and Eepub- licans, equally abhorred the man who opposed himself with the same honesty of purpose to the devices of both ; and both endea- voured to get rid of him by the same means. The Duke gave a ball at his hotel in the Eue Champs-Elysees, on the 25th of June, 1816. It was just after he had been with the King, and warned him of the mischief which his brothers and their bands 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, when an alarm was given that the house was on fire. It appeared, upon inquiry, that in a cellar, of which the window opened to the street, a barrel of oil had been placed ; shavings also had been scattered on the floor, in which some bottles filled ynth gunpowder were mixed, and the shavings were on fire, when the discovery was made. A few minutes later, and the whole 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 gun- powder, and shavings, had been placed where they were found, for his destruction ; and suspicion, not unnaturally, fell upon the heads of the party with which he was then at enmity. Of the source in which the second attempt on his life originated, there could be no doubt. The Eepublicans, or Bonapartists (for they were now united) gradually wrought themselves up to a state of rabid excitement. 336 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OP WELLINGTON. 181G. They received great encouragement from the Emperor Alexander of Eussia, who, raised to the throne under appalling circum- stances, and married to an amiable princess, 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 originated, which, though long misunderstood, is now known to have been as harmless as it was impracticable. It aimed at connecting the princes of Europe in a chain of brother- hood ; ])inding 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 affairs of the world might be managed by meetings, at fixed periods, of kings and their ministers, while to the peoples as much of liberty was given as should be compatible with the maintenance of order, and the due authority of patriarchal government. The policy of the Ultra-Royalists in France was peculiarly distasteful to a prince so disposed ; and he took every opportunity 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 expressing sympathy with them, he created the persuasion, that from him, at least, no opposition to the restora- tion of a golden age would be offered. 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 Wales. Partly, perhaps, for these rea- sons, partly, because he entertained profound respect for the Em- peror, the Prince took the same line in politics ; and protected, if be 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 upon 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 what gave pleasure to men of all shades of opinion in France. 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 with a strong hand to stop the evil. 1817. EUSSIAN POLICY. 337 This he did, increasing- 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 Grovern- ment and supported by Russia, to reduce the army of occupation by 30,000 men, had, through his influence, been rejected. The cir- cumstance was at a time when, the crops having failed, the pressure of a foreign army could not but be severely felt by the people ; and on the plea of relieving them the proposition was brought forward. But the Duke's superior sagacity showed him that unless the Allies were prepared to relieve France entirely from the obligations which they had imposed upon her, it was exactly at such a time that good policy required their hold upon the country to be firm. The army, it was demonstrated, had not been too strong to effect that purpose. Weaken it by 30,000, and bread-riots, which were pretty sure to occur, might grow into insurrection. But insurrec- tion, if it once gained head, would end in war ; and war, besides involving Europe in difficulties and expense, must lead to a third conquest of France, with all the evils attendant on it. The Duke's reasoning prevailed. No troops were withdrawn at that time, and the French Grovernment loudly complained, while the republican press pronounced him to be the enemy of the human race. The Duke, though he resisted the measure in question when first proposed, withdrew his opposition some months later. There was no famine in the land, and the people were, or seemed to be, as little discontented as usual. Accordingly, in April 1817, 30,000 allied troops quitted France, which experienced, in consequence, a considerable diminution of the burthens to which the Treaty of 1815 had subjected her. But the 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 was exceedingly anxious to conciliate France ; and her representative in Paris intrigued with the French Grovern- ment for getting rid of the army of occupation altogether. It seems difficult to believe that either he or his master could enter- tain 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 ful- filled 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 ob- taining for it the approval of his colleagues. Whatever went wrong at home or abroad, the Republicans laid 338 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1817. to the door of Wellington and the Bourbons. The failure of the Eussian scheme supplied them with an admirable topic ; and they made their own use of it. In August 1817, a placard 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 sup- porters. Of this placard a copy was sent to the Duke, who trans- mitted 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 communication of this paper to the principal officers of the army of occupation, as it ap- pears 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 sur- prise. A few straggling officers or soldiers might be murdered in their cantonments in the winter, certainly ; but nothing could prevent our collecting, if necessary ; and then, I confess, I don't see what could injure us." The Duke divided his time a good deal between Valenciennes, 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 council of ministers. In these deliberations all the affairs of the world were discussed. Austria and Spain were at variance about certain Italian principalities. They accepted, 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 success, to mediate between Spain and her revolted colonies. It was while he occu- pied himself in these laudable efforts, that the Duke narrowly escaped the second attempt upon his life. He occupied, as we have said, 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 revolution of that year. The en- trance to it was under a covered passage, the gate of which stood square towards the street ; presenting a somewhat awkward means of approach, except to a skilful driver. It happened that on the 11th of February, 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 dis- covered a man who darted across the street in front of the carriage, and took up his station within the gateway; and the coachman, suspicious that all could not be right, flogged his horses and drove rapidly. No sooner was the carriage well under the arch, than a 1817. THE DUKE SHOT AT. 339 pistol was fired, but without effect. The Duke heard the report, looked out, and saw the person who had discharged it turn and run awa}'-. Before the horses could be stopped, and a pursuit under- taken, he disappeared in the darkness : he was safe for the night. The police was at once communicated with, and an active search for 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-commis- sioned officer in the Imperial army. Upon him suspicion fell, and being arrested and shown to the Duke's servants they immediately identified him. He was committed to prison, and an assurance given that no means would be omitted of discovering his accom- plices and bringing them likewise to justice. There is nothing to show that the French Grovernment desired to push its inquiries 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 confidential aide-de-camp of the Prince of Orange was known to be connected. A peremptory demand for the arrest of these persons could scarcely, under the circum- stances, have been evaded. But the French Government, by what motive actuated we cannot pretend to say, made no such demand. The consequence was that all who lay open to suspicion 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, any where except in the Paris of 1818, would have proved his guilt, was acquitted. We might here close our 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 congratulation ; but, by and by, after he ascended the throne, bestowed upon Can- tillon the place of gamekeeper at Fontainebleau. Nor were either Napoleon 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 Cantillon, in approval of the act, a legacy of 10,000 francs, which the latter, a quarter of a cen- tury afterwards, paid, with all the interest accruing thereon, to his representatives. There was, however, a person on whom these occurrences wrought with terrible effect. The Prince of Orange felt over- whelmed with grief and shame. He wrote to the Duke, entreating z 2 340 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1817. him to believe that he neither was, nor ever coukl have been, a party to such proceedings. His association 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 re-assure him on that head. He even promised to visit him, in order to convince the world that a perfect understanding still subsisted between them, and suggested that an excellent opportunity was afforded 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 Cambrai or at Zoestdyke on that occasion ; but the Duke was soon afterwards gratified by hearing that the reconcilia- tion which he had advised had been effected, and that the Prince ceased to entertain any more unnatural leanings towards ultra- 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 affairs. For the exercise of his talents as a general no scope, indeed, was afforded. Broils here and there occurred — personal quarrels be- tween the French and the foreign troops, or between the foreign troops and the inhabitants. 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 sys- tematic 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 Grerman officers began to mix in a friendly manner in civic and rural fetes. Conspirators grew weary of con- spiring. The French people became reconciled to their govern- ment — the government seemed more and more to trust the people. Even the adjustment of claims appeared to be acquiesced in, and the terras of the Treaty of 1815 were either fulfilled or put in the way of fulfilment. What need could there be for a continued occupa- tion 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 1818. SIR SIDNEY SMITH AND THE KEY. 341 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. It is much to be regretted that of the details of the Duke's domestic life all this while scarcely any tradition remains. That he kept a generous table, both at Cambrai and in Paris, entering heartily into all amusements, public and private, need scarcely be stated. In this he only obeyed the dictates of natural instinct, for his disposition was genial even in seasons of anxiety. As little need we stop to explain that he promoted among his officers in France, as he had done in Portugal and Spain, field sports — sub- ject to this restriction alone, that they should be followed with the same respect for law and the rights of proprietors which would have been necessary in England. Few, however, who either par- took of his hospitality or shared in his amusements, survive to speak of them ; and of such events, by no means unimportant in human life, history takes no notice. We must be content, there- fore, to observe, that those who saw him most nearly, esteemed him most highly ; that to the members of his own household he was always considerate and kind ; that within certain limits they took all manner of liberties with him, and sometimes quizzed his guests a little unmercifully. The following account of the manner in which they played upon the personal vanity of Sir Sidney Smith, will show of what stuff the young men were made. There was to be a ball at the Duke's house one evening in Paris, and Sir Sidney received an invitation to be present. But he re- ceived more. A packet reached him in the course of the morning, as if from the Sublime Porte, announcing that, in consideration of his great services at Acre, the Sultan had been pleased to confer upon him the Order of the Key. Soon afterwards a box was handed in, which, on being opened was found to contain a key carefully wrapped up in gilded paper, and having a broad ribbon attached to it. The key happened to be very rusty, and the cir- cumstance was accounted for in the letter, which stated that the box had unfortunately got wet with sea water in its passage from Constantinople. The gallant admiral received the present, as it was anticipated that he would ; and being desirous of obtaining some other autho- rity than his own for wearing the order, he proceeded 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 z 3 342 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1818. upon his feelings, and, pretending to be exceedingly angry, advised Sir Sidney not to wear the key. He was convulsed with laughter when he met the culprits at dinner, and often told the story after- wards with admirable humour. Nor was it exclusively with his personal staff, or among his more intimate acquaintances in civil or military life, that the Duke gave free vent to his exuberance of spirits. At the meetings of minis- ters in Paris and at Aix-la-Chapelle he was the gayest of the gay, insomuch that from Metternich and others he acquired the sobri- quet of the "glorious boy." And yet the Duke was far from possessing a temper naturally placid or even gentle. No man could bear contradiction better when great issues were at stake. He would listen with marvellous patience to reasonings which he felt to be extravagant, provided they came from individuals whose position or knowledge entitled them to hold and maintain opinions at all ; but petty crosses and acts of disobedience irritated him beyond measure. Entirely as the officers of his staff felt at their ease when receiving his instructions, and conducting the details of business, it was always a service of danger to approach him if some blunder were to be accounted for or a breach of discipline to be reported ; and it is fair to add that this remarkable admix- ture of irritability with playfulness adhered to him to the last. The members of his family used to speak of these explosions as letting off the steam. Yet they all bore them with equanimity ; for a burst of anger, especially if it happened to be a little unrea- sonable, was invariably succeeded by a greater amount than usual of urbanity and kindness. And so it was beyond his' own imme- diate household. To the outer world he often appeared to be unforgiving and obstinate ; those who knew him intimately were aware that such appearances belied him. For it was one of his maxims that the governing power should take the utmost possible care never to commit a mistake ; but if a mistake were committed that the governing power should never acknowledge that it had done wrong. On this principle he seems to have acted throughout the whole of his long career ; yet the wronged individual, if he had but patience, was sure in the end to be righted. The Duke might not say, in direct terms, " Forgive me, I gave an erroneous judgment in your case," but the error, if it proved to be one, sooner or later made itself felt, and he sought, and always found, an op- portunity of showing that it had been involuntary. We state this, not as pretending either to justify or condemn the practice, but as a fact illustrative of one of those peculiarities which usually apper- tain to strongly marked characters, and which are perhaps inse- parable from them. 1818. THE DUKE IN THE CABINET. 343 CHAP. XXV. THE DFKE IX THE CABINET. — STATE OF THE COUNTRT. — CATO STREET CON- SPIRACY. — queen's trial. — CONTINENTAX POLITICS. Thus came to a close the military career of the great Duke of Wellington. In after life he commanded in chief the armies of Great Britain, and directed operations, or advised upon them, from a distance. But he never again led troops in the field. His energies were henceforth to be devoted to politics, in which, if he achieved few triumphs, the merit cannot be denied him of having softened down many asperities, and warded off some public mis- fortunes. He was at Aix-la-Chapelle when, in October, 1818, he received an intimation from Lord Liverpool that the Master- Greneralship of the Ordnance, with a seat in the Cabinet, was at his option. The Earl of Mulgrave, it appeared, had voluntarily resigned the office, not through any personal or political estrange- ment from his colleagues, for he still retained his place in the Cabinet, but, in order, to use his own expression, "that the head of the administration might have an opportunity of com- manding, at all times, the advice of one whose judgment, especially upon military questions, would be of inestimable value." Lord Liverpool, in writing to the Duke, took care to state all this, while at the same time he explained that the Prince Regent, equally with himself, waited anxiously for a reply, and hoped that it would be favourable. Such an intimation, conveyed in terms so flattering, had with the Duke of Wellington the force of a command. He felt and always avowed himself to be the servant of the crown. He was prepared to undertake any office, and to discharge any range of duties, which the sovereign might be pleased to impose upon him. In this spirit he had accepted the French embassy of 1814, and was ready to lay it down again, and to go out in command of the troops destined for America, when the idea of so employing him was momentarily entertained. Happily for England and for Europe, that project dropped of its own accord ; and the foremost military genius of the age, instead of wasting its energies in bushfights with undisciplined militia, was reserved to gather its crowning laurels Z 4 344 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1818. on the field of Waterloo. The same high sense of dut}^, not any impulse of personal ambition or craving after place, induced him now to close with Lord Liverpool's proposal. Waiting, therefore only till the different corps of the army could be put in motion, and taking leave of them one by one in valedictory orders of the day, he passed over to England, where he was immediately sworn in, and took his seat as a member of the administration of which the Earl of Liverpool was at the head. The Duke began what may be called his political career at an anxious and even a critical period in Enghsh history. So sudden a change as had occurred from a state of chronic war to one of peace, could not fail to operate disastrously on all the great inte- rests of the country. It was felt first by the ship-owners, who, after long enjoying a monopoly of the carrying trade of the world, saw a formidable competition entered into against them by the mercantile marine of every commercial state in both hemispheres. The blow fell next upon the owners and occupiers of land, the price of whose corn and cattle sank, all at once, to little more than half of what they had been accustomed to receive throughout well- nigh a quarter of a century. The growers of colonial produce sustained a similar and perhaps a heavier mortification ; for having persuaded themselves that the continental nations were famishing for their sugars and coffees, they glutted every market with com- modities which no one cared to purchase. Nor were the manu- facturers of cotton, woollen, and other stuffs in a better predicament. They poured their fabrics into districts the inhabitants of which were too much impoverished by the ravages of war to deal with them ; and then, after cramming their own warehouses with the cargoes thrown back upon their hands, they shut up their mills, and their workmen ceased to be employed. There followed upon this an enormous increase of poor rates, with idleness and poverty in all quarters ; of which there were not wanting demagogues to take advantage; and of which the results were, a state of bitter hostility between classes, and universal discontent among the working- people with their employers and with the G-overnment. The moral hurricane which swept over England between 1814 and 1818 seemed, when the Duke took his seat in the Cabinet, to have in some measure expended its violence. The passing of the Corn Bill at the former of these periods, had inspired the agricul- turists with hope, and kept the great body of the tenant farmers loyal. The repeal of the income-tax in 1816, and the continuance of prohibitory duties on articles of foreign manufacture, were accepted by British manufacturers and artisans as a great boon. Both sections of the community have since discovered their mis- 1818. DISTURBED STATE OF ENGLAND. 345 take; and com laws are got rid of, and free trade established through the instrumentality of a renewed income-tax. Still the mind of the nation was by no means settled. Further reductions in the army, in the navy, and in all the public establishments were demanded. The demand was acceded to, and crowds of sol- diers and sailors, and workmen from the arsenals and dockyards, coming upon the labour market, already overstocked, served but to aggravate the general distress. The mob rose in Spa Fields in 1816, broke into the gunsmiths' shops, and fired upon the magis- trates of London. In 1817 a more extensive conspiracy was discovered, and the Prince Eegent was hooted and stoned as he returned from opening the session of Parliament. Then followed the suspension of the Habeas Corpus Act — an insurrection at Derby, which was put down — the arrest of many persons in dif- ferent parts of the country, and the execution of a few taken with arms in their hands. Owing partly to these vigorous proceedings, but much more to a general improvement in trade and commerce, the latter months of 1817, and the whole of 1818, proved to be seasons of comparative repose. The Act suspending the law of Habeas Corpus was permitted to expire, and ministers and people equally flattered themselves, that the dawn of that plenty, which is associated in men's minds with the idea of peace, was at length beginning to appear. We are not called upon on the present occasion to discuss the merits of that famous bill which re-established cash payments in England, and put a stop to the system of unlimited credit, on which the trade and commerce of the country had for long years been conducted. We should be sorry to be understood as attri- buting to that or to any specific law, events, to the production of which many causes contributed ; but there can be no doubt of the fact that the tide, which in 1817 seemed to be setting strong in favour of England's prosperity, suddenly turned ; and that the evils from which she appeared to have just escaped, came back upon her with redoubled violence. Country bankers, prohibited from circulating their own paper, could no longer afford to farmers and traders the accommodation to which they were accustomed. Many retired from business altogether, and not a few became bankrupt ; while the price of corn, and indeed of every other ar- ticle of consumption, fell far below the average of former years. Now there was, comparatively speaking, no foreign market at that time for British manufactures, and the closing of the home market, consequent upon such a state of things, paralysed the industry of the nation. Once more the mills stopped, and operatives and agricultural labourers, thrown out of employ, had no other resource 346 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1818. than their parishes. The political agitation which had ceased for a while thereupon revived, and took a far more formidable as- pect. Men met by hundreds and by thousands on moors and in desolate places, to drill under cover of night; secret associa- tions were entered into, which bound themselves together by oaths of the most truculent kind ; and agitators went about from one great town to another, inflaming the passions of the people, and instigating them to acts of violence. This was a miserable state of things, and perhaps it was not very wisely dealt with. Forty years ago the opinion almost universally pre- vailed that the people had nothing to do with the laws except to obey them ; and complaints, unless they took the constitutional form of petitions to Parliament, were, for the most part, restrained by violence. On the other hand, the people had not then learned how to make their grievances known, yet keep within the limits of the law. The Manchester Massacre, as it was called, with the passing of the Six Acts, were forced upon the magistracy and the legislature by the violence of mobs and mob leaders. You cannot reason with armed crowds. You must establish the supremacy of the law before you can conciliate with safety. We are not pre- pared to say that all was done between 1818 and 1820 which might have been done to place the nation firmly on its legs. "We may question the policy of some measures which, however sound in themselves, wi'ought harm by being adopted prematurely, and we may see the folly of deferring others till the power to withhold them ceased. But it appears to us that, with the manufacturing districts universally seditious, and insurrection openly practised and prepared for by midnight drillings, the Grovernment had no alternative, except to keep the peace with a strong hand. The few troops which remained in Grreat Britain were reinforced by calling back to their standards some thousands of pensioners. To the latter the charge of protecting the arsenals and dockyards was entrusted, while the former were employed to prevent an outburst which, had it occurred, must have led to consequences more serious than the mere loss either of life or property. Lord Sidmouth, who was at that time Secretary of State for the Home Department, gladly availed himself of the assistance which the new Master-Greneral of the Ordnance was able and willing to afford. The following memoradum will show what the Duke's opinions were in regard to the means by which the peace of a dis- turbed district can best be maintained.* * Letter to General Sir John Byng, who then commanded in the northern district. It was written in Lord Sidmouth's office, on the spur of the moment. 1818. LETTER TO GENERAL BYNG. 347 "London: Oct. 21st, 1819. " My dear Byng, " The account which I saw yesterday of the proceedings of the Radicals in different parts of England, tends to prove that we are not far removed fi-om a general and simultaneous rising in various places. It is probable they will first meet in this matter and try their ground, and see how the troops are disposed of, and then proceed to business, which will be neither more nor less than the radical plunder of the rich towns and houses which will fall in their way. " With the force which we have, it is impossible to prevent the success of this object in every part, and what we must take care of is, that they have no success against any body of troops. As long as no misfortune happens to them, the mischief will be confined to plunder and a little murder, and Avill not be irretrievable ; but it is impossible to foresee how far it will go, if the mob should, in any instance, get the better of the troops. I put out of the question their corrupting the troops, unless they are remarkably changed since I knew them about a twelvemonth ago ; and unless the mob should have some success against them. " I would recommend you, then, in the disposition you will make of youi' troops, first, to provide for the security of the King's garrisons, castles, and magazines, and secondly, so to dispose of the remainder of your troops, as to provide for the general security and peace of the district. But principally, to be certain that they will be able to join and sup2Dort each other in case of need ; and, above all, to ex230se no small detachments in a populous town to the danger of being disarmed, insulted, or destroyed. It is much better that a town should be plundered, and even some lives lost, than that the whole country should be exposed to the danger which would result from the success of the mob against even a small detachment of the troops. Excepting therefore in strongholds, I would recommend you not to detach the infantry in smaller bodies than 200 or 300 men. As for the cavalry, and particularly the Lancers, I would recommend you not to detach them at all from the infantry, and excepting with infantry. " I would also recommend you, instead of quartering your troops, to put them up in large barns or warehouses ; or to construct wooden huts for them, in situations removed from the temptations held oitt to them in the large towns. I should think you would experience no difiiciilty in finding situations of this kind on the commons, &c., which must abound in the district which you occupy ; and the Government Avill have no objection to allow you every reasonable expense for this object. " In the existing state of things, I consider 200 or 300 good infantry, with a little cavalry, fully sufficient for any mob of any niimbers, and by forming your detachments in this manner, you will always have it in your power to act according to cii'cumstances ; either uj^on many points, to preserve, as far as may be consistent with the safety of the troops, as many towns as possible from plunder, or upon a few or only on one, by the con- centration of the troops, if the mob should be more formidable, in your ojMuion, than I now believe them to be. " Observe this, that in detaching the troops in this manner, in barns. 348 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1818. warehouses, or temporary huts, you must take great care to provide for their having good fires in the buildings in Avhich you will place them : they will otherwise be wandering about to the public houses, &o. in the neighbourhood, and they will moreover become unhealthy. " P.S. Upon reconsidering the state of the detachments which I have recommended to you to form, it seems to me that each of them will be much strengthened by having a field piece ; I will therefore send down to Weedon ten six-pounders, horsed, Avith artillerymen attached, to be at your disposal. There will be ammimition in the limbers, but besides that, there -will be two ammunition waggons as a reserve, which you will place as you. please." We who live in the midst of an industrious and contented popu- lation, may find it difficult to understand the necessity of such proceedings as these. The younger portion of us, who never came under the influence of a political panic, will be still less able to account for and to justify the legislation of 1819. But it expressed the sentiments of a countless majority of the educated classes of that day ; and it received the hearty approval of the Prince Eegent and of both Houses of Parliament. Men felt that the existence of the commonwealth was at stake, and applied all the power of the Grovernment to defend it. There is no reason to believe that in the Cabinet the Duke took a view of the necessities of the times different from that entertained by his colleagues. Trained in Tory principles he adhered to them through life — not as they are misrepresented by writers of the opposite faction, but as William Pitt had settled them : faithful to the church, loyal to the crown, and conservative of the constitutional rights of the several orders in society. That both then and afterwards, he carried his views on this latter head somewhat farther than Pitt had ever done, cannot be denied. The Duke was pre-eminently a royalist and an aris- tocrat. But he was more : he was as true to his party as to his own honour. He might take his own line in the deliberations of the Cabinet, and was always prepared to separate from it rather than abandon a principle. But consenting to abide the issues of a vote, he at once adopted the decision as his own. And then, no man could be more urgent than he for an immediate and vigorous execution of the policy agreed upon. Hence we find that, on the 11th of December, 1819, immediately after the passing of the Six Acts, he expressed himself with regard to them in the following terms. He is writing to the Home Secretary, and says : — " I strongly recommend to you to order the magistrates to carry into execution, without loss of time, the law against training, and to furnish them with the means of doing so (do not let us be again reproached with having omitted to carry the laws into execution) 1818. DEATH OF GEORGE III. 349 by sending to Carlisle and Newcastle 700 or 800 men, cavalry and infantry, and two pieces of cannon, or in other words, two of these moveable columns. This force would be more than sufficient to do all that may be required. Rely upon it, that in the circum- stances in which we are placed, impression on either side is every- thing. If upon the passing of the training law you prevent training, either by the use of force, or the appearance of force, in the two places above-mentioned, you will put a stop at once to all the proceedings of the insurgents. They are like conquerors, they must go forward ; the moment they stop they are lost. Their adherents will lose all confidence, and by degrees every individual will relapse into their old habits of loyalty or indifference. On the other hand, the moment the loyal see there is a law which can prevent these practices; and means, and inclination, and deter- mination to carry it into execution, they will regain courage, and will do everything which you can desire. In my opinion, if you send the troops and order that the law shall be carried into execu- tion, you will not be under the necessity of using them, and the good effect of this will be felt, not only in these towns, but over all England. Observe also, that if training is continued after the passing of the law, which it will be unless you send a force to pre- vent it, the insurgents will gain a very important victory." So passed the first year of the Duke's life as a domestic politician and a member of a Tory Cabinet. It was one of critical importance to the country, and had to himself much of the interest which attaches to old associations. Indeed, we have more than once heard him allude to it as reminding him, because of the military arrangements which it became his duty to suggest, of the com- mencement of his own career as commander-in-chief in Portugal. It was succeeded by a season quite as fruitful in causes of anxiety ; though of anxiety originating in a less dignified source, and ending in less satisfactory issues. The death of Greorge III., by advancing Greorge IV. to the throne, brought to a head the differences which had long separated him from his consort, and involved the admi- nistration and the country in difficulties of which it is unnecessary here to speak. The Queen's Trial, as it was called, covered with disgrace all who were in any manner mixed up with it, without accomplishing a single purpose for which it had been begun and carried through. It was in the midst of the confusion incident to this state trial that the details of the Cato Street Conspiracy came to light. An adventurer named Thistlewood, having engaged a band of men desperate as himself, concocted a scheme for the overthrow of the monarchy. The first idea of the conspirators was to shoot the 350 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1818. King on his way to open Parliament ; but considering this attempt to be too dangerous, they resolved to murder all the members of the Cabinet ; and it was arranged that each minister should be watched, and when a convenient opportunity occurred, attacked separately and put to death. The Duke had a very narrow escape from one of these assassins. It chanced on a certain occasion that he was seen by the person appointed to watch for him coming out of the Ordnance office. The man followed him along Pall Mall, intending to stab him when he got into the Grreen Park. But Lord Fitzroy Somerset encountering the Duke, turned round with him, and they walked together arm in arm towards Apsley House. The murderer's heart failed him : he went back to his companions and stated that he was afraid to hazard the blow because a gentleman with one arm had joined his victim and gone home with him. This story came out in the course of the subsequent examination of the prisoners, and the Duke confirmed its truth, for he recol- lected being dogged along Pall Mall by a ma,n, who stood aloof when Lord Fitzroy entered into conversation with him, and slunk over to the other side of the street as soon as Lord Fitzroy gave his arm to the Duke and turned round with him. How the conspu-acy went on, and in what manner it was de- feated, is well-known. Foiled in their scheme of individual assas- sination, Thistlewood and his gang resolved to play a bolder game, and having ascertained that on a particular day there was to be a Cabinet dinner at Lord Harro why's house, they arranged to fall upon the assembled ministers there and put them to death. There was a traitor in their own body, who revealed the plot, and a few of the ministers took counsel together as to the best means of counteracting it. The Duke's plan was as characteristic as it was curious. He did not know how far the ramifications of the conspiracy might extend. It was very desirable that the leaders should be secured before any suspicion of the discovery got abroad, and this it appeared to him could best be done by catching them in their own trap. Let the dinner which was fixed for the 23rd go on. Let each minister send to Lord Harrowby's in the course of the morning his dispatch box, containing a brace of loaded pistols. Let a strong body of police be admitted and concealed even from the servants ; and when the conspirators came let them be shot down or made prisoners. It is a matter of history that the Duke's suggestions were not adopted, and that the conspirators, attacked in their garret in Cato Street, were overpowered and afterwards executed. But the Duke, who told the story as we have now repeated it, would never admit that there was any thing ex- travagant or alarming in his proposition. " Persons suddenly 1818. THE queen's TRIAL. 351 confronting danger where they least expect to find it, lose their heads, particularly if they know that they are acting against the law. I believe that we should have taken or destroyed them all, without the smallest injury to any one of us." The Cato Street Conspiracy brought by its exposure a consider- able accession of strength to the Ministerial party. It might have enabled them, had they taken proper advantage of it, to pursue a course of gradual, and therefore safe, reform in the institutions of the country. But the disputes between the King and the Queen in- tervened : and ministers, believing themselves bound to stand by the sovereign, changed into a political struggle what ought to have been a mere family quarrel. Time has, we believe, assigned to the parties in that dispute their proper places. A profligate and selfish prince, pre- vented from ridding himself by legitimate means of a profligate and violent princess, did his best, by means which were not legitimate, to crush her ; and his ministers, weakly lending themselves to his humours, stretched the law to the utmost and failed. The Queen became, as was to be expected, the people's idol. She stood before them as an oppressed wife, and they supported her the more eagerly that her oppressor was an unpopular monarch. They supported also, as mobs usually support, their own views of things, by offering violence and insult to all whom they suspected of differing from them. When the Bill of Pains and Penalties was withdrawn, London became a scene of riot and disorder. Every other member of the administration when recognised in the streets was hooted, and even pelted. The house of every other minister was assailed and had its windows broken To the honour of the Queen's friends be it recorded that the Duke suffered no outrage either in person or property. This may fairly be attributed to two causes : first, that as yet the services which he had rendered to the country in war were not forgotten ; and next that he had taken little part in a struggle of which he entirely disapproved. Once and once only he consented to visit the Queen's Attorn ey-Greneral, with a view, if possible, to arrange terms of compromise : but the nego- tiation failing, he held aloof, as far as a Cabinet Minister could, from active proceedings in the case. Not that he escaped censure altogether. He had been recently advanced to the lord-lieutenancy of Hampshire, the duties of which he discharged to the end of his life with exemplary regularity. Now in Hampshire, as elsewhere, a movement was made to get up a county meeting for the purpose of addressing the Queen, on which, as was to be expected, the Duke threw cold water. For this he was assailed in the House of Lords by one of the opposition peers, who alluded to certain high autho- rities as exercising their influence to stifle the expression of public 352 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1818. opinion in their counties. The Duke had spoken but once since the proceedings against the Queen began, and that only to explain an Austrian custom relative to the wearing of uniforms. He now rose, and pointed out that a petition in the Queen's favour had already been presented from Hampshire, with 9000 signatures attached, and then added, " that he did not see what good purpose could be served after that by going through the farce of a county meeting." No doubt the expression was a rash one. Had he been more accustomed to parliamentary tactics, he never would have made use of it, however honestly he might be convinced that county meetings, in such cases, were farces, and nothing else. But it fell from him without a moment given for reflection, and he may be said never to have heard the last of it. Not only did the leaders of the opposition ring the changes on it at the time, but on every future occasion, when he found it necessary to oppose some popular dekision, the sajdng was cast in his teeth ; and the corollary drawn from it, that he entertained no respect for the opinions of the people, because he was unacquainted with the prin- ciples of the constitution under which they lived, and less than in- different to it. It is to this period that the proper beginnings may be traced back of two separate movements, which, had they been wisely dealt with, might have averted the hurricane of party contest, which by and by passed over the empire, and of which the end is not yet. In the session which was abruptl}'' closed by the death of Greorge III., the borough of Grrampound had been convicted of bribery, and a bill was brought in to disfranchise the place, to which no serious opposition could be offered. This year the sub- ject was again taken up, and on the 9th of May Lord John Eussell proposed three resolutions to the effect — 1st, that the people were dissatisfied with the representation as it then existed ; 2nd, that boroughs convicted of bribery should be disfranchised ; and 3rd, that the members taken from these boroughs should be given to populous places not at that time represented. In the spirit of the last of these resolutions, the House of Commons voted that the members from Grampound should be transferred to Leeds. But the motion was resisted in the House of Lords, and instead of con- ferring the franchise on Leeds, two additional members were given to the county of York. The reform party was by no means satis- fied with the result, though they wisely acquiesced in it. They had gained a standing point, which was something ; they resolved to rest upon it for a season, and to watch their opportunity for demanding more. 1818. FIRST STEPS IN FREE TRADE. 353 There is nothing, as far as we have been able to discover in the Duke's papers, to show how he felt on this occasion. Popular belief — or to speak more correctly, popular prejudice — describes him as opposed to change at every stage in his career ; and there- fore as acquiescing in the disfranchisement of Grampound with re- luctance. We venture to doubt the truth of this assumption ; and we shall have occasion by and by to show that if such was his feeling in 1820, it had undergone considerable modification a few years later. The second movement originated in two petitions — one pre- sented by Mr. Baring from the merchants of London, another forwarded from the Chamber of Commerce in Glasgow by Mr. Kirk- man Finlay. These prayed for an open trade with China and India, as well as for the repeal of the usury laws and a reduction in the duties upon various articles imported from the continent of Europe. It was the first step in the direction of free trade, and it was rejected ; not so much because Lord Liverpool opposed it in the Upper, and Lord Castlereagh in the Lower House, as because it was held by large majorities in both Houses to be incompatible with certain assumed peculiarities in the commercial and political condition of Great Britain. There were questions involved in the discussion which the Duke did not pretend at that time to have stu- died. But his future proceedings show that his bias was against the removal of protection from native industry ; and to the opening of the trade with China he entertained to the last insuperable objec- tions. He took no further share in the debates, however, than to vote with his party; and the queen's trial coming on, to the utter confusion of all other topics, the subject dropped of its own accord. Meanwhile, the political state of the continent had become such as to excite the liveliest apprehension among all lovers of order and good government. The kingdoms of Spain and Portugal, de- ceived by their sovereigns, and torn by the strife of factions, broke into revolt, which led to the establishment in the former of an ultra-liberal constitution, and in the latter of a regency, acting by the authority of a Cortes. The authors of these revolutions were in both countries men destitute of influence, except that which their position happened to give them for the moment. Their party, consisting of the army, of a few merchants and lawyers, and of the mob of great towns, constituted but a small minority in the population of each country ; for the peasantry were almost to a man in favour of despotism, and the priesthood sided with the peasantry. But after various vicissitudes the active minority pre- vailed over the inert majority. In Portugal the change was less violent than in Spain. It set up the authority of a central junta A A 354 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1818. as representing the king, proclaimed the constitntion, and dis- missed from the service Marshal Eeresford, with all who remained of his British officers; and it is fair to add, that the people appeared to acquiesce quietly in the arrangements. The spirit of change went further in Spain, for it confiscated the property of the religious houses, abolished tithes, and sent the Jesuits into banish- ment ; while the reins of government were seized by men whom twelve years at the galleys had not imbued with any deep respect for regal authority in general, or for that of King Ferdinand in particular. Then followed the calling together of a Cortes, elected upon the principle of universal suffrage ; the arrest and execution of obnoxious individuals ; and a threat of declaring the throne vacant if the King should refuse his assent to such measures as the legislative body might require him to confirm. The spark struck in the Spanish peninsula was not slow of spreading elsewhere. Italy, from one extremity to another, broke into a flame, for which indeed the labours of the Carbonari and other secret societies had long prepared it. In Sardinia, the Sovereign had actually taken steps to improve the laws and esta- blish a constitution. In the two Sicilies, the King, after promising much, had assumed, whether voluntarily or on compulsion from without, a policy of repression. Yet both states shared alike. The armies of Spain and Portugal had given freedom to their respective countries. The armies of Sardinia and of the two Sicilies pro- claimed in like manner the Spanish constitution, and forced their princes to subscribe to it. If the movement had ended there it is just possible that order might have been educed out of confusion, and Spain and Portugal and the Italian States might have settled by degrees into consti- tutional monarchies. But the Emperor of Eussia, who since 1814 had given a great impulse to the progress of liberalism, received this same year a shock, which arrested him suddenly in the course on which he had entered, and drove him into its opposite. Poland, to which, after its union with Eussia, he had restored its diet, sud- denly turned round on him. All the measures proposed by his servants were rejected, and the national army which he had uu- wisely separated from the imperial army, exhibited sympjtoms of having caught the disease which raged elsewhere. The Czar appealed to the terms of the Holy Alliance, and gave them a meaning which at the outset they were not intended to bear. He invited the crowned heads to meet him personally, or by their re- presentatives, first at Trappau, and by and by at Laybach, in order to settle in congress the affairs of Europe, and restore to its sove- reigns their just rights. 1818. STATE OF THE CONTINENT. 355 We are not required to describe minutely all that occurred on these occasions. Enough is done when we state, that though Sir Charles Stewart, afterwards Marquis of Londonderry, who then filled the place of British ambassador at Vienna, attended, he was instructed in no way to commit himself to measures of repression, and that he adhered faithfully to his instructions. Indeed it was now, that there began that severance between the policy of England and of the great powers of the continent, which ended at last in something like estrangement. Equally with the most despotic of them all, England lamented the violence which had characterised the revolutions in the Spanish and Italian peninsulas, and would have willingly joined in any attempt to obtain by mediation an adjustment of the antagonistic claims of the sovereigns and their peoples. But she refused point blank to be a party to armed in- tervention, and protested against it. With the march of the Austrian armies into Italy, and the rapid overthrow of the governments set up by the military classes there, we are not now concerned. The progress of events was watched with interest by the Duke, and it would be unjust to his memory if we were to disguise the fact, that he was perfectly satisfied with its results. For it was one of his maxims that military men have no right, as such, even to criticise the governments which they serve ; and that no government which is established suddenly and by violence can long work for the benefit of a nation. Though therefore he felt that the anxieties under which they then laboured, were in a great measure the consequences of violated pledges, he did not refuse to the sovereigns whose battles he had formerly fought an honest sympathy. But other and more startling causes of alarm were at hand. France reeled on the brink of a convulsion. The constitution, originally granted in 1815, had undergone re- peated modifications, and one minister after another had striven in vain to give a direction to the deliberations of the legislature. The Due de Eichelieu made way for M. de Cases. M. de Cases, driven out of office at the period of the Due de Berri's assassination, was again succeeded by the Due de Eichelieu, and he, after a long struggle, retired, and was succeeded by M. de Villele. Beset with difficulties, M. de Villele managed, upon the whole, to steer his course wisely. By excellent management he gained an ascendancy over both chambers, and established thereby the principle that, in a constitutional monarchy, the leader of the majority in parliament should be also the head of the government. Out of doors he put down numerous conspiracies; and if he showed, perhaps, some weak- ness in declining to prosecute the leaders, the position of many of these, and of M. Lafayette among the rest, may well be accepted as A A 2 356 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1818. his apology. In his foreign policy, on the other hand, he was less successful. Under the pretence of guarding against the spread of yellow fever, a cordon of troops had for some time been drawn along the Spanish frontier, which M. de Villele was persuaded to increase till it became an army of observation, and which there were those in his cabinet who were already pressing him to employ in the suppression of liberal government in Spain itself. Among English statesmen, none watched the ebbs and flows in French politics with deeper interest than the Duke of Wellington. He knew that if the revolutionary spirit were to succeed in France, nothing could save Europe from a repetition of scenes the prospect of which could not be contemplated without horror. On the other hand he dreaded well-nigh as much, the triumph of those principles which, in the end, cost the Bourbons their throne ; but to which every member of the family except the King himself appeared to be wedded. In what spirit he dealt with these questions, when the legitimate opportunity of handling them was afforded, we shall take occasion presently to show. Meanwhile we return to the thread of our narrative. 1821. GEOEGE IV. CEOWNED. 357 CHAP. XXVi. THE COEONATION". — THE aUEEN's DEATH AND FTJNERAL. — THE DUKE VISITS PARIS. — CONDUCTS GEOEGE IV. OVEE, THE FIELD OF WATERLOO. — PARTIAL CHANGES IN THE MINISTRY. — THE DUKE BEGINS TO TAKE PART IN THE DE- BATES. — DEATH OP LORD CASTLEREAGH. — THE DUKE AND WILLIAM ALLEN. — CONGRESS OF VERONA. — THE DUKE AT PARIS. — HIS INSTRUCTIONS TO LORD FITZROY SOMERSET. Amid such scenes as have just been described, — amid disaffection and tumult at home, and trouble and the dread of change abroad, — the two first years of the Duke's life as a statesman were spent. Whatever might be the feelings of the other members of the Cabi- net, he appears never to have entertained any serious apprehension in regard to England. He believed that the distress under w^hich the people were suffering would pass away. He distrusted in no degree the loyalty of the nation, and, like Lord Castlereagh, he anticipated that the mob itself would soon grow tired of cheering the Queen, and uttering seditious cries as they passed the gates of Carl- ton House. Events fully bore him out in all these anticipations. With 1821 came a revival of trade and manufactures ; and political agitation, which, in this country at least, takes its rise for the most part in the want of employment, died out as men found better use for their time. Not that the desire of change in the repre- sentation of the country was laid aside. On the contrary it gained fresh adherents from day to day, because the tenant-farmers of England, with a considerable portion of the landowners, still suf- fered ; and being unable by any other means to obtain redress for their grievances, they, like the operatives, began to speak of par- liamentary reform as a panacea for all the ills to which the nation was liable. Hence, when Lord John Eussell brought forward his annual motion upon the subject, the majority against him, in a full house, was only 105 — a remarkable sign of the change which had taken place in men's minds, and a sure proof that, as far as England is concerned, revolutions, or the attempt to effect them, have for the most part a much more intimate connection with the stomachs than with the understandings of the people. It was under such circumstances that the coronation of George IV. took place ; a ceremonial which had been determined upon the A A 3 358 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1821. previous year, but which their own unpopularity as well as that of their royal master had induced the ministers to defer. It went off with perfect success. An attempt on the part of the Queen to force herself into the Abbey was resisted, and she saw, in spite of some cheers from the lowest of the rabble, that her day was over. His- tory has recorded how her proud heart broke under the anguish of the disappointment, which was the more bitter because it had not been anticipated ; and how, bearing her resentments with her to the grave, she left directions that her remains should be conveyed to Brunswick, and buried there. It seemed, too, a,s if in her death, not less than in her life, that unfortunate princess was to be the occasion of turmoil in England. The government, not refusing to her the last resting-place which she had chosen, directed that the funeral procession should pursue a particular route towards the coast. The London mob determined that it should proceed by another. A tumult ensued, the military escort fired upon the people, and three lives were lost. Upon this, the magistrate, un- willing to shed more blood, gave orders that the will of the mob should be obeyed. The Queen's body was carried through the heart of the city, and the authority of government suffered out- rage. The Duke was not in London when these events befell. It was the season of the year when, in the absence of more pressing de- mands upon his time, he was accustomed to visit the fortresses in the Netherlands ; and he had embarked for that purpose on the 10th of August, the day before Greorge IV. crossed from Holyhead to Dublin. He proceeded, after completing his tour of inspection, to Paris, where he had a long and interesting conversation with Louis XVIIL, who, as well as M. de Villele, consulted him on the state of Europe generally, and of the peninsular nations in parti- cular. The French King had been urgently pressed by the northern powers to make common cause with them by withdrawing his minister from Madrid, as they proposed to withdraw theirs. But the Duke argued so strongly against the measure, pointing out the consequences which must inevitably follow, that the King, who had well-nigh yielded to other solicitations, changed his mind. It was agreed that a plan of mediation should be concerted with England, which might, it was hoped, lead to such modifications in the Spa- nish constitution as would be acceptable to all concerned ; and in the meanwhile the King promised to take no steps which might have a tendency to hurry on a crisis which he still believed to be inevitable. " Louis XVIIL," says M, Guizot, " placed confidence in the judgment and friendly feeling of the Duke of Wellington. He closed the debate in council, however, by saying, ' Louis XIV. 1821. PARTIAL CHANGE OP ADMINISTEATION". 359 levelled the Pyrenees ; I shall not allow them to be raised again. He placed my family on the throne of Spain, I cannot let them fall. The other sovereigns have not the same duties to fulfil. My ambassador ought not to quit Madrid until the day when 100,000 Frenchmen are on their march to replace him.' " The Duke's visit to Paris, if not quite so successful as he wished, cannot be said to have been fruitless. At least it secured delay in the execution of a project, which, had there been any moderation in the councils of the Spanish insurrectionary government, or any instinct of command in the Spanish King, might have been averted altogether. It was followed by an incident which is interesting- only so far as it furnished the Duke, in after life, with an oppor- tunity of telling a story to which his peculiar manner of expressino- himself gave remarkable zest. Greorge IV., after visiting his Irish subjects, proceeded to Hanover; and passing through Brussels 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, till I showed him where Lord Anglesey's leg was buried, and then he burst into tears." It was about this time that, with a view to strengthen himself in the House of Commons, Lord Liverpool effected some changes in the personnel of his administration. Among other ai'range- ments he proposed to send the Duke of Wellington as Lord Lieu- tenant to Ireland. But to this the Duke made objection. He had not yet arrived at any settled conviction in regard to the expediency of repealing or retaining the laws which excluded Eoman Catholics from Parliament. The general tenor of his cor- respondence between 1805 and 1808 shows that his views, in regard to that point, were anything but illiberal ; and he had lived since then too much abroad, and been brought too closely into connection with Roman Catholic statesmen, to believe that a man, because he is a Roman Catholic, is therefore untrustworthy. He saw, however, that there were many difficulties in the way of a settlement of that question ; and in 1821 believed the risks to be so evenly balanced that he could not consent to play a part which might commit him, prematurely, to one course or the other. He declined, therefore, the viceroyalty, to which Earl Talbot was ap- pointed. At the same time he made no objection to act with the Grenvillites, avowed champions, as they were, of Catholic emanci- pation, though his personal predilections went more decidedly with Mr. Peel, then a young and rising statesman, whom Lord A A 4 360 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1821. Liverpool brought in, as successor to Lord Sidmouth, at the Home Office. For one man, however, perhaps the ablest of them all, though not, it must be acknowledged, the truest to his party, no place could be found. Mr. Canning had withdrawn from the govern- ment at the period of the Queen's trial, and, for reasons into which it is unnecessary to enter, he was not now invited to return to it. And here it may be observed, that the head of the administra- tion was not, nor had ever been, a personal favourite with the King. George IV. never, it is believed, saw Lord Liverpool, even officially, if he could help it ; he would send for the Duke of Wellington when any difficult question arose, and convey through him, or through Lord Castlereagh, his wishes to his ministers. On the other hand the Duke exercised over the King as much influence as it was possible to exercise over a man so constituted. If the King did not invariably act on the advice which the Duke offered, he seems never to have questioned either its honesty or its wisdom ; and he took in good part many an observation which, though always respectfully delivered, was not always palatable. The great domestic difficulties of the day were the Catholic Question and the general condition of Ireland. They were both in a very unsatisfactory state, nor could the most sanguine arrive at any other conclusion than that before things became better they would probably grov/ worse. For not the Houses of Parliament only, but the Cabinet itself, were strangely divided in regard to both. Mr. Canning, whether in or out of office, had been the steady advocate of a policy of concession, and this year he brought in a bill for the admission of Eoman Catholic peers to seats in the House of Lords. The bill passed the lower, but was rejected in the Upper House. In the debate arising out of it the Duke took no part. But he spoke in defence of the measures of coercion which the government considered it necessary to apply to Ireland, and he was listened to with respect. On foreign affairs he said little, though they also were embarrassing in the extreme. The truth is, that as yet he distrusted his own powers as a debater. His expe- rience in the House of Lords scarcely extended over three years, and the little which he might have learned in the House of Com- mons, other and more stirring scenes had to a great extent oblite- rated. But the time was not far distant when a sense of duty must teach him to override this bashfulness, and a melancholy event which occurred in the autumn of 1822 hurried it forward. The Marquis of Londonderry, better known as Lord Castle- reagh, was then Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs. He had long been on terms of close intimacy with the Duke, who regarded him as the ablest, as he was beyond all comparison the bravest. 1822. DEATH OP LORD LONDONDEEEY. 361 of Ills colleagues. As the session wore on, Lord Londonderry exhibited many symptoms of a mind overworked. He became querulous in Parliament, taciturn and gloomy at meetings of the Cabinet ; and expressed great uneasiness about a meeting of crowned heads and ministers at Vienna, where he had engaged to be present. The circumstance appears to have created very little apprehension among any other members of the government than the Duke. He looked upon it gravely, and advised Lord London- derry to consult his medical attendant. Indeed he did more, for he wrote to Dr. Bankhead, and suggested that some excuse should be made for visiting Lord Londonderry at his own house, and watching him closely. The results are well known. In spite of all the care which was taken to remove instruments of destruction out of the patient's way, he contrived to get hold of a penknife, with which in a moment of delirium he destroyed himself. No words can describe the effect produced by this catastrophe on English society in general, and among the members of the cabinet in particular. Though differing from some of them on various points, and especially in his desire to admit Roman Catholics into Parliament, Lord Londonderry was held by them all in the highest esteem and respect. The great characteristic of his nature was truth. He might be right or wrong in the opinions which he en- tertained, but he entertained none, or at all events did not advocate any, of the soundness of which he was not himself convinced. Of the slightest approach to finesse or intrigue he was incapable. This quality it was, indeed, which, while it commanded for him the steady friendship of the Duke of Wellington, rendered his in- tercourse with Mr. Canning always slippery, and for a time severed it. He was not popular as a minister ; it was hardly possible that he should be, for he had no sympathy with cant in any form, and was prone to express himself frankly in regard to it. But his views were those of a thorouo^h Enoflish statesman of the school in which he had been bred. He had ever at heart the dignity of the Crown, and the honour and welfare of the nation. As a speaker he laid himself continually open to the sort of small criticism which, while it fastens upon inaccuracies of expression, rarely ventures to deal with sentiment or with principle. Yet he was complete master of the House of Commons, for even Mr. Brougham paid more deference to the manly statements of the Foreign Secretary than to the eloquent reasoning or brilliant sarcasm of any other speaker on the ministerial benches.* * It is not generally known that the success of the Allies over Napoleon in the campaign of 1814, was mainly owing to the wisdom in council and the decision in 362 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLIJfGTON. 1822. In consequence of the reluctance expressed by Lord London- derry to undertake the mission to Vienna, it had for some time action of Lord Castlereagh. The following letter from one who was present at the events which he describes, puts this matter in a very clear point of view. Letter from Lord Eipon to Lord Londonderry. " July 6, 1839. " I would also refer to another occasion, on which the vigour of Lord Londonderi-y's mind in a moment of difficulty and hesitation, was attended with the most important results. You may remember the uneasiness which prevailed in the councils of the allied cabinets, after the success with which Buonaparte, having repelled ■vv-ith great loss the isolated movements of Bliicher's first march upon Paris, afterwards fell upon the advanced divisions of the grand army beyond the Seine. The spirit of the allied forces was somewhat damped, the population in the rear of their line of operations showed strong indications of a resolution to carry on a desultory guerilla war upon their communications, and the more timid advisers began to talk of the policy of retiring behind the Ehine. That such a step would have proved fatal to the success of the campaign was obvious ; but it was no less obvious that some new course of operations must be adopted, aU the separate movements of the grand army, and of that commanded by Bliicher, upon Paris, having hitherto failed in attaining that point. The fact was, that from his central position between the lines operated upon by those armies, Napoleon was enabled to fall with his main strength upon each of them separately ; and as, at that moment, they were not both of them singly equal in force to his concentrated means, the advantage was greatly on his side ; and he well knew how to avail himself of it. The army commanded by Bliicher was much inferior in numbers to that commanded by Prince Schwartzenberg, and the thing to be done, therefore, was to reinforce Bliicher to such an extent, as to insure the success of his futm-e movements as far as numbers could insm'e it. No time was to be lost. But from whence were the reinforcements to be drawn ? There was nothing immediately at hand but a small body of Eussians, under General St. Priest, who were on their march to Rheims to join the corps to which they belonged in Bliicher's army ; and they were manifestly insirfficient for the purpose. But there were two other strong corps : one of Prussians under General Bidow, and one of Eussians under Winzin- gerode, who were on their march into France from Flanders, and might be brought forward with decisive effect. They, however, belonged to the army of the Cro-\vn Prince of Sweden, who had not, I think, at that time, personally crossed the Ehine ; they were under his orders, and he was very tenacious of his authority over them ; and when it was suggested that the only mode of adequately reinforcing Bliicher was to place these corps at his disposal without a moment's delay, the difficulty of withdrawing them from Bernadotte's command without a previous and probably te- dious discussion with him, was urged by a great authority as insurmoimtahle. Lord Londonderry was present at the council when this matter was discussed; and the moment he understood that, militarily speaking, the proposed plan was indispensable to success, he took his line. He stated that, in that case, the plan must be adopted, and the necessaiy orders immediately given ; that England had a right to expect that her Allies would not be deterred from a decisive course by any such difficulties as had been urged; and he boldly took upon himself all the responsibility of any conse- quences that might arise as regarded the Crown Prince of Sweden. His advice pre- vailed: Bliicher's army was reinforced in time; the battle of Laon was fought success- fully, and no further efforts of Buonaparte could oppose the march of the Allies on Paris, and their triumphant occupation of that city. " It is not then too much to say, that the vigour and energy displayed by Lord Londonderry in this crisis decided the fiite of the campaign. And had he been an ordinary man, without the talent to discern what the exigency of the moment required, without capacity to enforce its adoption, or without that influence over 1822. MR. CANNING IN THE CABINET. 363 been settled that England should be represented at the congress there by the Duke of Wellington. He had begun to make his preparations when a severe illness fell upon him, from which he did not sufficiently recover to set out upon his journey till after Lord Londonderry's death. That melancholy event brought back Mr. Canning to the administration. After remaining for some time an independent member of Parliament, he had accepted the high office of Grovernor-Gfeneral of India, and was about to embark for the scene of his labours when the catastrophe at Foot's Cray occurred. Mr. Canning was not a favourite with a large and influential section of the Cabinet. His views on many subjects were too liberal for them ; they regarded him besides as more intent on gratifying his own ambition than on pro- moting what they believed to be the best interests of the country. But his relations with the head of the administration were of long standing. They had served together under Pitt; and the superior genius of Canning naturally obtained an as- cendency over the somewhat common-place mind of Lord Liver- pool. As soon, therefore, as Lord Londonderry's death had re- moved the chief obstacle to Mr. Canning's return to office. Lord Liverpool proposed to bring him in. The proposal was received with coldness by a very influential section of the Cabinet, and the Duke's judgment was appealed to. Now the Duke had little con- fidence in Mr. Canning. He admired his abilities, but distrusted his principles. His intercourse with many of the leaders of the opposition was too familiar and confidential to satisfy the Duke, to whose nature every approach to intrigue was abhorrent. On the other hand, he felt that not to command the services of such a man at such a moment, would be to lose them for ever. He there- fore advised Lord Liverpool to persevere in his own intention, and to offer to Mr. Canning a seat in the Cabinet. The offer was at once accepted, and Mr. Canning, a good deal to the disgust both of the opposition and of some of his colleagues, became Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs, and leader of the House of Commons.* The purpose for which a congress had been called at Vienna, was to consider the state both of Europe and of South America ; and to arrange, if possible, some common plan of action by which the others which ensured their cordial co-operation, who can say how different the result might have been, or how long the pacification of the world might have been delayed ? " Excuse me for troubling you with so long a letter ; and believe me, my dear Lord Londonderry, " Ever most truly yoiu-s, " ErpoN." * MS. correspondence between the Duke and Lord Liverpool. 364 MEMOIR OP THE DUKE OP WELLINGTON. 1822. democratic spirit might be put down. The new governments of Spcain and Portugal, founded on military revolt, were especially distasteful to the sovereigns. It had been found impossible, as yet, to deal with them as Austria had dealt with revolutionary Italy ; and the difficulties of the case were enhanced by the false position in which France had placed herself towards them. The renewal of the family compact led to just such an amount of inter- ference at Madrid, as, instead of arresting the revolution, which it was intended to do, served but to aggravate its bitterness. On the one hand, the French princes and their followers en- couraged King Ferdinand to resist the movement, and all but pro- mised the support of French bayonets ; on the other, the Spanish Jacobins carried on constant communication with the revolutionary party in France. Both factions in both nations looked forward to a war, and perhaps equally desired it, as holding out the best chance of effecting the objects which they severally had in view. And so, while the French Grovernment established its cordon on the frontier, the leaders of the revolution in Spain made secret over- tures to Portugal, for the deposition, in case of need, of their own sovereign, and the junction of the whole peninsula under a consti- tutional government, with a prince of the house of Braganza at its head. It was not, however, in the West exclusively that the political horizon had become overcast. The Grreek subjects of the Ottoman Porte were in rebellion ; and a war begun in Wallachia and Mol- davia, soon spread into the Morea, and was attended by frightful cruelties. It was impossible that the Eussian army and people could look with indifference on this struggle. They were bound to the insurgents by the strong tie of a common religion ; and treaties which authorised the Czar to interfere for the protection of that religion seemed to them to sanction, if they did not positively require, his participation in the contest. Nor can it be doubted that had the Grreek revolt occurred a few years earlier, the Czar would have sustained it with all the strength of the empire. He was by no means insensible to the hereditary policy of his house. Visions of a Christian empire, of which Constantinople should be the capital, had often crossed his mind ; and if he did not seize the present favourable opportunity of realising them, it was because he was restrained by the still more urgent dread of change, with which the revolutions in Spain and Italy had impressed him. Still public opinion, which in Eussia is very strong, was continually urging him to go to war with Turkey, for which indeed the inju- dicious interference of the Divan with the trade of the Black Sea, afforded more than a plausible reason. And no one could tell how 1822. THE DUKE'S INSTRUCTIONS. 303 soon this pressure, aided by the openly avowed eagerness of the army, might force him to measures which would throw the whole of Europe into confusion. All this while hostilities went on between Spain and her South American colonies, to the extreme inconvenience of the commerce of the world, and especially to that of England. Its final results could not indeed be doubted, because the insurgents had prevailed in most of the provinces ; and in the few where Spain still asserted her authority, she was powerless beyond the limits of the camps or fortresses in occupation of the Spanish troops. Meanwhile, the sea swarmed with pirates, which, sailing vmder various flags, could neither be attacked by British cruisers, nor were amenable to any established tribunals on shore. For Spain, still claiming to be mistress of what she called the Indies, was neither strong enough herself to repress the evil, nor would she consent to its being put down by those whom she persisted in describing as rebels. Finally, England had embarked in a crusade against the slave- trade, in which she could find few nations to co-operate with her ; while Kussia had just issued an ukase by which she claimed the sovereignty of all that portion of North America which extends from Behriug's Straits to the 51st degree of N. latitude, and for- bade the ships of other nations to approach within a hundred miles of the coast. There were complications enough in these matters to try the skill and patience of the most practised diplomatist, and they received no trivial increase from the admission into the grand alliance, not of France only, but of the rulers of the lesser Grerman principalities. Nor was this all. The kings of Naples and Sar- dinia had been treated at the Congress of Laybach as members of the great family of monarchs, notwithstanding that the systems of government to which they had given in their adhesion at home were condemned. And now it was well known that their presence had been called for, to advise as to the course which should hence- forth be followed for the maintenance of order in Italy. The letter of instructions which Lord Londonderry had compiled, and which was transferred without a single alteration to the Duke of Wellington, is a very interesting document. It touches upon every point which could be expected to come under consideration at the congress, and it handles them all so as to guard with scru- pulous care, not only the honour of Great Britain, but the rights of foreign peoples as well as of their governments. It assumes that the subjects of general discussion would be three : first, the Turkish question, external and internal; secondly, the Spanish question, European and American ; and, thirdly, the affairs of Italy. 366 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1822. With this last question the representative of Grreat Britain was directed not to concern himself at all. As England had been no party to the military occupation of Naples and Sardinia, — as she had merely acquiesced in it with a view to prevent worse things, — so she felt herself precluded from advising upon the arrangement, now that it was complete, lest by so doing she should appear to admit the justice of a proceeding against which, from the outset, she had protested. The representative of Grreat Britain was, there- fore, instructed to hold aloof from all meetings at which Italian affairs were to be discussed, and, if possible, to avoid connecting himself with the congress till these should have been settled. With regard to the Turkish question, as well external as in- ternal, the course to be pursued was this. All possible measures were in the first instance to be tried, with a view to reconcile the differences between Eussia and Turkey. These connected them- selves, as we have just stated, partly with the right of protection which Russia was by treaty authorised to afford to Christianity in Turkey, and partly with certain restrictions which the Porte had recently imposed upon the navigation of the Dardanelles and the Bosphorus. When this object should have been so far attained as to avert the risk of actual collision between the two powers, then, and not till then, the condition of Grreece was to be considered. Now, Grreece had gained of late so much in the contest, that it was not easy to avoid dealing with the government which she had set lip, as with a government de facto. Still the British plenipoten- tiary was cautioned to act with great circumspection in the matter, and above all to avoid any engagement with the Allies, either to accept the Grreek government as that of an independent state, or to compel the submission of Grreece herself to the Porte by force of arms. But by far the most tangled web of the whole was that in which Spain and her affairs were wrapped up ; and not the least so, in that portion of it which embraced her relations with the revolted colonies, and the effect thereby produced upon the commerce of the world. As to the form of government which she had of late established for herself in Europe, that was a matter with which, in the opinion of the English Cabinet, no foreign power had the smallest right to interfere. It rested entirely with the King of Spain and his subjects to settle their differences, if they had any, between themselves. And this important truth the representative of Great Britain was directed to urge with all his influence upon the Allies, and especially upon France. But the case of the re- volted colonies was different. It was evident from the course which events had taken, that their recognition as independent 1822. THE SOUTH AMERICAN QUESTION. 367 states was become a mere question of time. Over by far the greater portion of them Spain had lost all hold ; and it had been found necessary, in order to admit their merchant vessels into English ports, to alter the navigation laws, both of England and Spain. The letter of instructions accordingly directed the British plenipotentiary to advocate a removal of the difficulty on this prin- ciple, — That every province which had actually established its independence should be recognised ; that with provinces in which the war still went on, no relations should be established; and that where negotiations were in progress between a revolted colony and the mother country, relations with the colony should be suspended till the results of such negotiations were known. All this, how- ever, was to be brought about only after a full explanation with Spain herself, and entirely by independent action. There was to be no concert with France or Russia or any other extraneous power in order to effect it. The policy projected was exclusively English and Spanish, and between England and Spain, and between them alone, its course was to be settled. Other nations might or mio-ht not come into the views which England entertained, but upon their approval or disapproval of her views England was not in any way to shape her conduct. Besides these more general questions England had some of her own, which the statesman who should represent her at the congress was directed to bring forward. Foremost among them all was the suppression of the slave-trade, either by a general declaration from the Allies that it should be treated as piracy, or by obtaining from them an eDgagement that they would not admit into their markets any article of colonial produce which was the result of slave labour. There was besides a claim by England upon Austria for money lent to the latter power early in the late war ; and the Russian ukase must be discussed and softened down. It will be seen from this statement of facts, that the recognition of the actual independence of many of the Spanish colonies had already been determined upon by Great Britain, and that the establishment of diplomatic relations with them all had come to be considered as a mere question of time. This is a point worthy of notice, because of the misunderstanding in regard to it which originated in a speech subsequently delivered by Mr. Canning in the House of Commons, and which still to a considerable extent prevails. It will be further observed, that the principle recognised by Lord Londonderry as the true principle, was that of non-inter- ference by Great Britain in the internal affairs of foreign nations. That the Duke of Wellington entirely coincided with Lord Lon- donderry in this respect, his conduct, both now and in the future 368 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1822. stages of his career, clearly demonstrates. The leading object of his political life was to preserve the peace at home and abroad which it had been the great end of his military life to conquer. With that object uppermost in his mind he quitted London early in September, and taking, as he had been instructed to do, Paris on his way, entered there into some interesting conferences, both with M. de Villele and the King. He gave a full account of these in his despatches to Mr. Canning, the first of which bears date the 14th of September. On the subject of the slave-trade he found M. de Villele not so much averse to co-operate with England, as unable to do so. The very fact that the abolition of the traffic had been pressed upon them by Grreat Britain rendered the French parliament and people disinclined to accede to it; and the minister could hold out no hope that his government would be able to take any steps towards fulfilling the engagements into which he admitted that they had entered. As to any benefit which might be expected to accrue to themselves from the suppression of the traffic, because of the increased value given thereby to their colonial trade, of that M. de Villele made very light. He spoke indeed of their African settlements as useless to the French people, and proposed to make them over to England in exchange for the Isle of France. But further than this he declined to go, because there were too many interests, both public and private, engaged to thwart his efforts, should he be so unwise as to make any.* The language of the French minister with regard to South America was not less vague and unsatisfactory. The question of the independence of these provinces was one on which he could not enter. England no doubt had extensive commercial relations with these provinces, but France had few or none. It might, therefore, be to the interest of the former power to treat them as independent states, whereas to the latter their independence was a matter of no consequence whatever. \Mien informed that England was making preparations to acknowledge their flags, and that she had agents employed at that moment to inquire into their actual condition, and to report upon it, his answer was, " That France had not yet entered into relations with them in any form, and did not intend to do so till they should have settled their differences with Spain one way or another." M. de Villele did not add, as he might have done, that France was feeling her way towards the severance of Spain from her colonies, and towards the establish- ment in the New World of one or two monarchies, with younger branches of the house of Bourbon at their head.f * MS. correspondence. f Ibid. 1822. CONFERENCE WITH M. DE VILLELE. 369 The third topic discussed at these conferences, and on this the Duke afterwards entered both with the King and Monsieur, was the nature of the relations then subsisting- between France and Spain, and the projects of the former power in reference to the latter. These M. de Villele explained without any reserve. He stated that under cover of the sanitary cordon, 100,000 French troops were assembled ; — that it was proposed to throw them in two columns into Spain; — that one column of 40,000 men was to pass into Catalonia, while the other, of 60,000, was to march by the great road through Irun upon Madrid. The sole object of this invasion was to insure the personal safety of the King, which was known to be at that moment in jeopardy; and to afford him the opportunity of collecting a native force, strong enough to protect him against the schemes of the revolutionists, and enable him to establish such a constitution as the genius of the people seemed to require. France, the Duke was assured, entertained no views of conquest or aggrandisement, or even of prolonged occupation. She would withdraw her troops whenever the King of Spain should say that he was able to do without them, and render up every town and inch of territory of which they might have taken possession. Now, the invasion by France of Spain, on any pretext whatever, except only in the event of a breach of the peace on the part of the latter power, was a contingency to which the Duke steadily opposed himself. He pointed out that the step would be, not only unjust in itself, but impolitic; — that if the French Government wished to hurry on the catastrophe of which they seemed to be afraid, they could not adopt a surer mode of doing so than by the invasion ; just as the death of Louis XVI. and his family had been precipitated by the Duke of Brunswick's proclamation, and the entrance of his army into France; — that the revolutionists would probably remove Ferdinand from Madrid as soon as they heard of the passing of the frontier by French troops ; and that even if these troops should reach the capital, Spain would not therefore submit, nor would Ferdinand be set at liberty. Nor did he stop there. A war between France and Spain for such a purpose as that contemplated would, he argued, combine against the French Government all the discontented spirits of both nations. It would be pronounced to be a war to put down free institutions ; in which, if France should seek the support of her Allies, the only one among them which could boast of free institutions would feel it her duty to meet such request with a refusal. What must follow? Europe would be ranged into two hostile camps ; that of absolu- tism on the one side, and of revolution on the other, amid which^ B B 370 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1822. not thrones only, but settled governments in every form might be overthrown.* The Duke's reasoning startled both M. de Villele and the King. It was evident that they had not before looked at the question in all its bearings, and that the probable consequence of a call for support by France upon the Allies had failed to strike them. But that, as the Duke showed, must necessarily give offence to all orders and classes of Frenchmen ; for if it meant anything, it must mean, that the French Grovernment distrusted either the military qualities or the fidelity of its own troops. Accordingly the King and M. de Villele made haste to assure the Duke, that whatever France might do in the matter, she should do single-handed ; and that she would not only not apply for assistance from without, but that if such assistance were offered, she would refuse it. So far the Duke's diplomacy had gained something. It was a great matter for the peace of the world to confine the quarrel, if quarrel there must be, within as narrow a space as possible ; and above all to hinder the Czar from marching in force, as he made no secret of his anxiety to do, through Grermany into Western Europe. The Duke could not, however, prevail upon the French Grovernment to refrain from bringing the question between France and Spain before the Congress. The King and M. de Villele both contended that vast moral good would accrue from a joint remonstrance on the part of the Allies against the treatment to which the King of Spain was subjected, and a joint threat, that if any violence were offered to his person or family, all would unite to avenge the out- rage. The Duke was, therefore, forced to withdraw from the conferences, after he had explained that Grreat Britain would never assume without proof that violence was, or could be, intended by Spain to her royal family ; that she would never be brought to declai-e beforehand, what she might or might not do in any hypo- thetical case ; and that if other governments took a different course, they would, in his opinion, do violence to the law of nations. Fi- nally he showed, that if the purpose of the projDOsed agreement was to hinder Spain, through the influence of fear, from perpe- trating a great crime, the whole transaction must necessarily be made public ; and he took the liberty of adding, from his acquaint- ance with their national character, that Spaniards were as little likely to be deterred by threats from what they had resolved to do, as any people under the sun. Having accomplished his mission in Paris, and made a report of his proceedings to Mr. Canning, the Duke pursued his journey * The dike's MS. coi'respondence. 1822. THE DUKE AND THE EMPEROR OF RUSSIA. 371 to Vienna, in which city he arrived on the 29th of September. Here he found to his surprise, and by no means to his satisfaction, that the monarchs had agreed to meet in congress elsewhere ; that instead of proceeding to business in Vienna, they had transferred the seat of their deliberations to Verona; and that they were spending the interval between the adjournment from one city, and the gathering in another, on a visit of friendship with the King of Bavaria. It was obvious enough why this change of place had been effected. Every petty Italian prince might present himself without exciting surprise at Verona ; whereas, a large assemblage of such personages in Vienna could not fail to attract the attention of the outer world ; and the Duke's instructions prohibited him from giving any countenance to Italian discussions, by being so much as present at them. He made up his mind, therefore, to abide where he was till he should receive further advices from home, though in the letter which announced his intention of doing so he expressed an opinion that it would be politic to join the other plenipotentiaries in Verona, avoiding, as he would have done at Vienna, to communicate with them on Italian subjects. The influence of Russia over the general affairs of Europe was at that time immense. The great sacrifices which she had made during the late war ; the enormous armies which she had brought, and was still able to bring, into the field ; and quite as much per- haps as either, the personal character of the Emperor Alexander, rendered her virtually mistress of every situation. It was of the greatest importance, under such circumstances, to win over the Czar to a policy of peace ; and the Duke sought and found an early opportunity of conversing with him confidentially, and in private. The first meeting took place on the 3rd of October, when they discussed together the Turkish question, particularly with reference to some ground of offence which the Emperor discovered towards the late Lord Strangford, then English minister at the Sublime Porte. The Duke was fortunate enough to convince the Emperor that Lord Strangford had not taken the part of Turkey as against Eussia, and to obtain from his imperial majesty an assurance, that unless driven to it by some unforeseen and irresistible necessity, he would not come to an open rupture with the Sultan. Satisfied with what he had effected in this matter, the Duke again met the Emperor a day or two afterwards, and entered with him into a long and unreserved consideration of the state of Spain, and of the best means of dealing with it. He found the Emperor much less tractable on that head than he had been on the subject of Turkish affairs. Spain was, according to the Czar's view of the case, the very centre and focus of revolutionary principles ; B B 2 372 MEMOIE OF THE DUKE OP WELLINGTON. 1822. and it had become the duty, not less than it was the policy, of the allied sovereigns, to trample them out at their source. Entertaining these opinions, he was decidedly in favour of armed interference, towards rendering which effective, he proposed to contribute 150,000 men. When the Duke proceeded to ask whether his imperial majesty had received any assurance that France would grant a free passage through her territory to so large a force, the Czar replied that though he had received no such assurance, he could not entertain any doubt on the subject; because the same process which sufficed to extinguish Jacobinism in Spain would effectually prevent the spark from igniting in France itself. It • was now that the Duke turned to excellent account the knowledge which he had obtained of the feelings of the French Government in regard to that point, at his interviews with the King and M. de Villele in Paris. He assured the Emperor that France would not only not permit, but that she would resist, the march of Russians or any other foreign troops through her territory ; and he did not fail to add, that in his opinion, she had arrived at a wise conclusion in so determining. The Czar was startled by the Duke's announce- ment. The possible effect of reaction on the minds of the French people had not occurred to him till the Duke adverted to it ; and after remaining silent for a while, he took a somewhat different line, though still pointing in the same direction. "WTiat was he to do with his army ? It insisted upon being led against Turkey, and was only restrained because the Czar had expressed his deter- mination to employ it in putting down Jacobinism in the West. How should he be able to pacify or keep it in good humour, if he abstained from armed interference in the affairs of Spain ? That was a question which the Duke had neither the power nor the will to answer. He met it therefore by stating, that the Grovernment of his Britannic Majesty was determined not to interfere between the King of Spain and his subjects ; — that it could not assent to interference by any other foreign power ; — that England had learned a lesson in her dealings with Sicily which she was not likely to forget, for that the constitution which she gave to that island, though framed upon the model of her own, had completely broken down as soon as the British troops were withdrawn. He therefore strongly advised his imperial majesty to abstain from acts of violence against Spain, which country, he was satisfied, would do nothing to provoke a war, and if it did, might safely be left to France, with whom alone it was geographically in the power of Spain to come into collision. The views of the English Cabinet coinciding entirely with his own — that it would be unbecoming to withdraw from the Congress 1822. WILLIAM ALLEN. 373 merely because its locality had been changed — the Duke, after rather more than a fortnight's sojourn in Vienna, went forward to Verona. And here a little incident occurred, which may not in itself deserve notice, but which, because it was highly characteristic both of the individual and of the times, can scarcely be passed over. Among the most earnest and active of those who advocated the suppression of the slave-trade was William Allen, a quaker gentleman, remarkable in his day for benevolence and eccentricity. Every public man among his own countr3anen knew him, and he had been in correspondence with almost all the leading princes and statesmen of the Continent. The Duke was therefore more amused than surprised when Mr. Allen waited upon him at his hotel one morning, and addressed him thus : — " Friend, I must go to Verona." Duke. — " That is impossible ; haven't you read the order, that nobody is to be allowed to enter the town unless he belong to one of the embassies ?" Allen. — " PYiend, I must go to Verona, and thou must enable me to do so." Duke. — " How can I do that ? YcJu don't hold any office, and I have none to give you." Allen. — "Friend, I must go to Verona, and thou must carry me thither." Duke. — " Well, if I must, I must ; but the only thing I can do for you is to make you one of my couriers. If you like to ride as my courier, you may do so." Allen. — *' Friend, I told thee that I must go to Verona, and that thou must carry me thither ; I will ride as thou desirest, and am ready to set out immediately." And the quaker did ride as the Duke's avant-courier ; and, reaching his destination before the Duke, introduced himself to the Emperors of Austria and Russia and the other crowned heads, and lectured them all round on the iniquity of the traffic in negroes. The Duke arrived at Verona on the 15th of October. It was crowded with the elite of European society. We need not stop now to describe the constant succession of gaieties which marked the progress of every day while the Congress lasted. Never since the foundations of the old city were laid had Verona witnessed scenes of such surpassing brilliancy ; for even a troop of practised comedians had not been forgotten ; and balls and theatrical representations carried far into the night scenes half of business, half of pleasure, which renewed themselves morning B B 3 374 MEMOIK OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1822. after morning, to the great apparent delight of all Avho took part in them. Into the round of gaiety, which never slackened, no one threw himself with greater abandon than the Duke of Wellington. Fond of society, and especially of the society of beautiful and gifted women, he met in the frankest manner all the advances that were made to him ; and indulged to his heart's content in that interchange of pleasant sayings and doings, in which few public men of his day knew better than himself how to take part. And it is worthy of remark, that more than all the other diplomatists assembled there, he was courted and caressed ; not merely because of the renown which attached to him personally, but because it was hoped to work through his self-love upon his temper, and thus to render the policy of England, concerning which much anxiety prevailed, more in unison than it might otherwise be with that of the continental governments. But the politicians, female as well as male, who indulged in these speculations entirely mistook their man. To whatever weaknesses he might be liable — and he was not exempt from the short-comings of human nature — the Duke was so far rdaster of himself, that he never gave his confidence lightly to any one ; and from a course of action to which duty, or a conviction of its fitness pointed, neither blandishments nor their opposites could, under any circumstances, turn him aside. It is not our province to describe in detail the proceedings of the Congress of Verona, memorable as in the history of Europe these must always continue to be. We have to deal but with one member of that august assembly, and with the manner in which he exerted himself to sustain the credit of his own country, and to effect the general purposes to which he was instructed to attend. Of these we have elsewhere stated that there were three which deserved, in an especial manner, to be regarded as English ; and though they did not come on for discussion immediately, and only one was discussed in Congress at all, it may not be amiss if we say all that can be said about them in this place. The Austrian debt, which was of old standing — the money having been lent so long ago as 1794 — proved a hard matter to deal with. Prince Metternich refused in the first instance to acknowledge it, though the Duke produced the securities granted to the lenders, and the deed which had assigned the loan to the British Government. The Emperor was more modest. He could not, as a man of honour, repudiate the claim ; and acknowledged, that if called upon to give judgment in a court of law, he must decide against himself. But he reasoned ad miser icordiam, that forasmuch as many pecuniary transactions had occurred between 1822. CONFERENCES AT VERONA. 375 the two countries since 1794, into none of which any reference to the old debt had been introduced, Austria was justified in conclud- ing that it was considered by Great Britain to be cancelled. The result was just such a compromise as, under the circumstances, might have been expected. Austria, which was really unable to pay, obtained time, while England consented to accept, when it could be got, a quantity of quicksilver in lieu of what she had a right to demand in gold. The issues of the Duke's conference with the Russian Govern- ment on the subject of the ukase, were not more decisive. M. Talestcheff protested that no wrong was intended to England or to any other country by that document ; — that Russia did not pro- fess to be fully acquainted with the geographical position of the territories comprehended in it, and that she was perfectly willing to leave the question to be settled between the English Minister for P'oreign Affairs and her own representative at the Court of St. James's. The question of the slave-trade was one of graver moment, and it underwent many discussions, as well in private between the Duke and the plenipotentiaries of the several powers, one by one, as publicly and in congress. The private opinions of Russia, Prussia, Austria, and even of P>ance, were all in accord with those of England. Their representatives agreed with the Duke that the traffic was a disgrace to the Christian world ; but to each separate scheme which he brought forward for its suppression they enter- tained insuperable objections. The utmost, therefore, which he succeeded in obtaining, was a reissue of the joint condemnation of the traffic, which had been first pronounced in 1815 at the Congress of Vienna, and a special assurance from France, that as soon as the state of public feeling would allow, she would take active steps to fulfil the treaty into which she had entered with England. In the conferences which referred to the affairs of Italy the Duke took no part. He never attended any of them. As a private friend of the sovereigns and their governments, he did not, indeed, refuse his advice when it was solicited, and he was successful in arranging for Austria a plan by which she might be able finally to evacuate Sardinia and Naples in the autumn of 1823. When the questions at issue between Russia and Turkey came on, he was, however, prominent in urging upon the latter a policy of peace, which was happily concluded between the two countries on terms honourable to both. Turkey, it was understood, had already withdrawn her troops from Wallachia and Moldavia, to which hospodars were again appointed, and she now agreed to give a free passage into the B B 4 376 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1822. Black Sea to the merchant vessels of all nations. As to Greece, all that the Allies then considered it judicious to afford her was an expression of sympathy, as well as the recognition of her flag, so long as it was not made use of to cover piracy. Thus far the plenipotentiaries of Austria, England, France, Prussia, and Eussia were at one. But in the great question of all, that relating to Spain, the English plenipotentiary stood alone ; and though he fought the battle of right assiduously and ably, he fought in vain. From the date of the Congresses of Trappau and Laybach, there had arisen among the continental powers extreme jealousy of England. The feeling was an old and a bitter one in France, which her growing desire to become a commercial nation served only to aggravate. For she was too much exhausted by war and its consequences to have any capital at her disposal ; and see- ing England always ready to avail herself of openings which she herself, for want of means, could not approach, she had learned to attribute to the grasping tendencies of the English Grovernment, and the supineness of her own, arrangements which were the necessary results of active commercial enterprise on the one side, and the total absence of it on the other. Austria, Prussia, and Eussia, on the other hand, were angry that the government of a free state should refuse to co-operate with them in repressing the growth of freedom elsewhere. Hence, though England never ex- pressed her approval of the military revolts in Spain and Italy, or even in South America, still, because she declined to be a party to the suppression of the free constitutions in which they issued, Austria, Prussia, and Eussia spoke of her as the champion of revolutionary principles all over the world. Again, things were greatly changed, so far as Austria, England, and Eussia were concerned, since the Congress of Aix-la-Chapelle. Then Austria stood in an attitude of something like antagonism towards Eussia, and leaned upon England. Now the Czar being- cured of his extraordinary liberal sympathies, Austria separated from England, and ranged herself on the side of Eussia. The re- moval of Capo d'Istria from the Emperor's councils had, moreover, led to a close intimacy between his imperial majesty and Prince Metternich, who soon came to exercise almost as much influence at St. Petersburg as he did at Vienna. Still there were points on which the views of Eussia and Austria could not fail to be diver- gent. They were equally hostile to the growth of liberal opinions everywhere. They were equally bent on suppressing them in Spain, as they had been suppressed in Italy. But the Czar was anxious to take an active part in the work by moving his troops into Western 1822. SPANISH AFFAIRS. 377 Europe, while Metternich dreaded nothing more than the march of a Eussian army through Grermany. When, therefore, the project of a Spanish invasion by Eussia was mooted, Metternich took part with the Duke in resisting it, and he was equally urgent in his opposition to the Czar's second proposal, viz. the establishment of a Eussian army of observation in Sardinia. These points having been carried, however, Metternich went completely round ; and as Prussia held that the four great continental powers ought not to differ on questions of strictly continental policy, the Duke found himself alone in resisting a plan of interference in the affairs of Spain. The patience of the Duke had often been tried in the conduct of military operations ; the demands now made upon it in his character of a diplomatist were equally incessant. It never failed him ; nor was he either less assiduous or less skilful in conducting the negotiations which had been entrusted to his management than he had been in dealing with the strategy of his enemies and the caprices of his allies. Day by day he saw separately the monarchs or their ministers. He placed the subject under consideration before them in such a light as the peculiar circumstances of each required. To M. de Montmorency he spoke of the impolicy of a rupture with Spain, urging the disgrace as well as danger to France and her government of calling in the assistance of any other power. End as it might, war must necessarily bring evils upon France; for, first, there was the expense attend- ing it ; next, the inconvenience of keeping an army of occupa- tion in Spain ; thirdly, the humiliation which would befall the King's government in consequence of the dictation to which it would be subjected by the action of a council of allied ministers in Paris ; and last, and not least, the danger that the French people, and even the French army, disgusted by such a state of things, might themselves conspire against the monarchy, and over- throw it. His arguments with the Emperor of Eussia were neither less able nor less telling. The Czar had no confidence, and did not profess to have any, in either the military qualities or the fidelity of the French army. He was, therefore, eager to bring Eussian troops into the field; and endeavom-ed to show that their co-ope- ration with French troops would strengthen rather than shake the throne of Louis XVIII. He was supported in this view by M. de Montmorency, who either did not know, or was determined not to regard, the sentiments of M. de Villele on that subject. But the Duke's representation of what had passed between himself and the French Government in Paris staggered the Emperor now as it had 378 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1822. done when first brought before him in Vienna ; and the corollary drawn from it came in well. Assuming that Spain should be over- run, could she be left without an army of occupation ? And assuming that France single-handed brought the war to a success- ful issue, would his imperial majesty desire to see Spain held by a purely French army ? The Emperor replied in the negative ; and then came the difficulty, how was this admitted evil to be avoided ? Still, though France arrived at one conclusion in reference to this matter and Kussia at another, they were both agreed so far, that the revolutionary principle in Spain ought to be put down ; and Austria and Prussia coinciding with them, it only remained to de- vise some line of action which should bring the whole weight of the alliance to bear upon that contingency. The plan brought forward by France, and assented to by the three continental powers, was that the Allies should sign a proces verbal, in which the King of Spain and his family should be declared to be under the protection of Europe ; and Spain threatened with a terrible vengeance if any injury were done to them. Russia, in- deed, desired to go farther ; she asked for a public sentence of condemnation on the system of government established in Spain, as dangerous to the peace of Europe ; and was with difficulty pre- vailed upon to withdraw from that demand. For the Czar enter- tained the utmost horror of military revolts, and did not scruple to charge the Spanish minister at his court with having distributed money among the Russian soldiers, in order to corrupt them. On this head, however, Austria held back from him, and he consented that the proces verbal should run as France had suggested. And now the Duke was appealed to for his concurrence in the arrange- ment. It was civilly but firmly refused. There had occurred nothing to show that the life of the King of Spain, or of any member of his family, was in danger. To threaten Spain with vengeance in the event of her committing a crime, to commit which she had shown no inclination, was to offer to a high-minded people a gratuitous insult ; which they could not be expected to receive tamely, and in repelling which they were likely enough to take steps which must precipitate the war which England was anxious to prevent. While these points were under consideration, the Duke took a step which, had there been any vigour in the councils of the French Government, ought to have given a turn to the whole course of affairs. Perceiving that M. de Montmorency and M. de Villele were acting on different principles, he explained to Sir Charles Stuart how affairs stood at Verona, and authorised him to show the despatch to the French minister. It did not immediately 1822. NOTES ADDRESSED TO SPAIN. 379 transpire what efifect this communication produced upon the court of the Tuileries ; but the Duke's efforts to avert the evils of war were not, on that account, intermitted. He pointed out to the Congress, that a treaty of alliance as against Spain must, so far as Austria, Prussia, and Eussia were concerned, prove a dead letter ; and that France alone was in a geographical position to attack her. But against such attack he entered his protest, because, as far as appeared upon the surface of things, there was no justifiable ground for it. At the same time he thought that, in order to remove every cause of bitterness, the Allies should request one of their own members to mediate between France and Spain. \Miether in sincerity or the reverse, the scheme was taken up by Prince Metternich, who proposed that England should undertake the office of mediator. But to that France objected ; first, because as M. de Montmorency frankly allowed, there was really no question at issue between the two nations ; and next, because the English Grovernment, holding the opinions which it did, was not likely to express itself in terms sufficiently firm respecting the wishes of the Grovernment of France. The refusal of France to accept the mediation of England being- communicated to the Duke, he at once withdrew the assent which he had given to Prince Metternich. England, he said, had no personal interest to serve by interfering in the matter ; and would certainly not undertake a thankless office, unless she possessed the full confidence of France. Prince Metternich, on the other hand, objected to any other single state as a mediator ; and proposed that each should address to the Spanish Government a note ex- pressive of its own feelings on the subject. He carried with him, at once, France, Prussia, and Eussia. The Duke alone declined to give an opinion, till he should have had an opportunity of see- ing in what tone the notes were composed. It was pretty clear that, after arriving at this conclusion, the four powers experienced considerable difficulty in the concoction of their notes. Twelve whole days elapsed before the French pleni- potentiary was ready with his ; which the Duke, after he had read it, pronounced to be objectionable both in style and matter. Pro- bably M. de Montmorency was not greatly surprised at this, for he had been unable so to express himself as to meet in any manner the views of his own government as explained to him by the Duke. He therefore asked leave of his colleagues, after they should have prepared their letters, to carry the whole, including his own, to Paris, and to get the opinion of the King and of M. de Villele upon them, before proceeding to act. Meanwhile, two papers were put in by him to the Congress ; one of which let out the fact that there 380 MEMOIR OP THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1822. had been a great deal too much tampering by France with political parties at Madrid, ever since 1820; while the second contained three propositions, on which the Allies were requested to decide. The propositions took the subjoined form : — 1st. In the event of France finding it necessary to withdraw her minister from Madrid, and to break off diplomatic relations with Spain, were the Allies prepared to act in like manner ? 2nd. If war should arise between France and Spain, in conse- quence of this proceeding, were the Allies prepared to give to France a moral support ? 3rd. Should circumstances occur rendering it expedient for France to apply to her Allies for material support, were they pre- pared to afford it, and to what extent ? To these suggestions, Russia, Austria, and Prussia replied in a tone corresponding with the temper of their respective sovereigns. Russia, treating the establishment of anti-revolutionary principles in Spain as the first object in view, was prepared to go all lengths, and in the event of war, to support France with her entire military strength. Austria was ready to follow the lead of France in diplomacy, and to afford material support also, pro- vided a congress to be called for that special purpose should de- cide that such support was necessary; while Prussia would do as her Allies did in other respects, and give as much material support as her own circumstances would allow. All three were alike prepared to Avithdraw their ministers from Spain, should France find it necessary to withdraw hers, though two indulged the hope that further proceedings would not be necessary ; while the third alone anticipated war, and was ready to take an active part in it. The Duke's decision was anxiously looked for ; and it came. It was against the whole proceeding, and he followed it up by a long conference with M. de Montmorency, in which he enumerated, one by one, all the evils which a treaty, based upon such premises, would probably bring upon France. It was on the 27th of October that the four powers came to these conclusions, and on the 31st it was further settled that a proces verbal should be addressed to the head of the Spanish Grovernment, communicating the line of policy which it was deter- mined to pursue, and explaining the reasons for it. In the Duke's estimation, this was to go many steps further in a wrong direc- tion. He had come to Verona in the hope that the Allies would at all events be open to arguments in favour of peace. He found them bent on such a course as would render the preservation of 1822. THE DUKES PAPER. 381 peace impossible. For though the ministers by and by reduced their ideas to a definite shape, the incidents which they agreed to accept as leading necessarily to war, appeared to him fallacious in the extreme. They were these : — First, an armed attack by Spain upon France. Second, any personal outrage offered to Fer- dinand VII. or to any member of the Spanish royal family. Third, an act of the Spanish legislature, dethroning the King, or interfering in any way with the right of succession. What, how- ever, could the Duke do ? Austria, Prussia, and Russia accepted the conditions readily, adhering at the same time to the sub- stance of the notes which they had previously put in. He took a day or two, as if to consider, and then produced a paper of his own, in which the three hypothetical causes of war were con- sidered separately. He showed first that an attack by Spain upon France was an occurrence beyond the range of human pro- bability. Next, that though according to the usages of civilised nations the persons of monarchs were held to be sacred, to ex- tend a character of sanctity to those of other members of the royal family was a thing never before heard of in the history of the world. And lastly, that till the Allies should be informed on sufficient authority that a plan for dethroning Ferdinand or changing the succession in Spain was actually in progress, to assume that such crimes might be perpetrated was to insult the whole Spanish nation. For his own part he must decline to have any share in the transaction, or to deliver an opinion upon purely h3rpothetical cases, farther than this, that if the independ- ence of Spain were assailed without just cause, Great Britain would be no party to the proceeding. The Duke's public document chafed without convincing those to whom it was addressed. His private remonstrances were received in a better apparent spirit, but proved in their results equally inefficacious. It was to no purpose that he pointed out how galling to the self-respect of a high-minded people the proposed document must be ; how different in its character, and probably in its effects, from the separate remonstrances of any number of foreign minis- ters, all acting on the spur of the moment, and without concert among themselves. These, if the safety of the royal family was threatened, might perhaps avert the danger; but a preconcerted announcement from all the powers simultaneously — that under certain circumstances they would treat Spain as a common enemy — could have no other effect than to irritate Spanish pride, and to drive the Spanish people into the commission of the very act which the declaration was intended to prevent. Of the temper of the continental powers at that time towards 382 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1822. England some idea will be formed, if we observe the eagerness with which their representatives took up and circulated among themselves reports injurious to her honour. One of these, which proved a frequent subject of conversation in Verona, deserves, from its very absurdity, to be specified. There was a Spanish gentle- man, a M. Carnacero, with whom the Duke had formed an acquaintance in Paris, and who, happening to arrive at Vienna while he was there, called upon him, and not unnaturally discussed with him the state and prospects of his own country. The visit 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 intervention, a story was got up in Verona, that M. Carnacero had been employed to conclude with him a convention, whei'eby England, in return for certain com- mercial and other privileges secured to her, should support the cause of Spain against France at the Congress. The tale, as we need scarcely stop to observe, had no foundation whatever in fact, though the English newspapers would 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 obstinacy of the Duke and the ultra-liberalism of the government which he repre- sented. Another, of a graver nature, scarcely admits of so clear an explanation. There had been some correspondence of late between the Portuguese Grovernment 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 correspondence the Portu- guese minister informed Mr. Canning that he was about to con- clude an alliance offensive and defensive with Spain, and requested to be informed how far such alliance would affect the guarantee ; but before any answer could be sent to the question, he communi- cated the fact that the alliance had actually been concluded. The peninsular 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 France, even if by joining Spain in a war of aggression she should bring the evil on 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. So passed the time up to the 21st of November, when the notes of Austria, Prussia, and Eussia were separately read. The Duke 1822. THE DUKE QUITS VERONA. 383 objected to them all, but without effect, for on the 22nd M. de Montmorency set out with them for Paris, whence, together with his own, it was agreed that they should in due time be forwarded to Madrid. He did not, however, depart till the Duke had taken occasion to caution him against the transmission of his own note, expressed as it then was. It was not true, as the French plenipo- tentiary represented, that France was acting with the entire con- currence of her allies. England had given no sanction, and never could give any, to a course which she entirely condemned ; and unless the terms of the French note were so altered as to make this appear, he (the Duke) would feel himself under the necessity of giving to it a public contradiction. The minds of the continental sovereigns and their ministers were so completely engrossed with schemes for the repression of revo- lutionary principles in Europe, that they found little leisure to attend to the Dul?:e'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 Jacobins in all parts of the world ; and that they (the Allies) had neither the power nor 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 con- sequence of this communication, and that the Duke withdrew from among them more dissatisfied than ever with the turn which affairs had taken, and more distrustful of its issues. On the 28th of November the Duke waited upon the Emperor of Austria to take his leave. Not much conversation passed between them, but it was of a friendly nature, and when the Duke rose to depart, the Emperor touched again upon the subject of the Austrian debt, and delivered himself in becoming terms respecting it. The Duke's parting interview with the Emperor of Russia, which occurred on the 27th, was both longei", and more generally interesting. He availed himself of that opportunity again to express his regret at the prospect of war with which Europe was threatened ; and to repeat all the arguments which he had formerly used, to show both its injustice and its folly. The Emperor, on the other hand, dwelt upon the mischievous effect in other countries of the example set by Spain, and lamented that England should now hold aloof from the policy of order on which her allies had en- tered. There was, however, no help for it. England, with her popular government, could hardly avoid taking part with revo- 384 MEMOIR OF THE DUXE OF WELLINGTON. 1822. lutionists ; whereas the line of the continental governments pointed in an opposite direction, and they must follow their course as England followed hers. Moreover, it was the clear duty of Eussia, in the present instance, to take the lead. If she refrained from doing so, no movement could be made, because the armies of France were not to be depended upon, and Austria and Prussia without Russia could accomplish little. It was indeed quite pos- sible that if France entered singlehanded upon a war with Spain she would be beaten ; and if beaten in the field, it was not to be expected that she would escape internal convulsion. But for every contingency Eussia was prepared. She was able, with the support of Austria and Prussia, to crush revolution both in France and Spain ; and if the necessity should arise, she was determined to do so. The Duke heard his imperial majesty to an end, and then ven- tured to assure him " that there was no sympathy, and could be none, between England and Revolutionists and Jacobins anywhere. The system of English government was founded on respect for property ; Jacobinism or revolution, in the sense which his impe- rial majesty applied to the term, on the confiscation of property. All for which England pleaded was the right of nations to set up over themselves whatever form of government they thought best, and to be left to manage their own affairs so long as they left other nations to manage theirs. Neither he nor the government which he represented was blind to the many defects which disfigured the Spanish constitution ; but they were satisfied that the best remedy for these would be provided by time, and to that greatest of all practical reformers he advised that Spain and her constitution should be left." The Emperor could not gainsay the justice of these remarks, neither was he willing to be persuaded by them ; so, after expressing himself well pleased with the settlement which had been effected of the Turkish question, he embraced the Duke, and they parted. From Vienna the Duke proceeded to Paris, where he arrived on the 9th of December, and the same evening he had an interesting conversation with M. de Villele. He found that minister quite as desirous of avoiding a rupture with Spain as he had been when they last discussed the subject together. Indeed the state of affairs on both sides of the Bidassoa was by no means such as to provoke one. The truth is that the royalist party in Spain had sustained a great defeat, that most of its leaders were exiled from the country, and that the revolutionary government, encouraged by this success, was beginning to exhibit signs of moderation. Hence, not M. de Villele alone, but the King also, appeared a good deal cooled 1822. COXFEEENCES IN PARIS. 385 down in his eagerness for the invasion, and expressed his fears, when the Duke saw him on the morrow, that the notes of the Allies, if sent forward, would only interrupt the good under- standing which he was anxious to establish with his neighbovirs. The result was, a promise on M. de Villele's part to communicate by special messenger with the plenipotentiaries at Verona, and to use his best endeavours to obtain a suspension of the course which had there been determined upon, if not a modification of the terms in which it was expressed. It was evident, from all this, that the French ministry was by no means at one with itself. The views of M. de Villele seemed to be a good deal more reasonable than those of his colleao-ues MM. de Montmorency and Chateaubriand. Still the Duke was not deceived. Something there evidently was beneath the sur- face, which had not yet been made clear to him; and by degrees it came out. On the 12th he saw M. de Toreno, the Spanish minister at the court of the Tuileries, and learned from him that the question of peace or war, as explained by M. de Villele, did not depend upon any modification of the existing Spanish consti- tution; that France would leave that matter to be settled by the Spaniards as they themselves thought best, provided Spain would accept her mediation in the quarrel with the colonies, and con- sent to a separation by establishing a Bourbon monarchy in Mexico or Peru. On the other hand, both the king and M. de Villele spoke to himself only of the Spanish constitution. The latter, especially, expressed his desire to break up the army of observa- tion, if he could do so with honour, and believed that it might be done if Spain would yield in one not very important point. Neither he nor his master cared what plan of representation might be followed. All that they pressed for was, that Spain should so modify her system as to make the constitution emanate from the king, by resting it upon a royal charter, and not upon the will of the people. If this were done, and done in time for him to ex- plain the case to the houses of parliament when they met on the 28th of January, everything else, — every matter of arrangement in detail, would be left to the undisturbed management of the Spanish cabinet and Cortes. While the messenger from the Tuileries was pursuing his journey to Verona, the Duke made a full report of all that had passed to Mr. Canning. He wrote also to Sir W. A'Court, the English minister at Madrid, at once cautioning him to conceal from the Spanish cabinet the apparent eagerness of France for peace, and suggesting that now was the time to persuade Spain to solicit the mediation of England. Without such solicitation he c c 386 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1823. was averse to renew the offer which France had rejected at Verona when it came from Prince Metternich. But Mr. Canning took a different view of the case. He instructed the Duke to deliver an official note to M. de Villele, containing a direct offer from Eng- land to mediate; and the offer was, as the Duke expected that it would be, after a brief delay declined. At the same time, the king, M. de Villele, and M. de Montmorency, all expressed them- selves desirous that England should exercise her influence with Spain to bring her government to reason; and they urged the Duke, even now, to sign the proces-verbal. The Duke asked, in his turn, whether upon his signing that document, France would at once break up the army of observation, send the Spanish refu- gees beyond the Garonne, and treat the instrument as one of a purely defensive import. He received, as indeed he anticipated that he should, an unsatisfactory answer, and he refused to sign the document. It was impossible to draw froni all this any other inference than one; viz., that the continental monarchies, and especially France, were overcharged with jealousy of England; that any measure, however wise and just in itself, if proposed by her, would be sus- pected; and that unless she were prepared to enter into a doubtful war of principles, there remained nothing more for her to do than to bring her diplomatic efforts to an end. For it had transpired in the course of the Duke's conferences with Louis XVIII. and his ministers, that the operations of the English cruisers in the Carib- bean seas were viewed with suspicion ; that their pursuit of pirates up the lagoons and into the islands adjacent to Cuba gave great offence, and that fears were entertained of her becoming mistress of Cuba itself, and even of Porto-Eico and other Spanish settle- ments. And France, the Duke was informed, would never con- sent to such an increase of British territory, even if it were made over to her as the price of her alliance by Spain. The Duke could only assure the French minister, that for accessions of territory in the Caribbean seas or elsewhere England had no wish; that she would not accept Cuba as a gift, were Spain to offer it; and that the project of selling her support to the Spanish government for such a price had never been entertained either by England or by Spain. Finally, he soon learned that M. de Villele's application for delay to the congress at Verona had proved unsuccessful ; and that Austria, Prussia, and Eussia were determined to go forward with their project of interference in Spanish affairs, with or with- out the co-operation of France, as France might determine. On the 20th of December the Duke quitted Paris, and early in January, 1823, he arrived in London. The correspondence of 1823. M. CHATEAUBRIAND AND MR. CANNING. 387 which he had heretofore been the medium, was thenceforth car- ried on between Mr. Canning and M. de Chateaubriand, who had succeeded M. de Montmorency at the French Foreign Office; and we are bound to add that whatever Mr. Canning's letters mio-ht gain in elegance of diction, they lost in the absence of that brevity and decision which characterised every written communication from the Duke of Wellington. Indeed the game became one of mere fence between two clever sophists. M. Chateaubriand en- deavoured to show that the question at issue was not French: Mr. Canning demonstrated, as the Duke had done before him, that France had at all events made it her own, by the terms of the note which her representative had handed in at Verona. In the same spirit, the Duke's admission so long ago as 1820, that causes of war between France and Spain might arise, — as for example, if the latter should invade the territory of the former, or endeavour to over-run Portugal, — was tossed to and fro between them. The French minister contended, first, that Spain had actually invaded France, by sending bands of armed plunderers across the border; and next, that the same reasoning which applied to actual inva- sion was applicable to invasion threatened, or even intended. Mr. Canning denied that the acts of marauders could be treated as those of the state, and derided the notion of indentity between a purpose meditated or assumed to be meditated, and the same pur- pose carried into effect. And so it was with regard to the moral contagion to which France, and indeed all Europe, was alleged to be exposed. Certainly the risk was there; but the question arising out of it resolved itself into one of probabilities, and on this head Mr. Canning declared himself against any attempt to stamp it out. " The Spirit of Eevolution," he observed, " which, shut up within the Pyrenees, might exhaust itself in struggles, trying, indeed to Spain, but harmless to her neighbours, if called forth from within these precincts by the provocation of foreign attack, might find perhaps in other countries fresh aliment for its fury, and might renew throughout Europe the misery of the five and twenty years which preceded the peace of 1815." Probably there is no sane man now living, whether he be a native of France or of England, but will acknowledge, that reason and justice were, throughout this discussion, entirely on the side of the British government. Opposed to them, however, were the ties of family connection, considerable apprehension of disturbance at home, and a natural anxiety to restore to France her proper rank among the great military powers. And these took the place with M. de Chauteaubriand, of the moral force which was wanting to his argument. Now though England felt that she had done her c c 2 388 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1823-. duty, that the war which threatened Spain was one which could not possibly affect her, and in which she was resolved to take no part, it was determined, on the suggestion of the Duke of Wel- lington, to make a last effort to avert it. France and Spain had equally declined mediation ; yet as France had been persuaded to suspend military operations, so Spain, it was hoped, might even yet be prevailed upon to make of her own accord such concessions as should satisfy her somewhat unreasonable neighbour. Accord- ingly Lord Fitzroy Somerset, the Duke's military secretary through- out the late war, and his attendant at Verona, was directed to pro- ceed to Madrid, and to put himself in communication with as many of his old companions in arms as might be disposed to listen with deference to the sentiments of their former chief. Lord Fitzroy went, not as an ambassador, but as a private person, and he carried with him a paper drawn up by the Duke, in which his views of what Spain might and ought to do under circumstances so critical were laid down. The memorandum is brief and very characteristic, and we accordingly give it in full : — "It is important to make the Spaniards feel first, tliat they cannot get rid of their king without exciting the indignation, hatred, and enmity of all Europe, and that all concerned in his deposition or mui-der will un- doubtedly suffer for it ; and secondly, that a king being necessary for the government of their country, and a part of their system, as established by themselves, it follows as a matter of equal necessity, that the poAvers and prerogatives assigned to the king in the system, should be such as to enable him to perform his duties, and such as in reason a king ought to be satisfied Avith. " If the situation of the king is not what it ought to be, if he has not the power to protect himself and those employed imder liim, in the per- formance of their duty in the service of the public, and if the king has not reason to be satisfied that the power allotted to him by the law is suffi- cient, the country will never be in a state of tranquilUty, be the system of government what it may. Thei'e will be successive insurrections in one part of the country or the other. The king and his government will be a never-ceasing object of jealousy and distrust, and sooner or later the catas- trophe will happen, which all good men deprecate. But not only is in- ternal tranquillity imjwssible as long as this system lasts, but it renders foreign war and invasion certain. " The family connections between his Catholic Majesty and the king of France, the interest which the latter naturally feels for the welfare of the former, which the desire to re-establish the French influence in Spain will constantly induce him to manifest, will occasion a perpetual irritation between the two countries, as long as the situation of the king in Spain is not what it ought to be, which it may be expected will sooner or later occasion war, and the successful invasion of the weaker country. " Thus then those Spaniards who really desire the peace and welfare of 18-23. THE duke's MEMORANDUxM. 3S9 their country must look to an alteration of their constitution, which shall have for its object to give the king the power of executing his office. I confess that I do not see any objection to this alteration, either in the antecedent conduct of the king, or in the apprehension that his Catholic Majesty will abuse the power thus confided to him. The king will feel the advantages of the position in which he shall find himself, and will have no motive for Avishing to overthrow the system established, particularly if the alteration is made in concert with him ; and moreover, the spirit of the people, and the exertions of those individuals who have prevented the existing system from being overthrown, will preserve that to be established even though the king should be desirous of overthrowing it, by the abuse of the power intrusted to him. " This will be the case particularly, if the proposed alterations of the system are concerted with the king. Indeed no other mode of making those alterations can have the desired effect, as if they are not made in concert with the king, his Catholic Majesty will not cordially carry into execution the system proposed, and both king and people being dissatisfied, there will still be the same causes for internal disturbance and for external war as exist at present. " The concert Avith the king on the alterations must be a real one, and the king must be satisfied that the constitution as altered will secure the foimdations of his poAver and of the executive government, and will give him the means of protecting himself and his servants. Neither do I see any reason for deferring to make these alterations in the recent transactions of foreign poAvers. Those transactions are all defensive. France, by her army of observation, professes to be on the defensive, and that she will not pass the frontier excepting on the occurrence of certain cases. The altera- tion of the constitution on the principles proposed would render those cases so improbable, as that the continuance of the army of observation Avould be a iiseless expense, and there is no doubt that it would be Avith- draAvn. " Then another advantage Avhich Avould result fi-om this alteration in aid of internal tranquillity is, that France would most probably adopt some efficient measure to prevent the assembling of the royalists Avithin the French fi'ontier. All Spaniards Avho pass the fi'ontier might be ordered to reside at such a distance fi-om the frontier as to render their intrigues or their operations Avithin the Spanish frontier nearly impossible. And thus the asylum given in France to persons of this description Avould not be in- consistent with the jDcace and tranquillity of Spain. " But this is not all. The Spaniards must see that all the sources of the prosperity of their country are nearly destroyed, and that the very foundations of social order and government are in a state of risk. There is no trade, no private or public revenue : the national property cannot be sold, the interest of the national debt cannot be paid, nor can the army, or any of the public servants or establishments, and no more money can be borroAved. " I happen to knoAV that the principal money people in Europe Avill not lend their money to Spain till they shall see a system prevail in tliat couu' c c 3 390 MEMOIE OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1823. try which shall afford some hope of the re-establishment and permanence of peace and good order. If all this be true — if it be true besides, that the best chance Spain has of coming to some arrangement with her revolted colonies, is to be found in some settlement of her internal dissensions and distractions — it is impossible that any reasonable Spaniard can doubt, that the time is come, at which a great effort should be made to effect those alterations, Avhich the common sense of mankind points out to be necessary." Had the public mind at Madrid been in a state of less irritation, it is probable the Duke's advice would have been followed. It is certain that of those to whom Lord Fitzroy submitted the paper just quoted, all professed themselves satisfied with its contents, but to a man they added, that the minister or member of Cortes who should at that moment endeavour to act upon the Duke's sug- gestions, would pay the penalty of his rashness with his life. This was especially the opinion of Greneral Alava, whose personal at- tachment to the Duke could not be doubted, and who, more per- haps than any other leader of the constitutional party, was inclined to support the royal prerogative. For already the representatives of Austria, Prussia, and Eussia, had read their notes to the Spanish Minister for Foreign Affairs, who at once submitted them to the Cortes, and handed in replies worthy of a proud people, had the people really been united and physically capable of maintaining their rights with the sword. Nor were the relations between France and Spain ameliorated by what took place at the same time. The French minister read his note, as the representatives of the other powers had read theirs ; and though he was answered in a strain of greater courtesy, the matter of the reply to his com- munication was equally firm ; for it contained, among other things, a demand that France would break up at once that army which she had collected on her southern frontier, and which Spain could not regard in any other light than as a menace to herself. Lord Fitzroy's letters to the Duke and to Mr. Canning, were not there- fore of a cheering kind, and the passage of a few days sufficed to dispel whatever hope of an amicable settlement might yet linger in their minds. On the 28th of January the king of France opened the Chambers with a speech, the purport of which could not be misunderstood. It spoke of 100,000 French soldiers as prepared to march under a prince of the blood, for the deliverance of Fer- dinand VII. and his loyal people from the tyranny of a faction, and within little more than a month the march besran. 1823. THE DUKE ATTACKED IN THE LORDS. 391 CHAP. XXVII. FRENCH INVASION OF SPAIN. — STATE OF THE CABINET. — MR. CANNING SHIFTY. — GRADUAL CHANGE OF COMMERCIAL POLICY. — ITS RESULTS. — STATE OF IRELAND. RISE OP THE CATHOLIC ASSOCIATION. ITS DEMANDS. History has recorded in what manner the events alluded to at the close of the last chapter reacted upon England and the rest of the civilised world. The march of the French army from the Bidassoa to Madrid was one continued triumph, and a brief siege compelled the revolutionary government of Spain to set the king at liberty, and to open the gates of Cadiz. In Portugal, also, a counter- revolution began, which, unaided by foreign bayonets, overthrew the Cortes, and restored to the Crown its old influence in the state. These results, little calculated upon either by the ministers or the opposition, produced general discontent in England. It was to no purpose that the ministry, by suspending an order in council, enabled British merchants to pour large supplies both of arms and ammunition into Spain. The Spanish people proved to be little enthusiastic for liberal institutions, and the few Englishmen who crossed the sea for the purpose of awakening this feeling, returned in due time, mortified, but still unconvinced. Accordingly, when Parliament met, there was a fierce onslaught on the government, and especially upon the Duke, as its representative at the Congress of Verona. The attack in the Upper House was led by Lord Ellenborough, and supported in long speeches by Lord Holland and Earl Grey. The Duke's defence of himself was masterly. He pointed out that he had been sent to Verona, not to fight for abstract principles, but to communicate the line of policy which the cabinet had determined to follow. He replied to the charge of having been too guarded in his language, by asking, " Whether it would be becoming in one who appeared in the character of a me- diator to employ threats, especially if he had no power to carry them into effect ? " As to his having approved originally of the assembling of a French army of observation on the frontier, to what did it amount ? To this and no more, — that with a civil war raging along her frontier, which necessarily exposed every town and village near to insult and injury, France had a perfect riglit to 392 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1823. guard her own material interests ; and he defied any reasonable man, be his political prejudices what they might, to assert the con- trary. "But," continued he, "the noble baron who quoted that part of my note, has forgotten by some accident or another, to allude to the very next paragraph. I will supply what he has left out. ' His Britannic Majesty wishes that this measure may be effectual in attaining the object for which it is calculated, and that the wisdom of the French government will have induced them to explain it at JNIadrid in such terms as will satisfy the government of his Catholic Majesty of its necessity.' " Following up this hit, the Duke went on to state, that he had received no instructions to insult the illustrious individuals as- sembled at the Congress of Verona ; and that he was commissioned to address himself, not to the people of England, but to inde- pendent sovereigns and their representatives, whom he might advise, but to whom he had no right to dictate. He next desired to be informed what the noble lords would have had him do. Were they for a j^olicy of peace, or a policy of war ? If for the former, could he go farther than declare, that to any violent attack on the independence of Spain, the king his master would be no party ? If for the latter, all he had to say was, that he entirely differed from them ; and he believed that his views would be sup- ported by all the intelligent portion of the community." Adverting next to the success which attended his efforts to defer, if he could not stop, the rupture, he showed that, by sending Lord Fitzroy Somerset to speak privately to individual members of the Spanish cabinet and Cortes, he had acted in the fairest and most friendly manner towards both France and Spain. The concessions which he had recommended the latter power to make were, even by the showing of the noble lords opposite, not unreasonable ; and he conscientiously believed that, had they been m.ade, even at the last moment, the soil of Spain would have escaped violation. The Duke's speech, which for liim was a long one, made a great impression upon the House. His phraseology might not always be the most correct of which the English language is capable, but his reasoning was clear, consecutive, and sound, and his final decla- ration, that upon the statements now made he rested his defence, not only before the country, but before Europe and the civilised world, was met with cheers from the opposition as well as from the ministerial benches. Yet it may be doubted, after all, whether his heart was in the work, either at Verona or in London. Of the Spanish Constitution of 1812 he had never professed to be an admirer, and still less could he approve of the proceedings of the dominant faction which, in 1 822, over-rode that constitution. It 182,-3. MR. CANNINGS SPEECH. 393 appeared, too, from his manner of expressing himself in private, that he anticipated no serious resistance to France, provided she struck boldly and rapidly. To such as expressed a desire that the Duke d'Angouleme would move with deliberation, and endeavour to gain over the Spanish people by friendly manifestoes, his answer was — " There are no manifestoes like cannon and musketry. If the French push on they will reach Madrid jDrobably without a check ; if they take Madrid, and drive the Constitutionalists into Cadiz, the game will soon be their own ; if they waste time in telling the Spanish people that they come as deliverers, the chances are that the Spaniards will be provoked to rise as one man, and to tell them that they don't want foreign deliverers, but prefer managing their own affairs in their own way." Hence, when the campaign came to an end, and France declared herself willing to withdraw from Spain as soon as King Ferdinand would permit, he did not hesitate to express his personal acquiescence in the turn which affairs had taken, and to give it as his opinion, that the con- tinental nations should for the future be left, as much as possible, to settle their own differences and to establish their own forms of government. It was not so with the new Secretary for Foreign Affairs. Mr. Canning, mortiiied at the slight which he considered himself to have received, and not unaware that he was an object of jealousy to the Gfreat Powers, pressed upon Lord Liverpool's administration a policy the wisdom of which has hardly been made manifest by time. Eestrained from defending Spain, he made up his mind to weaken her by formally acknowledging the independ- ence of her revolted colonies, and taking credit to himself for effecting that which the colonies had, in point of fact, effected for themselves, he declared in Parliament, amid the cheers of the opposition, " Contemplating Spain such as our ancestors had known her, I resolved that, if France had Spain, it should not be Spain with the Indies. I called the New World into existence to redress the balance of the Old." Mr. Canning's speech was much lauded at the time, and has often been quoted since. Yet it was a mere piece of sophistry from first to last ; for no one knew better than Mr. Canning himself that, whatever might be the value to the revolted colonies of the settle- ment by Great Britain of consular agents among them (and nothing more followed immediately upon the delivery of this speech), that course he had resolved to take, whether Spain were invaded by France or not. Neither was this fact hidden from the Duke of Wellington, whose confidence in Mr. Canning, never very great, became day by day less settled. For the sake of Lord Liverpool, however, whom he much esteemed, and because it was S94 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OP WELLINGTON. 1823. still in his power to hold the balance of parties even, he refrained from bringing the differences between them to an issue. Canning communicated confidentially, as was his wont, with the opponents, as well as with the friends of the ministry, and the Duke kept the peace by quietly counteracting such movements, and by going with him, as far as his conscience would allow, in a liberalised policy both at home and abroad. It would not be easy to conceive a state of things much less satisfactory than now prevailed in Lord Liverpool's administration. There was not one section in the cabinet which felt entire con- fidence in any other. Canning, Huskisson, Eobinson, with their followers, advocated a line of policy, at home and abroad, of advanced liberalism. They were supporters of the Catholic claims, favoured the entire repeal of restrictions upon commerce, and were desirous of pressing constitutional governments upon all the nations of the world. Diametrically opposed to the Canningites, in every point of view, were the ministers of what may be called the old tory party ; viz.. Lord Eldon, Lord Westmoreland, Lord Bathurst, and perhaps Mr. Peel. We say perhaps, because what- ever Mr. Peel's opinions might have been in 1822 — 23, they underwent before long great modification. These statesmen were opposed to any further concessions to the Koman Catholics. They deprecated interference with the established laws affecting trade and navigation ; and they looked with disfavour on every attempt made 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 Wellington 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 he saw his way clearly before him, to repeal the disqua- lifying enactments which shut out the king's Eoman Catholic sub- jects from Parliament 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 maintain the landed aris- tocracy as the preponderating influence in the state. But he had no objection to consider impartially any question which other members of the cabinet might bring forward, and as the event showed, he was willing to relax the commercial code as far as might be considered safe and expedient. In like manner, his 1823. THE DUKES POSITION IN THE CABINET. 395 principle towards foreign powers was one of rigid non-intervention. He held that it was no part of England's duty, either to foster popular movements on the one hand, or on the other to assist the continental sovereigns in repressing them ; and he was particularly averse to take a side in civil contests, whether these might arise from the claims of rival dynasties in Europe, or be produced by the quarrels of European states with their colonies in other quar- ters of the world. Less unbending on the religious question than Lord Liverpool, yet more disinclined to be carried away by the impetuosity of Canning, he acted as a sort of referee or mediator in many a minis- terial dispute ; and his task was the more difficult, that the King not only had his own views of things, often at variance with the decisions of his cabinet, but that, with excessive wrong-headedness, he was in the habit of intriguing for their accomplishment, as well with the leaders of the opposition as with individual ministers on whom he felt that he could make an impression. The effect upon a man so highminded as the Duke was such, that over and over again he thought seriously of letting things take their course. Indeed, it was only a strong sense of duty which restrained him from breaking up the government by retiring from it. For on one point his convictions were settled. He did not believe that the WTiigs, as a party, were strong enough to conduct the govern- ment, except by forcing on measures which must lead to a radical change in the principles of the constitution ; and as he entertained a nervous apprehension of such changes, of which he had seen the fatal results in continental states, he kept his place in the cabinet, that he might urge upon his colleagues the necessity of bearing with one another, and of making all possible concessions, rather than allow power to pass into hands which would inevitably abuse it. Such were the circumstances under which began that change of policy in commercial affairs which ended, as it was manifest from the first that sooner or later it must of necessity do, in the esta- blishment of free trade. It was the cabinet of which the Duke of Wellington was a member, and Lord Liverpool at the head, which substituted for the ancient navigation laws of Cromwell and Charles II. a system of reciprocity — in other words, which per- mitted the import and export of goods in foreign bottoms on con- dition that foreign states would agree to confer similar privileges on British shipping. The same cabinet it was which struck a blow at protection to native industry by lowering the duties on foreign commodities, whether of luxury or necessity ; and that too without stipulating for any corresponding advantages to British 396 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 182:3. manufactures. And then followed the repeal of laws long held to be essential to the country's greatness: as, for example, those against the export of machinery and the emigration of skilled artisans, as well as the acts which empowered magistrates to inter- fere in cases of strikes or combinations among workmen, and sum- marily to punish such as took part in them. It is true that the corn laws were still retained, as well as the statutes which guarded by differential duties the productions of our own colonies from the rivalry of foreign states. But these were mere exceptions to the general rule — that in commercial transactions it is true wisdom to purchase in the cheapest market, and to sell in the dearest. The success which attended these fiscal arrangements appeared to be boundless. The exports and imports of the empire increased largely, and money became at the same time so abundant that capitalists in Great Britain were at a loss how to employ it. After exhausting every tangible means of remunerative speculation at home, scheme after scheme was taken up for developing the re- sources of other countries. Among these the working of the silver mines of South America obtained special favour. Companies were formed, mines hired, machinery purchased and sent out under the care of agents not always conversant with their business ; and large returns were promised, and for a while expected. In a word, the interval between the autumn of 1823 and the winter of 1825 may justly be considered as one of the most stirring in the commercial history of England, while the government, which obtained credit for having inaugurated a system so full of promise, became popular to an extent unknown in modern times. That all this was hollow the ministers themselves appear to have suspected, and the event proved that they were right. Yet they traded on the reputation which public opinion had awarded them, and would have been, so far as home politics were concerned, much at their ease, had the state of Ireland permitted. But no measures which had yet been devised, appeared to operate any permanent improvement in that country. The truth is, that public men, at the period of which we are speaking, overlooked, or failed to discover, the real causes of Ireland's discontent. One party attributed to political oppression, evils which had their origin in social mismanagement. The other, jealous of the ascendency of law, forgot, that when a whole people is plunged in the depths of physical distress, the law has no terrors for them. Hence the zeal with which, on the one hand. Catholic emancipation was advocated, and the sturdy determination, on the other, to main- tain what was called Protestant ascendency ; as if the mere settle- ment of that question, for or against the Eoman Catholics, could have 1823. CONDITION OF IRELAND. 397 affected, for good or evil, a nation sunk in the lowest depths of ignorance and pauperism. The wants of Ireland, in 1823, were exactly those which the hand of God, more pointedly than the wisdom of man, has since removed, at least in part. Her aristocracy was bankrupt, her energies paralysed, her commerce stagnant. She could boast of no manufactures, except in the north, and a population terribly redundant 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 starvation, mendicancy l^ecame 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. Meanwhile two rival churches, each by a process of its own, wrung from this men- dicant population the means of subsistence for their 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 encouragement to emigration, a legal provision for the poor, a compulsory com- mutation of tithes, the introduction of capital into the coimtry, and with it the establishment of manufactures, and of an improved system of agriculture. There must necessarily follow upon all this, such a pressure on the landlord class as shall compel the needy to dispose of their estates, and transfer the property in the soil to men better 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 leading statesmen. A law was indeed passed, authorising landowners and tithe proprietors in Ireland to arrange between themselves, if so disposed, plans of commutation ; which, when fully settled and registered, were to 398 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1823. 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 becoming the leader of a rebellion. Daniel O'Connell, after various preliminary experi- ments, succeeded in establishing the 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 business of this biography to explain. Enough is done when we state that its affairs were managfed with such exceeding skill that its leaders, while they kept all Ireland in a state of excitement, were themselves placed beyond the reach of interference by the government. From that time forth the ingenuity of Lord Liverpool's 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 organised, professed nothing but loyalty to the throue. 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 ex- pressed by Mr. O'Connell, and his subordinate agents in the move- ment. 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 inconsiderable, 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 Roman Catholics, brought down upon the government the hostility of the Orangemen ; while the promotion of an Orangeman to * The law in question — Mr. Goulburn'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. 1824. ROMAN CATHOLICS DISCONTENTED. 399 place, or even his friendly reception at the Viceregal Court, ex- asperated the Eoman 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 Eoman Catholics, that faith had not been kept with them. This was not in strict pro- priety the fact, for whatever Mr. Pitt's intentions might be, he had no power, in despite of the Crown and the Parliament, to pay Romish priests, out of the Consolidated Fund, or to place the Eoman Catholic laity on a footing 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 strictly penal statutes either fell into dis- use or were swept away. At the period of which we are now writing, there remained only a single enactment which, by re- quiring the affirmation of a particular oath, hindered peers and commoners from sitting and voting in either house of parliament, and from holding certain offices under the Crown. This enactment 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 minority. The hope of the Protestant party was thenceforth fixed on the House of Lords, and it did not dis- appoint them ; though even there public opinion showed symptoms of wavering, which grew more and more manifest as sons suc- ceeded 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 thought- ful politician now looks back, except with sorrow. With these, however, we have no special concern ; 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. 400 MEMOIE OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1824. CHAP. XXVIII. THE DTKE'S illness. — MR. STEPHENSON TREATS HIM FOR DEAFNESS. — THE AFFAIRS OF PORTUGAL AND OF RUSSIA. — MR. CANNING's EXPEDITION TO PORTUGAL. THE DUKE's MISSION TO 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 sigfu of weakness of which he was ashamed, and which he would scarcely acknowledge 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 profuse bleed- ing, 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 who wrote or spoke to him about some malady under which 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 bully a cold, but it beat me." And here it may not be out of place if we make mention of a circumstance, which not only illustrates the fact of which we are now speaking, but brings prominently into view both the kindness of the Duke's nature, and his shrinking aversion to the very appearance of deceit. He had become partially deaf in one ear, and felt impatient under the affliction. All the legitimate skill * It is fair to add, that the Duke wore, on such occasions, an ample encasement of under-clothing. 1824. THE DUKE AXD THE AURIST. 401 and science in London was called on to remove the infirmity, but without effect. At last, Mr. Stephenson, the celebrated aurist, was recommended to the Duke as one who had been eminently success- ful 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, viz. the injection by a syringe into the ear of a strong solution of caustic. " 1 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 every- body that spoke seemed to be shrieking at the very top of his voice." We are not prepared to assign a reason for this unlooked- for result of an experiment which had succeeded in many other instances ; we only know the fact, and that the Duke, as was his wont, bore it all without manifesting any token that he was un- comfortable. 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 physi- cian, 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 Dr, Hume's expression, " was that of one who had not yet recovered from a terrible debauch." 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 Lis patient immediately to bed, and sent off for Sir Henry Halford and Sir Astley Cooper. Vigorous remedies were at once applied, and the inflammation was arrested. But the sense of hearing on that side of the head was destroyed for ever. We 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 I) D 402 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 182G. 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 suffer- ing and danger to your Grrace." " Why should they hear anything about it?" replied the Duke; "keep your own counsel, and depend upon it I won't say a word to any one." " Then yom- Grace will allow me to attend you as usual, which will show them that you have not withdrawn your confidence from me." " No," replied the Duke, still kindly but firmly ; " I can't do that, for that would be a lie." So strong, even in a case which made no common appeal to his generosity, was the Duke's love of truth. He would not act a falsehood any more than he would speak one. Let us not, how- ever, fail to do Mr. Stephenson's memory the same justice which the Duke did to his professional character while he lived. " It was not his fault," he used to say. " He distinctly warned me that if I felt 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 suppose, the inflammation had time to run on." The Duke underwent this operation because he was in a hurry to get rid of his deafness, in consequence of a duty which had been imposed upon him, the importance of which will scarcely be un- derstood without a few words of preliminary explanation. There occurred about the period at which we have arrived two events on the continent of Europe which not only affected the policy of the cabinet of which the Duke was a member, but gave to the Duke himself, both at the moment and subsequently, a good deal of uneasiness. We allude to the deaths of Don John VI. King of Portugal, and of Alexander the Emperor of all the Eussias. The death of Don John, which occurred on the 15th of March, 1826, led, as is well known, to the formal severance of her important South American provinces from the kingdom of Portugal. Already, in 1825, the national independence of Brazil had been acknow- ledged, and an arrangement made which, while it secured to Don John for his lifetime the imperial title, devolved all power, as well as the right of succession to the throne of that empire, upon his eldest son Don Pedro. The deed which settled these matters was, to be sure, so worded that it seemed to leave to Don Pedro a right of choice between the thrones of Portugal and Brazil. But it may be questioned whether it gave him authority to exercise dominion for a single day over both realms. Had he selected the crown of Portugal he would have assumed his place at once among the 182(5. AFFAIES OF TORTUGAL. 403 crowned heads of Europe, and been assured of a quiet reign over a people attached to his family as well as satisfied with the institu- tions under which they lived. But to counterbalance this, there was the apprehension of danger to the stability of the Brazilian throne, which had hardly existed long enough to bear, without being shaken by it, the inconvenience of a protracted minority. For though the Brazilians, having had the court some time resi- dent among them, accepted readily enough a constitutional form of government, with an emperor at its head, there was no reason to believe that they were so deeply imbued with a love for monarchy in the abstract, as to continue deaf, under the disadvantages of an infant sovereign and a regent, to the enticements of that repub- licanism which they saw dominant in all other parts of the Ame- rican continent. Again, Don Pedro was desirous, since he could not keep the two crowns united, to knit them together as much as possible by the bonds of a family alliance. He resolved, therefore, after mature deliberation, to retain the tlirone of Brazil for him- self, and to seat on that of Portugal his eldest daughter, then a child of nine years of age. The consequence of this resolve was the granting by him of a charter to Portugal and the establishment of his sister. Donna Isabella, in the Eegency, till the young heir should come of age. Now, it may be doubted whether Don Pedro had any legal right to settle these points ; at all events there was in Portugal a strong party which denied that the right existed. This party went at once into rebellion, with a view to place Don Miguel, the younger son of Don John, upon the throne : and Spain, now despotically go- verned, was invited to promote the success of the movement. In the English Cabinet there was a section which eagerly espoused the Queen's cause, because it was connected, or was assumed to be so, with the spread of liberal institutions. There was another, and to this the Duke belonged, which was ready to acquiesce in any arrangement which the Portuguese might make for them- selves. Both however agreed in deciding that Spain must be pre- vented from throwing her sword into the scale ; and hence when the Eegent appealed to old treaties between the two realms the armed assistance for which she applied was not refused. The ministers who in either house accounted for the sudden embark- ation of troops for Portugal, were the Duke and Mr. Canning : and their speeches remain on record. There is an extraordinary con- trast between them. Canning — the advocate of liberalism, de- livered an impetuous, defiant, and most eloquent appeal to the world. The Duke spoke like a man to whom the horrors of war were not strange ; whom nothing short of a strong moral ob- 404 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1826. ligation could induce to sanction a step which might possibly, revive them. Happily for Europe Spain did not persis't in her plans of invasion : and the British army, only 5000 strong, after spending a year or two in Portugal, returned home without having been obliged to fire a shot in anger. Meanwhile there had occurred in the East events which ap- peared not less pregnant with danger, and to deal with which the Duke was considered, by Lord Liverpool and the rest of the cabinet, as the only competent person. In December 1825, Alexander, Emperor of all the Eussias, died childless ; after settling the suc- cession, not in the person of Constantino, the elder of his brothers, but in that of the Grand Duke Nicholas. It was an arrangement, which, for reasons hereafter to be explained, had been agreed to by the whole of the imperial family ; and when the death of Alex- ander became known, Nicholas was proclaimed at St. Petersburg. But he did not ascend the throne without a struggle. A military revolt broke out, which was not suppressed without bloodshed ; and in which the name of Constantino was made use of, not less to his own annoyance than to that of the Emperor. Little was known beyond the court circle of the character of the new Czar, and the rumours which went abroad concerning him were of a mixed nature. He was described as proud, warlike, and am- bitious, but true to his word if he once pledged it. His reverence for the memory of his deceased brother was known to be great, and he took the earliest opportunity of declaring that he consi- dered himself bound, both by honour and affection, to follow in all respects the policy of his predecessor. Now for some time pre- viously to the death of Alexander, the relations between the court of St. Petersburg and the Porte had been of the most unsatisfac- tory nature. There were complaints on both sides of violated treaties, and, on the part of Eussia, frequent demands for redress ; as well as a determination, often repeated, to obtain, by fair means or by foul, a settlement of the Grreek question. It was of the utmost importance to the peace of Europe that the new Emperor should be induced to act with moderation ; and the Duke of Wel- lington was commissioned, not only to carry to Nicholas the con- gratulations of his own sovereign, but to find out what the Czar's intentions really were, and to dissuade him, if possible, from war. A measure of this sort was the more necessary, that there had arisen, of late, some coolness between the Grovernments of Eussia and England. The former charged the latter with encouraging the Porte to evade the engagements into which she had entered: — the latter believed that the former was bent on picking a quar- rel with the Porte, as an excuse for entering actively into the 1326. THE GREEK QLTESTIOX. 405 Greek insurrection. Hence when in 1824 the Emperor Alexander invited his allies to meet him at St. Petersburg, all except Eng- land obeyed the summons. She alone held aloof, because, though not less anxious than the rest to see the Greek difficulty over- come, she could not be a party to the application of force, or even of menace, in order to effect that object. The congress met and separated without making any intimation to England of the conclusions at which it had arrived. This was of itself a suspicious circumstance ; but when in addition Count Lieven, then the Russian ambassador at the court of St. James's, suddenly adopted a tone of reserve on the subject of Greece, an inference was drawn that the congress had resolved t« follow a line of action of which England could not approve. Meanwhile her own policy in regard to Greece seems to have been somewhat vague. When a proposal was made by the in- surgents to place themselves under her protection, she declined it. When it got abroad that a similar proposal was about to be made to France, she opposed that also. Her object apparently was, to bring about an accommodation between Turkey and Greece, on terms which the Greeks themselves had originally suggested ; viz. : that Greece should acknowledge the suzerainty of the Porte, and pay a reasonable tribute, while at the same time she administered her internal affairs in her own way, and under a Greek government. On this head, however, no settled plan would appear to have been formed, at all events none was nfiade public. The English Government did not know that the results of the Congress of St. Petersburg had disappointed and disgusted Alexander ; and that Alexander's successor came early to the conclusion that Russia had no sincere friend on the continent of Europe. Such, however, was the case, for after engaging Alexander not to break with the Porte, by promises of an effective inter- ference in his favour, the ministers of Austria, France, and Prussia had done nothing ; while one of them — Prince Metter- nich — committed the extraordinary imprudence to boast of his own cleverness in deceiving the Emperor, and to turn into ridicule the gullibility of his dupe. This occurred in Paris, during Metternich's sojourn there in the spring of 1825, and the story being repeated to Alexander, probably with some exaggeration, rendered him furious. He felt that he was not only isolated, but insulted ; and he surrendered himself to a morbid determination, henceforth to rely upon himself alone, and to seek his own objects with the strong hand. He was in this temper when another piece of intelligence reached I) D 3 406 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1826. him, still more mortifying to bis self-love, as it was in its nature much more startling. In the course of one of his tours through the outlying provinces, an English officer in the Russian service informed him that a frightful conspiracy had long been matured, and might at any moment break out into action. Ever since the murder of Paul a project had, it appeared, been entertained of changing the dynasty by putting to death in one day all the princes of the house of Eomanoff. Some of the most powerful Eussian families were said to be implicated in this conspiracy, which had its ramifications everywhere ; indeed, so extensive was it represented to be, and so formidable, that the Emperor, after well considering the matter, determined to run all personal risks rather than throw the empire into confusion by endeavouring to search it out. It was his knowledge of the existence of this con- spiracy, rather than any difficulty presented by the Polish mar- riage, which induced Alexander to postpone Constantine to Nicholas in the line of succession ; for Nicholas was as popular as Constantine was the reverse, and the imperial family, after con- sulting upon the subject, came to the conclusion that, under existing circumstances, the elder brother was bound to submit to a great personal sacrifice rather than aggravate the dangers with which the throne itself was threatened. It is now well known that Constantine, a harsh, but not an ungenerous man, offered no opposition to the arrangement ; it is equally certain that he was not a consenting party to the revolt which subsequently occurred in his name. But the acquiescence of his brother in a scheme which Alexander proposed only under the pressure of a deep anxiety, brought no relief to his own anguish. It seemed as if all the objects for which he had lived were defeated. His dream of becoming the great benefactor of the age was dispelled ; and he now sought in the exercise of piety, the consolation which ambition had failed to give. It happened that on one of his rapid journeys, he arrived, during a heavy fall of rain and sleet, at a place called Pujaurock. He made at once for the church, in order to worship there, and was forced in his low droshka to ford a swollen stream. The water got into the car- riage, his feet were wet, he remained long at his devotions, and caught a severe cold, from the effects of which he died in a few days. It is a curious fact that the stream which wrought him this ill had once been the line of demarkation between Muscovy and some Tartar tribes. Many severe battles were fought upon its banks, and its Tartar name when interpreted means, " Death to the Russian ! " The policy, foreign and domestic, to which Nicholas succeeded. 1826. THE duke's INSTRUCTIONS. 407 was of a very complicated nature ; and he had no one out of the circle of his own courtiers with whom to advise. To them it naturally appeared that the best means of diverting men's thoughts from mischief at home was to give them occupation in foreign war. But war for Russia meant an attack upon Turkey, which could not but prove successful, unless France and Austria, to whom the aggrandisement of Russia in Europe could scarcely be a matter of indifference, should unite with England to prevent it. On the other hand, France and Austria were both open to consi- derations which exercised no influence whatever over England, and if they should be induced to stand back, then it was next to im- possible for England and Turkey to stop the march of a Russian army upon Constantinople. It was under these circumstances that the Duke of Wellington set out upon his mission to St. Petersburg, cai-rying with him a long and carefully written letter of instructions from Mr. Canning. It turned mainly, indeed almost exclusively, upon the supposed difficulties which stood in the way of a peaceful settlement of the Greek question. It contained, among other things, extracts from two letters, which had been addressed by Mr. Canning to the British ambassador at Constantinople, and of which the Duke was to make use, in order to convince the Czar of the great desire of the British Grovernment to help him out of his difficulties with the Porte. One of these extracts explained the wishes of England in regard to the Treaty of Bucharest, every article of which the Porte was urged to fulfil to the letter. The other referred to a commu- nication which Count Lieven had recently made to the Foreign Minister, and to which Mr. Canning, after some inquiry, was dis- posed to give credence. It had been represented to the British Government, that the Sultan, wearied with the Greek war and its consequences, had made over the Morea in form to Mehemet Ali, to be held by him under the Sublime Porte on the same terms with the Pashalic of Egypt. By this deed Ibrahim Pasha was author- ised to pacify the country as speedily and effectually as he could, and it was represented that he was preparing to do so by removing the inhabitants in a body, selling them into slavery in Africa, and repeopling the Morea with a Mahomedan colony from Egypt. Such a step as this Mr. Stratford Canning was desired to say that England would never permit. She had no wish to interfere, except with her friendly offices, between the Porte and its rebel- lious subjects ; but any attempt to depopulate the Morea of Christians, and to set up another Barbary state in the heart of Europe, she would oppose, even if compelled to employ her fleet in doing so. O D 4 408 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 182G. The object wliich tlie Duke was expected to attain, by showing these extracts to the Czar, was to satisfy him of the friendl}'^ feel- ings of England towards Eussia, and her anxiety to carry into effect her own engagements to Alexander, and to press the same punctuality and good faith upon Turkey. Having accomplished this, he was to offer the mediation of England between Turkey and Greece, single-handed, if that were practicable, but in co-operation with Eussia, should Eussia desire to be a party to the agreement, and Turkey offer no opposition. He was, however, cautioned not to commit himself to any specific engagement, and, above all, to object to a congress, should the Czar propose one. If, however, the Czar should insist upon a congress, then the Duke was to hold out for three points ; first, that the King of the Netherlands, as head of a maritime power next in importance to France, should be represented at the congress ; next, that the congress should assemble in London ; and third, that its deliberations should be prefaced by the reappointment of a Eussian ambassador to the Porte ; for as yet the only representative of the Czar at Constantinople was a charge d'affaires, a man of inferior rank in Eussia, a Grreek, by name Minciacki. Finally, the Duke was desired to stipulate for an engagement on all sides, that there should be no attempt to gain an increase, either of territory or influence, at the expense of Turkey. The Duke quitted London early in February 1826, and taking Berlin on his way, arrived in that city on the 17th. His reception by the court, the army, and the people, was of the most gratifying nature *, and he had much interesting and (as it was intended that he should believe) confidential conversation with the Prussian Minister for Foreign Affairs. From him he learned that the new Emperor was bent upon war ; that he preferred it to arbitration in any form, and had made up his mind to resist the interference of the Allies, unless they engaged to mediate for him in a body. This was not very cheering intelligence for a plenipotentiary, one of whose purposes in coming abroad was to prevent the meeting of another congress ; and who hoped to avert war through the sole mediation of England, or, if that were rejected, by bringing England and Eussia to act cordially together. Its effect, however, was simply to prepare him for opposition, which, as the event proved, took a very different shape from that which either he or his government had anticipated. Continuing his journey, the Duke reached St. Petersburg on the morning of the 2nd of March, and the same evening he had an * The whole of tlie staff, including the royal family, except the King, marched on foot, in fuU dress uniform, to wait upon him at his hotel. 1826. THE DUKE AND THE EMrEROR XICHOLAS. 409 interview with Count Nesselrode. It was conducted on both sides with some finesse, and on the part of the Duke with a good deal of reserve. The great object of the Eussian 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 heard 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 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 Eussia out of her dif- ficulties. Count Nesselrode, on the other hand, expressed his anxiety to be made acquainted at once with the details of what- ever plans of accommodation the Duke was 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 which 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 audi- ence 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 reserve 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 Govern- ment seemed to imagine, to any mawkish sympathy for the Greeks. 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 Maho- medan subjects to rebel against him. His ground of difference 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 different from that which he had been led to expect, and so much at variance with what the Emperor Alex- * The Duke's MS. correspondence. 410 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1826. ander used to employ, that for a moment the Duke felt inclined to doubt its sincerity. But he found, on inquiry, that it corre- sponded exactly with everything which his Majesty had said to the ministers of other powers; he could not, therefore, believe it to be assumed. His first despatch home is, accordingly, written in a cheerful spirit, and contains an expression of his belief that there will be no war in Europe at all, especially for the sake of Greece. But he had a more difficult game to play in discussing the dif- ferences between Eussia and Turke}^, arising out of the breach or assumed breach of the Treaty of Bucharest by the latter. 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 nego- tiation 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 Eussia. 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 rebuild the churches which had been destroyed during the war, and to adjust the affairs of Servia with certain deputies, who were to repair to Constantinople for the purpose. Furthermore, the Porte consented to give free passage into the Black Sea to the merchant ships of all nations ; while Eussia pro- mised to withdraw from whatever portion of territory 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 Eussians had seized was 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, her troops still occupied the Principalities. The fact was, that of 30,000 men whom she had originally marched into the Principalities, a considerable portion was left there, under the designation of police. But as they de- rived their authority to act not from the Hospodars but from the Porte, Eussia refused to regard them as police ; and Wallachians and Moldavians equally complained that they plundered instead of protecting the country. Not satisfied with this, the Porte had, it appeared, seized the Servian deputies as soon as they arrived in the capital, and placing them under restraint, kept them as hostages for the good behaviour of their countrvmen. Against these acts, which she described as 1826. THE DUKE ADVISES THE EMPEROR. 411 flagrant violations of the Treaty of Bucharest, Kussia 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 differences 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. Satisfied from what had passed between the Emperor and him- self, that there was little to be apprehended on the side of Grreece, the Duke went no farther than to draw up a paper, in which he showed what the wishes of England were respecting the pacifica- tion of that country, and how his government had interfered to defeat the scheme for depopulating the Morea. The paper 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 Constantinople, and of which the tone was not only peremptory but menacing. A long and friendly discussion ensued, during which the Duke besought the Emperor to modify many of his expressions, and above all to omit the demand that Turkish commissioners should be sent to Odessa. For as the Porte never gave its confidence to any foreign representative, it would probably refuse to comply with the Em- peror's request ; and if it did comply, would disavow the acts of its own agents when they returned, and might perhaps put them to death. Nor was this all. The Duke entreated 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 was prepared 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. The Emperor received these remonstrances in the very best spirit, 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 necessarily imply a deter- mination to go to war, which, on the contrary, he would do every- thing in his power to avoid. When 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 quick- ness upon England 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 effect in the Morea ? What was there more unbecoming in the threats of Kussia than in those of England, both powers being determined. 412 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1826. by their own showing, to avoid a collision." 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 specified acts, in the event of her failing to do which Kussia 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 aggrandisement 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 Eng- land 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 gained. A war between Russia and Turkey alarmed the rest of Europe, only so far as it tended to bring Russia further 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 retain them if they were achieved. At the same time, the Emperor observed that the Turks had no busi- ness 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 would 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 Emperor should not send his note at present, but withhold it till there should be time for communicating with the English Grovernment, and for the English Grovernment to remonstrate, through its minister, with the Porte. The Emperor 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 conquest, and that he should content himself with occupying and holding the Principa- lities, as a material guarantee for the fulfilment of the engagements into which Turkey had entered. We should lengthen out unnecessarily this portion of our narra- tive, were we 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 we state, that for a while the Duke's arguments seemed to carry all before them ; that the demand for Turkish 1826. COUNT LIEVEN INTERFERES. 413 plenipotentiaries to repair to Odessa was given up, and that six weeks instead of a month were allowed to Turkey to make arrange- ments for satisfying Russia in other respects. In bringing all this about, the Duke made happy use of the Emperor's admission respecting the Gfreeks, by showing that if Russia went to war with Turkey before Grreece was pacified, Greece must as a matter of necessity become the ally of Russia ; and that Russia could not, at the termination of the war, replace Grreece in any shape, under her old masters. But just as matters had reached this point, Count Lieven arrived from England; and whether through his influence or not, first Count Nesselrode, and by and by the Emperor, a good deal modified their tone. For example, the Emperor had agreed to send an ambassador to Constantinople, whenever the Porte should assure England that she was prepared to fulfil her engage- ments. 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 repeated the request that his Imperial Majesty would enable him to furnish the British Grovernment with tangible proof of his generous intentions, the Emperor refused to sign anything, unless the Duke would pledge England, first to obtain for Russia 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 Grreek question, which he pro- posed to settle on the terms originally suggested by the Greeks themselves. These implied, as we have already shown, 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. A\Tien these arrangements should be complete, the Duke expressed his opinion that the execution of them should be placed under the joint guarantee of Russia, Austria, France, and Prussia, each of whom had a more immediate interest in the maintenance of the new order of things than England. Meanwhile he would not hear of any interference on the part of Russia 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 Russia would be regarded as an espousal of the cause of the Greeks, and a war between her and the Porte must inevitably follow. 414 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1826- So matters rested for a while; but on the 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 Grovernment had time to communicate with Sir Strat- ford Canning. He was greatly surprised when Count Nesselrode informed him that the note was already sent off. A man less discreet would have iired up at such an announcement ; for un- doubtedly the proceeding, had it taken place, would have indicated no desire on the Emperor's part to treat England, or her represen- tative, with too much courtesy. But the Duke kept his temper, partly because he suspected that Count Nesselrode had gone beyond the truth in this statement, partly because in any case no good could be expected to 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 posses- sion, 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. Nor 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 Nesselrode to that effect. By the deed in question, England was authorised to mediate between Turkey and Greece. If the terms of accommodation were accepted, then England and Eussia 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 dis- covered that it was useless. The Czar did not conceal, 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 declaration that he would not endeavour to extend his frontier in Europe. In Asia he considered himself free to follow 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 therefore free to con- 1826. THE DUKE VISITS THE AECHDUKE. 415 sider the propositions which England might make on the subject of the pacification of Greece, with all the calmness and regard for self-respect which the importance of the subject required. This was the last piece of business which the Duke transacted 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 showing 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 cheerfully 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 Lomtz 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 Em- peror, 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 Constantino's wishes. Still the Duke quitted the Eussian 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 we have since heard repeated, that at their parting interview the Emperor assured the Duke, that out of the love which his Majesty bore for him, he should never, unless driven to it by the sternest necessity, wage war with the Porte. We 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 Eussia 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 Constantinople took place, and the campaign of the Crimea, and the fall of Sebastopol, with all the evils attending them, soon followed. 416 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTOX. Ib26. CHAP. XXIX. PEOGRESS OF PUBLIC DISSEXSIOJf IjST KEGARD TO ROMAN CATHOLIC DISABILITIES AND REFORM IN PARLIAMENT. — THE ELECTIONS OF 1826.— DEATH OF THE T)TTFE OF YORK. — DVKE OF WELLINGTON COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF. ILLNESS OF LORD LIVERPOOL. — THE DUKE AND MR. CANNING. — THE LATTER PRIME MINISTER. — THE DUKE'S DEFENCE OF HIS OWN PROCEEDINGS. — THE DUKE OP CLARENCE LORD HIGH ADMIRAL. If in this imperfect outline of public affairs no notice has been taken, either of the hostilities which had broken out in India, or of the progress of the Grreek insurrection, it is not to be supposed that these were regarded by the Duke with indifference, or that he was inclined, either publicly or privately, to make light of them. His desire to promote the well-being of that great empire within which the foundations of his own military renown were laid, never passed away ; and he watched the course of events as they fell out, both in Birmah and at Bhurtpore, with great anxiety. Nor was he less interested in the revolt of Grreece, which, however, he regarded rather as a blow struck at the balance of power in Europe than as the effort of an enslaved people to assert their independence. Still, as it was not his special business to give a direction to the national policy in either case, his individual opinions, whatever these might be, necessarily merged in the decisions of the cabinet. In like manner the commercial crash of 1825 and 1826, which spread so much alarm and suffering through the land, affected him only as it did any other individual member of the government which had inaugurated those changes in the laws affecting trade and navigation to which the sufferers, rightly or wrongly, attributed their misfortunes. The case was different in regard to the struggle, which day by day became more embittered, between those who clamoured for Catholic emancipation and those who resisted it. "Whatever part he ma}^ have taken in that contest as a minister, whatever his votes may have been in Parliament, his private views respecting the abstract merits of the case seem to have been shared by neither party. He could not bring himself to regard the ex- clusion of Eoman Catholics from political power as the key-stone of the British constitution. Nor was he able to perceive that the Eoman Catholics had any right to complain of political, far less of 1826. ELECTION OE 1826. 417 personal injustice, in consequence of such exclusion. The laws which shut them out fx'om 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 public good, and till it could be shown that the public good would be more advanced by their repeal than by their retention, he saw no reason, on the ground of abstract right, for interfering with them. He saw, how- ever, 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 government 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 was 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 concerning it to those who enjoyed the largest share of his confidence, with a reserve which grew day by day less guarded. Not that the claims of the Eoman Catholics occupied his attention exclusively ; quite other- wise. For years back Lord John Eussell had been in the habit of periodically bringing a bill into Parliament for the better repre- sentation of the people in the House of Commons ; which, though rejected by overwhelming majorities on all occasions, was not without significancy. Meanwhile the laws for the protection of the agricultural interest against foreign competition, though re- cently altered so as to render them less restrictive than they had originally been, appeared to give satisfaction to nobody. It will be seen by and by that the Duke's views in regard to the former of these subjects have been very little understood. They were, in point of fact, less narrow than those of what was then considered to be the liberal section of Lord Liverpool's administration. But in regard to the latter, it cannot be denied that the Duke thought in 1826, as he continued to think to the day of his death, that without such protection to domestic agriculture as should render England independent of foreign countries for her supply of food, it would be impossible to preserve the balance even between the aristocratic and the democratic elements in the constitution. The Duke was absent from England when the dissolution of 1826 took place. He saw nothing, therefore, of the turmoil 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 l)reviously entertained respecting the state of feeling throughout E E 4i8 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1826. the country. In Great Britain, not less than in Ireland, the point most keenly discussed between candidates and electors, had been Catholic emancipation. In Ireland the Eomanists carried all be- fore 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 Association was in many places required as the one great test of fitness for a seat in the legisla- ture. Hence the temper of the House of Commons which met in November was a good deal changed from that of the previous May. From Ireland the cause of emancipation had achieved a large accession of strength, which, however, was more than coun- terbalanced by the exclusion of many members, who as represen- tatives of English and Scotch constituencies had formerly voted for that measure. 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 Wellington 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 unlocked 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 * He was at the same time appointed Colonel of the grenadier regiment of foot ixuards. 1826. THE NEW CORN-BILL. 419 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 Eoraan 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 administration, was, in every point of view, serious, and consequences of a very serious nature were not slow in developing themselves. Among other measures upon which ministers had agreed during the recess was the introduction of a bill into Parliament for settling a revised scale of duty according to which grain might be im- ported from abroad, and for rendering more easy the admission of bonded corn into the home market. Whether the Duke was be- yond seas when this proposal was brought forward, we have not been able to ascertain ; 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 establish- ment 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 existed. Still, the question having been considered, discussed, and formally approved, he felt himself con- strained to assent to it, as one for which Lord Liverpool's adminis- tration was responsible ; though he never appears to have had an opportunity of studying its details till the bill itself came actually before Parliament. It had been settled that the bill in question should be introduced simultaneously into both houses : into the Lords by Lord Liver- pool, into the Commons by Mr. Canning ; and the 17th of February was the day appointed for making this twofold motion. But on the 16th Lord Liverpool was struck down, and Mr. Canning him- self, 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 king 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 negotiation 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 feeling and to the public interests. The Liverpool cabinet was still, therefore, in power, though desti- K E 2 420 MEMOm OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1827. tute of an efficient 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 government, 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 engagements by which, as a minister, he was bound to support in their integrity measures brought for- ward 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 our intention to detail, at length, the intrigues and negotiations which preceded and led up to this change of go- vernment. Mr. Canning had once before made a move to become the head of an administration. 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 de- sired, but for an opposite reason, to find 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 cama- rilla, 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 reconstruction of the administration; and that he was ex- ceedingly anxious to adhere, iu so doing, to the principles on which Lord Liverpool's Government had long acted. There followed upon this a correspondence which is to be found at length in the " Annual Kegister" 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. Robinson should go to the House of Lords and take office as First Lord of the Treasury. Neither this pro- ceeding on Mr. Peel's part, however, nor his own implied pledge, stood for a moment in his way. The king was worked upon to offer the chief place in the cabinet to him ; he not only closed with the offer, but in some degree acted in anticipation of it; and the Duke, Lords Eldon, Westmoreland, Melville, and Mr. Peel all, without any previous communication with one another, sent in their resignations. 1827. THE DUKES ABNEGATION OF POWER. 421 There can be no doubt that Mr. Canning was deeply mortified 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 utter- ance of wrong done to him and to the sovereign, were as ground- less as they were uncandid. Some of the seceding ministers may have assigned reasons for their own conduct, which scarcely ex- pressed 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 ivitJi 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 cor- rupt press, and that he employed a phraseology which was open to misconstruction, and of which, in after years, he was repeatedly and most uncandidly reminded. Eef erring to the rumour which the friends of Canning had put in circulation, that, having himself in- trigued 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 con- tinued, " that I would give up such a gratification (the gratifica- tion 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." So ended this political struggle. Mr. Canning came out of it First Lord of the Treasury, and surrounded himself by friends of his own. The Duke not only gave up his seat in the cabinet with the Master- Greneralship 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 incur- ring 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. E E 3 422 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1827. CHAP. XXX. THE DUKE IN OPPOSITION. — ME. CANNING's COKN BILL. — THE DUKE'S AMEND- MENT IN THE LOEDS. — THE BILL ABANDONED. — THE "WHIGS FALL OFF FROM MR. CANNING. — HE LOSES HEART. — STATE OF GREECE. — DEATH OF MK. CANNING. — LORD GODERICH MINISTER. — BATTLE OF NA VARINO. — INTERNAL DIFFERENCES IN THE GOVERNMENT. — LORD GODERICH RESIGNS. — THE DUKE PRIME MINISTER. — MR. HUSKISSON's SPEECH AT LIVERPOOL. — NOTICED BT THE DUKE IN THE HOUSE OF LORDS. For the first time in his public life^ the Duke now sat in the House of Lords on the left of the throne. He did not, however, throw himself, as other Tory peers did, into violent opposition. On the contrary, his demeanour was uniformly calm, reserved, and dignified, as became one who had already attained to the highest honours in the state, and had nothing to desire except the welfare of the state itself. To the frequent onslaughts on the politi- cal character of the new premier, in which some of his brother peers indulged, he gave no encouragement; and as the Whigs abstained from pressing Mr. Canning from behind — as, indeed, they went so far in their complacency as to support him in retaining the stamp duty on newspapers, which they had violently resisted in 1819, — and as by these means questions of vital importance fell generally into abeyance, the Duke did not find, he certainly never went out of his way to seek, occasions to provoke a party contest. At last, however, an opportunity was presented to him of asserting what he held to be a great principle in legislation, and he did not turn away from it. The bill, of which we have elsewhere spoken, as prepared when Lord Liverpool was at the head of the administration, and which, but for his illness, would have been introduced simultaneously into both houses, made its way through the House of Commons. It was not satisfactory to the Duke, who seems never to have been consulted while the bill was in preparation, and he determined to attempt effecting such changes as should render it, according to his view of the case, more equitable. With this view he drew up a clause for insertion when the bill should come into com- mittee: and having no party objects to serve, he sent it in the first instance to Mr. Huskisson, with a request that he would consider 18-27. MR. canning's DIFFICULT POSITION. 423 the points opened by it, and give his opinion npon them. In due course Mr. Huskisson returned the clause, writing- at the same time a long letter in a spirit of most friendly criticism. He pointed out what he believed to be the inconveniences which must result from the adoption of the Duke's scheme in its present form, adding that he doubted whether it could be so altered as to prove other than fatal to the bill. At the same time he suggested a change, and did so in the following words: — "Had your proposal been, that no corn bonded after the passing of the present bill, should be allowed to be entered for home consumption till the average price reached 6Qs., and that thenceforth all corn so bonded, or thereafter imported, should come under the regulations of the bill, individually I should not object to such a proviso." The Duke understood this suggestion, as ninety-nine out of a hundred readers of the letter would have probably done, to imply that Mr. Huskisson would have been satisfied with the clause, had it taken 66s. instead of 70s. as the average. Not being wedded to his own scale, he adopted the lower rate, and the clause in its altered form was proposed, and after a good deal of discussion adopted in committee. But here again a misunderstanding arose, which resulted in a correspondence as little satisfactory to those concerned, as that which had preceded the Duke's severance from Mr. Canning. Mr. Huskisson complained that his meaning had been perverted. The Duke, who had taken the precaution, before bringing forward his clause, to refer it, with Mr. Huskisson's original letter, to Lord Goderich, insisted that he had only read his correspondent's com- munication as it was read and understood by one of his colleagues in office. The results are well known. The Duke carried his clause in the House of Lords ; the ministers abandoned their bill, and the estrangement which already existed between them and the Tory party grew more marked than before. The position of Mr. Canniug was thus rendered both difficult and painful. Separated entirely from his old friends, he was yet loth to coalesce with their rivals, and struggled for a while to steer a middle course, in which there could be no safety. He carefully avoided himself bringing forward, or encouraging others to bring forward, the Catholic claims. The Whigs, who antici- pated that sooner or later he would be driven to make common cause with them, assented to this arrangement, and allowed the questions of Parliamentary Eeform and the repeal of the Test and Corporation Acts to go to sleep. But a truce between two parties in principle so distinct, for the mere purpose of excluding a third party from office, could not be other than hollow. On a F. E 4 424 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OP WELLINGTON. 1828. motion for the partial disfranchisement of Penryn, against which bribery at the late election had been proved, his Whig allies fell off from the minister, and in a house of 193 members, he was left in a minority of 69. From that hour Mr. Canning appears to have lost all hope of playing the game which he had undertaken, to a successful issue. He had separated himself, unkindly, from the friends of his youth, and found that his new connections were pre- pared not to support, but to make use of him ; and the iron entered into his soul. He never, indeed, held up his head again. Soon after the prorogation of Parliament, 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. With the extraordinary succession of mistakes which followed, both within the cabinet and without, we have here little con- cern. Our purpose is sufficiently served when we state, that, on the death of Mr. Canning, Lord Goderich became. First Lord of the Treasury, that he endeavoured to conduct the government on the system of his predecessor, and that he failed. The battle of Navarino gave a fatal blow to English influence abroad, and irritated public men of all shades of opinion at home. Among the members of the cabinet itself, moreover, there was little unanimity of senti- ment. They intrigued, man against man, and section against section; aud at last, without any external pressure, fell to pieces. It is necessary to observe, however, that before this catastrophe occurred, the Duke had reassumed the command of the army. He had been requested to do so by the new minister, on purely public grounds, and on pubHc grounds had yielded to the request ; indeed, he was prepared to give to Lord Groderich's administration at least a fair trial. But no time was afforded for testing the value of the moral support which the Duke's return to office, under any circumstances, would have unquestionably rendered. Lord Gode- rich gave in his resignation before Parliament met, and it was immediately accepted. The king was at Windsor while the cabals in his cabinet were going on. He saw his retiring ministers there on the 8th of January, 1828 ; and sent an express to London, requiring the attendance of the Duke of Wellington. It was not the wish of the Duke to become Lord Goderich's successor. The reasons which, on a former occasion, had impelled him to resist the solicitations of his colleagues, induced him now to remonstrate respectfully with the sovereign; but the king would take no denial. He pointed out that, except the Duke himself, there was no public man — none, at least, whom he (the sovereign) could trust — suffi- 1828. THE DUKE AND MB. HUSKISSON. 405 ciently influential, amid the complications and difficulties of the times, to form a strong government ; and implored him to waive whatever personal scruples he might entertain, and to take upon himself the responsibilities of office. Such an appeal went to the very core of the principle on which the whole tenor of the Duke's public life had been founded. His sovereign required his services, and it was not for him to oppose his own inclinations to the call of duty. He accepted the trust, returned to town next day, and entered into immediate communication with Mr. Peel. There was a good deal of curiosity in political circles, respecting the course which the Duke might pursue in executing the com- mission with which the king had intrusted him. His proposal to all, except the purely Whig members of the outgoing cabinet, to retain their places, surprised many and disappointed some. Nor was the former of these feelings weakened, when it became known that the Canningites had, to a man, consented to serve under him. The Tories, indignant with the Duke for passing them by, stood apart, but said little. The Whigs, indignant with the Canningites for serving under the Duke, gave free vent to their sarcasms. It soon appeared that the Canningites, whether wounded by these sarcasms, or otherwise disturbed, fell but indifferently into the new order of things. Mr. Huskisson, for example, made a speech on the hustings at Liverpool, which offended the Duke's keen sense of right. He so expressed himself as to create a persuasion, that he had consented to serve under the Duke, only on receiving a guarantee that the liberal policy of which he claimed to be the originator, should not be departed from. Now the liberal policy of which he spoke was not his policy, but that of Lord Liverpool's cabinet. Whatever its merits or demerits might be, they were shared by every member of that cabinet, by the Duke among the rest ; and the Duke naturally resented an assumption, which was not only based upon error, but fallacious in point of fact. He availed himself, therefore, of an opportunity which Lord Eldon afforded, of explaining, in the House of Lords, that he had been no party to a bargain with Mr. Huskisson, or with anybody else. " If," he continued, " my right honourable friend had entered into any such corrupt bargain as he is stated to have described, he would have tarnished his own honour as much as I should have disgraced mine. No guarantee was required, and none was given on my part." The Duke's speech was calm and temperate, and sufficiently tender of the feelings of the person most seriously touched by it ; but it was firm. Mr. Huskisson seems to have writhed a little under it, yet he could neither refute the correctness of its state- 426 MEMOIE OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1828. ments, nor find fault with its tone. On the contrary, he lost no time in explaining, after resuming his seat in the House of Com- mons, that his meaning had been misunderstood; that in speaking- of guarantees he did not intend the inference to be drawn that anything like a compact had been entered into between the head of the government and himself, but merely that in contemplating the personnel of the Duke's administration, he found a sufficient guarantee that no violent change of policy could be intended. The House received this explanation, as it receives most state- ments of the kind, good-naturedly, and to all outward appearance the wound was skinned over. But it still festered beneath the surface, and another incident which occurred not long afterwards, dissolved for ever a confidence which from the first seems to have been but imperfectly rendered on both sides. 1828. THE KESOLUTION IN CABLET, 407 CHAP. XXXI. EAST EETFOED AND PENRYN DIFFICULTY. — MR. HUSKISSON^ LORD DUDLEY, AND LORD PALMERSTON RETIRE FROM THE DUKE'S ADMINISTRATION, AND ARE SUCCEEDED BY SIR GEORGE MURRAY, MR. TESEY FITZGERALD, AND SIR HENRY HARDIN GE. — TEST AND CORPORATION ACTS. — THE CLARE ELECTION AND ITS CONSEQUENCES. — AFFAIRS OF TURKEY AND GREECE. — THE DUKE 's VIEWS OF THE CATHOLIC QUESTION, Eefeeence was made not long ago to the corruption which pre- vailed in the boroughs of Penryn and East Retford, and to the check received by Mr. Canning in his attempt to apply a remedy to the evil. Instead of extending the franchise, in the case of Penryn, to the neighbouring hundred, the House of Commons had accepted Mr. Brougham's amendment, and resolved that, Penryn being absolutely disfranchised, the right of electing to the vacant seats should be transferred to Manchester. Now of all modern statesmen Mr. Canning was perhaps the most decidedly opposed to anything like a radical change in the constitution of Parliament. He saw, however, in what direction the stream was setting ; and conscious of his inability to arrest, he determined, if possible, to divert it. An arrangement was accordingly proposed, and accepted in cabinet, that, for the future, out of every two boroughs convicted of bribery, one should be purified by throwing open its privileges to a wider circle ; the other by yielding its elective rights to such large trading town as Parliament might select. The bill for the disfranchisement of Penryn was in the House of Lords when the Duke of Wellington came into office. It passed the first reading, but before being carried to a second, a petition was presented by the electors, to be heard at the bar of the House by counsel, and after some discussion, the prayer of the petition was granted. This led, as a matter of course, to a reconsideration, in the cabinet, of the line which it would be proper to adopt in regard to East Retford, which, according to Mr. Canning's arrange- ment, was so far safe, that in the event of the Lords assenting to the disfranchisement of Penryn, the worst that could happen would be, that the privileges of East Retford would be shared by the neigh- bouring hundred of Bassetlaw. All proceedings in the cabinet are very properly kept secret ; but there seems reason to believe that 428 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. J 828. in the particular discussion which ensued, the Duke of Wellington and Mr. Peel espoused one side, and Mr. Huskisson and his friends another. The Duke and Mr. Peel, looking to the turn which things were taking in reference to the Penryn question before the House of Lords, are understood to have advocated the disfranchise- ment of East Retford, and the transference of its members to Bir- mingham. Mr. Huskisson, conceiving that he was in honour bound to adhere to Mr. Canning's arrangement, argued in favour of the milder measure of throwing open the franchise, and carried his point. Having come to this conclusion, the ministers produced their bill, and were met, as in the case of Penryn, with a counter pro- posal. The House was invited to disfranchise East Retford entirely, and to give its members to Birmingham. Among those who spoke in defence of the ministerial measure, Mr. Huskisson made himself conspicuous by the candour with which he gave his reasons for the course which he felt it his duty to pursue. He did not consider that it would be wise to weaken too much or too sud- denly the agricultural interest in the country, and was therefore indisposed to give all at once four members to manufacturing towns. But he added, that if there had been only one delinquent borough to deal with, he should have certainly voted for its dis- franchisement, and for conferring upon a large town the rights which it had forfeited. These expressions were made use of at the first reading of the bill, and the reading was carried. Meanwhile, the inquiry before the Lords went forward, and according to the evidence produced, so good a case was made out for Penryn, that doubts began to be entertained as to the justice of depriving that borough of its pri- vileges. The Lords, however, had not come to any decision when the day appointed for the second reading of the East Retford Bill arrived ; nor had Mr. Huskisson expressed himself in the cabinet as shaken in his determination respecting the future of that borough. Indeed, the waverers, if there were any, seem to have been the Duke and Mr. Peel ; for the latter spoke to a friend, who walked with him to the House of Commons, of his disinclination, in the present aspect of affairs, to persist in pleading for the consti- tuency of East Retford. But though Mr. Huskisson seems not to have given utterance to his thoughts, they evidently ran in the same channel as those of Mr. Peel, with this remarkable differ- ence in the issues to which they severally led : that Mr. Peel, while lamenting the necessity by which he felt himself bound, yielded to it ; whereas Mr. Huskisson broke through the restraints of official duty, at the bidding of a stronger, though a personal impulse. 1828. THE DUKES COERESPONDENCE WITH ME. IIUSKISSON. 429 The second reading was proposed on the 19th of May, and an animated debate ensued. The chief speakers on the ministerial side were Mr. Peel and jNIr. Huskisson ; on the side of the amend- ment, Mr. Sturges Bourne and Lord Sandon. The latter, in the course of his address, alluded pointedly to the inquiry which was then going on elsewhere, in the matter of Penryn, — and assuming that disfranchisement would certainly not take place, called upon Mr. Huskisson to redeem his pledge, and to vote with the oppo- sition. Mr. Huskisson's reply opened new ground. It hinted at the desirableness of delay till the decision of the House of Lords should be officially communicated, a proposal which, when he sat down, he repeated in still more direct terms to Mr. Peel. Neither Mr. Peel, however, nor any other of his colleagues, except Lord Palmerston, appears to have suspected that Mr. Huskisson did not intend to support with his vote the measure, which as a speaker, he had recommended. Such, however, proved to be the fact. A division took place, and Mr. Huskisson and Lord Palmerston, very much to the astonishment of all parties, went into the lobby against the ministerial proposal. The events which followed are so well known, that it could serve no good purpose to go minutely into the detail of them here. Mr. Huskisson wrote at two o'clock in the morning 'of the 20th of May, a letter which reached the Duke at ten. It conveyed what the Duke believed to be the resignation of his office by the writer ; at all events it contained this expression : " 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 oppor- tunity of placing my office in other hands." The Duke, though surprised, and, as he said in reply, concerned, did not feel himself called upon to oppose the arrangement. He wrote shortly to Mr. Huskisson, and told him that his letter should be laid before the king. But this was not Mr. Huskisson's object. He had no wish to resign ; he never entertained the idea of resigning. What he desired, and indeed expected, was, that the Duke should entreat him to remain in the administration. He therefore wrote again, and a correspondence ensued which is perhaps as curious as any of which the record has been preserved. The final issue was, that both parties became more and more estranged. Mr. Huskisson's friends, including Lord Dudley and Lord Palmerston, endeavoured to mediate between them ; and the Duke went so far as to indicate to the former that Mr. Huskisson might, by withdrawing his original letter, place himself on fair ground for negotiation. But this would not suit Mr. Huskisson's views. He insisted to the last that his original letter neither conveyed, nor was intended to convey, a 430 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1828. proposal to resign ; while the Duke argued, with much greater show of reason, that it could be understood in no other sense than as a tender of resignation. On that point of etiquette the two states- men fell asunder ; and Mr. Huskisson quitted the cabinet, as he himself affirmed, against his will. He did not go alone. All the followers of Mr. Canning went with him. Lord Dudley withdrew from the Foreign Office ; Lord Palmerston quitted the War Office ; and Mr. Charles Grrant ceased to be President of the Board of Control. They were succeeded by the Earl of Aberdeen, who became Foreign Secretary ; by Mr. Vesey, afterwards Lord Fitzgerald, who went to the Board of Control ; and by Sir Henry, afterwards Lord Hardinge, who became Secretary at War. Some time previously to this fracas, the government had sus- tained a reverse on a question important in itself, and still more so when considered in connection with its probable consequences. The Test and Corporation Acts * had long been complained of as a stigma, if not as a practical grievance by Protestant dis- senters. They were by no means approved, as they stood upon the statute book, by many conscientious churchmen ; and repeated attempts had been made, hitherto without success, to get rid of them. On the 28th of February, 1828, Lord John Eussell pro- posed and carried a resolution that the House of Commons should go into committee with a view to inquiry. He was resisted in the debate by Mr. Huskisson, Lord Palmerston, and other ministers ; though all, perceiving that the House was against them, withdrew before the division took place. The appearance of a ministerial defeat might thereby be avoided. The fact of ministerial weakness was rendered plain enough, and it manifested itself still more dis- tinctly during the future stages of the measure. A bill, founded on the resolution, was brought in, and went, without opposition, into committee. There, however, the government adopted it as their own, by carrying certain amendments ; and the Lords agree- ing to these amendments, and adding one or two more, the mea- sure passed. The laws of Charles II. ceased thenceforth to be binding, and men of all creeds, being Protestants, became eligible to seats in the legislature, and to office under the crown. Two conditions only, neither of them onerous, were imposed : members pledged themselves by oath not to use the influence acquired to the damage of the Established Church in its rights or property ; and * The Test and Corporation Acts, passed in the reign of Charles II., reqnired that all persons, before sitting in the legislature, or accepting office under the crown, should qualify by receiving the sacrament of the Lord's Suppei- according to the ritual of the Church of England. 1828. TEST AND CORPOEATION ACTS REPEALED. 431 declared their assent to some specified oj)inions " on the true faith of a Christian." Not the least curious feature in the debates on the Test and Corporation Acts, was the medley of opinions in regard to an- other and still more important question which they elicited. The advocates of repeal contended that the admission of Protestant Dissenters to equal political rights with Churchmen, would raise an additional barrier against the admission of Eoman Catholics to the same rights. The opponents of the measure took an exactly opposite view of the case. The Duke, with other members of his administration, steered a middle course between these extreme views, neither accepting the one, nor arguing against the other. Once, and only once, when Lord Eldon moved that persons claim- ing to come under the provisions of the act, should declare them- selves to be Protestants, the Duke so expressed himself as to favour the opinion that the repeal of the laws affecting Eoman Catholics would always meet with his determined opposition. " There is no person in this house," he said, " whose feelings and sentiments, after long consideration, are more decided than mine are with respect to the Eoman Catholic claims ; and I must say that until I see a great change in that question, I must oppose it. But no man, on the other hand, is more determined than I am to give his vote against any proposition, which, like the present, appears to have for its object a fresh enactment against the Eoman Catholics." Here, as it seems to us, we have the nearest approach to what may be called a statement with mental reservation, which is any- where to be found throughout the Duke's voluminous sayings and doings. He certainly did not declare in direct terms that he would never consent to repeal the laws of which the Eoman Catho- lics complained ; he went no further than to assure the house, that his opinions on the subject remained precisely what they had ever been, and that till he saw a great change in that question, he should continue to oppose repeal. Such change might no doubt be going on at that moment, or it might occur at some subsequent period, in which case, if he considered it expedient to support re- peal, he would be able to justify the proceeding by reference to his speech of the 21st of April. The fact, however, remains, that whatever suspicions may have darkened some minds, and some were already darkened by suspicion, the Duke's declaration had the effect which it was probably intended to have. It satisfied the House of Lords, that from him at least there was nothing to be dreaded in the shape of concession to the Eoman Catholics. Scarcely was this point settled ere Sir Francis Burdett, on the 432 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTOX. 1828. Sth of May, moved for a committee of the whole house to consider the laws affecting his Majesty's Koman Catholic subjects. A sharp debate followed, and Sir Francis carried his motion by six in the same house which during the previous session had thrown out a Roman Catholic relief bill by a majority of four. This was an ominous proceeding, as was that which followed ; for Sir Francis Burdett, instead of bringing in a bill, moved that the house should seek a conference with the Lords, and carried his point. A confe- rence was accordingly held on the 19th, the Lords' managers being. Earl Bathurst, the Duke of Devonshire, Earl Grrey, the Marquis of Londonderry, the Bishop of Durham, and Lord Colchester. On the 9th of June the Commons' resolution was debated in a full house; and on the 10th, the Duke not only voted, but spoke against it. It is impossible to avoid perceiving, however, that his languao-e on that occasion was less decided than it used to be. He spoke as a statesman might who would gladly settle a great diffi- culty if he could, and who was not only willing, but anxious, to receive suggestions from any quarter, provided they had a tendency to direct him in doing so. Still his vote was recorded against con- sidering the laws which affected his Majesty's Roman Catholic subjects, and for that session the question of repeal or no repeal ceased to be agitated. If the government lost some ground in consequence of its failure in the matter of the Test and Corporation Acts, the success of its arrangements for modifying the laws affecting the trade in foreign corn scarcely added to its strength. The sliding scald satisfied nobody. Sturdy agriculturalists complained that the terms of the compromise were too low; the friends of free-trade pronounced them to be extravagantly high. The bill, however, passed both houses, by sufficient majorities ; that in the Commons amounting to forty-four, that in the Lords to forty. But other and more serious difficulties were gathering fast round the administration, to deal fairly by which, yet escape shipwreck in the effort, seemed, looking to the state of public feeling at the moment, to be well- nigh impossible. The foreign relations of England were in a very unsatisfactory state. In the East the results of the battle of Navarino became, day by day, more painfully conspicuous. Turkey could no longer contend with any prospect of success against her many enemies. Grreece was, to all intents and purposes, free. Russia, mistress of the Black Sea, of Kars in Asia Minor, and of Varna in Europe, waited only for the return of spring to march upon Constantinople. Meanwhile in Portugal that revolution occurred which set aside the arrangements agreed to between Don Pedro and Don Miguel, 182S. CONDITION OF IRP^LAND. 433 and placed, for a season, the latter upon tlie throne, which he had promised to ascend by marrying liis niece. Now there were few contingencies of which the Duke entertained a more wholesome dread than the extension of Eussian power westward in Europe ; while his antipathy to revolutions, whatever shape they might assume, grew more marked from year to year. But above even these, and before all other considerations, was the intensity of his desire to avoid involving Great Britain in war. He was, indeed, the most perfect peace minister that ever guided the councils of his sovereign. "Whatever we do," we have ourselves heard him say, amid foreign complications much more serious than those which beset his government in 1 828, " whatever we do, I trust that we shall not go to war. Not that I, personally, can have any objection to play again the great part in Europe. But what I look to is the consequences of war, let the successes attending it be what they may." Accordingly he never proposed to resist the schemes of Eussian aggrandisement except by a generous diplo- macy, which in the end prevailed ; and greatly as the conduct of Don Miguel displeased him, he resented it no further than by re- calling the British minister from Lisbon. For the same reason, and because the doctrine of non-intervention was with him not a sham but a reality, he refused, during the civil war which fol- lowed, to connect England, directly or indirectly, with either pai-ty. In all this he pursued a course so obviously conducive to the best interests of his country, that no amount of opposition from the advocates of liberalism in the abstract, could have stood in his way. But he had other and sterner trials to encounter nearer home ; and they broke him down. Of the condition of Ireland at this time, under the influence of Daniel O'Connell and the Catholic Association, we do not purpose to give a detailed account. It was a state of perfect anarchy. The magistrates were intimidated ; the king's government was power- less. A central board, which met in Dublin, issued its orders, which were obeyed throughout the island. Meetings called by directions from that body, were attended by thousands ; tens of thousands walked in military array, as often as demonstrations were considered necessary. There were comparatively few crimes committed, little or no violence offered to persons or to property. But there was the most perfect organisation for either passive or active resistance to the laws of which history makes mention. And all avowedly directed to one end, — the repeal of the laws disqualify- ing Eoman Catholics from sitting in both Houses of Parliament, and from exercising elsewhere the same political rights which were exercised by their Protestant fellow-subjects. F F 4U MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF AVELLINGTOX. 1828. For years the struggle had gone on, till at last a bold measure suggested by Mr. O'Connell was tried with complete success. After proclaiming to the world that there was no statute in existence which disabled a Eoman Catholic from sitting in the House of Commons, he avowed his intention of standing for the representa- tion of the county of Clare, which the acceptance, by Mr. Vesey Fitzgerald, of the presidency of the Board of Control had rendered vacant. His cause was at once taken up by the whole body of Eoman Catholics in Ireland. All the old ties which bound land- lord 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 hust- ings was a triumph, and after a l)rief trial of his own weakness, Mr. Vesey P'itzgerald withdrew from the contest. The results cf the Clare election took all parties by surprise. It filled the Eoman Catholics and their supporters in Parliament with delight. It stirred a feeling of anger and scorn among their oppo- nents. The Duke saw that matters were brought by it to a crisis. To go on as former administrations had done, discussing the Catho- lic Question from year to year, and throwing out in the Lords bills passed by the Commons, was no longer possible. He must, there- fore, choose between two courses, both difficult, and even dangerous, though not, as it appeared to him, in the same degree. The government, if it should determine, under existing circum- stances, to maintain the statutes excluding Eoman Catholics from power, must ask for new laws, the old having quite broken down. They must bring in a bill, requiring candidates for seats in Par- liament to take at the hustings the oaths of supremacy and allegi- ance ; otherwise they could not prevent Eoman Catholics from contesting every vacant county and borough in the United Kingdom, and from becoming ipso facto members of Parliament, should con- stituencies see fit to elect them. Practically speaking, there might be small risk that either in England or Scotland this result would follow, at least to any extent. But what was to be expected in Ireland ? That every constituency, with the exception, perhaps, of the university and city of Dublin, and of the counties and boroughs of the north, would, whenever the opportunity offered, return Eoman Catholics; and that, the members so returned being prevented 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 ? For many years back the majorities in favour of repeal had gone on increasing session after session. Even the present Parliament, elected as it 182S. DIFFICULTIES IX LEGISLATIOX. 435 bad been under a strong Protestant pressure, bad swerved from its faitbfulness. Tbe small majority wbicli tbrew out Lord John Eussell's bill in 1827, bad been converted in 1828 into a minority; and among those who voted on that occasion with Mr, Peel, many gave him warning that hereafter they should consider themselves free to follow a different course. But perhaps it might be possible to get a bill passed to disfran- chise the Irish forty-shilliag freeholders, a class of voters who, as they had been created for acknowledged purposes 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 improbable an issue as the other. The disfran- chisement of the forty-shilling freeholders had indeed been talked of in former years : but if effected at all, it was to be in connection with a measure of Catholic Emancipation. To propose it now for the avowed purpose of rendering Catholic Emancipation 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 the Habeas Corpus Act, and to place all Ireland under military law. To ask for less would be ridiculous ; because the act against un- lawful assemblies had failed, and on account of its helplessness was suffered to expire. Now would Parliament grant such extensive powers to any government, merely that the government might be enabled to debar his Majesty's Eoman Catholic subjects a little longer from enjoying equal political privileges with Protes- tants ? 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 follow ? A general insur- rection, 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 Great 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 enjoyed, a renewal of agitation, only in a more hostile spirit, and the neces- sity 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 existing Parliament refused to give the powers which he asked, might dissolve, and go to the country with a strong Protestant cry ; and this cry might serve his purpose in England and Scotland. Doubtless ; but what would occur in Ireland ? The return of Roman Catholic members in the propor- 436 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF AVELLIXGTOX. 1628. tion of four to one over Protestants, and the virtual disfranchise- ment 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 to the same results which had been shown to be inevitable in the event of the existing Parliament acquiescing in the minister's views ? And was there not, at all events, a chance that the electors even of England and Scotland, might refuse to abet a policy so pregnant with danger to them- selves and to the commonwealth ? But why move at all ? Mr. O'Connell had been elected by the priests and rabble of Clare to represent them in Parliament. Let him retain this 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 call 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.* It is quite certain that both the Duke and ]Mr. Peel weighed these various contingencies, with an anxious desire of discovering some way of escape out of the difficulty, — some good reason why they should continue their opposition to the admission of Koman Catholics into Parliament. Their correspondence with the mem- bers of the Irish Government, and with the Irish law officers of the crown, clearly proves this.f Every conceivable expedient was sug- gested — short of provoking the rebellion, which it was their earnest desire to avert — and failed. Not Mr. Fitzgerald only, but Lord Anglesey, Mr. Lamb, Mr. Gregory, Major Warburton, all indeed whom they consulted, both soldiers and civilians, agreed that Ireland was kept down only by the presence of the army ; and even this restraint, should things long remain as they were, might fail to serve its purpose. We may smile when we read of doubts ex- pressed as to the motives which, at such a juncture, carried Mar- shal Macdonald from Paris to Dublin. Marshal Macdonald, there is good reason now to believe, never entertained a thought of mixing himself up in Irish politics. And of the secret fabrication * The substance of a paper in the Duke's hand\yriting, as yet unpublished, t See Mr. Peel's Narrative, edited by Lord Stanhope and Mr. Cardwell. 1828. ANTAGONISTIC MOTIVES OF ACTION. 437 of pikes, and the midnight drillings which went on, we may think as lightly as we have learned to do of the Chartist irruption into London in 1848. But taken in connection with well-known facts, such as the bold attitude assumed by the Eoman Catholic clergy, and the entire abandonment of the Irish landlords by their tenants at the hustings, and that too, in a case where the landlord's candi- date had, throughout his public life, been the consistent advocate of the repeal of the very laws against which the Irish people were banded, — taken in connection with such facts as these, even the rumour of French sympathy, and of secret and armed organisa- tions, was not without its weight in turning the balance of opinion in thoughtful minds towards a policy of concession. On the other hand, all the claims of party, all the ties of private friendship and public consistency, were against concession. The supporters of the present government, in both Houses of Parlia- ment, did not conceal the fact, that they gave up their prejudices on many other points, because of the faith which they reposed in the Duke and Mr. Peel, as staunch supporters of the constitution of 1688. The great body of the people, both in England and Scotland, regarded the Pope as Antichrist, and looked upon the point in dispute rather as a religious than as a political question. The King's objections to a repeal of the obnoxious laws were as strong as ever. Could these difficulties be overcome? Two courses presented themselves to the Duke at this juncture. He might go to the sovereign and explain, that he found himself unable to carry on the government, with a cabinet divided on so important a question, and with a growing party in favour of repeal in both houses. The King would in this case be obliged to make his choice; either to form a government, if he could, united in its opposition to the Roman Catholic claims, or to call to his councils men who should agree to bring in a bill for the repeal of the disabling laws. But the experiment to form a cabinet united against the Roman Catholics had already been tried : while a new cabinet united in favour of repeal, which must consist almost exclu- sively of the leaders of the Whig party, would certainly be defeated and overthrown on this, or some other question in anticipation of this, by the Tories. Not only, therefore, would the hindrances to good government not be removed, but they would be rendered more serious than ever through the failure of the attempt made by an administration too weak to remove them. This, then, was the first and most obvious of the two courses which presented themselves to the Duke : namely, to resign him- self and to dissolve the present administration, leaving it to his successor, Lord Grev or Lord Lansdowne, to settle the Catholic F F 3 438 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTOX. 18-28. question as he best might. The Duke knew, however, that neither Lord Grrey, nor Lansdowne, nor any other Whig statesman, could settle the Catholic question, even if he and Mr. Peel were to sup- port it out of office. But being convinced that the time had come when it oucfht to be settled, he examined the second course that was open to him, and embraced it. It was this : that postponing all other considerations to what he believed to be a great public duty, he should himself as prime minister endeavour to carry repeal, and to do so in such a manner as might as little as possible affect injuriously the established institutions of the country, and especially the Established Church. Having arrived at this conclusion, the Duke set himself at once to consider the line of action which it would be proper to adopt. On more than one previous occasion, the heads of the Roman Catholic party, including prelates and other dignitaries of the church, had themselves proposed securities. They had offered to allow to the crown a veto in the nomination of their bishops. They had professed themselves willing that their clergy should be paid by the State. They were prepared for exclusion from certain high offices, and ready to give any pledge which might be required, that they would not use their influence to injure the Established Church in its rights and property. Mr. O'Connell, speaking for them, had even consented to the disfranchisement of the forty- shilling freeholders. So far, therefore, the Duke had a base on which to rest his operations. But there were grave constitutional objections to bringing the King of England into direct relations with the Pope ; and a measure so strong as the unconditional dis- franchisement of the Irish forty-shilling freeholders was pretty sure, when it came to the point, to be rejected in Parliament. Moreover his Majesty's settled dislike to deviate on the Eoman Catholic question from the policy of his father was well known ; and the policy which the late Duke of York had with so much energy enunciated in the House of Lords, besides being supported by one at least of his royal brothers, was in great favour with the bulk of the English people out of doors. How were these difficul- ties to be overcome ? It was evident that till the King should be so far moved, as to induce him to examine dispassionately the whole condition of Ireland, no attempt to deal with the question of Eoman Catholic Emancipation could be made with any hope of success. The Duke resolved therefore to open that subject to his Majesty in the first instance, and so to approach it, that the feelings by wdiich his Majesty was known to be swayed should as little as possible be outraged. This was the more necessary, as the King s health had ]y28. THK DUKK'S MEMORAXDUM. 439 become of late very infirm. Dropsy in an aggravated form, which had long threatened, seemed to be gaining ground upon him ; and dropsy, as need scarcely be observed, not only enfeebles the body, but unfits the mind for exertion. Accordingly the Duke, after having prepared an elaborate memorandum, with the view of sub- mitting it to his colleagues, sent it on the 2nd of August to the King, and accompanied it with a letter, in which his reasons for taking this step were set forth in detail. It would be drawing too much upon the patience of the reader, were we to transcribe the Duke's memorandum at length. But of its contents some notice must be taken, in order to convey a tolerably accurate idea of the chain of thought which led the Duke to the conclusions at which he had now arrived. The memorandum, after assigning the reasons which had in- duced the writer to compile it, proceeds to point out that the in- fluence and the power of government in Ireland were no longer in the hands of its officers, but had been usurped by the dema- gogues of the Catholic Association, who, acting through the in- fluence of the Eoman Catholic clergy, directed the country as they thought proper. Up to that moment it might be doubted w^hether anything had been done in violation of the law. Mr. O'Connell's election, though inconsistent with the law, was not a breach of it. But everything had been done to manifest the influence and power of the demagogues of the Association, and of their agents the clergy of the Eoman Catholic Church, — their contempt for the legislature, their enmit}'^ to the British government and its esta- blishments, and their determination to overthrow the authority of that government in Ireland whenever an opportunity should offer. For this purpose, and with these views, Ireland had been com- pletely organised. This appeared in various recent events, but most particularly in the late election for the county of Clare. It was useless to enter into the details of that transaction ; but it was certain that the whole of the lower orders of the population (with the exception of a few Protestants) moved in regular military order, those of each parish under the direction of their priests, to the election town : that they there remained under the same in- fluence and direction till it came to the turn of those qualified to vote ; that they bivouacked in an open space near the town, or were cantoned in the houses in the neighbourhood on various nights; that they paid for their lodgings; that no violence, dis- order, or even insult was committed ; and that they returned after the triumph of the successful election was over, in the same order as th it in which they had come to Ennis. The Duke then goes on to call attention to the results of the F r 4 440 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTOX. 1828. election, to the amount of subscriptions raised for carrying it on, to the rejoicings in the southern and western districts, and to the absence of such rejoicings in Dublin and the north. From these premises he draws the conclusion that Ireland is thoroughly or- ganised ; that the Roman Catholic clergy are the instruments of this organisation ; that its management is in the hands of the demap-osfues of the Association ; and that the organisation of 1828 is so far superior to that of 1798, that the managers, by means of the Catholic rent, command considerable pecuniary resources which they have it in their power, by the use of the same influence over the people, to increase to a very large amount. It might fairly be assumed, then, that the demagogues of the Roman Catholic Asso- ciation held in their hands, at that moment, the political power and the fate of Ireland. Upon them depended whether the people should rise in rebellion, or should remain quiet; to what degree they should obey the law and the legally constituted authorities of the country, and whether they should submit themselves to the influence which rank and property possess in every well -consti- tuted locality. Accordingly, we find the influence of these demagogues paralys- ing the royal authority itself. The king cannot confer the honour of the peerage upon an Irish gentleman, a member of Parliament for an Irish county, because the government cannot, in prudence, incur the risk of exposing the public peace to the dangers which were avoided in Clare only by the prudence or fears of the dema- gogues of the Roman Catholic Association. His Majesty cannot appoint a member for an Irish county to an office, and still less can he dissolve his Parliament. The Lord- Lieutenant bad been insulted in his court, by the appearance there of one of these leaders decorated with the insignia of the pretended liberators, that is, of rebels; and the Roman Catholic Association had continued, up to that time, to meet, in contempt of the declared intention of Par- liament, if not contrary to the positive enactments of the law. Pursuing this line of argument, the Duke points out, that every day in which these evils continued, brought law and authority more and more into contempt; that there were no means of put- ting a stop to them, unless some act of open violence were com- mitted ; that the demagogues were too wily, prematurely to commit such acts ; and that with them, therefore, rested the power either of putting off a rebellion indefinitely, or of beginning it on the morrow. His next object is to show, how useless it would be to think of combating such evils in detail. If Parliament refused to adopt half measures, such as disfranchising forty-shilling freeholders, lS-28. HIS LETTER TO THE KIXG. 44I the influence of the crown would be weakened. If parliament assented to that proposal, the masses would still be under the influence of the priests, and probably an outbreak would be pre- cipitated. He then touches upon the inevitable results of such an outbreak — a civil war, in which the King's reputation must suffer; which would not be approved by a majority in the House of Com- mons ; and which, end as it might, must certainly be followed by concessions quite as extensive, probably more so, than any which could now be proposed. He, therefore, suggests the propriety of resorting- to concession, as one of the means of pacifying Ireland; and ends thus:— " It may be very doubtful whether the concession of Eoman Catholic Emancipation, with any guards or securities, or in any form, would pacify the country, or save it from the civil contest hanging over it. But whatever the King and his ministers might think of the chances of pacification which Eoman Catholic Eman- cipation would afford, it had become the duty of all to look these difiiculties in the face, and to lay the ground for getting the better of them. It would be necessary to conciliate Parliament, if pos- sible, and the public, to whatever measures might be prepared, in order that if we should be involved in this contest we might enter into it with the support of Parliament and of the people of England." The letter which enclosed the memorandum, of which we have here given the substance, expressed no more than the anxious desire of the writer, that his Majesty would carefidly consider it. He had not shown it to any of his colleagues ; and the object of it was to obtain his Majesty's permission to take into consideration the whole case, with a view to the adoption of some measure to be proposed to Parliament for the pacification of Ireland. What the Duke desired was, that his Majesty would be pleased to permit him to consider this question in communication with the Lord Chancellor and Mr, Peel ; that he might be allowed to bring under his Majesty's review the result of such consideration; and that afterwards, with his Majesty's approbation, he should proceed to such ulterior measures as his Majesty might think pro- per, with a view to ascertain the sentiments of others before he shoidd finally submit that result to his colleagues in the cabinet. According to this mode of proceeding his Majesty would have the control over this subject in his own hands till the last moment; at the same time that he would have done his government and the country the justice to have considered it fairly.* * The siibstanee of the Duke's letter, as nearly as possible in his own words. 442 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLIXGTOX. 18-28. There lies before us a memorandum in the Duke's handwriting, dated March 30th, 1828, which was evidently drawn up for his own guidance, should circumstances impose upon him the necessity at any future time of vindicating the course which he took on that occasion. We do not feel at liberty to transcribe that document ; but its argument, clearly laid down, and ably sustained, runs thus. Shortly after the 2nd of April, accounts were received in Eng- land of the speech made by Mr. Dawson at a meeting at London- derry. This speech, proceeding from such a person, created the greatest suspicions of the intentions of the King's ministers. Bruns- wick clubs were established in Ireland. Lord Kenyon and the Duke of Newcastle published their letters in England ; and every- thing indicated that the public mind was not in a state to receive and consider with calmness any proposition for the settlement of Ireland. What was passing did not fail to have its effect on the King's mind; and this circumstance, and his Majesty's indispo- sition, induced the Duke to postpone the communication to his ]\Iajesty of anything further upon the subject. The Duke attended the King at Windsor early in October, when his Majesty expressed himself as strongly affected on account of the state of affairs. He was anxious to dissolve his Parliament ; to encourage the formation of Brunswick clubs throughout the coun- try ; and to take advantage of the feeling which occasioned the formation of these clubs, to go to a general election. The King's state of health at that time prevented the Duke from holding much conversation with his Majesty. He therefore wrote him a letter, of which No. 3 is the extract. At length, on the 16th of Novem- ber, finding that his Majesty was better in health, the Duke sent his Majesty the letter and paper, marked No. 4 and 5, to which he received the answer marked No. 6. The letter here alluded to, as marked No. 3, puts forth in detail the Duke's reasons why a dissolution of Parliament, under the cir- cumstances of the times, ought not to be thought of. It explains that the evils of which he had spoken in his first memorandum could not be remedied, that they would scarcely be temporarily alleviated, by the excitement throughout the country of a spirit of hostility in Protestants towards Roman Catholics ; and by the en- couragement thereby given to exact pledges from candidates against all further concessions to the latter body. He shows that the go- vernment, as then constituted, could not encourage the growth of such a spirit, and that it would be impossible for any minister to give encouragement to it, and yet carry on the affairs of govern- ment to the satisfaction of the nation at large. He then points out that the resistance to the law in Ireland was passive, not active; 1828. THE duke's PRIVATE MEMORAXDU^I. 443 and that without some overt breach of the law, not even military force could overcome such resistance. He next proceeds to observe, that he is suggesting no impossible hypothesis by assuming that the Eoman Catholic tenantry of the country might refuse to pay tithes or rents. No doubt the clergy and the landlords had it in their power to appeal to the law ; but how could the law be enforced ? How could they distrain for rents or tithes upon millions of tenantry ? This measure, as it would probably be the first of resistance and rebellion in Ireland, so it would occasion the ruin of all his Ma- jesty's loyal subjects residing in that country, and of many in Eng- land. And it was necessary to observe that it would give the rebellion a vast revenue in money, of which his Majesty's loyal subjects would have been deprived. The Duke then proceeds to say, that expecting this measure of resistance and rebellion to be adopted, he was very averse to involve those who might be its victims in political discussions connected with the state of Ireland, which, after all, must be decided in Parliament. He did not object to their associating together, for the protection of their own lives and properties ; but looking to the state of society in Ireland, and to the opinions entertained respecting the causes of it, he was of opinion that they would do well to leave political questions to be settled in Parliament. It is worthy of remark, that this dread of associating out of Par- liament for political purposes constituted a sort of passion with the Duke. He would never listen to any proposal of the kind, no matter from what source proceeding, or for what object intended; and in principle he was right. Even during the heats and con- fusion of the Eeform agitation he refused to sanction the formation of constitutional societies ; and of Brunswick clubs he entertained almost as great a horror as of the Catholic Association itself. What was to be done with society, thus rapidly breaking up into its elements? The law must clearly be vindicated; and, inasmuch as in its existing state it appeared to have lost all hold on the respect of those to whom it applied, it must be modified, so as to meet the altered state of things which had arisen. 444 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1828. CHAP. XXXII. THE duke's plan OF KOilAIT CATHOLIC EMANCIPATION. — HE COiUMXTNICATES WITH HIS COLLEAGUES, AND WITH THE HEADS OF THE CHURCH. — THE RE- SULTS OF THESE COMMUNICATIONS. Having arrived at these conclusions, and in some measure prepared the king's mind to consider dispassionately whatever scheme of relief might ultimately be proposed to liim, the Duke set himself to arrange his own thoughts on the subject, and threw them into the shape of an elaborate memorandum, which he submitted first to his Majesty, and afterwards to his colleagues, with a view to its receiving from them individually their best attention, before it should be taken up and discussed in the cabinet. He prefaced that memorandum with a letter to the King, in which the state of Ireland is described with a degree of painful accuracy which is quite appalling. It was becoming, he observed, day by day more intolerable. In the south, every evil which could afflict a country, short of actual rebellion, prevailed. Combinations had been entered into to resist the payment of rents and tithes to members of Brunswick clubs, under which title was included every member of the Church of England resident in the country. The Eoman Catholics had bound themselves not to have any dealings, com- mercial or social, with members of these clubs. A case was reported to the Secretary of State of a gentleman, a member of a Brunswick club, whose lands happened to be let to Eoman Catho- lic tenants. They had all thrown up their farms. There were instances of Eoman Catholic labourers refusing to work for their employers, because they were members of Brunswick clubs. The consequence of this was, that the agricultural property of these gentlemen lay exposed, at that critical period of the year, to the weather, and, of course, to ruin. It had been reported from vari- ous quarters that Protestants could not venture to move a hundred yards from their own houses ; and the Duke was able, of his own knowledge, to assert, that respectable persons, such as retired officers of the army, and officers on half-pay, were quitting Ireland because they looked upon it as a country not in a state of civilisa- tion ; and all these evils were of such a nature, that none of them could be remedied by the positive enactment of law. 1828. THE DUKE WRITES TO THE KING. 445 On the other hand, nearly all the speakers at the Brunswick clubs in England, as well as in Ireland, not less than the public in general, looked for some arrangement of the Eoman Catholic ques- tion to be proposed by government. Even Lord Winchelsea had written to say that he would agree to such an arrangement ; while in Ireland many Protestants were prepared to go as far in the way of concession as the Eoman Catholics themselves could desire. Knowing all this, the writer was perfectly satisfied that no minister could advise his Majesty not to take into consideration the state of Ireland. The questions which arose were therefore these : — Could that subject be taken into consideration? Could any measures be pro- posed with the faintest prospect of success, from which a consider- ation of the Roman Catholic question should be excluded ? And must not the concession to Roman Catholics of seats in Parliament be among the measures proposed for the settlement of the Roman Catholic question ? Finally, the Duke implored the King to look dispassionately at these matters, and carefully to weigh the plan which he took the liberty of enclosing for his Majesty's consideration. For he sub- mitted it with the firm conviction on his mind, that, if what was therein proposed could be carried, the Roman Catholic affairs of the empire would be placed upon a better footing than at any time since the Reformation. Indeed, the State would acquire strength from the arrangement, because it might be attended by any others which the preservation of the peace of the country seemed to render necessary. Not satisfied with this strong appeal to the good sense and judg- ment of the sovereign, the Duke sought permission, before his Majesty should determine against taking his plan into considera- tion, to lay it before the heads of the church, particularly the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Bishops of London, Durham, Win- chester, Lincoln, Chester, and Oxford. He could not pretend to foretell the consequences of the determination to do nothing, to his Majesty's government, to the peace of the country, or to the interests, particularly of his Majesty's loyal subjects in Ireland. But this fact he must submit : the King had still the matter in his own hands. If seats in Parliament were conceded, his Majesty could attach to such concession any conditions or arrangements that his Majesty might think proper ; but no human being could answer for the consequences of delay. The Duke's plan, drawn up and settled on the 7th of August, 1828, embraced eight separate points. The first provided for throwing open, with certain specified 446 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1828. exceptions, all offices under the crown to Koraan Catholics, on condition of their taking certain oaths, as prescribed for others of his Majesty's subjects. The second proposed to suspend, for one year, or during the current session of Parliament, the acts requiring members of the United Parliament of Great Britain and Ireland to take the oath of supremacy, and subscribe a declaration against the doctrine of transubstantiation. The third limited the right of voting in Ireland to freeholders who should pay to the parish, barony, or county cess, or to the whole of them, five pounds sterling or upwards per annum. The fourth stipulated for the means (300,000^. a year) of taking the Eoman Catholic clergy into the pay of the State. The fifth stipulated, that the Roman Catholic clergy should receive licences from the Crown, countersigned by a Secretary of State, or from the Lord-Lieutenant, countersigned by the Chief Secretary, without which it should not be lawful for them to per- form any clerical function in Ireland. The seventh declared that persons officiating without such licence should be deemed guilty of misdemeanour 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. The eighth and last, provided that no convent or monastery, or establishment 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 himself in the canon law, and in the custonas of the universal church. As long as points purely political came to be considered, the Duke was a safe guide for himself; and in case he might distrust his own judg- ment, he had the Lord Chancellor and other eminent constitutional lawyers to consult. In matters directly or indirectly affecting the spiritual rights of the Church of Rome, he was compelled to seek for information elsewhere, and he found it. And here, without un- dervaluing the assistance rendered by others, we must be permitted to particularise one correspondent, to whom he made frequent re- ferences, and from whom he never 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 subject, complicated as it was. 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 Concordat or otherwise, of continental sovereigns ; and the result 1828. THE DUKE'S PLAX. 447 was sucli an accumulation of evidence as left the Duke no reason to distrust the course of legislation on which he proposed to enter. We do not feel at liberty to transcribe the bishop's letters ; but sooner or later, they will probably see the light ; and when they do, it will be found, that no man ever less merited the obloquy which was heaped upon him, or more earnestly or wisely strove, at a critical moment, to guard from hurt the Protestant Church of England, than the learned and venerable Bishop of Exeter. The arguments with which the Duke supported his plan, when submitting it to the consideration, first of the King, and afterwards of his colleagues, were able, and to our mind conclusive. He justified the exclusion of Eoman Catholics from certain high offices of State, such as that of Lord Chancellor, First Lord of the Treasury, Secretary of State for the Home Department, Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster, Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, because all were, to a greater or less degree, connected with the distribution of church patronage. No honest Koman Catholic could, or would, undertake to present to benefices, far less to appoint to bishoprics in a Protestant church. And for the same reason, because Roman Catholics could not educate for the Protestant ministry, it was just that the law should prevent their becoming chancellors of any of the universities, heads of houses, provosts, or fellows of colleges, or even masters of schools of royal foundation. With respect to the suspension, in the first instance, of existing laws, as an ex- periment, and an attempt to limit the number of seats to be filled by Eoman Catholics in either House of Parliament, his mind seems not to have been quite made up. He was favourable, rather than otherwise, to the former scheme ; he was averse to adopt the latter. But he entertained no doubt at all in regard to the ex- pediency of adding a property qualification to the right of voting then exercised by forty-shilling freeholders in Ireland. Nor was he at all scrupulous about taking the Roman Catholic clergy of Ireland into the pay and under the surveillance of the Crown. Two bodies of Protestant Dissenters, in Ireland, already received subsidies from the State. The arrangement, founded on political considerations, had produced the best effects. There was no reason why the principle thus established should not, for political reasons, be extended further. And in regard to the licensing system, there was, in his opinion, everything to recommend ; nothing, as it bore either on the liberty of the subject, or the rights of the Crown, to be urged against it. It would be unfair towards his memory were we to state his views on this point, except in his own words. "The Sovereign of Great Britain, at his coronation, — every mem- ber of either House of Parliament, on first taking his seat, — every 448 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLIXGTOX. 1828. magistrate, and other individual in authority, has sworn that the Pope neither has, nor ought to have any authority, pre-eminence, or superiority, in any cause, ecclesiastical or secular, within this realm. The Acts of Parliament requiring these oaths affirm the same thing ; yet, within the realm, there are some millions of per- sons who hold opinions the reverse of those asserted by the law. Whether is it better to alter the laws, of which the vast majority approve, in order to satisfy the scruples of the minority, and give them a status which they have not, or, preserving the old laws, to make such arrangements as shall enable the minority to retain their religious opinions, and to celebrate their religious rites, subject to the general control of the government under which they live ? It is not to be forgotten, that though fallen practically into disuse, the laws which prohibit the performance of mass in Ireland, and subject to fine and imprisonment priests so officiating, are still on the statute-book. \\Tiatever freedom of action the Irish Roman Catholic clergy exercise in that respect, they there- fore exercise at their peril. For the power rests with the govern- ment, should circumstances ever compel them to make use of it, of carrying into effect laws which have never been repealed, and of the existence of which every priest is aware. " On former occasions, when schemes for Catholic Emancipation were entertained, the safeguard for the established church on the one hand, and for the consciences of Romanists on the other, had been the arrangement of a Concordat between the Crown and the Pope; whereby the former should exercise a veto upon all appoint- ments made by the latter to the episcopate. Such a Concordat could not however be entered into without admitting that the Pope possessed a power which the coronation oath and the oath of supremacy deny, and which is declared by various acts of the legis- lature, to have no existence. " But an admission of this sort can only be obtained by the repeal of laws which are intermingled with the very core of the English constitution ; and the objections to this repeal are as obvious as they are weighty. " Again, the King of England cannot, of his own authority, nominate to Roman Catholic bishoprics : first, because the act would be antagonistic to the relations in which the Crown stands towards the Established Church of England and Ireland ; and next, because such nomination would be resisted by the whole body of His Majesty's Roman Catholic subjects. " Nor is the force of these objections lessened by reference to the relations in which the Court of Rome stands towards Continental States, of which the sovereigns do not profess the Roman Catholic 1828. THE duke's SCHEME. 449 faith. In Prussia, for example, the King, though a Protestant, appoints to bisohprics, as they fall vacant, in the Roman Catholic portions of his dominions. But he does so in virtue of concordats, entered into between the Pope and his Majesty's Roman Catholic predecessors ; in Silesia, according to an old arrangement, between the Pope and the sovereigns of the House of Austria ; in the territories on the right bank of the Rhine, according to concordats, between the former sovereigns of these countries and the Pope ; in the territories on the left bank of the Rhine, according to a concordat settled between the Pope and Napoleon. " Again, in Holland, where, till very lately, no concordats existed, neither bishop nor priest of the Romish Church can officiate, except by license from the civil magistrate ; while in Sweden a Vicar Apostolic, and only one, receives the royal license to discharge the fvinctions of his office. In Russia alone, Catherine the Grreat, it appears, has established, by her own authority, a Roman Catholic archbishop at Mohelow, and the archbishop appointed to the diocese ordains bishops and priests to act under him. But besides that, it might be doubted whether the Roman Catholics of the archdiocese of Mohelow were ever very orthodox, the Pope, it seems, ultimately gave way, and by recognising, confirmed the appointments. " The King of England cannot, however, for reasons already assigned, follow such a precedent." It was by such a process of reasoning as this, that the Duke arrived at the conclusion, " that the King of England could enter into no diplomatic relations with the Pope ; that a concordat, which implies that the Pojie has something within the realm to concede, could never be concluded between him and a sovereign who, in his coronation oath, and by repeated Acts of Parliament, affirms, that no foreign prince, prelate, or potentate, hath, or ought to have, any jurisdiction, power, superiority, or authority within these realms. Such concordats as have force in Prussia can never be entered into here : because, except in North America, the King of England has acquired no territory by conquest or cession from any Roman Catholic sovereigns ; and if concluded, it would be impossible to carry them into effect. It would be equally use- less to consider the arrangements which other Roman Catholic, or anti-Roman Catholic sovereigns might have made for accomplish- ing a similar purpose. They all rest upon the same assumption, that the Pope has something in each country to concede ; a principle which cannot be admitted as long as the laws in England continue what tliey are. " The clear sequence from all this is, that till some, or all of a a 450 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1828. the Acts of Parliament wliicli form the basis and establishment of the Protestant religion in this country are repealed, it will be impossible to assimilate the form of securities for the State in its relations with his Majesty's Eoman Catholic subjects to those which exist elsewhere. " But it appears to me that a system of license from the Crown to Eoman Catholic priests will meet all the difficulties of the case. For such licenses, if made liable to be withdrawn at the pleasure of the Crown, and supported by a law which should pro- hibit the performance of ecclesiastical functions without them, — particularly if the law extended the prohibitions, as well as the penalties on disobedience to priests, whom the Crown might deprive of their stipends, — would operate quite as effectually as a veto upon the nomination of bishops by the Pope, or as the establishment of the principle of nomination itself by the Crown. " It is worthy of attention, that the whole system proposed is the creation of the English law, and will be carried into execution by virtue of legal enactment. Popery is of foreign growth, and it is more consistent with the dignity of his Majesty's crown that his Majesty should license the dependents of the See of Eome to exercise their ecclesiastical functions within his dominions, than that he should accept from the Pope any pretended authority of nomination, or any check upon such nomination, by the Pope himself. We shall thus establish the greatest possible extension of toleration of the Eoman Catholic religion, with the best security for the State by the power of the State itself." After noticing and getting rid of other possible objections, as that the licensing system would be subversive of the principle of toleration, and that it would place the priesthood too much under the influence of the Crown, the Duke proceeds to argue against the renewal of direct political relations with Eome. He doubts whether the Eoman Catholics themselves would desire the esta- blishment of such relations, accompanied as it must be by increased watchfulness on the part of the government ; and he is satisfied that without this increase of vigilance, no Protestant parliament would consent to establish them. Finally he comes to the following conclusions : That whatever titles the Eoman Catholic dignitaries might receive from their own people, they should receive only within the walls of their places of worship ; that measures should be adopted not only to discourage the growth of religious houses, but to settle the terms on which admission might be obtained to those already in existence ; and that payment out of the Conso- lidated Fund to the Eoman Catholic clergy in England and Scotland would not, under existing circumstances, be necessary. 1828. SIR ROBERT PEEL's VIEWS. 451 It does not appear that the reception awarded by his Majesty to this scheme for settling the Roman Catholic difficulty, however gracious it might be, was very cordial. The permission asked, to bring the subject under the notice of others, was not, indeed, with- held ; but it was accompanied by a prohibition to mix up the King's name in any manner with the proceeding ; and by an assur- ance that his Majesty continued to be, on principle, as much opposed as ever to concession in any shape, or to any extent. Under these circumstances, the Duke could proceed in the matter only as with an arrangement purely hypothetical. How his plan, with its accompanying explanation, was handled by Sir Robert Peel, the posthumous volume, for which we are indebted to Earl Stanhope and Mr. Cardwell, explains. Sir Robert supported the Duke's doubts in regard to the policy of suspending any portion of the law as it stood ; which, indeed, could not, according to his view, be done, unless the principle were adopted in regard to that proceeding which, while the Test and Corporation Acts con- tinued in force, had dictated the passing of an annual bill of indemnity. He was opposed, likewise, but more decidedly, to the substitution of a 51. franchise for the 40s. freehold, on the ground that the criterion must be imperfect at the best, and that by good or bad management of the local expenditure votes could either be created or destroyed, as suited the convenience of those most deeply interested in electioneering movements. Strange to say, however, he expressed himself in favour of some scheme for limit- ing the number of Roman Catholic members, comparing it to the arrangements which had twice before been entered into, — first, at the union of Scotland with England, and next, at the parliamentary union between Grreat Britain and Ireland. Yet this will appear to men of ordinary powers of mind to have been by far the weakest part in the whole of the Duke's plan; for, in addition to the objections which he himself urges, it lay open, when brought side by side with the cases quoted in support of it, to one in- superable difficulty. The old settlements were made by parlia- ments which, as they represented distinct nationalities, were competent to give and take, in order to effect the amalgamation of which the nations represented by them were desirous. Whereas an act passed in 1828, or 1829, to declare that only a cei'tain number of persons, professing a certain form of Christianity, should be eligible to seats in the Houses of Lords and Commons, would be an encroachment upon the rights of the Crown, and the constitutional privileges of all the electors in all parts of the United Kingdom. There seems to have been little difference of opinion between o G 2 452 MEMOm OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON". 1828. Sir Eobert and the Duke in regard to the good policy of bringing the Irish priests, by some arrangement or other, under the control of the civil power. But Sir Robert, more prone than his illustrious colleague to foresee, perhaps to imagine, difficulties, expressed him- self apprehensive of determined opposition to the proposal of pay- ing the priests. His grounds of fear were threefold. First, he apprehended that by taking into its pay the clergy of the Roman Catholic Church, the Grovernment would be charged with seeking to set up two religious establishments. But this, which he brought forward as a constitutional difficulty, was surely no difficulty at all. The mere payment by the Grovernment of the clergy of any particular Church does not elevate that Church into the rank of an establishment; otherwise, in France, where the clergy of many deno- minations are so paid, there must be many establishments. And in Ireland, the Grovernment already paid two dissenting bodies, neither of which ever set up a claim to be treated as an establish- ment. Indeed the difference between the established and other churches in Ireland and in England, is this : that while the latter are open to receive pay from the Grovernment, the former neither claim, nor can well receive such pay ; Grovernment doing for the established clergy exactly what it does for other corporate or private proprietors, by insuring to them the continued enjoyment of pro- perty, which had been made over to their predecessors ages ago, sometimes by sovereigns, sometimes by private persons. The United Church of England and Ireland is, indeed, a State church, because all its members acknowledge the king's supremacy ; and its bishops, sitting in the House of Lords, constitute the third estate — the lords spiritual — which is referred to as passing or advising every act of Parliament. But the State of England does not pay the Church any more than it pays the Universities of Oxford and Cambridge, or the several colleges connected with these Universities. On the other hand, a bill for the payment of the Roman Catholic or any other clergy out of the Consolidated Fund, must affect the clergy of the Church of England, as it affects all tax-paying members of the community. They will be called upon to contribute their share towards the general amount, and they will do it. But apart from this, there were other objections to the arrange- ment. Would the Roman Catholic priests consent to receive payment from the Grovernment on such terms ? And if they did, would the Protestant people of England be willing to pay for the performance of a species of worship which they regarded as idolatry ? There was reason to expect that opposition to the receipt of 18-28. THE DUKE AND THE BISHOPS. 453 state pay, if it came at all, would not come from the priests. On more than one previous occasion, the representatives of that body had expressed themselves willing to receive Grovernment pay. And though the necessity of receiving licenses also from the Crown might now offend the more ardent among them, it was pro- bable that, putting the substantial gain against the unsubstantial loss, the arrangement would not be generally refused. But if it were, what then? Only pass the bill, and having law on its side, the Government would find little difficulty in compelling the priests to receive licenses ; more especially since it would be ac- companied by a boon to the importance of which the curates could scarcely prove insensible. But would the bill be passed ? Would the Protestant spirit of the nation allow it to pass ? Here lay the great stumbling-block of all ; and in the hope of removing it the Duke and Mr. Peel entered into communication with the leading prelates of the Church of England. Lloyd, Bishop of Oxford, seems to have been Peel's chief confident. Besides Dr. Phillpotts, the Duke corresponded and held personal conferences with the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Bishops of London, Durham, Winchester, and Chester. It would little interest the general reader to be told into what channels these dis- cussions fell, and by what arguments each of the contending parties supported his own opinions. Suffice it to state that the Duke found the prelates pliant, where he might have expected them to be obdurate ; and obdurate on the very points which he held to be most conducive to the well-being of the Church and of the realm^ The consequence was that all the most valuable arrangements in his proposed bill, the clauses which provided for the paying and licensing of priests, and such like, 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 altosrether. C G 3 454 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1828. CHAP. XXXIII. idE. Dawson's speech. — its effects on the ptibiic mim). — the duke's CORRESPONDENCE WITH DR. CURTIS. — LORD ANGLESEY RECALLED. — DIS- CUSSIONS WITH THE KING. — THE ROMAN CATHOLIC RELIEF BILL. — THE DUEL "\VITH LORD WINCHELSEA. All this while the condition of Ireland continued to be lamentable in the extreme. Agitation, indeed, seems to have reached the ■utmost extent of violence which it could attain, when that inci- dent befell of which the Duke, in a memorandum elsewhere referred to, made mention. Mr. George Eobert Dawson, one of the Lords of the Treasury, and still more a man of mark in con- sequence of his connection by marriage with Sir Eobert Peel, delivered a speech at a public dinner in Derry, which fell with ominous sound on the ears of all who listened to it, and was soon taken up and quoted at every public meeting throughout the United Kingdom. He made allusions in it to the hopelessness of endeavouring to govern Ireland while parties stood so far apart; and hinted at the wisdom, not less than the duty, of striving to meet on common ground, after mutual concessions. Instantly the Orangemen took fire. Their motto was, " No surrender ! " If the chiefs iji whom they had heretofore trusted were about to abandon them, they would stand the more firmly, shoulder to shoulder, and put down popery, or perish in the attempt. The Catholic Association, on the other hand, accepting the speech as a feeler, became more arrogant and threatening than before. They would not concede one iota. Mr. O'Connell, who in 1825 had himself proposed the disfranchisement of the forty-shilling freeholders, now denounced the scheme as treason against the people. The honest voter, however poor, had the same right to his political privileges as the king had to his crown, and if any attempt were made to deprive him of these privileges, Mr. O'Connell would be the first to draw the sword, and to die, if necessary, on the scaffold or in the field. Whether Mr. Dawson took his own line on the present occasion, or acted on the suggestion of others, was a doubtful point at the time, and we are not now in a position to settle it. But his pro- 1828. ME. PEEL WISHES TO RESIGN. 455 ceeding was promptly disavowed by the Cabinet, Mr. Dawson him- self being deprived at the same time of his office. Meanwhile, Lord Anglesey wrote continually to say that repeal must be con- ceded ; that the times were peculiarly favourable for concession, because the Roman Catholic bishops had become jealous of Mr. O'Connell and the Association, and would therefore accept any terms which the Grovernment might propose. And, finally, that though as yet the country was quiet, he would not be answerable for the consequences, if, after the meeting of Parliament, Govern- ment should do nothing ; for, as he more than hinted, the soldiers were tampered with, and could not in several regiments be depended upon. We believe now, as the Duke believed at the moment, that so far as the troops were concerned. Lord Anglesey was deceiving himself or was deceived by others. But the Duke believed, also, that affairs were in a very unsatisfactory state, and that it would be impossible to go on much longer without applying a remedy to existing evils. It was at this anxious moment that the Duke of Clarence, under circumstances of a somewhat delicate nature, ceased to be Lord High Admiral of England ; and that Lord Melville, removing from the Board of Control, took his place as First Lord of the Ad- miralty. He was succeeded in Cannon Row by Lord Ellenborough ; but the office of Privy Seal, which thereby became vacant, the Duke did not immediately fill up. The fact is, that he was a good deal perplexed, and rendered anxious by the indecision of Mr. Peel. Though convinced so long ago as 1827 that the battle of Anti-Catholicism could not be maintained for ever, — though enter- ing freely into the Duke's views, and sending through him to the King an able paper in support of these views, Mr. Peel was naturally desirous to escape the painful and humiliating task of proposing a measure which, both in and out of office, he had throughout his public life consistently opposed. He again and again expressed his anxiety to resign, not' with a view to resist emancipation, but to plead for it as an independent member of Parliament, in which capacity he believed he should be able to promote the Duke's views far more effectually than by continuing in the administration. The Duke, on the other hand, was satisfied that Mr. Peel's resignation would render the passing of an emanci- pation act impossible for him ; and if impossible for him, still more so, admitting that there could be degrees of impossibility, for any other statesman. He explained his reasons for this belief very fully to his colleague, yet left him free to decide u]3on his own course of action. " I propose to keep the Privy Seal vacant," he wrote, " because I am under the necessity of looking forward to C Q 4 4S6 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON". 1828. future misfortunes. I consider you not pledged to anything ; but I cannot but look forward to the not impossible case of your find- ing yourself obliged to leave us to ourselves. In this case I must have the command of all the means possible to carry on the King's service, and I would keep other offices vacant if I could." We have alluded to the excitement, which was caused among the Protestants and Eoman Catholics of Ireland by Mr. Dawson's speech at Deny. At first it appeared as if the long-expected col- lision was about to take place, for the Catholic Association assumed at once a threatening attitude, and the Brunswick clubs met them with characteristic alacrity. Some blood, indeed, was shed; but either because they shrank from an appeal to arms, or because they had received secret information respecting the disposition of the Grovernment in their favour, the heads of the Association met in Dublin, and issued an order not to break the peace. It was promptly obeyed. No more meetings were held, no more inflam- matory harangues delivered ; and then, and not till then, came out a proclamation from the Lord-Lieutenant, denouncing as illegal proceedings which a power superior to his had already suppressed. All this at once irritated and confounded the Protestant party in both kingdoms. They were unable to comprehend what the objects of the Government could be in first tolerating agitation so long as it went forward, and then declaring it to be illegal as soon as it had subsided of its own accord. Yet hoping, and perhaps believing, that the Government wavered only because it stood in need of in- creased moral support, they resolved to give such support, and to give it effectually. The men of Kent set the example. Pennenden Heath, near Maidstone, became the scene of a monster meeting, at which the Earl of Winchelsea and Sir Edward Knatchbull, one of the county members, took a leading part ; and from which there went forth, not only a petition against the admission of Eoman Catholics to power, but an assurance that the sovereign would be supported in his endeavours to restore tranquillity in Ireland, to the utmos-t extent of their means, by his loyal Protestant subjects. This was on the 24th of October ; and the example so set, was promptly and vigorously followed in other places. Indeed, the English Eoman Catholics themselves began to exhibit symptoms of alienation from their Irish co-religionists. They disapproved of the violent language of Mr. O'Connell and his fellow-agitators ; they were prepared to give the securities which Mr. O'Connell and the Association refused ; in a word, they not only believed the course which the Association was following to be disloyal, but they were persuaded that its effect would be to throw insurmountable obstacles in the way of a satisfactory settlement of the Catholic question. 1828. THE DUKE AND DE. CURTIS. 457 Such was the general aspect of affairs, when the Duke of Wel- lington received a letter from Dr. Curtis, the titular primate of Ireland, setting forth the miserable condition of the country, and pointing out that a prolonged adherence to a policy of indecision must lead to very serious consequences. Dr. Curtis wrote with the greater freedom, that he and his illustrious correspondent had been acquainted many years. When the British army was in Spain, Dr. Curtis was head of one of the colleges in Salamanca, and found means, through his position and from the influence which it gave him, to supply the British general with a great deal of useful information. His services at that time were not forgotten, either by the Duke or by the English Government. Interest was made for him at Eome, and the Pope, grateful for the part which England had taken in reinstating him in his sovereignty, sent Dr. Curtis to Ireland as Eoman Catholic primate. Under such cir- cumstances the doctor's letter was received in the same spirit of candour with which it appeared to have been written ; and in the course of a day or two the Duke addressed to him the following reply: — "London, December 11th, 1828. " My dear Sir, " I have received your letter of the 4th, and I assure you that you do me justice in believing that I am sincerely anxious to witness the settlement of the Eoman Catholic question, which, by benefiting the state, would confer a benefit on every individual belonging to it. But I confess that I see no prospect of such settlement. Party has been mixed up with the consideration of the question to such a degree, and such violence pervades every discussion of it, that it is impossible to expect to prevail upon men to consider it dispassionately. If we could bury it in oblivion for a short time, and employ that time diligently in the con- sideration of its difficidties on all sides (for they are very great), I should not despair of seeing a satisfactory remedy." Though the letter was marked " private and confidential," the Duke could scarcely expect that his correspondent would keep the contents of it entirely to himself. On the contrary, he must have anticipated that Dr. Curtis would make them known among his friends ; and if he ventured to hope that men of influence might thereby be induced to exert themselves in the cause of order and tranquillity, who will blame him for so writing? But he never imagined for a moment that an old friend would use as an instru- ment of offence what had been put into his hands in a spirit of conciliation. Such, however, was the course which Dr. Curtis thought fit to pursue. He sent the Duke's letter to Mr. O'Connell. It was read, and publicly commented upon, amid vociferous cheering, at a meeting of the Association ; and Dr. Curtis was com- 458 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTOIf. 1828. missioned to make the Duke aware, that agitation not only would not cease, but that it would grow day by day more bitter, till a full and unconditional measure of emancipation was granted to his Majesty's Eoman Catholic subjects. Not satisfied with this, Dr. Curtis transmitted a copy of the Duke's letter to Lord Anglesey ; and received, by return of post, an answer as unwise in its object as it was ill-advised in its expres- sions. Like the Duke, Lord Anglesey had marked his communi- cation "private and confidential." But in an evil hour, when smarting under a rebuke which for other reasons had fallen upon him, he suggested that his letter might be made public ; and the Association, too happy to damage the Grovernment, printed it in the Dublin newspapers. This was on the 1st of January, 1829, the very day after Lord Anglesey had been warned by the Duke of Wellington that he might expect shortly to be recalled. It was impossible to overlook so flagrant a breach of official etiquette, and the recall, which the Duke had threatened on the 31st of December, instantly took place. So passed day after day, and week after week. The Duke had borne the mortification of seeing his measure shorn of its best features. He had laboured to bring the King to a sense of the real state of the question, and had succeeded only in part. He was now doomed to suffer no slight measure of anxiety in his com- munications with Mr. Peel. That gentleman, on the 12th of January, transmitted to him a paper, which took exactly the same view of the condition of Ireland as the Duke had already taken, with a request that he would show it to the King. He did show it; and saw, without surprise, that his Majesty, though moved, was not persuaded by it. But that which distressed him most was a repetition of the desire, which on more than one occasion had been expressed by Mr. Peel, that the Duke would consent to his retire- ment, for a time at least, from the Cabinet. The following letter will show both how he received this application, and what his views of the future at that moment were : — "London, 17th January, 1829. " My dear Peel, " I entirely concur in the sentiments and opinions contained in the paper on the existing state of questions respecting Ireland, which, by your desire, I have given to the King ; and I ana equally of opinion with you that the only chance we have of getting the better of all the evils of the position in which the country is placed, is, that we should consider in Cabinet the whole situation of Ireland, and propose to Parliament the measures Avhich may be the result of that consideration. You have been informed of what has passed between the King and me, and certain of the 1829. THE KING GIVES WAY. 459 bishops and me, upon tliis subject, and you must see the difficulties with which we shall be surrounded in taking this course. " I tell you faii'ly, that I do not see the smallest chance of getting the better of these difficulties if you should not continue in office. Even if I shoixld be able to obtain the King's consent to enter upon the course which it will probably be found the wisest to adopt, which it is almost certain I shall not, if I should not have your assistance in office, the difficulties in Parliament will be augmented ten-fold in consequence of your secession, while the means of getting the better of them will be diminished in the same proportion. " I entreat you, then, to consider the subject, and to give us and the coixntry the benefit of your advice and assistance in this most difficult and important crisis." It would be hard to condemn Sir Robert Peel, because at such a crisis he exhibited less firmness of purpose than the great man with whom he was associated. The measure which he had assisted, if not to frame, at all events to criticise, had been cut down by unskilful hands, till it seemed to him to have lost its proportions. He still believed that, mutilated as it was, it would suffice to place things in a position of less entanglement than then prevailed : but the extent of positive good to be expected from it was now doubtful, and his own share in accomplishing that good must be small. And this small amount of self-approval he was invited to purchase by the loss of all the ties of political, and perhaps of social friendship, which had surrounded him through life. Instead, therefore, of blaming him for repeating his desire to withdraw from the ad- ministration, which he should still support as a private member of Parliament, he seems to deserve our praise for the self-denial which he exercised, and the readiness with which at last he con- sented to stand by the Duke, and share with him the perils of the coming struggle. Be this, however, as it may, the negotiation went on. The King yielded, or appeared to yield, a reluctant assent to the wishes of his ministers : and so, when Parliament met, which it did on the 4th of February, the speech from the throne was found to contain the following among other announcements : — "His Majesty laments that in that part of the United Kingdom (Ireland), an association still exists which is dangerous to the public peace, and inconsistent with the spirit of the constitution ; which keeps alive discord and ill-will among his Majesty's subjects, and which must, if permitted to continue, effectually obstruct every effort permanently to improve the condition of Ireland. His Maj esty confidently relies on the wisdom and on the support of his Parlia- ment; and he feels assured that you will commit to him such powers as may enable his Majesty to maintain his just authority. His Majesty recommends that when this essential object shall have 460 MEMOm OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1829. been accomplished, you should take into your deliberate consider- ation the whole condition of Ireland, and that you should review the laws which impose disabilities on his Majesty's Roman Catholic subjects. You will consider whether the removal of these dis- abilities can be effected consistently with the full and permanent security of our establishments in Church and State, with the main- tenance of the reformed religion established by law, and of the rights and privileges of the bishops and of the clergy of this nation, and of the churches committed to their charge." It is impossible to describe the effect produced, both upon Par- liament and upon the country at large, by the latter of these clauses in the King's speech. Though there had certainly got abroad a sort of indistinct suspicion that a change of policy towards Ireland was contemplated, so frank an avowal of the purpose of the Grovernment to abandon the ground on which it previously stood, took all parties by surprise. The Tories, believing that their leaders had betrayed them, gave vent to their indignation in the most unmeasured terms. The 'Whigs, rejoicing in the near prospect of office which thus suddenly opened upon them, cheered the Grovernment forward, half in triumph, half in mockery. The King was miserable ; but the ministers held their course. On the l7th of February Mr. Peel brought in his bill for the suppression of the Catholic Association, which met with no opposition in either House. On the 20th he resigned his seat for the University of Oxford ; and being defeated by Sir Eobert Inglis, after an attempt on the part of his friends to reinstate him, he was returned, not without a struggle, for Westbury. On the 3rd of March he gave notice, that he would draw the attention of the House on the 8th to that clause in his Majesty's speech which related to the Eomau Catholic disabilities. Louder and louder the cry of dissatisfaction arose ; and whether moved by that, or acting on the suggestions of his own mind, the King sent the same evening to desire that the Duke, the Lord Chancellor, and Mr. Peel, should wait upon him next day. It was a very remarkable interview, but it was the only one which took place between his Majesty and his ministers till after the Emancipation Act became law. And it is the more necessary to note this : because stories were circulated at the time, on what appeared to be good authority, of repeated conferences, and extreme harshness and arrogance by the Prime Minister. For these there was not a shadow of foundation in truth. The Duke saw the King more than once, while yet the expediency of adopting a particular line of policy was under consideration. His Majesty and he discussed it together, in all its bearings, and his Majesty never concealed the reluctance with which he consented to follow 1829. THE KING SEES HIS MINISTERS. 461 the advice of his ministers. But after the measure was arranged, the Duke never saw the King, except on the morning of the 4th of IMarch, till the bill had passed through both Houses. All the stories told, therefore, of tears on the one side, and threats and rudeness on the other, were the mere inventions of malice or dis- appointed ambition. Mr. Peel, in the posthumous vindication of his own good name, has given a very correct account, as far as it goes, of all that passed on the occasion to which we now allude. The King received his three ministers, when they presented themselves at the palace, kindly but gravely. He looked anxious and embarrassed while he requested them to make him acquainted with the details of their bill. It was explained to him that the bill would relieve Eoman Catholics from the necessity of making a declaration against the doctrine of transubstantiation ; while it so far modified, in their case, the oath of supremacy, as to omit all notice of the King's authority in things spiritual. " What ! " exclaimed the King, " do you mean to alter the ancient law of supremacy ? " It was to no purpose that his Majesty was shown that the proposed alteration could apply only to one class of his subjects; that Protestants of every denomination would still continue to swear as their fathers had done before them ; and that only Roman Catholics would be excused from asserting on oath what in their consciences they were unable to believe. The King could not see the matter in the same light with his ministers. He appealed to his own coronation oath, which now for the first time he perceived to be directly at variance with the course which they wished him to follow; and assured them that he would rather abandon the throne than incur the guilt of perjury. WTiat could the Duke or his colleagues say? The King was condescending in the extreme. He seemed deeply grieved at the dilemma to which they had been brought. He acknowledged that possibly he had gone too far on former occasions ; though he had acted entirely through misapprehen- sion. But now he trusted they would see, with him, that it had become a point of conscience, and that there was no alternative left him except to withdraw his assent. In the most respectful manner they acquiesced in his Majesty's determination, allowing without a murmur that he had a perfect right to act as he pro- posed. But when he went on to ask further what they intended to do, the Duke's answer was explicit ; they must retire from his ]\Iajesty's service, and explain to Parliament that unexpected ob- stacles had arisen to the accomplishment of the policy which they were engaged to pursue. To this Mr. Peel added, that as the bill for the suppression of the Catholic Association had been carried on 462 MEMOIR OP THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON". 1829. the understanding that other and more comprehensive measures would follow, it would be necessary to make Parliament generally aware of the causes which operated to prevent the bringing forward of those measures. The King heard all this to an end without attempting to inter- rupt or to argue with his ministers. He admitted, on the con- trary, that it was impossible for them to take any other course, and then bade them farewell, kissing each of them separately on both cheeks. They set off from Windsor immediately, and arriving at Lord Bathurst's, where their colleagues were waiting dinner for them, they made a full report of all that had occurred, and an- nounced that the Grovernment was at an end. The party broke up, believing themselves to be out of office ; but early next morning, before any decisive steps had been taken, a special messenger arrived at Apsley House, with a letter from the King. It was guardedly expressed, for it went no further than to state, that his Majesty had found greater difficulties than he expected in forming a new Cabinet, and was therefore desirous that the present administration should go on. The moment was critical, and the position of the Government delicate, and in some sense insecure. No doubt his Majesty's letter might be read as implying an abandonment of the objections which he had taken to the policy of his ministers over-night ; but it was certainly capable of a different interpretation. It appeared therefore to the Duke, that before proceeding further it would be necessary to come to a clear understanding with the King as to his Majesty's real inten- tions; and Mr. Peel concurring in this opinion, the Duke was requested to write to the King upon the subject. He did so with all the candour and loyalty which were natural to him ; and the result was an unequivocal declaration from the sovereign, that he would accept the measures of his ministers as his own. Accord- ingly, on the 8th of March, Mr. Peel brought into Parliament the bill of which he had given notice on the 3rd, delivering at the same time a speech to which the House listened with profound attention. But at its close a storm burst forth, which for violence of invective on the one side, and triumphant self-gratulation on the other, has seldom been equalled. Nor was the feeling which produced this outbreak confined within the walls of Parliament. The Duke and his colleagues fell at once from the pinnacle of popularity on which they had hereto- fore stood. Every Protestant newspaper in the three kingdoms covered them with abuse ; every Protestant speaker in townhall or tavern vilified them ; and the very pulpits were in many instances converted into tril)unes, from which to denounce them and their 1829. DUEL WITH LORD WINCHELSEA 463 treason. But worse remains to be told. The Earl of Winchelsea, one of the leaders of the Anti-Catholic party, a man of strong passions and ardent temperament, published in the " Standard " newspaper a violent attack on the personal character of the Duke. The Duke, after obtaining from Lord Winchelsea an avowal of the authorship of this attack, wrote a letter of mild yet firm re- monstrance, inviting the Earl to retract his charges and apologise for them. Lord Winchelsea declined to do either, 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. Considering the length of time which he had spent in the array, and the habits of military society towards the close of last century, that fact bore incon- testable 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 bor- rowed 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 com- batants met in Battersea Fields, now converted into Battersea Park— the Duke attended by Sir Henry Hardinge, Lord Winchelsea by the Earl of Falmouth, — and Lord Winchelsea, having received the Duke's fire, discharged his pistol in the air. A written ex- planation was then produced by Lord Winchelsea's second, which the Duke declined to receive unless the term " apology " were in- troduced 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 occa- sionally honoured, The Duke's opinion respecting the propriety, indeed the necessity, of the course which he followed on the occa- sion, had undergone no change. " You speak as a moralist," he observed, smiling, " and I assure you that I am no advocate of duelling under ordinary circumstances ; but my difference with Lord Winchelsea, 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 464 MEMOIR OP THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1829. 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 King's servants. I did my best to make him understand the nature of his mistake, and showed him how he might escape from it. He rejected my advice, and there remained 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 pistol 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 re- quested 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." 1829. THE TOKIES PALL OFF. 465 CHAP. XXXIV. CONSEatTENGES OF THE ROMAN CATHOLIC BELIEF BILL. — BREAK UP OF PARTIES. BIRMINGHAM POLITICAL UNION. — DEATH OF GEORGE IV. — DISSOLUTION. — ■ REVOLUTION IN FRANCE. — NEW PARLIAMENT. — THE DUKE RESIGNS. It belongs to the historian of the period, rather than to the biographer of the Duke of Wellington, to trace the progress of the Bill for Roman Catholic Emancipation through both Houses of Parliament. Proposed by the Duke in the Lords, and by Mr. Peel in the Commons, it made its way, in spite of a very bitter opposition, and in due time became the law of the land. But the immediate result of this success to the Duke, and to his administration, was ruinous. Almost to a man the Tories fell from them, and with the Whigs they had nothing really in common. The latter, well pleased to see a question settled, which they had advocated, but which they were never strong enough to carry, expressed themselves grateful for what the Cabinet had done. But gratitude never hurried them beyond general expressions of approval. They were willing enough to prevent the Government from being overthrown prematurely by the angry Tories ; but thej'- made no profession of political allegiance to it. Elsewhere, also, a soreness rankled, which showed itself in numberless trifling, yet unmistakable, acts of dis- courtesy. Prejudices long cherished, and up to the last moment avowed, had been overborne. Personal feeling, if not outraged, was wounded ; and, as usually happens in such cases, the respect which is akin to fear, gendered restlessness, and a strong desire to throw off a yoke which had become intolerable. It would have been difficult for a government so circumstanced to hold its ground, had all other circumstances been favourable ; and events were already in progress which rendered the long continuance of the Duke of Wellington and his colleagues in office impossible. The remainder of the session of 1829 passed over, if not triumphantly to the ministers, at all events without any serious check. They attempted nothing great or startling, and carried their measures, such as they were, by fair majorities. Their budget provoked little criticism, and no opposition. A motion to inquire into the distress which prevailed among the operative classes, and especially among the silk -weavers, they defeated ; while they threw II ir 466 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1829. open the British market to the admission of raw silk at a reduced rate of duty. Still the temper of both Houses continued to be sullen ; and on the 24th of June, when Parliament rose, many members retired to their respective counties and boroughs, out of humour with themselves and with the Grovernment which they had heretofore supported, and meditating- revenge. It was the Duke's habit, which he did not intermit, while First Lord of the Treasury, to spend the recess partly at Strath- fieldsaye, partly at Walmer Castle. He visited besides, at intervals, his friends in other parts of the country, and when public business pressed, he remained sometimes for a week together in London. We refer to these not very important matters, because they connect themselves with an endeavour which was made in the course of this summer to renew the Duke's political connexion with Mr. Hus- kisson. The friends of the existing administration could not shut their eyes to the fact, that they were scarcely strong enough in the House of Commons to command a majority on any question of doubtful tendency. The Whigs professed, indeed, their readiness to coalesce ; but it must be upon their own terms. They would serve with the Duke, but scarcely under him ; they were willing to render him their undivided support, on condition that he admitted them to a fair share of place in and out of the Cabinet. The Tories, on the other hand, had become perfectly rabid in their indignation. They charged him with a violation of public faith, with want of states- manship, with indifference to the wishes and necessities of the peo- ple, with a determination to govern the country as if he commanded an army. They even joined in the Whig cry for Parliamentary Eeform, and spoke openly of removing the bishops from the House of Lords. Upon the Duke himself these clamours made little im- pression. He was determined to govern for the public good, or not to govern at all ; and he hoped that by bringing forward only just measures, he might be able to defeat personal hostility, by balancing one political faction against another. But his friends thought otherwise, and having arrived at the conclusion that it would be well, under the circumstances, to gain over the Can- ningfites, one of them invited the Duke to meet Mr. Huskisson at his country house. The statesmen met ; but no political recon- ciliation followed. The Duke was personally civil, and even kind to Mr. Huskisson, with whom, indeed, he denied that he had ever had any quarrel ; but recollections of the past were too strong with him to permit his going further. How far Mr. Huskisson was privy to the object for which the Duke and he had been brought together, we are not prepared to say. But his deportment in the next session, which became keenly and even bitterly adverse. 1829. INDEPENDENCE OF GREECE. 467 seemed to indicate that he had been led to entertain hopes which were never realised. Besides this abortive endeavour to heal an old wound, there occurred little in the interval between the prorogation and the re- assembling of Parliament with which the Duke's biographer is especially concerned. Foreign affiiirs went on under Lord Aber- deen's management as they had previously done. Portugal ap- peared to be satisfied with Don Miguel, for though he wielded his power sternly against individuals, nothing like a national rising occurred. Had the Duke been free to follow the dictates of his own judgment, he would have at once resumed the diplomatic relations which had been broken off between the two States. But England was committed to the young Queen by the policy of the preceding administration, and the Duke, though he believed that policy to be unwise, could not break through it in a moment. Neither was he satisfied with the turn which affairs had taken in the East. The treaty of Adrianople (which brought the war between Eussia and Turkey to a close) gave great umbrage both to him and to his foreign minister. It contained stipulations so much at variance with the pledges which three years previously the Emperor had given, that the question was seriously debated in the Cabinet whether England ought not to protest against them. On an assurance from Eussia, however, that the obnoxious clauses were inserted only in terroreni; that she entertained no design of acting upon them, either then or at any future time, the Duke was induced, rather than become the cause of prolonged hostilities in Europe, to give way. Yet his private correspondence shows, that he not only did so with reluctance, but that he was fully alive to the spirit of unfair dealing which guided the councils of Eussia throughout the whole of the negotiation. It was some compensation for the wrong, that to Greece, of which the independence was now acknowledged, a government not Eussian was assigned. The Prince of Saxe- Coburg, as is well known, first received and accepted the offer of the crown ; which, however, on more mature deliberation, he judged it expedient to decline. But Count Capo d'Istria, who was strongly suspected of having helped to bring about this disappoint- ment, gained nothing by it. He ceased to be president without ascending the throne, and Prince Otho of Bavaria became King of Greece. Such was the state of affairs, both at home and abroad, when, on the 4th of February, 1830, the Duke again met Parliament. It was obvious from the first, that neither was Tory rancour appeased, nor ^Miig support effectually conciliated. The motion of address on the King's speech, opposed by the former, and coldly supported by the H H 2 468 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON". 1830. latter, was carried by a small and very heterogeneous majority. Then followed a cry for retrenchment and economy, to which the Duke's government had already, in great matters, been disposed to listen, but which, on a question of very secondary importance, it took the ill-advised determination to resist. Two young men, public servants for a few months only, had been pensioned ofiE, on the reduction of their offices, the one with 400/., the other with 5001. a year. The arrangement was attacked as a gross job, and defended upon principle ; and the ministers, after mustering all their strength, were beaten. This was mortifying, rather than disheartening ; like the feather thrown up, it indicated how the wind might be expected to blow, but it scarcely vouched for the coming of a storm. Yet the political atmosphere was surcharged with electricity. Ireland, in the face of the healing measure, had become more unmanaofeable than ever. Mr. O'Connell was in the field ao-ain with new demands, all pointing towards a dissolution of the Union ; while priests and people, retaining their old organisation, collected funds for his use, and moved or stood still at his bidding. In England and Scotland, also, trade was dull, producing, as dulness in trade alway does, discontent as well as suffering ; and there were not wanting persons, far above the rank of common demagogues, to foster the angry feeling, with a view to embarrass the Grovern- ment. Hence a cry for parliamentary reform, which had ceased in a great measure to command attention, was taken up and re- peated from all parts of the country. In the manufacturing dis- tricts, especially, the opinion gained ground, that nothing would ever be done to benefit the working classes till the large towns were represented in Parliament ; and the term " boroughmonger," first invented by Cobbet, began to be applied as one of reproach to the owners of close boroughs, particularly if they happened to be Tories. It was amid this confusion of parties that the Birmingham Poli- tical Union, the parent of all similar associations which afterwards appeared in England, came into existence. Of the constitution of that body, and its objects, we need not here speak. The former, if within the letter of the law, touched its extreme verge, — the latter were, to say the least, altogether unconstitutional. The Grovernment was well aware of the intimate relations which had been established between the society and many influential members of the legislature ; but forasmuch as the society conducted its proceedings with perfect regularity, and its leaders neither wrote up rebellion, nor spoke sedition, the Duke and those who acted with him considered that it would be unwise to confer upon it meretricious importance, by taking any steps to put it down. 1830. MOTIONS FOE PARLIAMENTARY REFORM. 46» No great while elapsed, however, before the mutterings of the storm began to make themselves heard nearer home. Lord Ho wick, who, like his father. Earl Grrey, had throughout his poli- tical career been a consistent reformer, brought forward a motion, early in March, " for some general comprehensive measure, as the only means of checking the scandalous abuses which prevail." It was lost by a narrow majority of only 27: the numbers being 99 for, and 126 against the resolution. By and by, on the 18th, the Marquis of Blandford, a Tory, and up to the preceding year a steady supporter of things as they were, proposed a measure so sweeping, that the motive which impelled him to act could not be mistaken. He was defeated by 160 to 57. But the most formid- able attack of all was led by Lord John Kussell on the 29th, when he moved for leave to bring in a bill " to enable the towns of Manchester, Leeds, and Birmingham to return members to Par- liament." Lord John was followed, on that occasion, not only by all the Whigs and Eadicals, but by the Canningites, with Mr. Huskisson at their head ; and his motion was rejected by a majority of only 48 — 140 members voting with, and 188 against him. However satisfied the Duke's government might be with the rectitude of their own intentions, however convinced of the wisdom of the policy which they were pursuing, they could not regard such movements as these except with alarm. It was evident that the public mind was ill at ease, and that the constitution, as it existed, had lost the confidence of a large and influential section of the legislature and of the people. Nor let it for a moment be sup- posed that, whatever might be the opinions of others, the Duke of Wellington was blind to the abuses which had crept in upon our parliamentary system. To close boroughs, considered as an es- sential feature in the constitution, he was not averse. He regarded them, on the contrary, both then and to the end of his life, as a great, perhaps the greatest, bulwark of imperial government, in the abstract; but he had no patience for the grasping ambition and greed of individuals, which prompted them to buy up borough, after borough, and to render themselves thereby all-powerful in the legislature. " They are blind," he used to say, " to their own interests, which cannot be separated from those of the state. They do not see that they are perverting to the worst purposes an in- stitution 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 cha- racter, find their way through tliem into the House of Commons, they go into the market, and purchase up one after another, with II H 3 470 MEMOIR OF THE DUIiE OF WELLINGTON 1830. 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 fingers with so vile a job." Still, rising above an abuse which time, he hoped, and expe- rience might mitigate, the Duke saw the advantage which the Crown derived from the existence of nomination boroughs. For it was no part of his political creed, that the masses are the best judges of how they and the empire ought to be governed. He believed that to be the best form of government which ensures full protection to life and property ; which giving the freest exercise to talent, and the largest possible share of personal liberty to indivi- duals, throws open the great prizes in public and in private life to universal competition. But all this he held to be incompatible with the transference of power to any one class, and least of all to that class, which, being deficient both in education and in pro- perty, must have everything to gain and nothing to lose in a scramble. As has elsewhere been shown, the Duke was not op- posed to the gradual enfranchisement of large towns. Had the views which he advocated in the Cabinet, with respect to East Eetford, been followed, that fact would have been proved. But they were defeated, and now the tide seemed setting in with such fury that any attempt to control or direct it must inevitably fail. He made up his mind, therefore, thus early to resist all change, and for a brief space he succeeded. Among other causes of the Duke's unpopularity at this juncture, was the prosecution for libel which he instituted, through the Attorney-General, against Mr. Alexander, the editor of the "Morn- ing Journal." There had appeared in that paper a series of arti- cles, so far transcending the limits of fair controversy, that the Duke, as responsible minister of the Crown, felt himself obliged to take proceedings, and a verdict was obtained against JVIr. Alex- ander, which led to a sentence of fine and imprisonment. In the then temper of the limes, such a sentence had no other effect than to secure to the object of it a crown of martyrdom. Mr. Alex- ander was visited daily at his apartments in the King's Bench by leading politicians, while a motion was made in the House of Com- mons, tending rather to fix odium on the Government which pro- secuted, than on the individual who had been the object of the prosecution. Moreover, the Government sustained a check, for it can hardly be called a defeat, in a bill for modifying the legal punishment of forgery. Mr. Peel, anxious to render the penal code less bloody, proposed to inflict the penalty of death only on 18"0. DEATH OF GEORGE IV. 471 13ersoiis committing such forgeries as could not by proper precau- tion be guarded against. Sir James Mackintosh, on the third reading of the bill, moved a clause for omitting the penalty of death altogether, and carried it by a majority of 151 against 138. And thus the session wore on in that sort of parliamentary war- fare which leaves neither side satisfied with the issues of the contest, till in the month of April it first became publicly known, that the health of George the P'ourth was failing. On the 24th of May, the malady had gained such a height that the King was no longer able to affix his signature to papers of state ; and a bill was passed, authorising the sign manual to be adhibited by a stamp. But the King never rallied. P^'om week to week, and day to day, the disease gained upon him, and at last, on the 26th of June, he expired. He was a man with many faults, and few virtues. His intellect was superior to his moral nature ; but it was not trans- cendent. He appears never to have given his undivided confi- dence to any minister, but always to have aimed at keeping up what he called a King's party. He professed for the Duke of Wellington unbounded love and admiration. That he admired the Duke, as meaner natures admire natures that are above them, cannot be doubted ; but his love was never such as to prevent him from intriguing and plotting against the object of it. It is beyond dispute that the Duke exercised great influence over him, but it was the influence of a superior mind over an inferior. Still his death at so critical a moment was to the Duke, and to statesmen who thought with him, a grievous calamity. It necessitated the dissolution of a parliament, which, though somewhat difficult ta manage, was not likely to be succeeded by another more manage- able. And it was followed, almost immediately^, by sure tokens of growing hostility in all quarters. It was the wish of the Grovernment not to undertake any fresh business of importance at an advanced season of the year and with an expiring parliament. They therefore prepared for the new sovereign a speech, which addressed itself to the sympathies of both Houses, in reference to the domestic calamity which his Majesty had recently experienced ; and invited the Commons to make such arrangements as would enable his ministers to carry on the affairs of Grovernment till a new parliament could be called. At once, and to a man, the whole body of the Whigs passed over into the ranks of the opposition. Up to that moment they had encouraged the belief that, sooner or later, the Duke would propose a coalition, and hence, though neither unanimous nor hearty in the support which they gave, they had more than once stood between him and a parliamentary defeat. Now they saw that, come what might, he was u u 4 472 MEMOIE OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1830. resolved to form no intimate connexion with th^m ; and, accept- ing his present attitude as a declaration of war, they entered into the contest heartily. It was moved by Earl Grey in the Lords, and by Lord Althorpe in the Commons, that the Parliament ought not to separate without providing for the possible contingency of a lapse of the crown to a minor. The motion failed in both Houses; but so weak had the Government become, that in the Commons they carried their point by what was then accounted a very inconsi- derable majority. In a full house, they defeated Lord Althorpe by 47 votes only. In consequence of this vote, the dissolution took place on the 23rd of July, and the new parliament was ordered to assemble on the 14th of September. Had there been nothing against the ministers except their own personal unpopularity, their chances in a general election so brought about would have been doubtful. But events occurred on the con- tinent, which not only increased their difficulties fourfold, but proved largely instrumental in bringing about the residts of which we shall presently have occasion to speak. The evils of the re- presentative system, as it had been established in France, became intolerable. Instead of seeking a remedy in the modification of that system, Charles the Tenth tried the experiment of a coup cTetat. It resulted in a three days' battle in the streets of Paris, and on the 30th of July the elder branch of the house of Bourbon went again into exile. We need not pause to describe the effect produced throughout Europe by that astounding revolution. The inhabitants of Brussels began with resistance to local taxes, and ended by driving the Dutch garrison out of the city, and proclaim- ing the dissolution of the union between Belgium and Holland. Poland, occupied by native troops, which, whether wisely or not, the Czar had kept in a state of complete severance from the rest of his army, hoisted the national standard, and declared herself in- dependent. In Germany, Italy, and, indeed, all over the conti- nent, popular movements began, which caused much uneasiness to the governments, and were not repressed without an effort. It would have been marvellous, circumstanced as England then was, had the shock of the moral earthquake failed to reach her. Every- where the minds of men were prepared to receive impressions un- favourable to authority in general, and to the existing administra- tion in pai-ticular. The Duke was spoken of as a mere soldier ; his system as that of the camp, not of the republic. He had broken through the constitution on one vital point, and was preparing to break through it upon others. There was but one remedy for the evil. The constituencies must elect men pledged to support a large measm-e of parliamentary reform and to expel the dictator 1830. REVOLUTION IN FRANCE ACCEPTED. 473 from office. It would be difficult to exaggerate the extent to which this spirit of unfairness was carried. The Birmingham Political Union, no doubt, followed its natural vocation when it assured the people that they were tyrannised over, and that the Duke was their tyrant. And in the mouths of the Whigs, the same assertion might be regarded as a legitimate argument in party warfare. But the language of both was mild in comparison with that to which the old Tories gave utterance ; and the combination of the three parties prevailed. It soon became apparent, as return after return came in, that the Grovernment had not gained ground ; and that if supported at all in the ensuing session, it would be by a majority too inconsiderable to be relied upon in the hour of danger. The conduct of the Duke under the circumstances was in perfect keeping with the whole tenor of his public life. He had taken his line in the administration of the internal affairs of the country ; and he gave no sign of an intention or a desire to deviate from it. His foreign policy was equally frank and straightforward. The French Kevolution he accepted as an accomplished fact. There was neither doubt nor hesitation on his part, or on the part of his colleagues, with regard to that matter. Indeed, the change of dynasty had not been officially communicated to them many hours, when a meeting of the Cabinet took place, and a special messenger was on his way to Paris with instructions to the English minister there to acknowledge and enter into friendly relations with the existing government. This was a bold step, considering the nature of the treaties which connected England at that time with the other powers of Europe ; but it was both just and wise. Any show of reluctance, however guarded — any disposition to wait till the views of other governments could be ascertained — would have inevitably produced the most disastrous consequences. Indeed, it is not going too far to say, that the Duke's promptitude in ac- knowledging the right of the French people to choose their own sovereign, alone preserved Europe at that time from the horrors of war. Let us not, however, forget to add, that he made imme- diate communications to the Cabinets of Vienna, Berlin, and St. Petersburg ; and that if he failed to persuade them into the adop- tion of a similar line of policy with his own, he at all events re- conciled them to the course which England had taken, and held them back from assuming an attitude of hostility or threatening towards France. It was one thing to deal in this spirit of frankness with a great power like France, which was, or seemed to be, unanimous in the course on which it had entered ; it was quite another to sanction the insurrection in Belgium, and the attempt to erect two petty 474 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1830. states out of one. With the latter arrangement the Duke was by no means satisfied. Having been largely instrumental in esta- blishing the kingdom of the Netherlands, he was very little dis- posed to look, except with disapprobation, at the overthrow of the work of his own hands. Besides, the union between Holland and Belgium seemed to him to be as much a portion of the great European settlement of 1815, as the occupation of Lombardy and Venetia by Austria; and he therefore contended that, till the authority which had brought the two states together should pro- nounce for their severance, it was not competent to England or to any other individual power to recognise their separate inde- pendence. Hence, he not only held aloof from the overtures which the agents of Belgium made to him, but he advised the French Grovernment to discountenance them in like manner ; and was by no means satisfied with the excuses which the latter made for sup- porting, willingly or otherwise, the insurgent party. If the Foreign Office was kept busy in maintaining the external peace of the world, there was enough in the internal condition of the united kingdoms themselves to keep the Home Office not only busy but anxious. Ireland, as we have already seen, had reverted to a state of perfect misrule, a demand for the dissolution of the Union having succeeded to the clamour for Catholic emancipation. How it was urged and how resisted, it is not our province to tell. But the effect of the movement on public opinion was adverse in the extreme to the Duke and his administration. Meanwhile, in Eng- land a spirit began to manifest itself more threatening than had been witnessed there since 1817 and 1818. Not in the manu- facturing counties alone, but in districts purely agricultural, a war of class against class seemed impending. The labourers complained that the farmers would not employ them, or if they did, that the wages which they received were inadequate ; the farmers declared themselves unable to find their men in work, or to pay them as they ought to do. Speakers at public meetings and writers in newspapers threw the entire blame of all this upon the Govern- ment ; and noblemen and gentlemen eager for office, or bent iipon political revenge, stood forward to endorse the assertion. It tran- spired that the revolution in France had been preceded by a suc- cession of incendiary fires in Normandy; and either through the power of sympathy, or because the agents of mischief availed themselves of the circumstance, fires soon began to break out in the English counties nearest to France. Kent set, in this respect, the bad example, which soon extended to Sussex, Surrey, Hamp- shire, and other places, till, night after night, in the most fertile districts of the south, the sky was reddened with the blaze of 1830. DEATH OF MR. HUSKISSOX. 475 burning stack-yards. Then followed a more daring attack upon property; labouring people going about in open day, and com- pelling farmers and others to bring out their threshing machines, that they might be broken. The Grovernment did its best to put down these riots, and restore order ; but though it partially suc- ceeded by distributing troops through the most unquiet of the counties, it more and more enlisted against itself the prejudices both of those who suffered from the outrages and of the classes who committed them. It was in the autumn of this very year that the railway between Manchester and Liverpool, the first ever constructed for the con- veyance of passengers, was opened. In every circle, and nowhere more frequently than at the Duke's table, had the chances of suc- cess or failure in that and similar undertakings been discussed ; and now, when the Duke set out for Walmer Castle, to play a part in the great pageant, more than one of the guests whom he left behind spoke, not without apprehension, of the risks to which he was exposing himself. They proved to be little hazardous to him, because he attended rigidly to the instructions which he received. To another great statesman, less observant of the rules of disci- pline, they were fatal. Mr. Huskisson unfortunately quitted his carriage when the train stopped to take 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 assistance of the wounded man, — seems to have been ovei'whelmed 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 inci- dents, he had ever witnessed ; indeed, there is some reason to believe that the memories associated with this, his first essay, were not without their effect in strengthening, if they did not create, that disinclination to railway travelling which adhered to him ever after. Be this as it may, the fact remains, that in spite of the success which attended the Liverpool and Manchester line, the Duke never could be persuaded, directly or indirectly, to coun- tenance 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 impossibility 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 dis- tricts, and agitation and discontent in the great towns ; and on the 476 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1830. 26tli of October Parliament met. It soon became evident to the most devoted of their supporters that the ministers had gained nothing from the dissolution. A majority 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 voices of the Scotch members, both the election of the speaker, and the address in answer to the King's speech. But there their triumphs ended. Lord Grrey, in an able but violent speech, having im- pugned all their measures, as well foreign as domestic, demanded a large measure of parliamentary reform, and was 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 statement of his general views in an argu- ment 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 measure 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 Government 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 spent in the British House of Commons, instead of in the command of armies, and the manage- ment 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 con- sider ; 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. Now it seldom happens that in free assemblies a tone of defiance is a wise tone ; and it becomes especially unwise if the body ad- dressed be dissatisfied, reasonably or unreasonably, with the speaker. No 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. Indeed, his conduct in the East Eetford case, as well as his often-repeated opinion in regard to the impolicy as well as in- justice of gathering close boroughs into knots, afford ample proof that he was ready to consider any moderate and reasonable sug- gestion which might be brought before him. But to sweeping measures he was averse, both constitutionally and on principle ; and he entertained decided opinions as to the value of the close- borough system in hedging round the prerogatives of the crown, and affording the best means of imperial government. Hence the 1830. THE LORD MAYOR'S DINNER. 477 abruptness with which he spoke out under circumstances which would have induced a more wary politician to exercise great re- serve. It was a most unfortunate mistake as concerned both him- self and the country. Unpopular before, he became tenfold more unpopular after his speech, commented upon by newspapers and stump-orators, had gone the rounds both of London and the provinces. Among other excellent arrangements effected under the Duke's administration, was the establishment of the metropolitan police, a force unrivalled in Europe for its efficiency and forbearance ; which, without encroaching on the liberty of the subject, affords protec- tion to person and property, in and about London, within a circuit of several miles. Like every measure of which he was the author, this became at once a subject of attack. Men, who ought to have known better, denounced it as one of the Duke's preliminary moves for depriving England of her liberty ; and the people, who needed no incitement from without, were encouraged to rise and put down the gens-(Varnierie by force. There had been more than one collision between this body and the mob, when the Duke committed what we are constrained to describe as a second mistake, still more dis- astrous than the first. New London Bridge, in the construction of which he had taken the deepest interest, was now completed, and in order to give increased eclat to the ceremony of opening it, the King had agreed on the 9th of November to dine with the Lord Mayor. It is impossible to tell h.ow far they rested on any foundation of truth, but for some days prior to the civic fes- tival, rumours of an intended outrage, during the royal procession to or from the Mansion House, began to circulate. These assumed at last such a definite form, that the Cabinet met to consult about them ; and it was resolved that the royal visit to the city should not take place. A furious outburst of political indignation fol- lowed. The Duke had done it all. By his arbitrary proceedings he had so disgusted the people, that it was no longer safe for the King to pass through his own capital. The funds fell; trade became stagnant; more than one speculator became bankrupt. No mercy was shown to the Grovernment in either House of Parlia- ment by the enemy : their friends were either overawed, or from sheer lack of ability failed to support them as they ought to have done. The 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 opportunity of retiring from office. The opportunity thus sought for was not slow in presenting 478 MEMOIR OP THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1830. itself. A combination of Tories with Wttigs and Eadicals had already decided on the overthrow of the administration, 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 administration. 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 office. One master pas- sion ruled them wholly, — they yearned to be revenged 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 Exchequer brought forward his scheme for the civil list, fixing the amount to be settled on the Crown at 970,OOOL Several of the details in his project were objected to; and on the 15th, when he asked for his vote, Sir Henry Parnell proposed, and Sir Edward Knatchbull seconded a motion, that the accounts should be submitted to a select committee to be examined. Now this course, though un- usual, 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 which they were threatened. For Mr. Brougham's notice of motion for leave to bring in a parliamentary reform bill lay on the table ; and what- ever 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 ac- cordingly fought on the civil-list question, and it ended unfavourably for the Government ; ministers were defeated in a full house, by a majority of 29. The blow was struck, and none recoiled from it more imme- diately than the section of angry Tories, who were mainly instru- mental in delivering it. They had achieved their purpose, and stood aghast ; for no time was lost with the Duke in placing his resig- nation in the hands of the King; and on the 16th the Lords were informed by him, the Commons by Mr., now Sir Robert Peel, that ministers held office only till their successors should be appointed. 18S0. THE DUKE AT WAKMER, 479 CHAP. XXXV. THE REFORM BILL. — DISSOLUTION OP PARLIAMEKT. — THE DTTKE^S WlJJDOWS BROKEN. — THE BILL THROAVN OUT IN THE LORDS. — RIOTS IN LONDON. — THE duke's LIFE THREATENED AT DEAL. It is perhaps natural that a minister 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 continually present. He saw the political unions in England and Scotland acquiring from day to day more perfect organisation and a wider influence. In Ireland, Mr. O'Connell appeared to be raised above the control of law, and the Grovernment, though it obtained a verdict of sedition against him, shrank from inflicting the penalty which the law awarded. 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 probable line to be taken by England in dealing with foreign powers, more satisfactory. He had gone down to Walmer immediately on sur- rendering the seals of office, and he remained there during the brief recess which followed. A small circle of intimate friends were with him, and his conversation throughout was more grave and subdued than on any previous occasion we 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 Grrey to talk about standing out for re- form, retrenchment, and non-intervention. Eeform, 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 in- stitutions of the country ; and as to non-intervention, — with 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, Russia, and 480 MEMOIR OP THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1830. 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 witness again ? " *' But they are acting vigorously in the matter of the rural dis- turbances, at all events, and Mr. Stanley seems determined 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 with the political unions ? Do you think they will be able to lay the storm which they have raised in Birmingham, Leeds, and Glasgow ; 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, ISlr. Stanley's masters have other uses to make of the great 0, than to gag him." So matters continued till the beginning of February, when Parliament met again. Lord Grrey's followers in both Houses pro- fessed their readiness to take whatever he might offer. Mr. Att- wood and the unions desired a large reform, but left the King's ministers free to shape it as they pleased ; while the old Tories, still standing apart from the Duke, seemed scarcely in the humour to be dragged after the chariot-wheels of the men whom they boasted that they had brought into office. But when, on the 1st of March, 1831, Lord John Russell lifted the veil, and exhibited to the House of Commons and to the nation the great scheme as it had been settled, the universal feeling in doors and out was blank astonishment. The wildest of living Radicals had never ventured to dream of the introduction of so sweeping a measure. The most rabid of the Tories looked aghast, and thought with shame and sorrow of their own poor nibblings at bishops and rotten boroughs. As to the ^^^ligs, to those at least of the party who ex- pected neither promotion in the peerage, nor new coronets, there is ample evidence to show that surprise amounted with not a few among them to consternation. It was, however, but the calm which precedes the storm. \MDatever noblemen or gentlemen might think, and especially those who either owned boroughs themselves, or sat in the House of Commons, on the nomination of such as owned them, there was no difference of opinion, or seemed to be none, among the unrepresented masses. After a brief pause, as if to gather breath, these raised such a shout as had not been heard in England since it became a nation ; of which the effect was to drive out of the minds of common men all thought of offering successful resistance to what appeared to be the will of a unanimous people. Perhaps no portion of English history is now better known, or 1830. THE EEFORM BILL. 481 more deserves to be known, than that which describes the progress of the political revolution of 1831. Grovernment had managed the preliminary steps in that great movement with consummate adroitness. The details of their measure were kept profoundly secret from all except the members of the Cabinet, and the four statesmen to whom the task of throwing it into shape had been committed.* Thus all opportunity of consultation beforehand was taken away from parties not pledged to support them, while the advantages of a surprise, whatever these might be, rested with ministers. As we have just shown, these were enormous out of doors. The bill received at once the clamorous support of every man in every corner of the empire, of whose opinions on political subjects, as well as of his manner of expressing them, former sovereigns and parliaments had manifested the greatest jealousy. But its reception within the walls of the House of Commons itself was far from enthusiastic. Few who read, or heard it explained, seemed fully to understand it, and many, because they had been led to believe that neither the Duke nor Sir Eobert Peel cared to precipitate a struggle, voted for its going to a second reading. Here, however, the apparent apathy of the old leaders of the Tories ceased. Sir Eobert, indeed, more prone to despair than the Duke, appears to have abandoned at once all hope of successful opposition. He considered that the principle of parliamentary reform was carried as soon as the King, through his minister, proposed a distinct measure ; and hence, though prepared to speak and to vote against the second reading, he made no par- ticular exertions to carry others along with him. The Duke, on the contrary, was a strong advocate for refusing to read the bill a second time. He pointed out that there was the widest possible difference between accepting a general principle, and accepting the principle of a particular measure ; that by conceding the first read- ing, the House had adopted the former ; whereas, by refusing to concede the second reading, it would distinctly reject the latter. Peel's caution prevailed, however, over the Duke's boldness. The second reading came on. It was long and ably debated ; but on the opposition side of the House there was neither discipline nor unity of sentiment. The ministers accordingly succeeded in carry- ing their measure through that stage in its progress also, though only by a majority of one. Disappointed and annoyed as he was by this issue, the Duke lost neither heart nor temper. He still counselled determined opposi- tion, and in committee opposition began. But it came too late. * These wore Lord Durham, Earl Grcy'a son-in-law ; Lord Duncannon ; Lord John Russell, and Sir James Graham. I I 482 MEMOIR OP THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON". 1830. Ministers, who, if defeated either on the first or on the second reading, might have experienced some difficulty in obtaining the consent of the King to a dissolution, were emboldened to demand it on the ground that his Majesty's personal honour was at stake; and they found a plausible excuse for so doing in the unfortunate postponement of a vote on the ordnance estimates, which the highest legal authority in the land pronounced to be a refusal of the supplies. It is not necessary to dwell upon events which have passed into history. William IV., like his royal consort, was grossly maligned, at a time when stories, as mischievous as they were improbable, got into daily circulation. There was not only no eagerness on his part to go to the people, but he refused at first to break with a parliament, to which, in its liberal provision for the civil Kst, he felt himself so much indebted. But the adroitness and deter- mination of a section of his cabinet prevailed. Greneral Gascoigne having carried his instructions to the committee, " that the actual number of knights, citizens, and burgesses, returned to Parliament for that part of the United Kingdom called England and Wales," should not be diminished, a cry was raised that the bill had been struck at by a side wind; and the ministers refusing to go on with their measure, a dissolution was determined upon. Of the scenes which preceded and followed this stroke of policy, it is no special business of ours to speak. Mr. Eoebuck, in his " Secret History of the Whigs," has told us how it was received in the palace. The manner of its reception by the assembled peers and commoners of Grreat Britain is well known. Nor were his Majesty and his Parliament the only parties excited by it to acts scarcely consistent with the dignity of good government. The mob of London took the matter into its own hands. Peers and commoners were followed through the streets, and cheered, or groaned at, according to the parts which they were understood to have taken in the great debate. And as if this were not sufficient to mark the devotion of the people to the cause of reform, crowds assembled before the dwelling-houses of the more obnoxious among the borough-mongers, and smashed their windows with volleys of stones. Amongst others thus marked as objects of popular odium was the Duke of Wellington. It happened that the Duchess lay dead in Apsley House at the time. She expired, indeed, just as the firing of the guns in St. James's Park an- nounced the approach of the King to dissolve Parliament. But the crowd knew nothing of- this, and, if it had known, would have probably been very little afiected by it. The Duke was one of those who refused, at the bidding of the people, to profess his 1830. THE DUKE AND LORD WHARNCLIFFE. 483 approval of a step which, in reality, he lamented and condemned ; and with other recusants, he paid the penalty. He suffered this outrage once, but was determined that he should not do so a second time. Iron shutters were put up, so as to guard every window which was liable to be assailed, either from Piccadilly or Hyde Park ; and to the day of his death they re- mained, a monument, so to speak, of the intemperance of a mis- guided people, and of the apathy or complicity of the government, which took no steps to restrain it. A dissolution of Parliament was the measure, to the possible adoption of which all reasonable men in opposition to Earl Grrey's administration, looked forward with apprehension. Some, indeed, had affected to brave the minister by declaring, that if sent to their constituents they should go with the bill in their hands, and ask whether the freemen of England would consent to be robbed of their privileges. But the more thoughtful felt, that amid the excitement which everywhere prevailed, few political bodies would listen to the voice of reason, or consent to be guided by it. For the cry of reform was one which all could understand, or be per- suaded without difficulty to believe that they understood; whereas the reasons for refusing the particular reform offered by ministers were too subtle to be used successfully on any hustings. It is not, therefore, to be wondered at, that even thus early there should have been those who began to speak about the necessity of conced- ing something, in order to obtain similar concessions from the enemy. Lord Wharncliffe, a nobleman of considerable talent and large parliamentary experience, appears to have been one of the first to turn his thoughts in that direction. But his application to the Duke to co-operate with him, so far as to meet a number of peers and concert with them a line of action in the next Parlia- ment, met with no favourable reception. Lord Wharncliffe wrote on the 22nd of April, and on the 23rd received a reply, of which the tone seems to us to be as wise as it is constitutional : — " I must decline to meet the other peers. They have been dissolved by the King 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 inclina- tions, to discuss his last act in relation to themselves. This will not look or sound well, and I think it wiU do them more harm in the eyes of the pn.blic, than good can be done by the meeting, in exposing the conduct of the King's servants, its breach of the privileges of the House of Lords and of the law, and its mischievous consequences to the public interests. In my opinion the House of Lords is the only place in which as peers they ought to dis- cuss such subjects. They are there conservators of the constitution, and they can there act with a freedom which is the attribute of members of I I 2 484 MEMOm OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1831. Parliament. Out of doors they are no more than others of his Majesty's subjects, excepting that they enjoy the privilege of being exempt from arrest, and have titles of honour and rank, and precedence in society. But these very privileges, with the peculiar duties of the House of Lords, ought to make them out of doors, the examples of loyalty to the King, and of submission to the laAvs and to atithority. And they should take care to avoid even the appearance of acting upon a contrary principle. If this oiight to be their course in ordinary circumstances, it ought to be so par- ticularly in the critical times which are approaching." Meanwhile those consequences of the ministerial act to which men of all shades of opinion looked forward, were not slow in developing themselves. New writs were issued, and a general election began, amid violence and outrage to persons and property such as had not occurred in England since the days of the first Charles. In the larger towns, no one who presumed to express an opinion unfavourable to the government measure, either generally or in detail, could obtain a hearing. And in many of the counties, especially in the Scotch counties, matters were not better. For the newspapers combined to write up " the bill, the whole bill, and nothing but the bill," and to denounce as traitors to their country all who refused to join in that unmeaning cry. It would serve no good purpose were we to describe the process of intimidation which went forward in all quarters. Suffice it to state, that when the returns came in, they exhibited so powerful a majority of reformers, that of the ministers themselves, there were some who looked not without dismay at the monster which they had helped to call into existence. Into a House of Commons so constituted, a second edition of the Eeform Bill was introduced, which differed from the first in a few unimportant particulars only, while its principle remained essentially the same. Every enactment, indeed, which had been regarded by the Conservative party as most noxious was retained. What the points were to which they mainly objected will appear in the course of this narrative ; but, in the meanwhile, we content ourselves with stating that the bill forced its onward way, and that, after a stout resistance, which continued from the 24th of June to the 21st of September, it was read a third time and passed in the House of Commons. Next day. Earl Grrey moved its first reading in the House of Lords, which was conceded without oppo- sition. But on the 3rd of October, when the second reading was proposed, the struggle began. Never, perhaps, has eloquence more brilliant been displayed in an assembly of free men, than that which, from either side of the woolsack, electrified the House of Lords on that memorable occasion. The bill was advocated. 1831. THE DTJJvE SPEAKS AGAINST THE BILL. 485 after the Prime Minister, by Lords Lansdowne, Durham, Plunkett, Melbourne, and, above all, by Lord Brougham. It was denounced and exposed in all its details by Lords Harrowby, Wharncliffe, Haddington, Lyndhurst, Carnarvon, and Eldon. The Duke took a line of his own, and the effect produced by his speech, both in Parliament and throughout the country, was prodigious. After defending himself from the charge that he had been mainly instru- mental in causing the reform cry to be raised, and fixing, with great skill, upon ministers the resjDonsibility of such cry, he went on to show that in every particular act, down even to the language which they put into the mouth of the sovereign when he dissolved Parliament, they had shown a total disregard both to the spirit and to the letter of the constitution. On former occasions, as in 1784 and 1807, when parliaments were dissolved on the spur, so to speak, of the moment, and under the pressure of circumstances, the sovereign had appealed to the people in order to ascertain whether the ministers who served him were or were not acceptable to the constituencies. Now the people, not the representatives, were called upon to say whether or not a particular measure was calcu- lated to promote the best interests of the country. " The people," said the Duke, " were not (in 1784 and 1807) called upon to decide upon any measures ; but the appeal to them was rather, it may be said, in favour of the men whom his Majesty had named as his ministers. In the case of 1831, however, the noble Lords have advised their sovereign to refer, for discussion, to the people, not whether the King was to be supported in naming his ministers ; not whether Parliament is to be reformed, because upon the prin- ciple of reform there was a majority in the late House of Com- mons ; but upon a particular plan of reform, which has accordingly been discussed throughout the country." The Duke, in thus expressing himself, enunciated a great con- stitutional truth, which seems to have been quite forgotten at the time, and has not been on all occasions remembered since. The people neither are nor can ever be rendered a deliberative body. They have played the part which the constitution assigns to them, as soon as they have elected representatives to deliberate for them. To appeal to the people from the decisions of such repre- sentatives, especially in matters of detail, is to strike at the root of the whole system of parliamentary government. In the present instance proof was speedily afforded that you cannot govern for the people by the people. After a few days' debate, conducted with consummate ability, the Lords rejected the bill by a majority of 41, and the entire nation, from Land's End to John o' G-roats' House, fell into a state of anarchy. Mobs sacked Bristol, burned I I 3 486 MEMOIR OP THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1831. Nottingham Castle, and committed the grossest outrages in Edin- burgh and Glasgow. Noble lords were attacked in the streets of London, and hunted through their own parks and gardens in the country. Again the windows of every obnoxious peer and com- moner were broken, and attempts were made to fire and plunder more than one quarter of the metropolis. From the fury of this conflict the Duke did not wholly escape. Before his iron shutters could be closed, a volley of stones came pouring into the gallery at Apsley House, by which several picture frames were broken, and one painting which he valued, seriously damaged. How he escaped with life, passing daily as he did through crowds of persons inflamed to the highest pitch of fury against him, it is not easy to say. For the very nature of the English people seemed to be changed by the addresses of those who, through the press, or from public platforms, spoke openly of '' De Witting," one whose past services, whatever they might have been, were more than cancelled by his obstinate resistance to the King's wish, and to the just rights and demands of the people. Nor was it in London only that this bad spirit prevailed. From more than one quarter, the Duke received intimation that it would be unsafe to show himself in certain towns which were named. Even his return to Walmer Castle was not to be effected without danger. Deal, poor as it was, had caught the infection ; and a plot was arranged in one of the low public-houses there, to attack his carriage when it should approach the turnpike, which stands between Sandwich and that town. The Duke was made aware of the threatened danger, and, like a skilful general, he hastened his departure from London by several hours, thus throwing out the assassins, if such there really were, by reaching the post of danger long before he was expected. But a few gentlemen in that part of the country did not consider it safe to trust entirely to that mea- sure. They mounted their horses, each armed with pistols, and riding in groups, as if on their own business, kept some ahead, and others in rear of the Duke's carriage, till it swept up to the drawbridge at Walmer Castle. The Duke travelled on that occa- sion with a brace of double-barrelled pistols in the pocket of his britzka, and the servant who sat on the box was armed also. 1831. THE rOLTTICAL UNION. 487 CHAP. XXXVI. THE EECESS. — PKEPAEATIONS FOE. A EEXEWED STEUGGLE. — THE DITKE AT WALMEE. — THE "WAVEEEES. — SXJBSTAXCE OF HIS COEEESPOJTDENCE 'WIIH THEJI AXD OXHEES. Immediately on the rejection of the Reform Bill in the House of Lords, Parliament was prorogued. Intimation was however given, that the recess would be a short one ; and both parties felt that on the use to which this interval might be turned, the fate of the measure, and with it, perhaps, of the monarchy, depended. No exertions were, therefore, spared on either side to operate upon public opinion. The press teemed with pamphlets, some exposing the faults of the ministerial plan, others calling upon the people to reject every other. The violence of the newspapers became greater than before ; and other influences besides those of written arguments and invectives came into play. Already while the question was under discussion in the Lords, the Birmingham Political Union had met, and after setting forth " the awful consequences which must ensue from a rejection of the bill," urged the ministers to create as many peers as might be necessary to avert the calamity. The same body, after the bill was thrown out, passed a vote of thanks to Lord Althorpe and Lord John Eussell, and were told in reply, with an unfortunate forgetfulness of the interpretation which the phrase might bear, " Our prospects are now obscured for a moment, and I trust only for a moment. It is impossible that the whisper of a faction should prevail against the voice of a nation." This was followed by the setting forth of a scheme of more perfect organisa- tion throughout the country, while demands began to be made for arms, and the necessity of establishing a national guard was openly advocated. No reasonable man suspected at the time — nobody will now pretend to say, that this movement of the masses was encouraged by the King's ministers for any other purpose than one. They had staked their political existence on the passing of a particular mea- sure, and doubtless considered that in so doing they were promoting the best interests of the country. But probably no thoughtful man, be his abstract opinion what it may, will novv^ deny, that in n 4 488 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1831. seeking that object they went as close to the brink of revolution, in its worst form, as it was possible with safety to go. For to mob rule succeeded what was infinitely worse — mob obedience to the mandates of irresponsible leaders, and an apparent connivance, on the part of magistrates and other persons in authority, in the pro- ceedings of these leaders. To the Duke, the moving principles of whose nature were loyalty to the throne and reverence for the laws, all this was intolerable. He remonstrated with Earl Grey, and, using his privilege as a peer of parliament, did not hesitate to represent to the King himself the dangers with which the monarchy was threatened. Nor were his remonstrances and repre- sentations vain. Just as the audacity of the unions had reached its culminating point, a royal proclamation came out, declaring the existence of organised societies for political purposes to be illegal, and prohibiting a meeting which had been fixed against a certain day, in Birmingham, for the avowed purpose of providing the members of that body with arms. 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. If the old Tory party was dissolved, a new combination, quite as numerous and influential, had been brought together; consisting of men who, on other subjects, might enter- tain various, and even contradictory opinions, but who combined in denouncing the ministerial Eeform Bill as a blow struck at the very groundwork of the constitution. Of this heterogeneous body the Duke became, without any effort on his part, the head ; and as the individuals composing it were not statesmen merely, but, in very many instances, persons who had never till of late given up any portion of their thoughts to politics, they were not over scru- pulous in regard to the demands which they made both on the time and the patience of their leader. Every human being who had a scheme to propose, or a doubt to solve, wrote to the Duke ; and as with characteristic good-breeding he answered all their letters, — briefly, or at length, as the occasion seemed to require, — the strain upon his energies was not only severe but incessant. Not content with sitting down to his desk as early as six in the morning, we have seen him, when the castle was full of guests, go on with his letter-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 who now surrounded or turned to him for advice, wore in many instances those who had driven him out of 1831. THE DUKE AT EASTWELL PARK. 489 office. " You see how they come about me," he once observed ; " they were never satisfied till they 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 farthing for their personal influence, or for their boroughs either, except 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 parts 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 Winchelsea, 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. But 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 connexions, and placed himself again under the political guidance 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 Warden 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 the Duke for the graver and more trying disappointments which seemed, day by day, to gather round him. The apathy, or it might be the complicity, of the Grovernment in the proceedings of the poUtical unions, weighed upon his spirits, and irritated his temper. He could not now expect — he did not expect — to escape from the struggle on which he had induced the House of Lords to enter, without a measure, and a large one too, of parlia- mentary reform. But the only hope which seemed to him to remain, of rendering it comparatively little dangerous, depended upon the continued determination of the House of Lords not to accept the ministerial or any other measure, till, by putting down the unions, the Grovernment should have left Parliament free to deliberate calmly on the merits of the question whenever it came before them. That section of the conservative party, on the other hand, which, so early as the dissolution in April, had begun to con- sider how far it might be possible to go in the way of concession, was now very busy. Lords Wharncliffe and Harrowby had placed themselves at the head of it ; and, as the Duke was given to un- derstand, they were already in communication with Earl Grrey. A very interesting and curious correspondence followed, which would scarcely, if printed in detail, repay the labour of perusal now; but of which, in order to throw light upon the Duke's manner of 490 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON". 1831. regarding the great question of the day, it is necessary that we should give the substance. Aud in doing so we shall as much as possible adhere to the phraseology of the several writers. About the 17th or 18th of November, the Duke received from Lord Wharncliffe a letter announcing the fact that he had entered into a sort of negotiation with the Grovernment ; and that he enter- tained good hope of being able to arrange such a plan of compro- mise, as would prevent the necessity of a second rejection of the bill by the Lords, and so enable them to alter and amend it when it came into committee. The Duke answered this letter on the 19th; and after expressing himself " happy to learn that Grovernment was disposed to come to an understanding with his correspondent. Lord Harrowby, and others, as to the possibility of an arrange- ment by mutual concession on the Reform question," he went on to say that most of those who had spoken to him on the subject were loud in their complaints, and as he thought with reason, of the partiality of the Reform Bill, as well in disfranchising as in enfranchising boroughs. For his own part, all that he desired to see was a chance, under the new system, of a Grovernment for this hitherto prosperous, happy, and great country, which should give security to life and property hereafter. " His opinion was, that those who really held the reins of government had abeady taken a step beyond all reform. They had incited the forma- tion of political unions all over the country. These had assumed an organisation which any man who could read would proiiotmce to be for military purposes, and nothing else. Their creed was only so far better than that of the United Irishmen in 1798, that they did not attempt to keep it secret. But this comparative merit lost its value when it was remembered, that at that moment secresy was not necessary to security. It must be observed, likewise, that secresy would deprive these organised bodies of one of their most efficient instruments, viz. terror. " The Duke had heard that a contract had been entered into for arms by the Birmingham Union ; and he had considered it his duty to the King, to draw his Majesty's attention to the consequences of the assumption of arms by these self-formed bodies, to which they were incited daily by our governors of the press. It appeared, however, that he had been misin- formed respecting the contract ; and the press had certainly altered its tone of late respecting a national guard. But the organisation had since been adopted ; and every information which he received led him to the belief, that the radicals composing these associations thus organised did possess arms. " For what purpose was all this ? To carry reform by terror. That coidd not be the intention of Lord Grey, Lord Harrowby, and Lord Wliarncliffe. See what Mr. Hume had said in his letter published in the ' Times ' of the previous day. He tells the parish of St. George's-in-the- East, that he thinks there ought to be a union, in every parish, of all the 1801. COERESPONDENCE WITH LORD WHARNCLIFFE. 491 middle classes, witli the working men or operatives : firstly, for the pro- tection of persons and projjcrty ; secondly, to be ready to express the opinions of the parish on any j)ublic measure ; and in case the ministers or the House of Commons are lukewami in the canse of the people, to urge them to the performance of their duty. Up to that moment ignorant people had thought that the preservation of the public peace, and of life and property, Avas the iunction of the King, and of those empowered by his Majesty. Till now, we never before heard of unions (organised unions) suggesting to the King's ministers and Parliament their dtity. " Was it not necessary for the Government to place the King and Parlia- ment in a situation of safety and freedom to deliberate, before the latter should be called upon to decide on such a serious matter as the reform of the constitution ? Ought not the people to be informed that these unions, these military organisations and arrays, these armaments for the pretended purposes of keeping the peace, but in reality to control the Government and the Parliament, were illegal; and that his Majesty's Government have the will as well as the power, of putting them down ? That once done, the reform of Parliament might be considered with honour and safety, if not with advantage. Till those unions were put down, it did not much signify, in reality, what course was taken." It is obvious from the tone of this communication, that the sub- ject uppermost in the Duke's mind was the necessity of relieving Parliament from the external pressure which, according to his view of the case, rendered calm and deliberate legislation on any subject impossible. Little notice is therefore taken of the special information conveyed in his correspondent's letter; while Lord Wharncliffe is urged to require, as a step preliminary to all others, that the ministers should either suppress the political unions, or separate themselves from them. But the Duke's suggestions do not appear to have been understood in the sense which he intended them to convey, for on the 24th he received from Lord Wharncliffe a detailed account, both of what had passed in an interview be- tween Earl Grrey and himself, and of the results to which it was expected that their negotiation would lead. Lord Wharncliffe, it appeared, had waited on Earl Grrey at his house in Sheen by ap- pointment. They had discussed the ministerial bill and its prin- ciples for two hours, without ever adverting to the unions, or to the noxious influence exercised by them upon Parliament ; and Lord Wharncliffe considered that he had achieved great success, when, in point of fact, he appears to have conceded everything. Lord Wharncliffe's account of the transaction is given in a long letter addressed to the Duke. He says that " He opened the conference by expressing his anxiety that the country should be taken, if possible, oixt of its then dangerous condition ; and his desire to know whether the opposers and promoters of the late bill might 492 MEMOIE OP THE DUKE OP WELLINGTON. 1831. not come to some understanding wliicli should soften the feelings of both. His wishes, in these respects, being fi-ankly reciprocated, he went on to put questions which di-ew from Earl Grey answers to the following effect : — that Lord Grey considered himself pledged to the enii'anchisement of a certain number of great towns, and to give additional members to certain coimties ; that 101. must be the qualification in the towns so enfranchised, and that the process of disfranchisement in the small boroughs should ex- tend as far as it had been carried in Schedule A. of the former bill. As to the number of members to be given to the towns so dealt with, that was a question which, when the division of counties and the regulations to which the 101. fi.-anchise should be subjected came to be considered, lay fairly open to discussion. " In regard to Schedule B., the impression conveyed to Lord Wharn- cliffe's mind Avas, that the minister was himself not quite satisfied with it ; and that giving up the idea of a diminution in the total nimiber of repre- sentatives for the United Kingdom, arrangements might be made for taking some of the doomed boroughs out of that schedule. Lord Grey was, however, averse, under any circumstances, to swell the constituencies of boroughs by throwing into them portions of counties, but was willing, so long as the power of nomination were given up, to treat all that part of the bill as subject to consideration elsewhere. "With respect to the proposal to give additional members to Ireland, the minister expressed himself fully alive to the dangers which must attend that act. But Scotland had increased so much in wealth and popu- lation that she had a just right to an enlarged representation ; and if they gave additional members to Scotland, he did not see how they could reflise a similar boon to Ireland. Then, again, he felt the force of the objections which had been raised to the mrdtipli cation of electoral districts in Lon- don, and said that possibly some expedient might be devised for effecting a change in that respect. He was, moreover, quite convinced that steps ought to be taken for preventing the influence of large towns, themselves sending members to Parliament, from being brought to bear upon coimty elections. " Some further conversation followed, out of which Lord Wharncliffe was led to hope, that the principle of population in boroughs would be modified by taking it in connection with the number of houses in each, and the amount of taxation paid by the inhabitants; and he seems to have received an assurance that the limits of boroughs should be settled, not by commissioners, as had been proposed, but in the bill ; and that the population I'etiu-ns of 1821 and 1831 would be set aside, as notoriously incorrect." In return for these trifling concessions, if, indeed, concessions they deserve to be called. Lord Wharncliffe gave Earl Grey the assurance, that he would do what he could to bring the opposition lords to take a more favourable view than they had previously done of the ministerial scheme and its probable consequences. He acknowledged that, with others, he had originally hoped that dis- 1831. COERESrONDENCE CONTINUED. 493 franchisement would not have been carried so far as it was in Schedule A. ; hut that now, after what he had heard, he was in- clined to believe that a bill giving to certain large towns the pri- vilege of sending raembers to Parliament, — disfranchising the smaller and poorer boroughs, and increasing the number of county representatives, would not meet with the same determined oppo- sition as had been offered to it last session. This was followed by a cordial shaking of hands, and permission was given on either side, to communicate with intimate friends and colleagues. And so, after deriving great comfort from the bitterness with which Earl Grey gpoke of the newspapers, and their manner of expressing themselves. Lord Wharncliffe took his leave ; flattering himself that the matter was in a better train than it had been in for some time, and that it would end in their obtaining something like a reason- able measure at last. The memorandum, of which we have here endeavoured to give the substance, was transmitted to the Duke along with another paper, wherein were set forth the fundamental principles on which Lord Wharncliffe and Lord Harrowby had agreed that the great conservative party ought to treat. These papers were accompanied by a private letter, of which the tone was less confident than that of the concludino' sentences in the memorandum : but which was so far consistent with the sentiments there expressed, that it spoke of the utter impossibility of expecting or obtaining better terms. The Duke lost no time in replying both to this letter and to the documents which accompanied it. " He admitted that the circumstances of the times, the extent to which the King's name had been made use of, and the direct pecuniary intei-est which some of the party had in the maintenance of the existing system of representation, might render it necessary to consider of some changes. Be this, however, as it might, he had no power to offer effectual oppo- sition to the consideration of such changes, or to the changes themselves, provided those who had heretofore been satisfied with Parhament should think, that future resistance would produce greater evils than could be expected to follow upon the most extensive changes proposed. " This was not his opinion. He believed that the country could be governed with difficulty under the existing system ; that the difficulty was luiqnestionably increased for the moment, principally by the part which the King had been induced to take ; and he did not see how the govern- ment of the country was to be carried on at all, under either of the systems of representation proposed, if the King and his government were expected still to protect establishments, institutions, rights, interests, or property, as they then existed in England. Under these circumstances, 494 MEMOm OP THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1831. the DulvG "would deceive liis correspondent, Lord Harrrowby, and tlie public, if he took any part in their deliberations. " His view of the case was this, that, contrary to the opinions and wishes of men of property and education, an effort was now making to form a democratic parliament. Hitherto the House of Commons had been the representative of the whole nation — of the lowest ranks through the pot-wallopping and the scot-and-lot boroughs and the populous towns — of the middling classes through the counties, the maritime towns, and the towns of moderate size in the interior of the country, and of the whole of society through the close or rotten boroughs. According to the best of the systems proposed, they must hereafter have in Parliament a vast majority of the representatives of the lowest class. The whole system of our government, and of oiu* social existence, must be altered accordingly, or the country must prepare itself for a renewal of those contests between the crovini and the people fi-om Avhich it had been fortunately so long exempt." The Duke's reasoning was either entirely overlooked or mis- understood by Lord WharnclifFe. He replied to it by a frank avowal, that looking to the circumstances in which the Duke was placed, and to the opinions which he had expressed on the great question, he (Lord Wharncliffe) had never hoped for his Grrace's co-operation in the endeavour to obtain a mere modification of the measure which the Government had proposed. It was, however, a satisfaction to him to find that, being made aware of his own and of Lord Harrowby's feelings upon the subject, his Grrace did not blame them for endeavouring to render somewhat less dangerous that of which they could not entirely get rid. *' The case as put by the Duke, Lord Wharncliffe observed, was per- fectly fair. His Grace thought that the country could with difficulty be governed under the existing system, and doubted whether the government could be carried on at all under that proposed by the ministry, even if it should be modified and altered according to the suggestions of Lord Har- rowby and himself. They, on the contrary (Lord Harrowby and himself), were persuaded that a continuance of the present state of things, even for a short time, would involve the country in difficulties ; — that such diffi- culties could be averted only by timely concession, which, if it did not avoid dangers that at the most were only prospective, and therefore not quite certain, would, at all events, remove those Avhich were imminent, and give time to provide, as well as could be done, against others Avhich they believed that they foresaw. " There was, however, another point of view in which to look at the present state of affairs. Had they the power to resist this measure, or the leading principles of it? The House of Lords, by their late vote, had given to the country an opportunity of getting rid of those principles, if there really was any wish of that nature. What had been the result ? Scarcely any demonstration in support of the House of Lords ; and where 18.31. THE DUKES ARGUMENT. 495 such had been feebly shown, it had been accompanied by declarations ■which, in fact, admitted that the principles of the bill, as fir as they went to the enfranchisement of populous and wealthy places, and the disfran- chisement of small and poor ones, ought to be conceded. Wliere, then, Avas the battle to be fought ? Certainly not in the House of Commons. In the House of Lords, and against the Crown, its ministers, the House of Commons, and the people — to whom an appeal had been once more made to reconsider the question ? This appeared to him to be impossible ; and, if possible, must be attended with the greatest danger to the state. For first, it would probably lead to such an addition to the peerage as must, for all purposes of deliberate legislation, destroy the House of Lords. And next, they must depend upon means to which none of them desired to have recoiu-se, and which, besides, might not altogether be trusted to keep the nation quiet. He therefore held to his former opinion, that tlie time had come for solving the difficulty by mutual concession : and he beHeved that the course which Lord Harrowby and himself had adopted was the only one of which existing circumstances admitted." Lord Wharncliffe's reasoning was not such as to carry conviction to the mind of his correspondent, and the Duke lost no time in pointing out to him how completely it went wide of the point really under discussion. " He explained that his lordship was quite mistaken in supposing that he (the Duke) had in any manner pledged himself on the question of Par- liamentary Eeform. He was perfectly free to take on that subject what- ever course might appear to be expedient. Indeed, it seemed to him that the strong ground of those who had resisted the late bill was this, that they did not constitute a party at all. The government to which the Duke had belonged had been broken down by a union between those fi-om whom he had separated on the Roman Catholic question, and others who had uniformly voted in support of that question. Some belonging to both of these parties, and men of all parties and opinions, had joined to oppose the Reform Bill, without entering into any bargain upon that or upon any other question whatever. The Duke did not think that any of these per- sons, who now considered it right to support the bill, or a modification of it, afforded any ground of complaint to the rest ; but, on the other hand, he could not feel that they who believed themselves bound to persevere in their opposition to these measures, and even to endeavour to induce the House of Lords to continue its opposition to them, ought in fairness to be regarded as a faction. It might be very convenient for the Government to call them so, but he must deny the justice of the imputation. " The question as it then stood was one of degree. He admitted that he should not so regard it, but that the King had involved himself in it ; for it was his firm belief that if the Government could carry their bill at that moment, they would do so against the inclination of every man of property and education in the country. The King, however, had pro- nounced himself in favour of reform, and so far an unnatural impetus had been given to the movement ; but the more gradual and gentle the reform, 496 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON". 1831. tlie better it -would be for the country, and tlie more satisfactory it would prove to all who knew wherein the interests of the country lay, and felt for its greatness and prosperity. His lordship had said that no human being spoke a word in favour of the House of Lords. Did he ever go into a private room where anybody spoke otherwise ? He seemed to have forgotten that the King and his Government had entered apparently into combination with the mob for the destruction of property. Who would venture, under such circumstances, to express his sentiments in public ? Look about, and observe the state of society. Would magistrates venture to do their duty ? Would any man put himself forward upon any sub- ject ? Was not every man doubting whether the power of government which he was called upon to exercise might not be in contravention of the wishes of the King and his ministers, and that he himself might be left unsupported ? Under these circumstances, it could not be expected that gentlemen would come forward to declare opinions which all the world knew that they entertained, but the avowal of which might expose them to the risk of being hunted even through their own parks and gardens. His lordship said, that the evils which the Duke apprehended were remote and contingent, while those of which he was himself apprehensive were imme- diate. The Duke positively denied the existence of the latter. The Government had the power of preventing, or of putting them down ; the whole country would support them. As to the former, not a week would pass in the first session of the reformed Parliament without affording ex- amples of them. Would any one undertake to say what style of person would be returned under the new system by any county, town, or borough in England, L^eland, or Scotland ? Yet that was the pomt of inquiry to which wise and good men, undertaking to settle this question, ought to direct their attention ; and they ought not to stir a step in it, situated as the country then was, without knowing the i-esult." This reference to the probable ill-treatment by mobs of public men who ventured to express opinions in opposition to the bill, was very appropriate. Lord Wharncliffe himself, on his return into Yorkshire, after the adverse division in the House of Lords, had been chased through his own park and gardens, and narrowly escaped with life. It is possible that the circumstance may have had some effect in bringing about the change of opinions which the Duke was combating. But, however this may be. Lord Wharncliffe persevered in his attempt to come to an under- standing with the Grovernment, continuing his correspondence with the Duke all the while. On the 28th of November, for example, he wrote to the following effect : — " That he concurred in the views which the Duke had taken of the state of parties in the House of Lords ; — that, equally with his Grace, he felt that each individual peer was at perfect liberty, notwithstanding the vote which he had recently given, to take any line on the reform, or any other question which he might think proper ; and that it was a great happiness 1831. CORRESPONDENCE CONTINUED. 497 to him to communicate with one, who dealt so fairly and liberally with every opinion that he expressed. " On the main points of the argument, hoAvever, they were quite at variance. He did not deny that the House of Lords had done itself honour by the course which it had just taken, but he Avas perfectly satis- fied that a majority of those, who were neither in Parliament them- selves, nor mixed much in political circles, believed that the Lords had committed a mistake in not going into committee with the bill, and try- ing to alter it there. As to reform, so far at least as the disfranchising of small boroughs and enfranchising of large towns meant reform, he Avas satisfied that only an inconsiderable minority of persons of property and education were adverse to it ; and he believed that an administration un- Avilling to concede these points, would not only not be supported, but that the attempt to form it would be the signal for violence, Avhich Avould soon become too poAverful to be controlled. ' You must ahvays remember,' he continued, ' that those persons whom you see, know your opinions, and conform their language to them. But be assured that you are deceived, as you have been before, on the subject of reform, if you believe that any- thing can save the nomination boroughs. The events of the last year have so damaged them in the public mind, and the arguments that we have been driven to use in their faA^our are so unintelligible to everybody Avho has not, by being in Parliament, seen the practical use of their exist- ence, — Avhile those against them are so palpable to everybody's under- standing, that they absohitely stink in the nose of the country. Nay, I am persiiaded that even if they could be preserved, those persons who sat for them Avould be placed in the House of Commons in a quite different position from that Avhich they have hitherto held.' " Lord Wharncliffe then goes on to notice the Duke's remarks with respect to the difficulty of governing the country under the existing system. He neither denies that fact, nor calls in question the extent of the risks which might attend the proposed change of system ; but he holds to his old opinion, that these risks were con- tingent merely, and that the only choice Avas, between incurring them, and the attempt to carry on the government with the aid of constant military interference. Nor had he any doubt that a good deal of the democratic tendency of the measure might be neutralised by regulations and changes after the nomination boroughs had been abandoned. We consider it right to give a good deal in detail the substance of the reply which this communication called forth ; because it places in a clear point of view the motive from Avhich the Duke acted, and the chain of reasoning which brought him under its in- fluence. " He admitted that he might be mistaken as well as other men in re- spect to public opinion, not less than in regard to Avhat might occur in K K 498 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1831. future, but he could not be deceived respecting the past. He was quite certain that his Government had been broken doAvn by the Eoman CathoHc question, and by the conduct of parties in reference to that question, and not by parHamentary reform. He was convinced that if those who com- bined against him on that occasion could have foreseen what had since happened, much more what was likely to occur, the ministry would not have been changed. They would have heard nothing of the King's desire for reform ; the rage for reform would have Sjoent itself as heretofore, and the country would have been saved. He was satisfied that his information Avas correct, when he stated that the gentlemen and better description of yeomanry, and others possessing property in the intelligent and opulent counties of Kent and Hampshire, were against the Government measure. He believed that he could name as many as a dozen other coimties in the south of England, where the same opinion prevailed. And he had reason to believe that in Scotland no small reaction had set in, and that in Ireland the Protestants were to a man against any change. He admitted that men in general were not well informed of the uses, nor sensible of the value of the close boroughs in our system ; but he could not on that account admit that if they were retained, those who sat for them would cease to have Aveight in the House of Commons. The use of such boroughs Avas, that they opened the door of the House to men of talent who could not otherAvise find their Avay there : and these men must ahvays command attention wherever they Avere. He admitted, likeAvise, that the constitution and habits of the House of Lords were not generally under- stood, nor the reasons Avhich made it difficult to amend a legislative measure in a committee of that House. The House might therefore be liable to undeserved censure for having considered of rejecting rather than of amending the late bill. Still the conduct of the House of Lords Avas, he maintained, generally approved, and men who felt that their existence de- pended upon the continuance of good order in the country, looked to the House of Lords Avith confidence, and would see its constitutional poAver destroyed Avith dismay. MoreoA'er, he Avas bound to tell his correspondent that when he thought of Avhat Avould be the state of this country under the control of the reformed House of Commons, he Avas not dealing with mere fancies. He looked at Avhat Avas going on in England at the present moment ; he saAV Avhat had passed and Avas passing in other countries under a similar system of government. It might be the British Constitu- tion in name, but it Avas not so in fact, as the British Constitution had been acted upon for the last 150 years. Indeed, every advocate for reform admitted that when their point Avas carried, corresponding changes in the practice of the Constitution must be introduced. Noav what were these changes likely to be ? What he feared was, the destruction of the race of gentlemen in the country, and Avith them of its glory, its honour, and its prosperity. For it AA^as a fillacy to believe that any class — least of all the lowest — Avould benefit by that catastrophe. He defied all the political economists and reformers in the Avorld to proAade for more than 22,000,000 of people, half so Avell as all the classes of the population Avcre provided for at that moment. 183!. THE DUKES EEASOXING. 499 " StiJl, in spite of all tliese considerations!, it miglit, he acknowledged, be necessary to consider of improvements in the representation of the people. If so, let them proceed practically ; let them adhere to the principle of Avdiat was in existence, examine well the probable effect of every improve- ment before it was introduced, and the actual effect before another was proposed, and then they might preserve the country. If the bill were taken, or even Lord Wharncliffe's improvement on it, as he (the Duke) understood it, neither Lord Grey nor any nobleman of his cii'cle, nor any gentleman of his caste, Avould govern the country six Aveeks after the reformed Parliament met, and the race of English gentlemen woiild not last long afterwards. Such was his sincere opinion, founded on what he saw going on around him, and had seen elsewhere, and he earnestly re- couDnended it to the attention of others." It may be taken as part of the Duke's idiosyncrasy, that whatever subject he undertook to discuss, the terms in which he dealt with it were not always very rigidly measured. His argument, as here stated, may appear to many wild in the extreme, time and events having long ago confuted it. But is the case really so ? Was the Duke referring to the physical or even to the intellectual condition of the great body of the people ? Nothing of the sort. His mind's eye was fixed upon the great institutions of the country ; upon the prerogatives of the Crown, especially in the selection of its ministers; upon the Established Church, with all its rights and privileges ; upon the House of Lords, and its power to control and modify the decisions of the House of Commons ; and upon the intimate con- nection between the House of Commons itself, and the territorial interest, which he held to be the very foundation-stone of England's greatness. Will anybody pretend to say, that these or any of them hold the same vantage-ground which they occupied previously to the passing of the Eeform Bill of 1832? Are we not, on the contrary, in the full current of change, which, though less rapid than the Duke anticipated, is not less steady ; and which, for better or for worse, may, perhaps must, recast, in a great degree, the whole order of society among us ? Let no man, therefore, say of the Duke that he was frightened at a shadow, or that the language which he held, and the line of conduct which he pursued, was at variance with his acknowledged magnanimity and patriotism. They might indicate — possibly they did — a less intimate acquaintance with the temper of the people of England, than a great statesman ought to possess. They showed that he had studied the character of the democracy, rather in foreign countries than in his own. But they were, looking to all the circumstances, neither puerile nor morbid. He struggled, in point of fact, for what he believed to be a great principle ; l)y what process and with what effect will K K 2 500 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1831. best be understood after a careful perusal of the following in- teresting letter to Sir Robert Peel. After acknowledging the receipt of a note enclosing a com- munication from Lord Wharnclifife, the Duke proceeds to say — ''That he likewise had had some correspondence with that nobleman, upon the subject of his communications with Government respecting the changes in the Reform Bill. After receiving Lord WharncliiFe's explanation of his own and Lord Harrowby's views, as Avell as the details of his conversation with Lord Grey, he had told Lord WharnclifFe that he could not be a party to his deliberations with Lord Harrowby. Lideed he had before observed to him, that Lord Grey had never intended to include him (the Duke of Wellington) in the number of peers who entertained the same opinions as himself and Lord Harrowby. At the same time he had observed to Lord "Wharnclilfe, that as Government appeared by their proclamation against political unions to be disposed to break with the Eadicals, they must rely upon him (Lord WliarnclifFe) and his friends for support. That his posi- tion would thus become one of power and responsibility, and that both must be increased in proportion as the opponents of the Reform Bill might manifest a disposition to co-operate Avith him. He had therefore earnestly urged him to agree to nothing, which should not leave to the country some prospect of being governed. " Passing on fi'om this subject, the Duke states it as his opinion that the proclamation of the 22nd, just alluded to, was a made-up affair with the Radicals. " About three weeks previously he had written to the King respecting the danger that would result from the political unions taking arms and forming themselves into National Guards, to which at that time they were daily incited by the government newspapers. He liad informed his Majesty that, according to information which had reached him, a contract had been entered into for supplying the Birmingham Union with arms. The King had replied immediately, stating in strong terms his ojDinion that these armaments could not be tolerated, and his conviction that his minis- ters concurred in that opinion, and would resist them. His Majesty having sent to Lord Grey the Duke's communication and his own answer, the Duke had corresjionded with Lord GTey respecting the arming of these associations, and subsequently respecting their organisation, the result of which was the proclamation. It Avas on the 7th that the Duke had written to the King, and in the course of the week the tone of the news- papers on the subject of these armaments underAvent a complete change. The Duke was therefore of opinion, that Lord Grey must have been aware on the 8th or the 9th of his communication to the King, and of his Majesty's answer. What the date of Lord Grey's first communication Avith Lord Wharncliffe might have been, he could not tell ; but it Avas probably about the same time. At all events he Avas satisfied that the proclamation came out in consequence of the remonstrance Avhich he had made to Lord Grey on the previous Sunday on the subject of the orga- nisation of lhe Birmingham Union, and in answer to a letter Avhich he 1831. THE duke's LETTER TO SIE ROBERT PEEL. ^01 had received from Lord Grey, communicating the results of inquiries Avhich had been instituted into the reported armament of the Union. " The King, he observed, had been very much excited by his com- munication on the subject of armaments, and the Duke considered it pro- bable, that the Government thereupon notified to their friends of the press that they were going too far. Probably they did the same by the Bir- mingham Union. At all events he knew that his Majesty had seen his letters to Lord Grey. He had himself sent copies of the first, in which he had told Lord Grey that he would not find it an easy matter to deprive of their arms an association which had once assumed them, and that the public ought to be warned by authority of the illegal and dangerous course which these iinions were pursuing. He thought it most likely, also, that his Majesty had seen his last letter to Lord Grey, of which, however, he did not send his INIajesty a copy, containing his remonstrance against the organisation of the union, and his statement that it Avas the same as that of the United Irishmen, and could be intended only for military purposes. Neither had he forgotten to remonstrate against the pretensions of the union to keep the peace, and to control the Government and Parliament. His opinion therefore was, that the King must have insisted upon the issue of the proclamation, and that the ministers prevailed upon the Radicals to submit to it by informing them that the Government must break up if they did not. " He could not on any other grounds account for the meeting of the Birmingham Union on the 22nd, and the withdrawal of the resolution respecting organisation ; that being the very day on which the proclama- tion was published in London, and the day after that on which it must have been agreed to in council. If this view of the case were correct, and appearances strongly confirmed it, then very little reliance could be placed on the honesty of the Whig Government, and Lord WharnclifFe would certainly become its dupe. " On the other hand, supposing the Government to have separated from the Radicals, it was impossible to tell what would be the result of Lord Wharncliffe's negotiation. He (the Duke) had done everything in his power to make Lords WharnclifFe and Harrowby sensible of the responsi- bility which they were assuming. If they remained firm, some of the evils of the bill might be averted, and the country would have gained so much by the persevering labour of the minority of the House of Commons, and the firmness of the majority of the House of Lords." The result of Lord Wharncliffe's negotiation was exactly such as the Duke appears all along to have anticipated. It came to nothing, and on the 29th of November his lordship communicated the fact to the Duke in the following terms : — " Ciirzon Street. " My dear Duke, " I have seen Lord Grey again this morning, and have had a long conversation Avith him, the result of which is, that although I wait for Harrowby's arrival, which I expect this evening, I have no idea that any- K K 3 502 MEMOIK OF THE DUKE OF AVELLINGTON. 1831. tiling remains for us to flo, but to put an end to tlie communication between us and the Government. I thought it only due to you to let you know this circumstance as eai-ly as possible."' The consequence of this faihire was, that while the Government returned to its close alliance with the Eadicals, the party opposed to the great question of the day broke up into two sections. That of which the Duke was at the head adhered to his original opinion, that come what might the House of Lords, if still unconvinced of the policy and justice of the ministerial measure, was bound to reject it as it had done before. Lord Wharncliffe and his friends, on the contrary, though thrown over in private discussion by Earl Grrey, continued to persuade themselves that by some process or another the ministers would be induced to concede a great deal to their wishes in committee. They appear, also, to have entertained the belief that however ready Lord Grrey might be to create peers in order to carry the second reading of the bill, he would not take so desperate a step for any less important purpose. Both sections of the party exerted themselves during the remainder of the recess to stamp their own views of things upon the minds of others. The waverers, and especially Lord Wharncliffe, engaged actively in a correspondence, which is not always remarkable for its strict adherence to logical principles. Assuming certain premises to be true, for which, as the event proved, they had no authority, they argued from them as if they had been acknowledged facts, and succeeded in deciding many against further opposition to the second reading. As to the Duke, his letters appear almost all to have been written in reply to communications from others. They differ little, in their general tone, from those to which we have just referred ; and are calm, argumentative, and, looking at the question from the point of view in which he regarded it, as wise as they are moderate. For example, he is implored by the Duke of Bucking- ham, on the 1st of January, 1832, to go to Brighton immediately to see the King, to urge his Majesty not to make peers, and to offer, himself, to form such a government as would be able to protect the Sovereign from the demand to make them. Being confined at the time by illness to his chamber, he replies — " That he could not follow the Duke's advice, even if he considered the course recommended to be advisable. Bu.t was it advisable ? When he wrote to the King in the previous November, on the armament of the political unions, he had a case in hand in which he was certain that nineteen-twentieths of the whole country would concur with him. He took that step, also, at a period of the year when he knew that if the King desired to get rid of the bonds in which he was held, he (the Duke) could 1831. LETTEH TO THE DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM. 503 assist him in doing so. There was time to call a new Parliament, and the sense of the country might have been taken on a question, about which there could be no doubt. But Avhat did the King do ? He concurred, even to exaggeration, in every opinion which the Duke expressed. His ministers saw that they had got into a scrape ; they prevailed upon the press and the political unions to alter their course ; they issued a mock procla- mation, and promised the King a bill to suppress the associations, which promise they never performed ; and the King became quite satisfied with them, and went on as before. This happened in a really good and un- doubted case, and at a peculiarly favourable season of the year. How did the Conservative party stand, while he was writing, in the matter of the peerage ? " The Duke did not deny that the question of the independence of the House of Lords was a very important one for the country ; or that the country, if it understood what was really proposed to it, would respond favourably to an appeal in support of that independence. But Avould the country be allowed to imderstand the nature of the appeal ? Would not the move be represented or luiderstood to be an appeal on the question of reform ? And then was there time to make the appeal, or to get a new Parliament together ? Even if they were to dissolve on that day (2nd of January) they could not open a new Parliament till the 8th of March at the earliest ; and on the 25th of March the Mutiny Act exj)ired. "Observe next what was to be done. He (the Duke) was to see the King, to advise him to refuse to create peers, to tell him that he would form a government to protect him from that demand, to convince his Majesty that he was really able to protect him. He Avould then have a government to form and the Parliament to dissolve, which, using all pos- sible haste, could not be done under ten days ; and so the opening of the second Parliament would be put off to the 18th of March. " Biit perhaps they might be able to go on without a dissolution. That was clearly out of the question. The existing House of Commons had been formed on purpose to carry parliamentary reform. It was a member of the conspiracy against the House of Lords. It would not hear of a minister who should found his authority on the basis of protection to the independence of the House of Lords. When, therefore, he went to the King, he must answer the first question which his Majesty would put to him, by saying that no ministry, founded on the principle of supjwrting the independence of the House of Lords, could look for the sujiport of the existing House of Commons ; and that he could not, at that moment, advise his Majesty to dissolve his Parliament. " But would the King embark with the Duke on a new course ? His Majesty would, in the first place, so manage his conversation, as to dis- cover whether the Duke himself had any confidence in the course which he was recommending. If the King should discover that the Duke saw the risks and dangers, Avhich as an honest and experienced man he could not avoid seeing, his Majesty would shake him off, and would found his compliance with the recommendations of his ministers u.pon the vciy reasoning which had been pressed iipon him by the Duke." K K 4 504 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1831. The individual, to whom this letter was addressed, had implored his correspondent to consider himself on the tield of battle ; and to risk all, as he knew that he would do, against a foreign enemy, in order to save the country. We cannot give the Duke's answer in any other words than his own : — " I know that the times are approaching, if not come, when men must consider themselves as on a field of battle, and must sacrifice themselves to the public interests. But it behoves a man like me to look around him, and to consider the consequences, not to himself alone, but, what is more important, to the public interests, of every step he takes. And I must say that, taking that view of the case, I differ in opinion with you ; and am convinced that I should do harm, rather than good, by inter- ference." We have given this as a specimen of the manner in which the Duke met a strong appeal made to him on the subject which then occupied all minds. In discussing another question, he appears to have taken the initiative. The Irish Protestants were at this time becoming very impatient. They could not brook the insults that were daily heaped upon them by the Eoman Catholics, and they were irritated by the neglect with which the King's Government treated them. A great meeting was called in conse- quence from all parts of the country, and was advertised as about to be held on the I7th instant, in the Eotunda at Dublin. De- precating that move, the Duke wrote, on the 7th, to Lord Roden, to the following effect : — " He entertained, he said, a very high opinion of the Protestants of Ireland, and particularly of the class which would probably be assembled on the occasion in question ; but he confessed that, being accustomed to deal with masses of men, he could not look with confidence to the safety of so numerous an assembly (20,000 were expected to attend), unless their arrangement and classification were very perfectly made and under- stood, and it was knoAvn what each man was to do, and with whom he was to act, in case of attack or interruption. Without such previous arrangement and understanding, 20,000 gentlemen would be just as much a mob, as any other assembly of equal numbers. They could only submit to an organised attack, if it were made upon them. " He would suppose some probable cases ; first, that the Radicals of Dublin should attack the Protestant gentlemen — tha^ was not impossible; some might even believe that it was probable. Would the Government protect the meeting of the Protestant gentlemen ? Secondly, suppose the Government Avere to recommend that the meeting should not take place, or were to prohibit its taking place, on the groimd of apprehended dis- turbance. Would not the meeting be an act, in that case, very little in accordance with the feelings of the great body of the Protestants of Ire- land ? Thirdly, suppose the Government should oi-der the civil magistrate 183-2. MEETING OF lEISH PROTESTANTS. 505 to disperse the meeting. Would not tliat occasion a good deal of feelin"- among all the better classes, and be a complete triumph to the Radicals ? " In whatever light he regarded the prop>osed meeting, it was a subject of regret to him that it had been called ; and he was satisfied that unless every man fully understood what he was expected to do, there could be no safety for any who attended it." The meeting, fortunately, instead of being attended by 20,000, scarcely comprised 2000 persons ; and as all these were accom- modated within the walls of the Eotimda, it passed over without bloodshed. The same hand which thus puts on record sage advice in reference to events that are impending, is called upon to write about the property of the Established Church in Ireland, and the state of the labour market, and of the currency in England. The prospects of the Church are thus rapidly disposed of : — " The wi'iter is convinced that the landed interest of Ireland, that is to say, the Protestants, if fairly supported as they ought to be by the Govern- ment, and supporting the Government as they ought, are too strong, whether in a moral, a political, or a military view, for all the rest. He does not think that the Government are yet prepared to act Avith the Eoman Catholics for the overthrow of the Church of England in Ireland. They must be better supported than they are as yet, both in and out of Parlia- ment, particularly in regard to the affairs of the Church, before they can venture upon such a contest. We must see what a reformed Parliament, and a ministry forced by that| Parliament upon the King, will do in respect to the Church in general, and that part of it in Ireland in par- ticular. The latter is, however, at the outposts, and the first to be attacked." And yet the statesman who looked thus suspiciously upon the Government was too honest to oppose them in their Irish Tithe Commutation Act when it came on. He believed that the clergy, though forced by that measure to make a sacrifice, would gain more in the avoidance of angry collision with the tenantry, than they lost in income : and finding that the Primate took the same view of the subject, he voted for the bill. On the labour and currency questions the Duke expresses him- self thiis ; showing thereby that he had been no careless student of Adam Smith, but that, possibly, he had either not read, or had failed to catch the entire meaning of Malthus, Eicardo, and, above all, of JNIill, the ablest of the disciples of the great Glasgow professor :— " In respect to labour in England, it is one of the most difficult to^^ics of our time. The labourer has acquired some very bad habits of late 506 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OP WELLINGTON. 1832. years, Avliich, at tlie same time that tRey render his subsistence more ex- pensive to himself; incapacitate him from rendering service to his employer of a value equal to the money price paid to him for that service. This has unfortunately occurred at a period when the increase of population in the country, the growing increase of the use and capability of machinery to perform the service of men's hands, and the great decrease of public expenditure, and the general increase of capitalisation throughout the country, have increased the supply of labourers, and have diminished the demand for their services to an amoimt that is quite distressing. But I confess that I consider what we see now as nothing to what we shall witness by and by, when the prospect of the Reform Bill being carried will have approached a little nearer to us, and will have produced the effect which must be expected from it, of putting an end to private expenditure. " I quite concur with you that every coiuitry labourer should have land. I should think four acres too much. I should think one acre would be sufficient. If he holds more he will not labour for hire. This country would soon in that respect resemble Ireland. " In respect to paper currency, your lordship does me ju.stice in be- lieving that I have no objection to reccmsider that or any other subject upon Avhich I have formed and given an opinion. I say this with the reserve always of avoiding, in the mode of consideration, the holding out expectation to the public of changes which might not after all be deemed advisable. " My objection to allow of an unlimited issue of 11. notes in England is, that it enables anybody who sets up as a banker in the country to trade upon the property of others as his capital. He issues his notes upon loans and interest, and the borrower, with these notes, buys the property of any description that is in the market. The banker stops jDayment, and he who holds the notes, and has given valuable property for them, is the loser. This is the simple transaction, and I contend that the legislature ought, in a state of society like ours, to prevent such transactions. '* It may be said that the holder of valuable pi'operty is not under the necessity of giving it for these notes. That is true in respect to legal necessity, but the attendant upon this system is, that every other descrip- tion of money moves out of the country. This would appear, indeed, to be one of the objects of the system. The holder of valuable property must then sell or exchange it for notes, or not sell at all ; of course then he will sell for notes. " But it is contended that we will take security from the issuer of these notes. The mode of taking this secru'ity, in proportion to the amount of notes in circulation, is not very easy; but security at all, which I know at one time was much talked of, is very difficult. The whole of a banker's, and of every man's personal property is, at this moment, security for all his debts. How is it possible to allot a portion to be security for a par- ticular description of debt in the shape of a one-poimd promissory note ? But would the country bankers give this secui-ity ? I was in the Cabinet, and recollect Mr. Yansittart's endeavour to arrange such a plan. He was 1832. THE DUXE ON THE CrEEENCY. 507 velieineutly opposed by all the coiintiy bankers, and by all over whom this powerful body had any influence. " As I said before, the arrangement of a security proportioned to the dealings in small notes of each country banker, is a very difficult opera- tion. But if it should be successful, I must say, that nearly all the advan- tage expected to be derived from the taking off the restriction upon the circulation of these notes would fail. Country bankers would then feel that they gave security for every pound that they should lend to a farmer or other individual. They would become as cautious of making loans in their own paper, as they now are in making them in their oAvn notes of 5/. and 101. value, which they know that they are liable to be called upon to exchange for gold at any moment. Thus but little facility would be given to speculation according to this scheme. " But it is contended that there will not be a sufficient sum of money in circulation for the purposes of the country. I believe that if people would not shut their eyes to the truth, they would find that there is more money now in circulation than there ever has been before. But this is quite certain, that no more would be issued and circulated than would be absolutely necessary, and possibly not so much as is now in circulation, under the proposed system. Particularly if it should be possible to dis- cover a mode of obtaining security fi-om country bankers, for the paymeiit of every small note that they should issue, into which they would consent to enter." 508 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OP WELLINGTON. ISS: CHAP. XXXVII. EEFORM BILL. — SECOND EEADIN^G CAERIED, — THE DTJKE ATTEMPTS TO FORM AN ADMINISTRATION. — HE FAILS. THE BILL PASSED. — THE DUKe's LIFE ATTEMPTED ON THE 18tH OF JUNE. The time drew on when Parliament was to meet, and still the minds of the opposition lords remained unsettled. Lord "WTiarn- cliffe, indeed, re-opened his correspondence, not only with the Duke, but with the Grovernment. To the former he reiterated all the arguments which he had employed during the previous autumn, and added an earnest request that, in the event of the second reading being carried, the Duke would so far give way as to assist him and his friends in their attempts to take the sting out of the bill. From the latter he strove to obtain a promise, that no new peers would be made, provided the principle of the bill, as Lord Grrey had on a former occasion explained it, should be established. At the same time Lord Wharncliffe, in writing to the Duke, neither disguised his own abhorrence of the measure, nor made any secret of his alarm at the consequences which must attend its enactment into law : — " Satisfied as he was that the old Constitution answered every purpose of good government, he was ready to incui* any amount of odium, or even of hazard, rather than allow a mere party in the Houses of Parliament, with the aid of the Eadicals and Dissenters, to overbear the opinions and wishes of the wiser part of his countrymen. But all that had passed during the pre- ceding year and a half satisfied him, that the number of those was very small indeed, out of the Houses of Parliament, who did not believe a con- siderable measure of reform to be necessary. He could not, therefore, persevere in obstinately refusing such a measure as would enable the country to ward ofi" the bloAv which was too evidently aimed at all its institutions. " But he went further than this. He had never ceased, since the bill was thrown out in the Lords, to regret that its refusal had been unac- companied by some resolution, in accordance with the opinion which everywhere prevailed, that the time was come for applying a remedy to the blots and defects, which confessedly existed in the Constitution, Had such a resolution passed the House, he was convinced that they would have been now in a far better condition to deal Avisely with the ministerial plan ; because from the absence of such a resolution the 1832. LORD WITARNCLIFFE'S REASONING. 509 country had accepted their adverse vote as one of mere resistance to all reform. " Under these circumstances he and others had made up their minds to vote for the second reading, or, at all events, not to oppose that reading. When in committee they would do their best to amend the bill, and by the extent of their success or failure in that effort their future coixrse ■would be determined." It would serve no good purpose were we to give in full the rea- soning by which Lord Wharncliffe endeavoured to justify the policy on which he was bent. It turned entirely upon two hinges. First, who was prepared, if the present bill were rejected, to pro- pose another, such as the country might be expected to accept? Could the Duke, after his declaration against all reform, take this course ? Would it be reasonable to expect Sir Eobert Peel to do so ? And were there any other members of the party, in either House, whom the party would consent to follow? For it was quite clear to him that the ministerial measure could not be again re- jected, except by those who should be prepared to substitute for it a plan of reform, which, if not identical with that thrown out, must comprise all those of its features which appeared to him and to the majority in the Lords to be most objectionable. Next, if the House of Lords was to be saved at all, it could only be by giving way so far as to concede a second reading to the bill. And it was necessary, in order to effect that object, that some public avowal of their readiness to pass the second reading should be made. For it was consistent "with his personal knowledge, that the King had agreed to make as many peers as his ministers might require, in order to carry the second reading ; and the only reason why they were not already created was, that there were in the Cabinet a certain number of persons who desired to avoid that extremity, and who put it off from day to day by holding out the expectation that it would not be necessary at all. " But we cannot," continued he, " expect that they will, in the absence of any public declaration in support of their opinion, be long able to stand out against the more violent, who, from personal or party views, as well as from thinking their retention of office identical with this bill, are constantly pushing Lord Grrey to this measure, which not only insures the passing of the bill in its worst form, and the per- manence of Whig power in the House of Lords, but for ever puts an end to the respectability and weight of the House as a part of the legislature." Therefore was he urgent, that the Lords should no longer act on an erroneous notion of their duty. Their part in the Constitution, at such a crisis, was to interpose a moderate and well-considered check to the inroad of principles of too popular or 510 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGT0^7. 1832. democratic a character ; but not, after an unsuccessful appeal to the country, to persist in an obstinate refusal to try whether, by amendment, the obnoxious measure might not be rendered com- paratively safe. " Let us take care," he adds, " that we are not at issue with the Crown, the House of Commons, and the people, and that we do not become responsible for all the confusion which must ensue, without the least hope of final success in a struggle which we shall have unnecessarily provoked." The communication, of which we have extracted the substance, reached the Duke on the 1st of February, and on the 3rd he replied to it : — " It was impossible for him to accept Lord Wliarndiffe's view of the position, or to act as his lordship suggested. If evil followed the rejection of the second reading, the ministers, not the House of Lords, must bear the resjjonsibility. As to amending the bill in committee, that, from the very constitution of the House, would be next to impossible ; and if it were possible, what would be gained ? The administration, which was ready to sacrifice the independence of the House for the second reading of the bill, would be equally ready to create peers, in order to iindo what the committee might have effected. Had ministers adhered to any of their pledges ? They promised, at the outset, to bring forward a plan of moderate reform. Was the plan before them a moderate one ? They announced that they Avere prepared to stand or fall with their measure. Had they done so ? After carrying it to a second reading, and so esta- bbshing the principle, they had been defeated in committee on a point of detail ; and then, instead of falling with their bill, they dissolved Parlia- ment. In the new Parliament the same results take place. They are defeated in the Lords, and the line which they adopt is to prorogue, and to bring in a third bill, as mischievous as the first. But this was not all. What good had come of his lordship's former dealings with Earl Grey — ■ first, when they discussed the question face to face ; and by and by, when, under the auspices of Lord Chandos, they renewed the negotiation ? His lordship conid not say that the minister had yielded one point. " The Duke was perfectly satisfied that a Eeform Bill mtist novr pass. That had been rendered inevitable by the combination of the King, his ministers, and the House of Commons, with the political unions. He had not, however, changed his opinions since he expressed them in 1830 ; and was convinced, if this bill passed into law, the House of Lords must, sooner or later, perish, and with it all the great institutions of the country, including the monarchy. He therefore intended to do as he had done before ; he would make up his mind to nothing till the bill came into the House, and woiild then take such a course as might appear best : and he recommended others to do the same." Meanwhile every new day and every fresh piece of information which he received led more and more to the conviction that the struggle which impended would be desperate. One noble lord. 1832. THE duke's DETERMINATIOIS'. 511 for example, writes to say that he had learned from Mr. O'Connell that Lords Wbarncliffe and Harrowby had consented to support the second reading, on the understanding that not more than twelve new peers should be created. Another makes him aware that peer after peer of his own party is worked upon by the chiefs of the waverers to swerve from their steadfastness. A third assures him, on the authority of a friend who had been an ear- witness of what he repeats, that the Duke of Bedford described Earl Grey as determined to carry his measure in its integrity ; that if he could not carry the second reading without a large creation, a large creation should take place ; but that he was not thereby restricted from using the same means to prevent its mutilation in com- mittee. For the only change to which he might perhaps assent would be the transference of a few seats from one schedule to another, and that if more were attempted he should not hesitate to ask the King for any number of new peers up to a hundred. These were grave announcements, yet they had no power to move the Duke from the course which he believed to be that of duty ; indeed they tended only to confirm him in the persuasion at which he had already arrived, that the House of Lords would gain nothing by concession. In this spirit he expresses himself when he says — " My professional habits have, I believe, induced me, in general, to look forward and consider the consequences of any coiu\se of action which I am about to follow ; and occasionally to look back and consider the conse- quences Avhich have followed fi-om a previous determination. I Avish that noble lords would do something of the kind in relation to this Reform Bill. First of all, looking forward, they woiild find that if they vote for the Eeform Bill, and it passes, as it is, the Constitution of the coimtry is de- stroyed ; and the House of Lords will be the first institution to fall. If they vote against the Reform Bill, we are told that peers will be created. I don't dispute the truth of this assertion. It may be doubtfi.il Avhether every peer created will be a vote gained. But I admit that an additional creation of peers, for the purpose of carrying this question, will destroy the independence and the character of, and the respect for, the House of Lords. Is it not better that this, and the destruction of the Constitution, should be the act of the ministers, rather than of individual members of the House of Lords, who will vote for the bill at the same time that they disapprove of it ? " What will be the feeling of those who have carried this bill for the ministers, against their own opinions and inclinations ; but out of defe- rence to others who, by the by, were our leaders in the former debates ! " Let noble lords only look back upon the consequences of their vote. A few AvindoAvs Avere broken, and other outrages committed, but Ave have gained six months of time, during Avhich there has been a remarkable alteration of sentiment in the country. Let us gain more time, and the advocates of the bill know that Ave must get the better of them." 512 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTOX. 1832. Looking back to the state of public feeling, as it was expressed in the newspapers, at the period when the Duke thus spoke and wrote, the superficial observer will at once arrive at the conclusion, that he laboured under a complete delusion. They who had an op- portunity of seeing deeper than the surface of things, will be slow to endorse that opinion in its fulness. Undoubtedly the bill had a large majority of the people in its favour. Among its supporters were many able and honest men ; and the newspaper press, as well pro- vincial as metropolitan, generally wrote it up. But behind all these was arrayed no inconsiderable amount both of influence and good sense, which deprecated change, even for the better, provided vio- lence were necessary to bring it about. The Inns of Court, the Universities, most of the leading merchants in London, Liverpool, and Bristol, the heads of the great firms in Manchester, Birming- ham, and Glasgow, were generally hostile to the ministerial scheme; and recent events had gone far to confirm them in this opinion. We say nothing of the landed proprietors and clergy, of whom nine out of every ten were strong Conservatives ; or of the yeo- manry, a vast majority of whom, though dazzled at first, were awakened to a sense of danger, by the scenes which had been enacted in Bristol and Nottingham. And when we shall have deducted all these classes, or the bulk of them, from the sup- porters of the bill, surely it is not going too far to affirm that the Duke had at least some ground to rest upon when he stated that reaction had set in, and that there could be no risk of permanent confusion, should the House of Lords, still believing the bill to be a mischievous one, continue its opposition, and reject it. Be this however as it may, the Duke believed that resistance was the safest course left for the House of which he was a member ; and to the last moment he persevered in counselling and preparing for it. Meanwhile, several noblemen, who desired to follow his lead, yet could with difficulty screw their courage to the sticking place, endeavoured to divert him into, what they conceived to be, a safer course of opposition than that which he advised. One discovered that no plan of parliamentary reform ought to be considered, unless it came before the House as a complete measure. He therefore suggested that they ought to refuse a second reading to the bill, on the ground that it made no provision for the re-adjustment of the electoral system in Ireland. But to that proposal the Duke would not listen. He was ready to dare everything in defence of the Constitution as it stood, but he would not defend even the Con- stitution itself by a subterfuge. In like manner he refused to be a party to a motion against the creation of new peers, which he justly regarded as an attack upon the prerogative, and which he 1832. THE BILL IN THE HOUSE OF LORDS. 513 was convinced would serve but to precipitate the evil which it was intended to avert. Nor was this all. At a moment when the utmost exertion, both of mind and body, scarcely sufficed to carry him through the correspondence which the reform negotiation cast upon him, every peer who had a crotchet of his own to maintain, or a scheme to propose, laid it before the Duke, and besought him to become its advocate. " I assure you, my dear Lord," he writes to one of these, — " That in referring these matters to me, you entirely mistake my posi- tion. I cannot prevail upon Lord Ellenborougli and Lord Carnarvon to take a part in any question, unless it should suit tlieir views. I must first under- stand the object myself, and then impart my information to those noble lords. This is the case with hundreds of questions which noble lords think proper to propose for discussion in the House. I have to reconcile their jarring views and interests, and this by personal conference and dis- cussion with them all. There is no individual who, in these times, is equal to such a task, be his diligence and ability Avhat they may. My time, fi-om nine in the morning till midnight, is occupied in conferences, discussions, and correspondence ; and I declare that I am broken down by the weight unnecessarily, and in my opinion without advantage, imposed upon me. I can't see why Lord Wynford should not himself speak to Lord Ellenborougli and Lord Carnarvon. " He characterises most truly the Eeform Bill. The object is to aggran- dise one party. The result will be the ruin of the state. If men, interested in the preservation of the state, are sensible of this result, and will not unite cordially in their efforts to defeat the Reform Bill, the fault is not mine. " There are at this moment depending not less than half a dozen discus- sions upon which we cannot draAv together. Upon some of them, some noble lords insist upon having divisions previous to discussion. Is it not a hopeless task that is imposed upon any man to desire him to effect union in such a j^arty ? " At last the Bill, having been carried in the House of Commons, was introduced into the House of Lords. The first reading took place on the 26th of March, and the discussion which arose on that occasion, though brief, was, in the Duke's opinion, sufficiently indicative of the course which the minister had made up his mind to follow. Earl Grrey, he perceived, was determined to concede nothingj and expected to carry the second reading by a small majority. This done the House would probably adjourn for the Easter holidays, and during the recess peers enough would be created to overcome all resistance in committee. It is worthy of remark, that the Duke's views in regard to the latter arrangement were not generally entertained by noble lords on the opposition benches. Most of these expected to go into committee before the L L 514 MEMOIE OF THE DUKE OP WELLINGTON. 1832. Easter holidays, when time would not be afforded for the creation with which the Duke threatened them. And this expectation the waverers turned to account, in the resistance which they now openly made to the Duke's purpose of defeating the Bill on the second reading. The result was that when the day of trial arrived, a larger amount of defection than his worst fears had anticipated, manifested itself. After a grave debate which lasted three nights, ministers carried the second reading of their Bill by a majority of nine, and Parliament adjourned almost immediately afterwards, as the Duke had foretold that it would do. It would not be easy to describe the effect of this decision, both upon political parties in Parliament, and upon the great commu- nity out of doors. Reformers, particularly those of the unions and of the press, seemed at a loss how to give utterance to their joy. They gloried apparently as much over the humiliation of the House of Lords, as over the success of their own measure ; and demanded that danger in committee should be guarded against by a large and immediate creation of peers. Lord Grrey, on the other hand, took his triumph meekly. He felt, indeed, that his diffi- culties were but beginning, for determined as he was to pass his Bill in its integrity, the prospect of destroying the independence of one branch of the legislature was to him not agreeable. As to the Duke, he spoke and acted as he would have done had a great battle been lost in the field ; he did his best to gather the wreck of his army together, and looked about for a new position on which to dispute with the enemy the approaches to the capital. While others in despair seemed disposed to withdraw from the struggle, he animated and cheered all whom he could reach to persevere. At the same time he declined having any further communication with Lords Wharncliffe and Harrowby. He was quite willing to accept their support of such changes in the Bill as he and his friends might endeavour to effect in committee ; but he would neither adinit these noble lords to his councils beforehand, nor in any way, directly or indirectly, sanction the negotiations into which he was informed that they had again entered with Lord Grrey. His principal correspondents seem to have been, as was natural. Lord liyndhurst. Lord Bathurst, with other members of both Houses in whom he could fully trust ; and one great point which he never failed to press upon them, was caution. Anything like a premature disclosure of their plans would inevitably lead to their defeat ; as the Grovernment would have been defeated on the first reading of the original Bill, had they exercised less prudence in hiding it. With men like Lord Lyndhurst, the Duke had no dif- ficulty in dealing ; but there were others more confident in their 183?. THE DUXE PREPARES FOR CHANGE. 515 own powers of persuasion, whom he did not find it so easy to con- trol. One gentleman in particular, Mr. John Wilson Croker, whose pen was as active and able as his tongue had of late been eloquent, insisted on being allowed to print and circulate among the waverers certain propositions of change, and was scarcely re- strained from doing so. On the whole, however, the secrets of the party were well kept ; which is the more to be wondered at, that a large measure of confidence was of necessity extended to a large number of persons ; and that of these several neither filled, nor could ever expect to fill, any office of trust or responsibility in the state. We gather from the correspondence which now lies before us, that accepting the principle of parliamentary reform as settled, the Duke's sole object, at the present stage in affairs, was to render the change of system which had become inevitable as safe, and therefore as gradual, as possible. He did not profess to regard the ministerial measure, however modified or altered, otherwise than with detestation. He could not see how the country was to be governed under such a system, amend it as they might. But being cionvinced that no other proposition would be listened to, the next best thing, in his opinion, was to form out of the minis- terial scheme something as little removed as could be from that to which the country was already accustomed. With this object in view, he dwelt strongly upon three points : — first, that they should get rid of Schedule B altogether, so that no borough might return only one member; next, that they should refuse the proposed addition to the metropolitan members : and lastly, that they should prevent voters for boroughs from voting for counties also. He was further of opinion that counties should not be divided ; but that each, as a general rule, should return two members, as it had hitherto done, and that Schedule A, since it could not be ex- punged, should at all events be mitigated so as to afford openings for the representation of the colonies in the imperial Parliament. As to keeping knots of rotten boroughs in the hands of individual proprietors, the Duke was not prepared to fight such a battle as that ; which would have been quite opposed to all his previous notions, as well as to his practice through life. He did not pre- tend to believe, that such a modification of the ministerial measure would maintain, as the old system had done, the monarchy and the great institutions of the country above the reach of assault. But he was confident that were it adopted, change would occur more slowly ; and next to the assurance of safety, such as the old Constitution afforded, he valued the power, by the arrangements of the new, of keeping danger, as long as possible, at a distance. 516 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1832. In pursuance of this plan, the Duke drew up with his own hand a new edition of the Eeform Bill, which he submitted to the con- sideration of those among the opposition lords in whose judgment he reposed the greatest confidence. He wrote at the same time to a few friends in the country, telling them what had been done, and adding, that a meeting was to take place in the course of the week, in order to settle the plan of campaign in the committee. The following letters will better explain, than any narrative of ours, the channel in which his thoughts ran at the moment : — " Ash, near Wingham, 1st May, 1832. " My dear Lord Duke, " I have read your Grace's letter with profound sorrow, because its tone con-esjjonds but too well Avith 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 emi- nently mischievous. The Conservative 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. You 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 integi'ity, 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 measiu-e go through the third reading as it stands, and so to cast all the odium of its consequences on the shoulders of its authors." " London, 2nd May, 1832. " My dear , " 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 metropoHtan representation is ruin. We may, possibly we 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. We may improve the lOZ. franchise. All this would be important, if the measure is to be carried into exe- cution. " You say truly, that it will not give satisfaction. In our state of 1832. PROPOSED AMENDMENTS. 517 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 Bill. " 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." Over and above the three main points to which we have already adverted, the Conservative peers were prepared to struggle for certain alterations in detail, such as the addition, in small boroughs, to the 10/. franchise, of a three years' residence in the same house, and for the raising in larger boroughs of the qualifi- cation from 10?. to 201. or 251. In every case, however, three years' occupation of the same tenement was to be required, and a receipt produced, showing that rates and taxes had been paid ; by which means the system of registration could, it was hoped, be got rid of, as advantageous, not to the quiet and repose-loving citizen, but only to the bustling demagogue. But we need not pursue this part of our subject further. Lord Grey, though kept well in the dark as regarded the exact plan of operations which the leaders of the opposition were maturing, knew from Lord Wharnclifife and othei'S, that he was to be opposed in committee, and took steps to bring matters to just such an issue as would either defeat him utterly, and at once, or leave him perfect master of the field. On the 7th of May Parliament met, after the Easter holidays ; and on the 8th Lord Grrey moved, that the House of Lords do resolve itself into committee in order to consider, clause by clause, the Bill to which, before the recess, it had afforded a second read- ing. It seemed by the terms in which this motion was made, that Lord Grrey was desirous of conciliating the opposition ; for instead of throwing all the condemned boroughs together, as had been done in the Commons, he proposed that the case of each should be considered separately, and the fullest justice done to it. Nor was the fact unnoticed on the other side of the House ; indeed, Lord Lyndhurst expressed himself the more emboldened, in consequence, to move, that before proceeding to disfranchise any borough, the committee should come to a clear understanding in respect to the number of new places on which the right of sending members to Parliament was to be conferred. But if Lord Lyndhurst, either for this or any other reason, really calculated on carrying his point, the result proved that his calculations were baseless. Ministers resisted the amendment with all the strength which they could muster; and when, on coming to a division, they found themselves L I. 3 518 MEMOIE OF THE DUKE OP WELLINGTON. 1832. in a minority of twenty-five, they declined to go on with their measure. It is well known that Earl Grrey and the Lord Chancellor Brougham having arrived at this determination, waited upon the King, and made a formal demand for such a creation of peers as would enable them to pass their Bill unmutilated into law. The King refused to comply with a request which he regarded as tantamount to the destruction of one branch of the legislature ; whereupon the minis- ters resigned. It was an event for which the Conservative peers were not wholly unprepared, and therefore when his Majesty sent for Lord Lyndhurst to advise him, the advice wisely given was that his Majesty should put himself into the hands of the Duke of Wellington. Not much would be gained by transcribing the cor- respondence which followed. The Duke saw the strait to which his Sovereign was reduced, and resolved that no effort should be wanting on his part to set him free. He advised that a prime minister should be sought for in the House of Commons; and besought Mr. Peel to accept the post. He expressed himself willing to go as far, in the way of change, as it would be possible with safety to do ; and undertook, on his own personal responsi- bility, to maintain order in the countr3^ Mr. Peel, as we need scarcely stop to observe, refused to take any part in the new administration. Mr. Manners Sutton, the speaker of the House of Commons was, for a moment 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 Conservative member of either House as First Lord of the Treasury, 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 have arrived at a settled determination rather to humble him 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 hesi- tate. He accepted the charge of forming an administration, 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 perfect indifference. He held as nothing, both the ravings of the press and the threats of the poli- tical 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. 1832. THE CHIEFS OF THE PAKTY HOLD BACK. 519 went with him for very little. Not so the refusal of one after another of the Conservative leaders in the Lower House, to share with him the responsibilities of office. Mr. Groulburn and Mr. Herries both held back. Mr. Wynne doubted the possibility of forming a Conservative Grovermnent at alL Sir George Murray and Sir Henry Hardinge were, indeed, at the Duke's disposal, and Mr. Alexander Baring, afterwards Lord Ashburton, gave a re- luctant 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 determined to stand aloof from him. Sir Eobert Inglis, for example, could draw no line of distinction between public and private honour ; he was unable, therefore, to see how statesmen who had expressed themselves so strongly against reform, could, without a total loss of character, accept office on the condition of bringing in a Eeform Bill. Mr. Peel, though as much opposed as ever to the ministerial measure, would be no party to a fraud upon the people. He could not assist in the attempt to force a modification of the Bill upon Parliament. JNIeanwhile 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 Chancellorship 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 Eeform Bill should carry it into law, and that whatever he might do in opposition to this course, he would do reluctantly. We 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 Grovernment are suspended, they are, up to a certain point, dangerous. The Duke was not influenced by it for one moment ; and yet he received at this time some curious letters, of which the following is a specimen : — "Birmingham, IStli May, 1832. " My Lord, " I have the honour to inform your lordship, that as soon as the rumour arrived in this town of your lordshiji's appointment to be the prime minister of William the Fourth, live hundred 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 ive 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. Tiioiipson." L I. 4 520 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTOST. 183?. To the same purport, though in a different spirit, a Mr. Ander- ton wrote, on the 14th, to say that the cry in Birmingham was for a 10/. franchise ; and that, coerced by a large meeting which had taken place on the previous day, many respectable people had en- rolled their names as members of the political union, while others were petitioning for the passing of the ministerial Bill, though their own convictions and wishes were all against it. Such remonstrances as these had no effect whatever upon the Duke's deliberations. But the defection of some of his oldest par- liamentary friends, and the reluctance with which others consented to stand fast, forced upon him, in the end, the painful conviction that resistance to the stream was no longer practicable, except by recourse to measLU'es which he was the last man in the empire to recommend, or, if recommended by others, to adopt. The Grovernment had been in abeyance long enough, when, on the 15th of May, the Duke waited on the King, and informed his JNIajesty of what had passed in the House of Commons on the pre- vious 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 pub- lic confidence. He therefore advised his Majesty to recall his former ministers ; and when his Majesty, of his own accord, pro- posed to write to Earl Grey, and to prevail upon him, if he could, to forego the desire for an extension of the peerage, and to intro- duce such amendments into his Bill as might satisfy the more moderate of its opponents, the Duke offered 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 Grrey answered the King's letter immediately. He assured his sovereign that he would do what he could, though it would be impossible, after recent events, to deviate from any leading prin- ciple of the measure. A few alterations in details might be ad- mitted, but beyond that the Grovernment could not go. As to the King's request that the demand for new peers should not be re- peated, 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 awa}^ from the minister the re- motest pretext for swamping it with a large creation of new peers. At the interview which led to the re-opening of communications between the King and Earl Grrey, the Duke assured his Majesty 1832. THE DUKE WITHDRAWS HIS OPPOSITION. 521 that he would offer no further opposition to the progiess of the Bill; indeed, 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 Lyndhursfc, 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 course which he wished them to follow, while many besought him to join with them, at the last moment, in a measure which, at an earlier stage of the contest, he had condemned. To the latter proposal 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 preroga- tive, would probably 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 ex- pressed strong disapprobation of all that he had done. Having defeated the Whigs in Parliament, he ought, according to their view of the case, to have risked all, even the dangers of a dissolu- tion, rather than suffer the reins of Government to pass again into the enemy's hands. Even with such correspondents as these the Duke kept his temper, being satisfied to demonstrate to them the utter helplessness of their schemes, and the impossibility, without great danger to the public peace, of maintaining the state of sus- pense one day longer than he had maintained it. 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 we subjoin, because it places in a clear light the motives which guided him in his ma- nagement of those delicate affairs, and the view which he took of the inevitable 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 taking the thing out of the hands of the Radicals, — that is, in reality, of giving the country the benefit of some Government. Secondly, in not estimating the farther advantage of diminishing the mischief of the Reform Bill; and particularly that of the Scotch Bill. " In my opinion the advantage first mentioned more than compensates 522 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1832. for all that Avoxild have been lost by our having anythmg to say to the Reform Bill. " We shall have the Bill, in its worst form. In the meantime we have no Government. God knows whether this coimtry can have one again Avithout passing through a crisis in its affairs. " One advantage, however, has resulted from the transactions of the last week. The country perceives that the King is against what is doing." We need not pursue further the progress of affairs, which have long since become matters of history. After a brief adjournment, to afford time for the reconstruction of the 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 following 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 committee; and in due course, after being read for the thii'd 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 generosity 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 1 8th of June to visit the Mint, which he did on horseback, attended by a single groom. Some ill-disposed persons recognised him as he was returning, on Tower Hill, and he was instantly surrounded by a crowd, which grew more dense and more furious as he proceeded westward. The Duke's countenance underwent 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 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 be- hind. 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 Lincoln's Inn, to the 1832. NAREATIVE OP LORD ST. LEONARD. ,523 chambers of the Solicitor to the Treasury, with whom he had busi- ness ; and where he had appointed the present Earl of St. Grermans, Lord Grranville Somerset, and Lord Francis Conyngham to meet him. But our readers would scarcely thank us, were we to describe what followed in other words than those of an actor in the scene. The following is Lord St. Leonard's version of this remarkable story, kindly sent in reply to a communication from the writer of these pages. " On the 18tli of June our Equity Courts were not sitting. I was, therefore, in chambers ; and as I sat working near the window on the ground-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 displeasure, I sent the clerk, with some others, round to the men's chambers, to beg them to come at once to protect the Duke. I found that the Duke, with Lord Granville Somerset and Lord Eliot (the present Eai'l of St. Germans), had been to the Tower on official business, and were then at the chambers in Stone Buildings of Mr. Maule, the Secretary to the Treasury, with Avhom the Duke had an appointment. In making my way to Mr. Maule's, I found a considerable mob in Stone Buildings and its approaches, and their con- duct was most violent. When I joined the Duke, we considered what Avas 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 downstairs, and ordered the small gate, leading to Portugal Street, to be shut and guarded, so as to prevent the jJeople from getting round that Avay 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 addressed a few words to the gentlemen, who had assisted in considerable numbers, and requested them to occupy the stone steps which the 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 upstairs, 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 straight 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 Avalk 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 Inn 524 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1832. Fields a policeman made his appearance, and draAving liis staff prepai-ed 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 trun- cheon and keep himself qiiiet 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 qiiiet. As we proceeded, the noise of the mob attracted the workmen in the shops and manufactories, particularly in Long Acre, where the iipper windows were quickly opened by workmen who, with their paper caps, rushed to join the people ; but nowhere was any personal violence offered to the Duke, and the respectable portions of the crowd would promptly have crushed any attempt at violence. I had walked from the West 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 pre- vent any one from making use of the stones. This they did ; but, scan- dalous as the conduct of the mob was, I must do them the justice to say that they showed no disposition to get at the stones. When 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 Dulie and his companions shook hands with me, and thanked me, and putting their horses into a trot reached Apsley House without 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 j^rinces of Europe, but that he had never seen such a magnificent display as at this dinner. When we consider the man and the day, the scene in the streets must have been most painful to the Drdce : 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." 1832. THE DUKES OPINIONS UNCHANGED. 525 CHAP. XXXVIII. THE DUKE AFTEE THE EEFOKM BILL. — HIS GKEAT INTLTJENCE IN THE HOUSE OF LORDS. — FALL OF EARL GRET. LORD MELBOURNE MINISTER. — HIS DISMISSAL. — SIR ROBERT PEEL'S GOVERNMENT. THE DUKE CHANCELLOR OF THE UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD. — HIS TENDERNESS OF HEART. The opinion which the Duke had so often expressed, in regard to the consequences of the ministerial measure while it was yet in progress, underwent no change after the Eeform Bill became law. He believed, and among his intimate friends never hesitated to say, that the foundations of England's greatness were 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 provision 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 diffi- culties with which he believed it to be beset. " The bill is now the law of the land," he used to say, " and as good citizens and loyal subjects we must conform 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 meanwhile, 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." Accord- ingly, he set himself at once to collect and consolidate a party, which should act together, not for the purpose of wresting office from those who held it, but with a view to keep the powers of Grovernment, as far as might be, in the King's hands, and to hinder the King's ministers from being driven too rapidly along the de- clivity on which they had placed themselves. And this, in the House of Lords, he found to be, comparatively speaking,- an easy task. His unswerving adherence to principle, during the late struggle; the temper and moderation which he exhibited on all occasions ; 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 deference and respect, such as was probably never before yielded by the peers of England to any in- 526 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1833. dividual belonging to their order. He became, so to speak, perfect master of the Upper House of Parliament. Perhaps no member of that august body ever had so many proxies entrusted to him ; none certainly 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 articula- tion indistinct ; but somehow or other he contrived always to say the riofht thing- at the right moment, and to clothe his sentiments in language which, if it could not claim to be considered artistically eloquent or even correct, was invariably forcible. The storm of unpopularity also which broke upon him during the Eeform strug- gle, soon 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 certain occasion to preside at a Pitt dinner in the Freemasons' Tavern, he was obliged to drive thither armed with loaded pistols, and 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, Grod bless him I" With all his apparent indiffer- ence to such matters, with all his real contempt for the sort of popularity, to obtain which men stoop to do mean and mischievous things, the Duke was touched by this evidence of the place which he had established for himself in the affections of the English people. " I'm getting 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 Strath fieldsaye. " What has happened ; did the peo^jle 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 opening 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 slandered 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 de- clared that had he refused to go to the King's assistance when the resignation of his Whig ministers left his Majesty surrounded by difficulties, " he would have been ashamed to show his face in the streets." The Duke was little satisfied with the domestic policy of the Government, and still less with its foreign relations. As he had disapproved of the measure of parliamentary reform, so he enter- tained no respect for corporate reform, which in due time followed. 1833. THE duke's MODERATION IN OPPOSITION. 527 He regarded it as a scheme for converting every borough-town in Grreat Britain into a normal school of political agitation, and for transferring all political influence in Ireland, from the Protestant to the Roman Catholic portion of the community. He was less averse to the plan for effecting important changes in the Irish branch of the Established Church, which Lord Grrey brought forward. When the suppression of ten bishoprics was first proposed to him, he seemed, indeed, to be greatly startled by it. But finding that the primate approved of the arrangement, he gave it his support. Nothing- could induce him, however, to consent to that clause in the Bill, which provided, under certain circumstances, for the confiscation to secular purposes of Irish benefices ; and he succeeded in throwing it out, when the Bill came into committee in the Lords. But neither in this nor in any other instance, could his opposition be characterised as the result of rancour or party prejudice. He sat in the legisla- ture not to embarrass, but as far as possible to assist the King's Grovernment ; by preventing the King's ministers from passing bad measures when they brought them forward, and supporting them in their endeavour to pass good measures. The sober-minded portion of the community out of doors understood this policy, and came in time to respect him for it. To keen partisans on both sides, in either House of Parliament, it was unintelligible, and they were unanimous in condemning it. But perhaps it was with the foreign even more than with the domestic policy of the Government that the Duke was dissatisfied. In every imaginable particular it seemed to contradict, not only his own views of abstract right, but the confession of faith which Lord Grey had put forth when first appointed to office. The Belgian revolt was taken up, as he had foretold that it would be ; and in due time a French army laid siege to Antwerp, while a combined French and English fleet blockaded the Dutch coast, and made prize of Dutch vessels. The affiiirs of Portugal were next dealt with, in a manner as repugnant to his notions of political justice, as it was hurtful in his opinion to the national honour. Instead of realising the hope which, under the Duke's administration, his Majesty had been advised to express, of a speedy renewal of friendly relations between the two states. Lord Grey's Cabinet sympathised openly with Don Pedro's daughter, and encouraged, if it did not provoke, a civil war in Portugal. Nor was this policy more distasteful to the Duke for its own sake, than because the manner in which it was followed up outraged his sense of what was due to the dignity of the British Crown. To Don Pedro's appeal for armed assistance, no attention was paid. A Britisli fleet was not sent to blockade the mouths of the Taa'us and the Douro : a 528 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1834. British army was not landed to restore the exiled queen to the throne ; but individual Englishmen were permitted, and secretly encouraged, to take service with Don Pedro, and bands of con- dottieri made war upon Portugal in the name of its constitutional Sovereign. It was in vain that the Duke protested against such a palpable infraction of the principle of non-intervention. He suc- ceeded, indeed, at last in forcing the ministers to recognise the purport of the Foreign Enlistment Act, and a proclamation was issued, forbidding Englishmen to take service with either of the belligerents. But all the world knew that a proclamation so called forth was not meant to be attended to. The enlistment, therefore, went as before ; the mercenaries took possession of Oporto, and the native forces of the King of Portugal were encountered, on shore and at sea, by free lances gathered in from all the other nations of Europe. Nor was it the least curious feature in this transaction, that Englishmen were seen in high command on both sides of the quarrel. The English admiral, Napier, fought for Donna Maria ; the English admiral, Sartorius, for Don Miguel. The former prevailed, and Don Miguel was driven from his throne. Meanwhile Spain had become the theatre of still more serious complications. Ferdinand VII. died, leaving behind him a will, which, in defiance of the Salic law, acknowledged to be binding on the Spanish princes of the house of Bourbon for more than 120 years, settled the Crown upon an infant daughter. In order to ensure the acceptance of this settlement, the queen-mother, to whom the powers of regent had been committed, gathered round her a knot of statesmen of the ultra-liberal school ; and, hating as cordially as her husband had ever done free institutions, she pro- claimed Donna Isabella and the constitution of 1812. Don Carlos, brother of the deceased monarch, protested against the arrange- ment, and claimed the throne as his own by right of succession. But his party was weak, or unprepared to act, probably because so eccentric a move had never been anticipated ; and being forced to escape out of Spain, he took refuge at the court of Don Miguel. It is no part of our duty to describe in detail the events which followed. The British Government, still professing to hold to the principle of non-intervention, threw the whole of its influence into the scale of the Queen's party, and eventually, as is well known, sanctioned the enrolment of a British legion, to fight the Queen's battles and receive the Queen's pay. Of this measure, as well as of all that preceded it, including the Quadruple Alliance with its attendant inconveniences, the Duke never spoke except with sorrow and indignation. As to King Ferdinand himself, he had but one opinion of him, which he took no pains to conceal. " I 1834. DIFFEBENCES IN THE CABINET. .-j'iO can conceive nothing more wicked," he used to say, " than the conduct of that mau. He misgoverned his country as long as he lived, and at his death bequeathed to it a legacy of civil war ; and we, forsooth, 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 interest in nations, which, Grod knows, never behaved too well to me ; but it makes my heart bleed to see Spain and Portugal given over to anarchy, when a little firmness and moderation on the part of the English Government might have prevented it." If the Duke had been capable, which he was not, of seeking for comfort in public misfortune, or in contemplating the personal humiliations and distresses of those whom he regarded as the authors of it, he might have found it abundantly in the distracted state of the Whig Cabinet from 1832 to 1834. Torn by differences of opinion among themselves, and powerless in that House of Commons which they had called into existence, the Ministers were unable to pursue any fixed line of policy, either at home or abroad. That they ever deliberately planned, or even contemplated such results from their great measure, no thinking person seriously believed, or believes. On the contrary, Lord Grrey spoke as he felt, when, in reply to some taunt about revolution, he said : " That the time was coming when they would be blamed for in- creasing, instead of diminishing, the power of the aristocracy." And it is fair to assume that in so expressing himself, he expressed at the same time the opinions of those witli whom he acted. But this only seems to prove that Lord Gfrey, and the members of his administration, failed to perceive the real tendency of their measure. Be this, however, as it may, there can be no doubt of the fact, that from the time in which their Bill received the royal assent, they found themselves continually pressed forward against their will, and continually baffled in their endeavours to resist the pressure. This was strikingly shown in the results of their Irish policy, and in the reception awarded to it by those whom it was intended to conciliate. The reductions which they had effected in the Irish Church establishment, so far from allaying agitation, appeared only to render it more fierce. Mr. O'Connell, and the leading members of the Komish hierarchy, declared war against the payment of tithes in any shape, or on any pretence whatever. The Irish Pro- testant Dissenters demanded that the confiscation clause, thrown out by the House of Lords, should be restored, and so sharp were the controversies that arose on this subject in the Cabinet itself, that Lord Stanley, Sir James Graham, tlie Duke of Richmond, and the Earl of Kipon, sent in their resignations. By and by, fresh M M 530 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1834. difficulties presented themselves, in regard to the insertion, in a new Coercion Bill, of a clause which had stood in the old Act, against meetings for political purposes in Ireland. Mr. O'Connell, not without some show of reason, complained that he had been deceived in this matter. He brought the subject before the House of Commons, and the explanations which followed proved so damaging to ministers, that Lord Althorpe refused to remain longer in office. But Lord Althorpe was, in the estimation of Earl Grrey, the main prop of the Cabinet, and the latter nobleman, having failed to persuade his colleague to withdraw his resignation, resigned also. Meanwhile, the King had become very weary of his Whig advisers. The movement party, also, impatient for further progress, ceased to repose confidence in them. For they had called into being influences which they found themselves unable to direct, and the management of the state machine passed out of their hands. Yet some good measures were either carried or put in train by them. Such would have been the Slave Emancipation Act, had it been pushed forward with greater circumspection. Such certainly were the new poor laws ; and the law for shortening the labour of infants in factories. Their Bill, renewing the East India Company's charter, was a measure of more doubtful tendency, depriving that body, as it did, of the monopoly of the tea trade, and commuting the profits of its trade with India itself for an annuity of 630,000^. The Duke of Wellington, at all events, dis- approved of it, because, in his opinion, it was neither just nor politic ; and predicting frequent wars with the Chinese Empire as the inevitable result, he left a protest against it on the records of the House of Lords. Startling as Lord Grrey's resignation seemed on the first blush to be, it produced, in point of fact, little change in the 'personnel of the administration; and with onl}^ a slight modification on the side of liberalism, none whatever in its general principles of action. There were those, indeed, who did not scruple to assert that all which led up to that climax had been arranged beforehand. For Lord Grey was no sooner out of office than Lord Althorpe quietly resumed his place at the Exchequer. Lord Melbourne removed, at the same time, from the Home Office to the Treasury; while five noblemen and gentlemen of advanced views filled up the va- cancies in the Cabinet; and the administration went on as before. The result was, that the Irish Tithe Act was again brought forward ; and an amendment moved by Mr. O'Connell, to the effect that the incumbents should receive for the future only 12s. in the pound, was carried in the House of Commons. This the Lords threw out ; but they were more compliant in their dealings with the Coercion 1834. THE KING DISMISSES HIS MINISTERS. 531 Act, which passed denuded of the clause to which Mr. O'Connell had objected. Against that omission the Duke recorded his protest, as he had done against the India Bill. But he did not consider it necessary, in either case, to fight the battle to a division, because the time was not, in his opinion, come for trjdng the strength of parties, or for profiting by victory, should it be achieved. Perhaps it would have been well had similar views been entertained in higher quarters ; but such proved not to be the case. Parliament was prorogued on the 15th of August, 1834. The Duke, according to his usual custom, withdrew into the country ; and the King retired for change of air and repose to Brighton. As to his Majesty's Ministers, some of them remained at their posts, while others went forth to be feasted in the provinces, and, with greater candour than wisdom, to speak in public one against the other. This did not tend to restore to them the confidence of that section of the people on whom they mainly depended ; and the press itself, which had formerly written them up, seemed well dis- posed to write them down. Sanguine politicians on the Tory side began to talk, in consequence, of reaction, and of a return to old principles of government in Church and State. They were much mistaken. The Ministers ceased to be popular only because they ceased to be revolutionary. It was not a return to old usages, bvit a more rapid progress in the opposite direction, that the mass of what was called the liberal party then desired. Such was the state of public feeling when the death of Earl Spencer, by removing Lord Altborpe to the House of Lords, occasioned a vacancy in the Chancellorship of the Exchequer and in the leadership of the House of Commons. Lord Melbourne waited upon the King, and proposed that Lord John Eussell should become Lord Althorpe's successor. But to his no small astonish- ment, the Sovereign informed him that he intended to ask the advice of the Duke of Wellington on that subject. We need not stop to give even an outline of his Majesty's well-known reasons for taking this step. Suffice it to state that the same night (the 14th of November), a letter was despatched to the Duke, and that on the following day he arrived at the palace to receive his Majesty's commands. The Duke, though he neither anticii^ated nor desired so sudden a summons, had felt for some time back that sooner or later it must come. He had communicated confidentially with Sir Eobert Peel upon the subject, and prepared him to accept office as Prime Minister whenever a vacancy should occur. But Sir Eobert, more cautious, perhaps a better judge than his illustrious friend of the real state of public opinion, put the project from him ; and, imme- M M 2 532 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OP WELLINGTON. 1834. diately on the prorogation of Parliament, set out with his family for Rome. A man of ordinary talent would have been at a loss how to act under such circumstances. Either he would have ac- cepted for himself the task of forming an administration, and left a prominent place in it for his absent friend ; or if, like the Duke, he conceived that, under existing circumstances, the Prime Minister ought to be in the House of Commons, he would have advised his Sovereign to leave matters as they were till Sir Eobert Peel could be recalled. The Duke adopted neither alternative. He at once, indeed, declined to form a Government of his own. He advised, and gave his reasons for advising, that Sir Robert Peel should be created First Lord of the Treasury, and left free to fill up not only the Cabinet, but all subordinate places in the administration. And when the King raised the obvious objection, that this course could not be followed with Sir Robert at a distance, he met the difficulty by proposing arrangements as bold as they were novel. Since his Majesty was bent on changing his Ministers at once, and had, indeed, announced to the head of the Cabinet his purpose of doing so, the Duke was ready to take charge of the vessel of the State, and so to manage matters that public business should suffer no interruption till a regular Grovernment could be formed. The result was, that placing the (rreat Seal in commission, Lord Lynd- hurst, the chief baron, being appointed Chief Commissioner, he himself was sworn in as First Lord of the Treasury and Secretary of State for the Home Department. Both arrangements were, and were understood to be, temporary only; indeed, the Duke, when pressed by the King to complete his Cabinet, reserving only the Premier's place for Peel, declined to do so, for "I thought nothing- could be more unfair than to call upon you (Sir Robert Peel) to put yourself at the head of the Grovernment which another indivi- dual had formed." The first step taken by the Duke, after his conference with the King, was to despatch ]Mr. Hudson in post haste to Rome, and to write by him to Sir Robert Peel, giving as full an account as time would allow of the state of public affairs, and of the part which Peel himself was expected to play in them. Other messengers followed day after day, each conveying what maybe called a report of proceedings ; and it is creditable to their intelligence, as well as to the skill of the guidance under which they acted, that almost all contrived to encounter Sir Robert, at one stage or another, on his homeward progress. Meanwhile Lord Melbourne and his col- leagues gave up their seals of office, not, as may well be believed, in the best possible humour; and on the 17th of November the Duke kissed hands. And then began, for him, such a season of 1834. THE DUKE, THE ADMINISTRATION. 533 activity as even he, busy as his life had been, never encountered before. We need scarcely stop to explain, that by the usages of this country one Secretary of State has the right of access to the cabinets and portfolios of all the rest, though, in point of fact, these high functionaries rarely interfere with the details of each other's duties. The Duke had been sworn in as Home Secretary, because to the Home Secretary it especially belongs to maintain the tranquillity of the country, and to enforce obedience to the laws. But in passing, as he daily did, from the Home to the Foreign Office, and from the Foreign Office to the Colonial, he violated no consti- tutioDal law; and he was equally in his right place, whether he sat to transact business in the Treasury, or read Indian despatches, or dictated the replies to them in Cannon Row. Nor was this all. He organised a temporary treasury board, and made every pre- paration for what he believed to be inevitable, a dissolution of Parliament and an appeal to the country. And all this with such regularity and precision that each successive day saw its tale of business complete, without leaving the slightest arrear to be dealt with on the morrow. It is said that, on more than one occasion, the Duke very much surprised the ministers from foreign courts by appointing meetings with them at eight, and even at seven o'clock in the morning. It is certain that he never knew an idle hour himself, except while he slept. He had always been remarkable for his powers of abstin- ence, often, when much engaged, going without food from break- fixst on oae day to breakfast on the day following. Even breakfast was, with him, a very brief affair, while the whole pressure of the State was upon him. Yet his spirits were excellent, his health good, and his letters to Sir Eobert Peel all breathe a tone of strong confidence in regard to the issue. His friends were in the highest state of delighted excitement, and though here and there an attempt was made to rouse the mob against him, the mob refused to stir. The truth is, that people were taken so completely by surprise, that they did not know what to say or how to act ; and that the press itself, though it censured the arrangement as uncon- stitutional, could not refuse either its meed of praise to his courage, or its joke at the ludicrous position into which the ex-government was thrown. Here and there, indeed, an ungenerous attempt was made to throw the blame of the crisis upon the (^ueen. But on the whole, England seemed satisfied with the anomalous state into which the Government had fallen; and waitedvery patiently till the moment came for bringing things back to their normal condition. jNIeanwhile Sir Robert Peel was prosecuting his homeward journey with al! speed. Hereceived the first announcement of tlio M M 3 534 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1835. King's wishes late in the evening of the 25th of November, and soon after midnight set out on his return to England. He travelled by Turin and Geneva, over roads which at that season were exe- crable ; and reaching Lyons on the night of the 3rd of December, pushed forward at once to Paris. He arrived in London early on the morning of the 9th, and the same day, about 1 1 a.m., called upon the Duke at Apsley House. They proceeded together to St. James's Palace, where they were graciously received by the King, and Sir Robert, after kissing hands, was sworn in as First Lord of the Treasury. And now the real difficulties of a Conservative administration began. It had been settled already, that any attempt to go on Avith the present House of Commons would be idle. Sir Eobert dissented from that view of the case, and perhaps he was right ; but it was too late. Probably he would have found the existing House unmanageable enough ; but even a defeat on some measure of acknowledged national importance would have been better than no contest with the existing House at all ; for the power of dissolv- ing, with which the King armed him, could have been exercised at any moment. As matters stood now, there was no alternative, except to complete the ministerial arrangements with as little delay as possible, and to dissolve. The ministerial arrangements were soon completed, and then the new Premier bethought him of some channel through which to set forth the principles of policy which he had accepted office to maintain. Had Parliament been sitting, these would have doubtless been enunciated from his place in the House of Commons. As matters stood, he embraced the oppor- tunity of the dissolution, to embody them in a letter, which he addressed to the electors of Tarn worth. It was a very forcible and clever manifesto, which appealed, and was intended to apjjeal, to moderate men, of all shades of opinion. Accepting the Eeform Bill, as "a final and irrevocable settlement of a great constitu- tional question," the writer denounced the notion, that, " by adopting the spirit of that Bill, we are to live in a perpetual vortex of agitation ; " or that " public men can only support themselves in public estimation by adopting every popular impres- sion of the day ; by promising the instant remedy of anything, which anybody may call an abuse, and by abandoning altogether that great end of government, more powerful than either law or reason, the respect for ancient rights, and the deference for prescrip- tive authority." Resting upon these principles, he professed him- self ready to deal, in a spirit of perfect fairness, with every question which might come before him ; with corporation reform ; with church rates ; with the claims of dissenters to be admitted to 1835. SIR ROBERT PEEL'S MANIFESTO. 533 degrees in the universities ; and with Church reform, both in England and Ireland. On one point alone he gave notice that his mind was made up. He would never consent to alienate the pro- perty of the Church, upon any pretext, or under any circumstances, from the Church itself ; though he was perfectly ready to consider, upon its own merits, the question of redistribution. This letter or manifesto was upon the whole Avell received, and Sir Eobert followed it up by making overtures to Lord Stanley and Sir James Grraham ; which, however, they declined to entertain. He then went to the country, and his appeal was responded to, so far, that the combined return from England and Scotland gave him a majority. Ireland, however, was in the hands of Mr. O'Connell, whom the ex-ministers hastened to conciliate, and who agreed to support them on his own terms. The consequence was that when the Houses met, ministers sustained a defeat in the choice of a Speaker, and that having fought from the outset what they felt to be a losing battle, in the end they lost it. The part assigned to the Duke of Wellington in the new ad- ministration was that of Foreign Secretary. It was an arrangement which could not fail to be agreeable to all the old allies of England, and to which the new, including Louis Philippe in that category, had no just reason to object. But it was viewed with real or pre- tended distrust by the Opposition, which, after assailing the Duke on account of his late monopoly of power, — a move which neither added to their strength, nor raised them in public estimation, — began, both in Parliament and out of it, to deprecate any change in the relations of England with foreign states. There was not so much as the shadow of an excuse for the insinuations thus thrown out. The Duke regulated his public conduct then, as he always did, by what he felt to be the requirements of public duty. He found Ensfland committed to certain treaties, and he adhered to them. However little he might have been inclined to enter into these engagements when first proposed, he never for a moment thought of breaking through them now that they were completed. Even the Quadruple Alliance, much as he disapproved both of its object and of the means employed to secure it, he felt himself bound to main- tain, and he maintained it rigidly. The history of Sir Eobert Peel's Grovernment in 1835 is well known. It administered the affairs of the country just long- enough to give evidence of what might have been expected from it, had not its days been cut short. Sir Eobert brought in bills for the commutation of tithes in England, for a redistribution of the English dioceses, for the equalisation of the episcopal incomes, and for the application to the increase of small benefices of the re- M r-i 4 536 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1835, venues arising out of certain church dignities, which he proposed either to cut down or wholly to suppress. It is but fair to all con- cerned, if we stop to observe, that this measure of Church reform was not, in the whole of its details, cordially approved by the Duke of Wellington. He could not, indeed, object, nor did he object, to the principle of an arrangement recommended by a com- mission, to the appointment of which he had himself been a party, and of which the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Bishop of London, and other prelates were members. But he would have bean better pleased with its details, had arrangements been made for connecting the claims of particular localities for relief with the sources whence relief was to come ; and for managing the funds of the suppressed canonries by a machinery less expensive and com- plicated than that which the Bill called into existence. The Duke's rule of life, however, as a public man, had always been fidelity to the Cabinet of which he was a member ; and on the present, as on other occasions, he surrendered his own opinion, and acted cordially with the head of the administration. In all these particulars, and in many more, the new Ministry carried public opinion along with it, and could afford to bear, not only its defeat in the choice of a Speaker, but the adverse de- cision at which the House of Commons arrived, on the subject of an address in reply to the King's speech. Beyond this, how- ever. Sir Robert Peel conceived that he would not be justified in venturing. Probably he was right. The King's minister in 1835 did not stand towards the people in the same relation in which the King's minister stood half a century before. Mr. Pitt took the lead in a House of Commons which was quite as hostile to him then, as the present House was to Sir Robert Peel ; and by patient and resolute endurance he overcame its hostility. But Mr. Pitt had, what Sir Robert had not, the power of a dissolution in his hands, and a constituency to fall back upon which was neither fresh from the excitement of a recent triumph, nor prejudiced against the statesmen over whom the triumph had been achieved. When, therefore, on the 30th of March, Lord John Russell moved, " That the House do resolve itself into a committee of the whole House, to consider the temporalities of the Church of Ireland, with a view of applying any surplus not required for the spiritual care of its members, to the general education of all classes of the people, with- out distinction of religious persuasion," Sir Robert saw that he was about to fight, not for victory only, but for existence. A debate ensued, which was conducted on both sides with great ability, if not always with temper. But the Opi^osition proved too strong. At four in the moi'ning of the 7th of Ajiril, Lord John's motion was ]835. TliE DUKE CHANCELLOR OF OXFORD UNIVERSITY. 537 carried by a majority of 33, and on the following day the Ministers sent in their resignation. From that moment down to the day of his death, the Duke of Wellington never again took charge of any of the great civil departments of the State. A politician he continued to be, — it was impossible that he should cease to be a politician to the last — but his line was henceforth that, rather of a guide and counsellor to the nation at large, than of the busy leader of a party strugglino- for power. There never occurred a difficulty 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 mis- takes of its servants, or through disagreements, personal or other- wise in the Cabinet, 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. One of the first and most remarkable proofs of the universal 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 offer to the Duke of Wellington the vacant Chancellorship. The Duke had no claim to this distinction on the ground of scholarship, or even of patronage extended to scholars. He was totally unconnected with the university itself, except so far as that, simultaneously with Marshal Blucher, 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 knew 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 expected, the leaders of the opposition and their organs of the press, endea- voured to throw ridicule upon the whole proceeding. Among others, a distinguished but eccentric L'ish prelate waited officially upon the Lord-lieutenant, and begged that he might be appointed to a troop of dragoons ; and when asked to give a reason for so curious a request, replied : " Your Excellency must know that I have as good a right to be made a caj^tain of cavalry, as the Duke of Wellington, your brother, has to become Chancellor of the Uni- versity of Oxford." Oxford, however, had made up her mind what to do, and went gallantly through with her purpose. The installa- tion, which took place on the 9th of June, 1834, was one of the most brilliant affairs that had ever been witnessed ; and the enthu- 538 MEMOm OP THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1836. siasm of tlie 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-graduatea were very boisterous, were they ? " "Boisterous ! You never saw any thing- like it in your life ! Let these boys loose in the state in which I saw them, and give them apolitical object to carry, and they would revolutionise 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 energies to the public service, in some degree unfitted him for the quiet enjoyment of domestic life. Per- haps, 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 domestic circle than within it ; and for this reason, even when not abused, it scarcely filled up the measure of his aspirations. In moments of despondency, of which the crowd saw nothing, he has been heard to say, " There is nothing 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 affections was given. From his mother, as we have elsewhere explained, he experienced in youth and early manhood little else than neglect. As he grew into fame, pride with her expanded into affection ; and when she died at the ad- vanced 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 doated 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 indefatigable in his attentions to her ; and when she ceased to breathe, he evinced great emotion. She was buried at Strathfieldsaye, the Duke following her to the grave, and showing every mark of respect to her memory. 1837. DEATH OF WILLIAM IV. 539 CHAP. XXXIX. DEATH OF AVILLIAM IV. — ACCESSION OP QUEEN VICTORIA. — THE DUKE IN AND OUT OF PARLIAMENT. — THE DUKE'S GREAT AFFECTION FOR HER MAJESTY. — HIS PROCEEDINGS AS COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF. — THE CORN -LAW QUESTION. 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 effected, either in the state of ]3olitical parties in Parlia- ment, 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 characterised his proceedings since the Eeform Bill passed into law characterised 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 well- 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 on the one hand, and the zeal and activity in criticising its policy among opposition statesmen on the other. The Duke's public duties, apart from those of a peer of Parlia- ment, were at this time such as devolved upon him from his con- nection 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 University 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 without previous consulta- tion with those whose knoAvledge of the subject could not fail to 540 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1837. be more extensive than liis own, and that before making up his mind to any course of proceeding, he heard, and carefully con- sidered, every thing that could be said, as well against as for it. Hence, after checking rejieated attempts to innovate upon the rights both of the University and of particular colleges, he as- sented 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 them- selves 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 pre- siding over its deliberations ; and often, if the occasion seemed to require, he would travel from London, and even from Strathfield- saye to Dover, on purpose to take part in them. For 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 strict discipline. He was, as is well known, the last of those functionaries permitted to exercise powers which 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 effected 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 disposing by sale of warder's places, whilst all 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 under 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 Grurwood held a 1838. THE duke's EELATIONS WITH THE QUEEN. 541 staff-appointment at Portsmouth ; and it arose out of a previous publication — a collected edition of the Duke's Generai 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 lieu- tenancy of the Tower, which, with the honorary dignity of squire to his patron, Gurwood held to the day of his death. Equally assiduous in his habits as Lord-lieutenant of Hamp- shire, 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 was addicted, lay that which seems to have been the grand principle 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 marks of respect which his loyalty would have induced him to pay to the Sovereign, had she been personally present. Of the relation 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 intimate 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 re- mained, moreover, under every change of circumstances, on the best terms, personally, with her constitutional advisers. The con- sequence was that Lord Melbourne, appreciating aright the perfect integrity of his character, expressed neither jealousy nor surprise when his royal mistress desired from time to time to have the benefit of the Duke's opinion ; and took in excellent part the avowal, that her Majesty considered 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 affections of the English people, who, though like the natives of other free states, they are not always under the guidance of 542 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1838. judgment and moderation, seldom prove permanently ungi-ateful 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 ambassadors 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 Dalmatia. 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 marked 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 which coupled their names together, the Duke alluded to Soult in language which seemed to stir every generous feeling in the French 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 ? You, 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 living 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, compro- mised 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 G-overnment in conniving at the growth of Mr. O'Connell's influence in Ireland, and denounced its truck- 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 still, according to his view of such matters, unsatisfactory; 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 premature divisions; and lost no opportunity of urging his sup- porters in the House of Lords to bide their time. That, however. 1839. PEBL FAILS TO FORM A MINISTRY. 643 which the leaders of the Opposition would have willingly deferred, the Ministers themselves at length precipitated. Lord Melbourne unable to cope with the question 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 instinctively 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 summons, and recommended that she should take counsel with Sir Eobert Peel. From 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 household came to be touched misunderstandings forthwith arose. We need not ero farther 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 repre- sented to her as an unprecedented outrage on her personal dignity, Sir Eobert Peel felt that his commission was at an end. The re- sult was, that after an interregnum of less than a week. Lord Mel- bourne returned to office, and that for two years more the affairs of the country were conducted as they had previously been. The part played by the Duke in these transactions was neces- sarily a subordinate one. That he approved every step taken by Sir Eobert Peel is beyond dispute. It is equally certain that he believed the Queen's confiding nature to have been imposed upon, and his own and Sir Eobert Peel's intentions in the matter mis- represented ; yet he would have held his peace on both subjects, even in the House of Lords, had not Lord Melbourne, in a speech explanatory of his own conduct, compelled him to break silence. The Duke then showed that Sir Eobert Peel had taken no single step, except with his and Lord Lyndhurst's concurrence. After which he proceeded to say, " I confess that it appeared to me im- possible that any set of men should take charge of her Majesty's Government, without having the usual influence and control over the royal household ; that influence and control which their immediate predecessors had exercised before them. As the royal household was formed by their immediate predecessors in 54'4 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON". 1841. office, the possession of that influence and that control over it appeared to me to be especially necessary to let the public see that the Ministers who were about to enter upon office, possessed the entire confidence of her Majesty." He then alluded shortly, but sharply, to the interference by a former Whig Government with the household of the Queen Consort ; and after expressing himself in terms at once delicate and affectionate towards the Sovereign, concluded in these words : — " My lords, I cannot but think, that the principles on which we pro- posed to act with respect to the ladies of the bed-chamber, in the case of a queen regnant, were the correct principles. The public will not believe that the Queen holds no political conversation with those ladies, and that political influence is not exercised by them, particularly considering who those persons are who, hold such situations.* I believe the history of this country affords numberless instances in which secret and improper influ- ence has been exercised by means of such conversations. I have, my lords, a somewhat strong opinion on this subject. 1 have unworthily filled the ofiice which the noble viscount now so worthily holds, and I must say that I have felt the inconvenience of anomalous infliience, not exer- cised, perhaps, by ladies, but an anomalous influence undoubtedly of this description, and exerted simply in conversations ; and I will teU the noble viscount, that the country is at this moment suffering some inconvenience from the exercise of that very secret influence. My lords, I believe I have gone further into principles upon this subject than may, perhaps, suit the taste of the noble viscount, but this I must say, that at the same time we claimed the control of the royal household, and would not have proposed to her INIajesty to make any arrangements which would have been disagreeable to her, I felt it was absolutely impossible for me, under the circumstances of the present moment, to undertake any share in the government of the country without that proof of her Majesty's con- fidence.'^ So ended an affair which was certainly not brought on by any effort on the part of the Duke or of Sir Eobert Peel. Lord Mel- bourne's administration resumed its place, and retained it till the summer of 1841. It had lost, however, the confidence not only of the House of Commons but of the nation, and it managed from year to year to exhibit a growing increase of the expenditure over the revenues of the country. In divisions likewise, its majorities, which had never been large, became continually smaller, till in the end, on a direct vote of want of confidence, it was left in a minority. There remained now only the alternative between resignation and a dissolution, and the latter being preferred, it * Two of the ladies, the only two, indeed, whom tlie Duke and Sir Eobert Peel were anxious to remove, happened to be near relatives of two of the ministers whom they were about to supersede. 1842. THE DUKE COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF BY TATENT. 545 resulted in a failure. Whea tlie new Parliament met on the 19th of August, an amendment was moved to the address in both Houses, which the Opposition carried in the Lords by 168 to 96 votes; in the Commons by 360 to 269. Then followed, as a matter of course, the retirement of Lord Melbourne and his colleagues, and the assumption of office by Sir Eobert Peel, with full powers to dis- pense the patronage of the Crown, whether in the household or elsewhere, as might appear to him best suited to promote the public service. Though he accepted a seat in the new Cabinet, the Duke of Wellington declined to take charge of any special department of the State. It was an arrangement dictated entirely by the prin- ciple of self-abnegation, which was stronger, perhaps, in the Duke of Wellington than in any public man of his age ; and though it placed him, under a constitutional Government, in a somewhat anomalous position, it had its advantages too, of which the public was not slow in becoming sensible. It left him full leisure to discuss every question, both of home and foreign policy, without imposing upon him the labour of attending to the details of ad- ministration ; while it placed him towards both the people and the Crown, in the position of an independent and therefore unpreju- diced adviser. No great while elapsed, however, ere the anomaly, if such it deserved to be called, passed away. In 1842 Lord Hill 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 office was made out in his favour and jaresented 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 many 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 con- stituted, by patent under the Grreat 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 probably no in- terval in his public career with respect to which so much mis- understanding prevails, it appears to us that we cannot do better than give here a brief and connected view of his habits of acting and thinking ; and of the estimation in which, as a man of business, he was held by those who had the readiest opportunities of eon- N N 546 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OP WELLINGTON". 1843. versing with him on professional subjects, and were best qualified to form a judgment as to his manner of dealing with them. It was the Duke's custom, when no special business pressed, to arrive at the Horse Gruards about one o'clock in the day ; and during the sitting of Parliament to remain there, till his presence was required in the House of Lords. His attendance in the Lords was, as we need scarcely observe, very punctual, and he almost always arrived in time for prayers, or soon after. When Parlia- ment 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 that he was come ; and they all waited upon 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 happened 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 occasion Avith my box flill of papers, when lie turned to me, and asking what I had, observed rather angrily that he had already had thirteen boxes referred to him that morning, before he left Apsley House." The same correspondent observes, " Speaking from the experience which I had of him, I should 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 all good men of business, who consider well before coming to a decision, his Grace was accustomed to adhere strictly to pre- cedent ; to the decisions he may have previously come to on similar cases. This practice greatly facilitated the task of those who had to transact business with him, seeing that all we had to do in concluding our state- * Private letter from General Sir George Brown. G. C. B. 1844. THE DUXE AT THE HORSE GUARDS. 547 iiient of any particular case, was to refer to his decision on some similar one. " During tlie latter years of his life, the Duke had a great objection to Avaste 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 2)recis ; in Avhich, 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 yoxu- 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 opposite side of the page, for the most part laconically, but sometimes in great detail. These memoranda of his never failed to exhibit that thorough acquaintance with the details of the military service, for which he Avas remarkable. And if, at any time, he happened to be at fault, or that recent changes had occurred, modifying regimental matters since he was intimately associated with them, the cir- cumstance had only to be pointed out. He would listen with the gi-eatest patience to such explanations, and never made the slightest difficulty in modify-ing his memoranda so as to meet them." Although the Duke did not always read the correspondence in the cases laid before him, be 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 difficult}' or delay. It is scarcely necessary to observe, that all orders for the move- ment of troops, for the assembling- of general courts-martial, &c., &c., as well as leaves of absence to officers, and permission to give 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 Duke by referring to him. But the applications of general and commanding officers were always sub- mitted. On such occasions, 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 effected 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 otlier N N 2 548 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTOJS", 1844. Lead of the Government, within the memory of man. In the next place, he retained to the last a persuasion that the less the army, in its expenditure and general management, is brought into public notice, the better. *' Depend upon it, gentlemen," (a common ex- pression of his when he was in earnest) " that the greatest enemies the army has in this country, are those v^^ho would add unneces- sarily to its expense." It was during his administration of affairs at the Horse Guards 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 formidable thing of its kind in Europe ; and that he was accustomed to quote the authority of Marshal Marmont in corroboration of that sentiment. But so far was he from express- ing 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." Accord- ingly it was with his express sanction and approval, that the Minie musket was introduced ; and the manufacture of 28,000, under- taken by Lord Anglesey, who was then Master-General of the Ordnance. The one point to which the Duke adhered was, that ihe 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 w^ars ; 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 width 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 narrower calibre than the Minie, was introduced when Lord Hardinge presided at the Ordnance Office, and came, ultimately, to supersede the Minie. The first specimens of the Minie musket made use of were put into the hands of detachments from Chatham and other places, which assembled at Woolwich for jDractice, under Captain BroAvn- 1844. THE MtNlf: MUSKET TRIED. 549 rigg, of the Grenadier Guards. Anxious about the matter, and desirous himself of witnessing the operation, the Duke arranged with Sir George Brown, the Adjutant-General, that they should proceed to Woolwich together ; Lord Charles Wellesley, the Duke's younger son, bearing them company. "There were about 100 men," says General Brown, " extended in a line of skirmishers 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 skirmishers. 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 alongthe whole line, watch- ing each man as he loaded his musket ; and having satisfied himself that there was no difficulty, at once recommended that the manu- facture of the arms should be proceeded with. As soon as a por- tion of them was prepared and distributed to the troops, it became necessary to issue some instructions in regard to the mode of load- ing and using them. I accordingly drew up a short paper of in- structions, 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 that ' we must not allow them to fancy they are all riflemen, or they will become 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 jealously than any infringement on the national uniform, nor anything more important to maintain, than the solidity and steadi- ness 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. Sir George Brown has kindly communicated to us the following 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. Eeturning on one occasion from the inspection at Canter- bury of the 97th Regiment, which had recently landed from North America, I informed his Grace 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 con- cluded by stating, that they had adopted no newfangled notions, either in their dress or appointments, and that, on the whole, the 550 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OP WELLINGTON. 1844. regiment presented the Lest 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.' " When he was at Walmer, in the winter, I always apprised 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 Grrace to say a compli- mentary word or two to the commanding officer, which he always willingly did. On one occasion, at Walmer, when the depots of two regiments were there, and had been formed into one small battalion under the senior officer, the Duke, after he had performed 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 our correspondent, " be very generally known, that one individual has no means of adjusting himself exactly on an alignment between two distant points ; and that it can only be accomplished by two or more mutually dressing each other on the points respectively. 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 work 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 Marmont's cavalry at El Bodon. 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, we beat off all the French 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, without 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 Gruards on foot or on horseback. If on horse- back, he usually rode tbrongh the Park, if on foot he came by the 1844. AEMY EDUCATION. 55 1 streets, and always alone. Everybody knew him ; and everybody, high and low, rich and poor, saluted him as he passed. He never tailed to acknowledge these marks of respect in his own peculiar way, l)y touching his hat Avith the two first fingers of the right hand, which he held upright, the palm of the hand itself beino- turned to the front. The Duke's punctuality in keeping engage- ments is well known. It is not, perhaps, so generally understood, 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, by the way, which is now one of the relics in Apsley House, he had worn throughout the Peninsular war, and never afterwards laid aside. It was a gold repeater, with hands so arranged that by bringing his fingers round upon them, the Duke could tell in the dark what o'clock it was to a minute. The Duke was no great jDromoter of high education among the working classes, and could 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 interference 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 com- mander-in chief. But when the subject was fairly taken up, he never set himself against it ; but on the contrary declared, that, as far as his influence could go, it should have fair play. ' Even in regard to the compulsory attendance of recruits at school, he de- clined to act upon the suggestions 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 attendance in school for a couple of hours daily, seems to tax his powers of application too far. But having accepted the proposi- tion as made to him by the Secretary at War, nothing could induce him to go back from it. Indeed, it was a matter of principle with the Duke never, as Commander-in-chief, to place himself in an attitude of antagonism to any department of the Queen's Gfovern- ment ; but, on the contrary, to afford 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 examina- tion 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 pu})1icly agitated, he found opportunities over and over again N N 4 552 MEMOIE OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1844. to state, that a young gentleman intended for the military service of this country should receive the best education which the country could afford ; that looking to the duties which he might be called upon to discharge, such education ought not to be too professional; and that it was nowhere to be procured of a higher or more prac- tical 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 of the laws of the land." The Duke's predilection in favour of military academies, 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 continental 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 gentle- men who came to me from High Wickham to be pretty much of that stamp. Indeed, 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 principles of regimental handling to the handling of large bodies. I don't mean to say that officers of engineers and of artillery can do with- out 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 permanently organising the army, on the home establishment, into divisions and brigades. We are, therefore, unable to say how far he would or would not have approved of the arrangement. But looking to the strong opiaions which he entertained against increasing the expense of our military establishments, and even against bringing the army prominently into public view, it seems to us probable that the plan would not have secured his hearty approval. Even camps of instruction 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 chanfjes which have been effected since his death. Never 1841. THE DUKE TATIENT OF MISTAKES. 553 Laving himself experienced the slightest inconvenience in his inter- course "vvith the War Office, as it used to be, or with the Board of Ordnance, he was entirely opposed to the principle of amalgama- tion 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 constitution 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 opinon was that of every man who has 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 of the involuntary errors of those under him, or more anxious to keep them right if they were inadvertently going wrong. The perverse blunderings of wrong-headed officials, on the other hand, provoked him exceedingly. The following anecdotes will better illustrate these facts than any statements of ours. A young officer of a distinguished regiment once brought his soldier servant to a court-martial, on charges, — we believe, of theft — which he failed to establish. The commanding 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 send him to Coventry. This coming to the knowledge of the young man's father, he complained through the Adjutant-General to the Duke, and the Adjutant-Greneral being desired to investigate the case, found that the ground assumed by the offended commanding officer was quite untenable. 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, how- ever, was of no avail. The colonel would not be convinced ; and at last said, that if the officer were allowed to remain in the regiment he must quit it. 554 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1844. 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." We wish that it were in our 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 him, passed away. Our next anecdote is somewhat different, both in its details and in its moral. There were two noble lords then in the army, a marquess and an earl, both cavalry officers, though the marquess is now dead ; who managed to be in constant hot water with somebody or another, and gave, in consequence, a great deal of trouble at the Horse Gruards. It happened that on a particular occasion the Adjutant- Greneral 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 corre- spondence spread out before him. This was at Walmer, where, more perhaps than anywhere else, the Duke disliked to be worried with disputes and misunderstandings on points of discipline among officers ; which, indeed, he declared never could take place, if officers would only study and make themselves acquainted with the regula- tions and established practice of the service. Looking up, evidently out of humour, the Duke asked what the Adjutant-Greneral 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 down 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 them- selves ; there is no end to their complaints and remonstrances." It turned out that the papers which the Duk^ had before him comprised a correspondence which had been forwarded to him by post between Lord L and the Military Secretary, in conse- quence 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 interrupted when engaged in business which he wished to transact when alone. All who Avere acquainted with his habits, whether at the Horse 1844. THE DUKE CONSIDERATE OF THE SOLDIER. 555 Gruards or elsewhere, did their best on such occasions to prevent his privacy from being broken in upon. With reasonable men they succeeded ; with others they failed. General Brown has given us 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 Grrace was at that moment writing a Spanish note to Marshal Narvaez, who happened then to be in London." Of course General Brown followed Lord Eaglan's advice. Not so a gallant ofhcer of higher rank, who, either on that or some other day, desired, at an equally inconvenient moment, to have an interview with the Commander-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. We need not stop to particularise 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 that the Duke cared little for the comforts of the soldier in barracks, or his rational and healthy recreations when off 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 was introduced. Till he became Commander-in-chief each bed in a barrack room 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 ; besides which, from the bed next to it, a certain space was ordered to be kept clear. He was at the head of the army also when ball-courts were established, and cricket-grounds prepared at large military stations. To every suggestion that was offered for improving ventilation, as well as for affording facilities to improved cooking, and the means of cleanliness in the men's rooms, he gave prompt and favourable attention. He believed, indeed, that in this, as iu other matters, ideas in themselves good might be carried too far ; and that there was some danger both of overtaxing the liberality of Parliament and of spoiling the soldier, by first creating for him, and then supplying, wants v/hich before enlistment he had never felt. But this did not hinder him from going as far as he believed to be 656 MEMOIK OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1844. right in 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 what is called a respectable position in life. He still looked to want of other em- ployment, and to idle habits, as the readiest sources of recruit- ment. And so believing, he was reluctant to part with the power of maintaining discipline through the dread of corporal punish- ment. 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 Years' Enlistment Act was brought forward, and proposals were made for granting to non-commissioned officers and privates rewards for good conduct*, 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 towiirds establishing a right to a pension. For, as he arrived at the conclusion that a good soldier would always re-enlist, so he held that the efficiency of an army depends quite as much upon the experience and soldierly habits of the men as upon the talents of the officers. And he illustrated his case by referring 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 Seikh 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 manner in which he employed them. Eecollect, too, how much they are prized by every Power all over the world ; and then, I will once more entreat your lordships never to consent to any measure which would deprive 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 often as the opportunity was afforded of speaking of the services of the army in the presence of an enemy. It was he who, when, at a critical moment, the Court of Directors recalled Lord Ellenborough, * For tins measure, as -well as for many others calculated to improve its discipline and add to its respectability, the army is indebted to the late Lord Herbert. To bim belongs the merit of having devised and put into shape an'angements for which others obtained credit, because they happened to introduce them into Par- liament. His loss to the army and to the public service can never be sufficiently deplored. 1845. THE DUKE AND SIE CHARLES NAPIER. 557 sent out Sir Henry Hardinge to succeed him as Grovernor-general ; and who, by and by, after the affair of Chillienwallah, forced the late Sir Charles Napier upon the reluctant authorities in Leaden- hall Street. Indeed, he did more ; for when Sir Charles, naturally disinclined to serve under a body of men by whom he conceived that he had been ungenerously treated, refused to go out, the Duke overcame his scruples by observing : " Then I must go myself." The result proved that for this demand upon Napier's self-control there was no real occasion. Lord Gough had won the battle of Grujerat, and reduced the Seikhs to submission, before Sir Charles quitted England. But not the less flattering to Napier, nor the less illustrative of his own high sense of duty, were the terms in which the victor of Waterloo pressed military command upon an officer of whose talents he entertained an exalted opinion. Not that the Duke, with all his admiration of Napier, regarded him as uniformly judicious, either in the manner in which he acted, or the terms in which he expressed himself. In the difference between the conqueror of Scinde and the Marquess of Dalhousie, the Duke decided in favour of the latter ; and Sir Charles's famous order against gaming in India was thus ludicrously criticised. The Dulce's attention having been drawn to it one day in terms of com- mendation, he looked at the speaker, and, leaning back in his chair, moved his head slowly from side to side, but said nothing. On being asked whether he was to be understood as disapproving the order, he replied : " I am of opinion with Napoleon, that we had better wash our foul linen at home." The details of Sir Eobert Peel's administration, between the years 1841 and 1846, have passed into history. They were emi- nently successful ; and towards their success the Duke, by his wisdom in the Cabinet and his influence in the House of Lords, greatly contributed. The revenue, which for a series of bygone years had steadily fallen off, soon recovered its buoyancy. The imposition of a property tax, though resisted as an innovation during a season of peace, sufficed to convert a deficiency into a surplus ; while the total repeal of duties on some articles in daily use, and a large reduction of them upon others, reconciled the mercantile classes especially to the arrangement. In Ireland likewise, where by monster meetings Mr. O'Connell had contrived rather to amuse his dupes than to frighten the authorities, a blow was struck for order. Neither looking to him for support, nor caring for his opposition, the Conservatives put the law in force against him, and he was arrested, tried, and condemned to two years' imprisonment. No rebellion followed, nor any attempt at rebellion ; and though Mr. O'Connell was subsequently discharged. 558 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1845. after his case had been heard on appeal in the House of Lords, he never again exercised the same influence either among his country- men or in the House of Commons. So far all went well. The permanent endowment of the Eoman Catholic College at Maynooth, which was effected in 1845, gave indeed some offence to the advanced Protestants of England and Scotland; while the country gentlemen of the three kingdoms looked with no great favour on the modifications which were intro- duced into the Corn Laws of 1828. But as neither class could deny that the country flourished under these changes; that both its internal condition and the state of its relations with foreign Powers, were satisfactory ; they refrained from offering any factious oppo- sition to the minister. There were, however, difficulties in the minister's way, which he found himself unable either to evade or to surmount ; and amid which he made shipwreck in the end, not of his own administration only, but of the great country and Conservative party which had lifted him into power. For some years past there had prevailed among the mercantile and manufacturing classes a growing impatience under laws which, according to their view of the case, aimed at no higher object than to keep up the rent of land for the sake of its o'wners, by en- hancing the price of human food in the market. From writing and talking about the grievance, men of energy and talent began to act, and the Corn-law League, originating in Manchester, soon established its branches in every large town and district in the kingdom. By and by that terrible disease broke out, which year by year destroyed the potato crops, just as they were arriving at maturity; and reduced Ireland, the inhabitants of which de- pended mainly on the potato for subsistence, to the extremity of famine. It was an event which furnished the advocates of free trade in corn with an argument which, though more plausible perhaps than solid, told with immense effect upon the public mind. It gave the Whigs also, or at least a powerful section of them, an opportunity of taking up what they felt to be a popular cry ; and the Ministers began to be pressed on every side for the removal of all restrictions on the trade in corn. How the controversy began, continued, and ended, every reader of history must be aware. "VMiile Mr. Cobden was advocating in Covent Garden Theatre the cause of unrestricted commerce to its fullest extent. Lord John Russell issued manifesto after manifesto in the House of Commons and through the newspapers, against the sliding scale as it then existed, and in favour of a fixed duty on corn imported from abroad, first of 8s., and then of 5s. a quarter. Matters had reached this point when, on the 6th of November, 1845, Sir Eobert 1845. THE DUKE ON THE COEN LAWS. 559 Peel proposed to the Cabinet that the corn then in bond should be released on the payment of Is. duty ; and that the ports should, by order in council, be thrown oj)en. He further suggested that Parliament should assemble on the 27 th, in order to pass an act of indemnity on these proceedings, and that the Government should pledge itself to take up, at an efirly period, the question of the Corn Laws, with a view to their modification. It appears from Sir Eobert's posthumous volume, that he was supported in these proposals by only three members of the Cabinet, viz. : Lord Aberdeen, Sir James Grraham, and Mr. Sidney Herbert. Whether a knowledge of what was in progress got abroad, or whether he was moved by a sense of duty to take the step, is a ques- tion with which we are not now concerned ; but on the 22nd Lord John Russell put forth another letter in the newspapers, in which he announced that the Whigs were prepared to make common cause with the League, and that the total repeal of the Corn Laws would be conceded. This was a fresh move in the game which it became necessary to meet ; and Sir Eobert met it by submitting to the consideration of his colleagues a memorandum, in which it was suggested that the Corn Laws should be suspended by order in council ; and that if it were thought inexpedient for the existing administration to repeal them, ministers should resign, and leave the repeal to be carried by others. What the opinions of the rest of the Cabinet were on these points, will be seen by all who take the trouble to consult the publication from which we are now quoting. But the Duke adopted a course peculiarly his own. He was opposed, conscientiously, both to the suspension and to the repeal of the Corn Laws. He did not see how a people who ate no wheaten bread were to be relieved by reducing the price of wheat in the market ; or in what way the cheapening of bread was to benefit those who were admitted to be destitute of all means of paying for it. He was quite willing to expend the public money in the purchase of food for the sufferers by the famine, and to put them in the way, at the public expense, of earning their own subsistence by their own industry. But a repeal of the Corn Laws, he contended, would effect neither of these objects, while it must inevitably throw the whole social system into confusion. He then went on to say, — " Here, then, comes the question which Sir Eobert Peel has not dis- cussed, — I mean the party vicAv of it. The only ground on which I think that view important, is one iTpon which he must be a better judge than any one else, — that is, Avhether he could carry on a Government for the Queen, supposing the support of the landed interest were withdrawn from him. I am afrai-d lie must reckon on its being withdrawn from him, 560 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1845. unless he should be able to show clearly the necessity for the measure in question. " In respect to my own course, my only object in public life is to sup- port Sir Robert Peel's administration of the Government and the law. '' A good Government for the country is of more importance than Corn Laws, or every other consideration ; and as long as Sir Eobert Peel pos- sesses the confidence of the Queen and of the public, and he has strength to perform his duties, his administration of the Government must be supported. " My o-\vn judgment would lead me to maintain the Corn Laws. Sir Eobert Peel may think that his position in Parliament and in the public view, requires that the course should be taken which he recommends ; and if that shoidd be the case, I earnestly recommend that the Cabinet should support him, and I for one declare that I should do so." The one ruling principle of the Duke's public life was loyalty to the throne. As a statesman, he had two great objects of appre- hension, — the aggrandisement of the French nation abroad, and the permanent establishment of a Whig administration at home. Every move in his foreign policy, while he had the power of influencing the foreign policy of the country, was directed to re- strain the former; every measure suggested or taken up in domestic affairs, was approved or condemned, in proportion as it held out the prospect of preventing the consolidation of the latter. Not that he was anxious to interfere in the internal concerns of the French people, or to hinder them from developing the immense resources of their own country ; but he could not divest his mind of the impressions Avhich their career in the early part of the century had made upon it ; and he was perpetually on the watch for tokens of a desire to renew it. Nor were his suspicions ground- less. It is no longer a secret, that for his jealousy of the expedi- tion to Algiers in 1830 there were just reasons; and that one of the motives which induced him to acknowledge as he did the dynasty of Louis Philippe, was the check thereby given to the Eussian alliance, and to the dangers to Belgium and to the Ehenish pro- vinces in Prussia which were involved in it. In like manner the views which he entertained of Whig statesmanship and its prin- ciples of action, kept him in direct and constant antagonism to the "WTiigs as a party. He could not forget the impediments which they had systematically thrown in the way of the policy of INIr. Pitt and his successors, while their very watchwords, however un- meaning, except when the party using them happens to be out of office, offended his settled convictions with respect to the preroga- tives of the Crown. Hence no sacrifice which a Conservative G-overnment could honestly make was in his opinion to be with- held, provided it had the effect of keeping power out of the hands 1845. THE GOVERNMENT IN DISCOED. 581 of ministers who were not Conservative. Stronger evidence of this fact than was afforded by his Hue of argument on the Corn-law question, it would be impossible to produce. He believed that the maintenance of these laws was essential to the support of what still remained of territorial influence in the country ; yet he was ready to sacrifice even that, greatly as he prized it, rather than see the Grovernment transferred, at a critical juncture in the history of parties, from a Conservative to a Whig administration. In spite of the Duke's sujDport, Sir Eobert Peel was still un- successful in carrying the whole of the Cabinet along with him. The time will probably come, when, examining the question from the point of view in which he then placed it, the arguments of those who resisted his proposals will be admitted to have been at least as logical as his own. Yet_. swayed in a great degree by the example of the Duke of Wellington, all except Lord Stanley, now Earl of Derby, and the Duke of Buccleugh gave way. Lord Stanley and the Duke of Buccleugh, however, w^ere men of so much mark, that Sir Robert declined to go on without them ; and ac- cordingly, on the 5th of December, he repaired to Osborne House, and there laid his resignation at the Queen's feet. We need not follow in detail the course of events, the task of describing which belongs to the historian of the nineteenth century. Lord John Eussell was called upon to form an administration. After devoting upwards of a fortnight to the task, he found that it was not to be accomplished ; and on the 20th Sir Eobert Peel resumed his place as head of the Queen's Government. He did so, however, rather to inform his colleagues of the policy which he had determined to adopt, than to consult them in regard to its expediency. All except Lord Stanley stood by him, not without a settled conviction on their minds, that in so doing they were about to make shipwreck of their own. prospects as public men, and possibly to break up for ever the great party of which, for so many years, through good report and evil, they had been the leaders. Among them all there was none who experienced the latter dread more keenly and painfully than the Duke. His own political prospects gave him no concern whatever. Li the noontide of life, he had ever been ready to postpone personal considerations to a sense of public duty. Now, the future presented little for him, either to excite ambition or the reverse. But his devotion to the Queen, his love of countr}^, and his reverence for the institutions, on the maintenance of which he believed its greatness to depend, never grew cold ; and already he was at work, striving, if it might be, to prevent a breach in the part}^, or, if that were inevitable, to pave the way to a speedy rejunction of its fragments. The O () 56-2 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OP WELLINGTON. 1846. following analysis of one, out of many letters, given as much as possible in the words of the writer, and addressed to a noble lord possessing great and deserved weight with the agricultural interest, will show what his line of argument was, and the issue to which it pointed. " On the 4th of January, 1846, just, it will be remembered, before Parlia- ment met, the Duke stated, that he had long thought of commimicating with his correspondent. Matters grew upon him, however, so thickly every day, that explanation would be impossible if much longer deferred, and even now it would not be easy to give a clear account to one, not himself an actor in the scene, of all that had occurred within the last fcAV months. The case, moreover, could be understood only by never losing sight of the different epochs at which the various events had befallen. " It was the Duke's belief that the potato disease had shown itself, and that apprehensions of the consequences were seriously entertained before his correspondent quitted Walmer Castle in the previous autumn. The Duke himself had never given way to these apprehensions, and the feehngs of the noble marquess to whom he was writing were, he believed, in unison with his own. " This, however, was not the feeling of others. In the end of October and the beginning of November, great apprehensions were entertained of the consequences of the disease ; and it was held that famine might pre- vail in Ireland within the year from that date, and that it had become necessary, without loss of time, to consider of the measures which it would be expedient to adopt. " As to himself, the Duke never doubted of the inconvenience which would be produced in Ireland by the potato disease ; not from the want of food, for there was abundance of food of other descriptions, the produce of last year's harvest, in Ireland, as well as in England and Scotland ; and in granaries, more than a year's consumption of all descriptions of grain. But the difficulty was this, that the social habits of nearly the whole of the lower class of the male i^opulation, each of whom raised for his OAvn family the provisions which it should consume, and paid the rent of the land on which the provisions should be raised by mortgaging his labour for months, and even for a year, left him, when food failed, without money, or the facihty of earning it by labour, already mortgaged, wherewith to buy food in the market, however abundant it might be. " That, therefore, which was required for Ireland was the organisation of the means to find employment for those in want of food. This, it is true, was likely to be expensive, but stiU it was practicable ; and there was nothing which apparently required any augmentation of the quantity of food in the country, excepting, 2D0ssibly, in one article, maize, which might have been substituted in some cases for potatoes. "The first determination of the Government was to wait and see what the nature and extent of the disease was ; to prorogue the Parliament till the 16th of December; and afterwards to consider of the course to be taken. 184G. THE DUKE'S LETTEE, 563 " The Cabinet accordingly met again early in December, but the alarm appeared rather to have increased. It was thovight by some that even the measures recommended to be adopted in Ireland, with a view to apply a remedy to the pecuhar local evil there existing, would occasion additional resistance to the Corn Laws ; that a reconsideration of them, at all events, would be necessary, and certain relaxation the consequence. "■ The majority of the members of the Cabinet was of a different opinion ; but the most influential, particularly in the House of Commons, felt strongly the necessity of making an alteration. " After several discussions, it was found that the adoption of a plan on which all should agree was hopeless, and full consideration of the case, in all its bearings, led to the conclusion, that the most advantageous course for the Queen's service, for her Majesty personally, and for the landed interest in general, was that the minister should inform her Majesty, that finding he could not go to the House of Commons and propose a plan, with the consent of his colleagues, he recommended to her Majesty to consider of the formation of another Ministry. This communication was made on Saturday, the 6th of December, on which day her Majesty sent for Lord John Russell ; the Ministers attended her Majesty in council on Wednesday, the 18th, and Parliament was further prorogued to the 30th of December. From that day forward, her Majesty's servants continued in office only till a new administration should be formed. "Lord John Russell saw her Majesty on Wednesday, the 10th. On Thursday, the 11th, he undertook to form an administration, and con- tinued his efforts to do so till Saturday, the 20th, on which day he resigned the commission. It is necessary to bear in mind all these dates, for they are important. " 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 Avhether they, or any of them, were pre- pared or disposed to form an administration on the principle of main- taining the Corn Laws as they are. The Duke himself, and he believed all the rest, answered that they were not so prepared ; and the Duke 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 administration on that principle. " When Lord John resigned his commission on the 20th of December, her Majesty sent for Sir Robert Peel ; who, before he went, wrote to the Duke and informed him 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 poHtics. " As soon as I heard of this determination," the letter goes on to say, " I applauded it, and declared my determination to co-operate in its exe- cution. For the question to be considered then was, not what the Corn Laws should be, but whether the Queen should have a Government ; and I felt myself boimd to stand by the Sovereign, as T had done in 1834. At 564 MEMOIE OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1846. the same time I saw that, from what had happened, the position of the Corn LaAv itself Avas very materially changed. As soon as Lord John Russell undertook to form an administration for the Queen, he became entitled to demand, and he obtained a knowledge of the cause of the dissolution of the preceding administration. He thus became acquainted with Sir Eobert Peel's opinion, and the difference between him and the majority of his Cabinet. It was impossible, under such circumstances, that Sir Eobert Peel could any longer go into the House of Commons as the defender of the existing Corn Laws. " The position was next to be considered of those members of the Cabinet Avho, previously to the 6tli and 10th of December, diifered from Sir Robert Peel. They could not but feel, that though able, perhaps, to command votes enough to support the existing Corn Law, they could not reckon on maintaining it by force of argument in debate. They must therefore look to some other system Avhich should jDrovide for the interests of the land, equally with the existing law, though differing fi-om it in the provisions which it should propose to enact. " The point which I am anxious to press, looking to what has passed, to the dates and facts stated, and to the situation in which the Government now stands, is, that the great landed proprietors, and the landed interest generally, shall pause, and consider well Avhat is proposed to them, and not separate themselves from the Government till they shall have seen and fully weighed it in all its bearings. I am the more anxious on this subject, becaiise I have observed that one of them is already loud in declaring that such a course will be like that of one Avho locks the stable door Avdien the horse is stolen. " On the other hand, if the great lauded proprietors are not disposed to adopt this reasonable and manly course, I advise that they should agree among themselves to form a Government for the Queen ; that one or more of them should solicit an audience of her Majesty, and request her Majesty to select for her servants men Avho Avill maintain, at all events, the existing Corn Laws. At the same time they should be prepared to projDose to her Majesty the names of persons to fill the different ofKces of the State, and be responsible for carrying on the GoA'^ernment." The Duke, after alluding to the only alternatiA^e left, assuming that neither Sir Robert Peel nor Lord John Russell was permitted to take the lead, entreats his correspondent to give to all that he had said his earnest attention ; and to exert his influence Avith those Avho, like himself, Avere great landed proprietors, so that they might adopt a course on the occasion Avorthy of their station, their talents, and their patriotism. "At all CA^ents, the great landed projjrietors ought not to be in a hurry. They should consider, individually, what is about to be submitted for the consideration of Parliament, in regard to AAdiich it could never be too late for the landed interest to take AvhatcA^er course might appear desirable. If, hoAvever, the great landed proprietors are determined not to Avait and see Avhat is coming, they are bound themselves to submit a projijosal for the formation of a Government." 1846. COERESPONDEN-CE AVITII MR. CROKER. 565 This manl}^ appeal so far prevailed, that the heads of the landed interest in the House of Lords remained quiet. Other politicians not in either House of Parliament, were less docile, and one in particular, a man of great ability*, but retired by this time into private life, strongly urged the Duke to extricate himself from the false position into which Sir Eobert Peel had thrown him. The sum of the advice was, that the Duke should be no party to measures which would destroy the gentry, the aristocracy, and the monarchy; that he should withdraw from the administra- tion, and leave Sir Eobert Peel and Lord John Russell to work together ; in which case he (the Duke) commanding an array of observation, they would find themselves unable to effect much mischief, and they would certainly not succeed in carrying repeal. The Duke answered this letter to the following effect : — " That tliouo'li tliere was no more sincere Avell- wisher to the existing Corn Laws and the Sliding Scale than himself, and though he had done, and would continue to do, everything in his power to maintain them, the position which he had taken up was not the Corn Laws. His object Avas to maintain a Government in the country. For that he had always con- tended, and always would contend. He was very sensible that any in- fluence which he might possess, any good which he might aid in doino-, any evil Avhich he might contribute to avert, must depend upon the kind- ness and good opinion of his friends. Such influence might easily be written, or cried, or even talked down. So be it ; he could not avoid the evil. Blithe positively and distinctly declined to take a step, which must have the effect of dissolving a Government, of which the dissolution must be followed by the loss of Cora Laws, and everything else. " He would not attempt to reason upon the hyj)otlietical views which his correspondent took of Sir Eobert Peel's propositions. He hoped soon to see what they Avere. In the meantime he endeavoured to preA^ail upon those Avho desired to learn, or Avere willing to read, or to listen in conver- sation to his opinions, to Avait and see Avhat Peel Avould propose, before they decided upon the course Avhich they Avould take Avhen his proposals saAV the light. This would be reasonable in any course, except, perhaps, in one involving party politics." At last, on the 27th of January, Sir Robert Peel propounded his scheme. He was listened to Avith breathless silence Avhile he spoke, and Avhen he sat doAvn, there folloAved such a burst of mino-led cheerinsc and execration as has not often been heard in any popular assembly. The effect upon the great bulk of the Duke's friends in the House of Lords Avas stunning. One after another they wrote to say, that they could not give their support to .; : * Mr. John Wilson Croker. o o 3 566 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTONS^ 1846. Sir Eobert Peel's policy; that they could discover in his explana- tion no sufficient reasons for departing from a system which had rendered England what she was ; and that while they admired the chivalrous devotion with which the Duke had sacrificed his own judgment in order to support the Queen's Grovernment, they could not bring themselves, not being officially connected with that Grovernment, to follow his example. The Duke's manner of deal- ing with these remonstrances was as wise as it was manly. He assured his friends that he was much more concerned and grieved, than he was surprised, at the line which they considered them- selves under the necessity of taking. He lamented the whole course into which the affair had fallen. He recommended to such men as his correspondents, to maintain the political influence in the country which their station, their conduct, their abilities, and character, had acquired for them ; to avoid all imitation of the illegalities of the League; to act with the wisdom and discretion which had secured for them the confidence of the public ; and if circumstances should for a moment separate them, the great landed proprietors of the country, from the Ministers of the Crown, to let the separation be as brief as possible, for the sake of the Crown and of all the interests of the country worth preserving. Unfor- tunately for all concerned, too many of the Conservatives fell under the influence of anger and disappointed hope. The debates in the Commons soon degenerated into a succession of bitter personalities, and the great ends to be achieved were lost sight of in the desire to humble and wovmd the feelings of individuals. The case was different in the House of Lords. There, by a course of action which at once marked him out as the future head of the great Conservative party. Lord Stanley, though opposed to the policy of his late colleague, co-operated with the Duke in preventing the heaviest of all calamities — an angry collision on such a subject between the two Houses. There lies before us an extensive cor- respondence, which, were it transcribed at length, would throw but little new light upon the state of parties at the moment. But two letters we feel ourselves boimd to give, partly on account of the views which are taken in them of the particular question under consideration, and still more because of the insight which they afford into the characters and feelings of the writers. Lord Stanley, it appears, had discussed in confidential conversa- tion with the Duke, not only the actual state of affairs and the causes which led to it, but its probable effect upon the future con- stitution of the Government, and through the Grovernment on the fate of the nation. The Duke seems to have made no disguise of his own sentiments, and to have pressed upon Lord Stanley the duty 1846. LORD DERBY'S LETTER TO THE DUKE. 567 of rallying, with as little delay as possible, the great Conservative party, and placing himself at its head. How this advice was received, and to what results it led, the following comrhunications show : — "St. James's Square, 18th Feb., 1846. " My dear Duke, " The kindness with Avhich yon liaA-e always spoken to me on public matters since we became members of the same Government, and especially Avliat fell from you the other night at Apsley House, induces me to address you with a frankness and unreserve which our relative positions would hardly justify in circumstances less critical than those in which the country is now placed. We cannot disguise from ourselves that the un- fortunate measure now under consideration 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, wdiich 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 Robert 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 lukcAvarm support of a few of his friends, against the angry opposition of the great mass of the Conservative party. It is evident that these anticipations have been realised to the fullest extent, and I think it very doubtful Avhether 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 noAV 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 services, he can never reunite that party under his giiidance. Nor do I at present see any one in the House of Commons of sufficient abihty 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 emi- nence in that House. In the House of Lords the case is widely different. There your influence and authority are, and must be paramount, and much as many of your followers may regret the course which a sense of duty has led you to take on this occasion, they Avill still regard you with undiminished personal respect and attachment ; and while you are at their head, will folloAV no other leader, if any were ill-judged enough to set himself up in opposition to you. And this leads me to s|3eak 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 you as a colleague, and to take a portion of the weight of public business off your shoulders ; — nor that I looked forward to making myself so known to the members of that House as to qualify me in some degi-ee to act as your successor whenever you should yourself desire to be reheved from the burthens of office. But when, with that 568 MEMOIR OF TllH UUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1846. disregard of yourself Avliich you have shown throughout your hfe, you advise that I should now endeavour to rally the Conservative 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 Govern- ment. I may be compelled by my 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 woidd take an active part, and put myself at the head of a movement to throw them 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 disunite 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 the present en- tangled posture of alFairs, even to guess at the course of events ; but I must avow my conviction, that Avhatever be the result of this measure, the days of the present Government are numbered, and that the country must again, for a time, be subjected to a Wliig Government. And this is the natural course of events, as the overthrow of the present administration will be effected by some Whig majority, aided by the absence of some of the dissatisfied Conservatives in the House of Commons, where alone a defeat will justify the resignation of the Cabinet. The party which suc- ceeds in overtlirowing Peel nuist replace him ; and, in the formation of an administration verging on Radicalism, I see the only chance of reuniting, in opposition, the great Conservative party, and training the House of Commons members of it to the conduct of public business. While the present Government lasts, the Conservatives will be disunited and discon- tented. 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 adhered to Peel ; but, in opposition, both sections would again rally, forgetting past differences, and, in oiir House, following as readily as before your lead, so long as you are able and willing 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, 1 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 rmhappy 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 confident 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 said to me, I have thought it best that you should be fully aware of the view which I am 1846. THE DUKES LETTER TO LORD DERBY. 569 disposed to take, and of tlie considerations 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." " February 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 much flattered by the confidence Avhich you repose in me, and I Avill write to you with as little reserve, relying with confidence that Avhat passes between us Avill be communicated only by the consent of both. " You 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 ; knoAving Avhat he had performed : the restoration of the finance of the country ; the settlement of the banking system ; the revival of commerce ; the settlement of this very Corn question, and his defence of Avhat had been settled ; the success in Ireland in putting doAvn the monster meetings ; the universal tran- quillity prevailing throughout Great Britain ; the confidence which there Avas 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 manu- facturing and commercial toAvns 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 Avant of it, particularly in the House of Commons, very much to his omission to make use of the majority Avhich 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 rCAaA^ai ; on the contrary, I am con- vinced that if his opponents in either House Avere to move a vote of Avant of confidence in him, it Avould pass in the Commons by a large majority, — and Avould be opposed in the House of Lords only by you and myself, and his and my colleagues, a fcAv in the Queen's household, and very fcAV ^^er- sonal friends of his, and relations 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 ConservatiA'-e party ; and this for the sake of the Queen, of the religious, and other ancient insti- tutions of the country, of its resources, influence, and poAver; all necessary for its prosperity, and the contentment and happiness of the people. It is quite obvious that I am not the person who can pretend to luidertake, Avith any chance of success, to perform this task. It is not pasy to account for my being in the situation which I have so long filled in the House of Lords. 570 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1846. Its commencement was merely accidental : I was commander-in-chief of the army, and master -general of the ordnance, Avhen Lord Liverpool Avas strnck by palsy ; and although I had not, I believe, once sjioken in Parlia- ment for tAventy 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, hoAvever unworthily, I have held ever since, Avhether 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 Avill shoAv you in this letter, and I Avill likewise shoAv you that if it has not already termi- nated, it must terminate in a very short period of time. " You will see, therefore, that the stage is entirely clear and open for you, and that notAvithstanding that I am, thank God, in as good health as I was tAventy years ago, I am as much out of your way, as you contem- plated the possibility that I might be Avhen you desired to be removed to the House of Lords. " I think that you Avere quite right in doing so ; and I rejoiced, and still more noAV rejoice, that you did so. " For many years, indeed from the year 1830, AAdien I retired from office, I have endeavoiu'ed to manage the House of Lords upon the prin- ciple on Avhich I conceive that the institution exists in the constitution of the comitry, that of Conservatism. I have iuA^ariably objected to all violent and extreme measiu-es, Avhich is not exactly the mode of acquiring influ- ence in a political party in England, particularly one in opposition to GoA'ernment. I have invariably supported Government in Parliament iipon important occasions, and have ahvays exercised my personal influence to prevent the mischief of anything like a difference or division betAveen the tAvo Houses, — of Avhich there are some remarkable instances, to Avhich I will advert here, as they Avill tend to show you the nature of my management, and possibly, in some degree, accoimt for the extraordinary poAver which I have for so many years exercised, Avithout any apparent claim to it. " Upon finding the difficulties in Avhich the late King William Avas inA'olved by a promise made to create peers, the number, I belicA^e, indefi- nite, I determined myself, and I j^revailed upon others, the number A^ery large, to be absent fi-om the House in the discussion of the last stages of the Eeform Bill, afl;er the negotiations had failed for the formation of a new administration . " This course gave at the time great dissatisfaction to the party ; not- withstanding 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 1835 to 1841, I prevailed upon the House of Lords to depart from many principles and systems Avhich they as Avell 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 Avhich I had spoken in opposition to the measure, and had protested against it ; and in the last stages of it I preA'ailed upon the House to agree to, and pass it, in order to 1846. THE DUKES MANAGEMENT OF THE LORDS. ,571 avoid tlie injury to the public interests of a dispute between tlie Houses \ipon u cpiestion of sucli importance. " Then I supported the measures of the Government, and protected the servant of the Government, Captain Elliott, in China. All of which tended to weaken my influence 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 commencement at least of Lord Melbourne's Government, I was in constant communication with it iipon 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 Con- servative party, while it tended essentially to the ease and satisfaction of the Sovereign, and to the maintenance of good order. At length came the resignation of the Government by Sir Robert Peel, in the month of December last, and the Queen desiring Lord John Russell to form an administration. " On the 12th of December, the Queen Avrote to me the letter of which I enclose the copy, and the copy of my answer of the same date ; of which it appears that you have never seen copies, although I communicated them immediately to Sir Robert Peel. " It was impossible for me to act other Avise than is indicated 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 con- nection 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 Government 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 in- fluence on my part over the Conservative party, if I should be so indiscreet as to attempt to exercise any. You will see, therefore, that the stage is quite clear for you, and that you need not apprehend the consequences of differing in opinion from me when you Avill enter upon it ; as in truth I have, by my letter to the Queen of the 12th of December, put an end to the connection betAveen the party and me, Avhen the party Avill l)e in oppo- sition to her Majesty's Government. " My opinion is, that the great object of all is that you should assume the station, and exercise the influence Avhich I have so long exercised in the House of Lords. " The question is, how is that object to be attained? By guiding their opinion and decision, or by folloAving it ? " You wiU see that I have endeavoured to guide their opinion, and have succeeded upon some most remarkable occasions. But it has been by a good deal of management. 572 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1846. " Upon the important occasion and question now before the House, I propose to endeavour to induce them to avoid to invoh-e the country in the additional difficulties of a difference of o^Dinion, possibly a dispute, between the Houses, on a question in the decision of which it has been frequently asserted that their lordshijDS had a personal interest; which assertion, however false as affecting each of them personally, could not be denied as affecting the proprietors of land in general. " I am aware of the difficulty, but I don't despair of carrying the BiU through. " You must be the best judge of the course which you oiight to take, and of the coiu-se 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 woxdd be most beneficial to the im- mediate interests of the country. " But do what you may, it will make no difference to me; you will always find me aiding and co-operating in the road of good order. Con- servatism, and Government ; and doing everything to establish and maintain your influence in the Conservative party, Avhich 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 anotlier administration, which I have always con- sidered as referable to the Sovereign alone. I concur in opinion Avith you, that the difference in the Conservative party, arising out of the existing state of affairs, must be reconciled by a period of joint opposition to a Whig Government. But if you .should succeed, as I feel confident you will, in rallying round you the Conservative pai-ty in the House of Lo]'ds, I submit to you, that if you should be required by the Sovereign to form a Government, you should not decline without taking time to consider of the proposition, and for inquiry as to the means of forming a Government 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 his 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. lit the meantime this letter will show you exactly how I stand, and what I mean to do in the measures now under consider- ation." It is not to be supposed that the Duke corresponded during this great crisis exclusively with members of either House of Parlia- 1846. THE DUKES AMATEUE ADVISERS. 573 meut, or with meu who filled then, or had formerly filled, con- spicuous 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 exj)ression, the whole British people, regarding him as public property, considered that his time, as well as his purse, was at everybody'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 2nd of March, to say, that he had discovered a strong reason, not as yet adduced in either House, why the ex- isting 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 combining together, could so operate upon the market as to throw the whole, or three-fourths, of English wheat-growing land out of cultivation. The Duke answered the communication thus : — " Field Marshal the Duke of Wellington presents his compliments. He lias received, and returns 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 Birmingham, an earnest and, as the writer doubtless imagined, an eloquent appeal on behalf of free trade to the largest 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 subjects 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 WolverhamjDton, called his attention to certain errors, real or imaginary, in one of Sir Robert Peel's speeches : — "Field Marshal the Diike 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 Robert 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 speccli, and knows nothing about it." 574 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. ]846. We must hurry over what remains to be told respecting the progress of the great measure, and of the effect upon the state of parties to which the success of the minister led. From the first it was evident to all lookers-on, that the repeal of the Corn Laws must be carried, and that a combination would immediately afterwards be entered into between the Whigs who supported, and the Tories who opposed the Bill, to expel the administration from office. The Duke was strongly in favour of offering every resistance to this move, first by counter-projects on the part of the Cabinet, and next, should these fail, by dissolving Parliament. But Peel de- clined to come into his views. He fought the Corn-law question to a triumphant issue, and being defeated on a Eegistration of Arms Bill for Ireland, at once resigned. The Duke, of course, retired with him ; indeed he had written so early as the 12th of December to the Queen to prepare her Majesty for his final secession from political life. He adhered to that resolution, and never again, except when called up by some question which affected the military state of the country, took any prominent part even in the debates of the House of Lords. THE DUKE IN PRIVATE LIFE. 575 CHAP. XL. THE DTJKE IN PEIVATE LIFE. — HIS PECITLIAEITIES. — HIS FEIENDS. — ME. AEBUTHNOT. — HIS HABITS. — HIS ANXIETY ON THE SUBJECT OP NATIONAL BEFENCES. — HIS LAST ILLNESS, BEATH, ANB FUNEEAL. We have now to follow the great Diike 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 Walmer. 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 resi- dence he had ever 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 because it owed its peculiar shape to his 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. We have reason to believe that neither 576 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. Lord Hill, nor Lord Eaglan, nor Sir Gfeorge Murray, ever visited the Duke at Strathfieldsaye ; nor could they or others of similar standing, such as Lord Anglesey, Sir Edward Paget, and Sir James Kempt, be reckoned among the habitues of his hospitable gather- ings 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 perfectly well how to draw the line, even within that circle, between intimacy and mere acquaintanceshijo. From 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. It would be invidious to particularise indi- viduals, as if they alone stood in this category ; but the names, among others, of Earl Stanhope, of the Earl of Clanwilliam, of the late Earl of Ellesmere, and of Colonel Grurwood, will at once occur to those who have had any opportunity of making themselves acquainted with the Duke's predilections and antipathies. 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 uninterrupted to the day of his death. It was, however, 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. Mr. Croker was one of his most regular corresiDondents, especially in seasons of political perplexity. The Duke did not always number him, on such occasions, among the most judicious of his advisers. From Mr. Arbuthnot, on the other hand, he seems never to have kept back a thought. Mild and gentle in his deportment, 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 Strathfieldsaye. It was DEATH OF MR. ARBUTHNOT. 5^7 touching to witness the regard of these okl 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. Arhuthnot 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 : " Now, Arbuthnot, you've been out long enough. The dew is falling, and you'll catch cold ; you must go in." And like a child obeying the behests of its mother or its nurse, Arbuthnot, not always without a brief remonstrance, would leave the Duke to continue his walk alone, and withdraw into the castle. Having touched upon this matter, we may as well sacrifice chronological order and bring our narrative of the friendship 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, he made a report to the Duke, that the case was hope- less. They were sitting together in that back room which the Duke usually occupied, and which, as it still continues in the state in which he left it, so, let us hope, that it will be retained in the same condition while 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, ex- claimed 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 personally bestowed upon him, and the eagerness with which he clung to every symptom which could by any means be accepted as favourable. Mr. Arbuthnot was buried in Kensal Green, 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 whicli the Duke was evidently not prepared. 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 intense apparent interest till it disappeared; but he could not be persuaded to descend afterwards into the vault. What passed within his nnnd (luring that interval, who shall imdertake to say ? But whatever it might be, it stayed his tears, and sent him back, calm and col- p r 578 MEMOm OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. lected, as soon as the funeral service was over, to the haunts of busy men. They who never visited the Duke at >Strathfieldsaye, or at Wahner, 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 leav- ing 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 afternoon. He then joined his friends, rode or drove out with them, or walked, as the case might be, making himself most agreeable to all who approached him. A pack of hounds was kept in the neighbour- hood, mth which he frec|uently 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 breakfast 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 gene- rous. His conversation also, till deafness grew upon him, was lively and instructive, and at table he made it as general as pos- sible. 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 introduced, but books and news- papers lay on all the tables, and the conversation rarely flagged. About eleven the ladies usually retired, and half an hour after- wards 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 surprise that he should continue to THE DUKES READING. 579 make use of a bed ou which tliere was no room to turn, his answer was, " When 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 Nations," Hume, the Archduke Charles, Gibbon, Leslie, and the Bible. But he did not confine himself to these. Every new work of any merit which came out, he read; and he was especially interested in French and English memoirs, and what our neighbours call "materials for history." Nor was he obliged to go far in search of this in- tellectual pabulum. There was scarcely an English author, there was certainly not an English novelist, who failed to send the Duke a copy of his book ; indeed to such an extent was 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 was peculiar in his reading, as in other things. It chanced, on one occasion, that he was in want, when at Wal- mer, of a new book. Niebuhr's History was recommended to him ; and he began it. He read on till he reached the narrative of Caesar's cruelty to his prisoners ; and there shut the book. Nothing could induce him to go further. This was too much. He would not have his idols so thrown down. The Duke did not approve of the habitual, and therefore com- mon-place, discussion of sacred subjects, but as often as they were introduced, you might perceive by his change of manner, that he felt himself to be upon holy ground. Of the Lord's Prayer he used to say, that *' it contained the sum total of religion and of morals." But the greatest enjoyment to his friends was when they could get him to discuss his own campaigns. When asked which of the French marshals he considered the best officer ? he replied, " Massena; I always found him where I least desired that he should be." Of the campaign of Salamanca he spoke as of " the most perfect piece of manoeuvring which the world had seen since the times of Frederick the Great." Soult he respected, but observed, " though his plans seemed always to be admirable, he never knew when to strike." His opinion of Napoleon was a very mixed one. He considered him " a great man, but also a great actor." And here we may insert an anecdote, which, though it be not immediately connected with his daily proceedings at Walmer, may tend to illustrate the subject of which we are speaking. On the 8th of December, 1825, the following persons met at Teddesley, the seat of Lord Hatherton, then Mr. Littleton ; the Duke of Wellington, Mr. Richard and Lady Harriet Bagot, Mr. Peel, Mr. Croker, Mr. George Fortesque, Mr. and Mrs. Foster 580 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF ^,YELLINGTO^. Cunliffe, and Mr. and Mrs. Littleton. After dinner the conversa- tion turned on the Waterloo campaign, when Croker alluded to the criticisms of the French military writers, some of whom con- tended 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 for infantry, cavalry, and even for artillery, and very defensible. Had I retreated through it, could they have followed me ? The Prus- sians were on their flank, and would have been in their rear. The co-operation of the Prussians in the operations I undertook was part of my plan, and I was not deceived. But I never contem- plated a retreat on Brussels. Had I been forced from my position, I should have retreated to my right, towards the coast, the ship- ping, and my resources. I had placed Hill where he could have lent me important assistance in many contingencies, and that might have been one. And again I ask, if I had retreated on my right, v\^ould Napoleon have ventured to follow me ? The Prus- sians, already on his flank, would have been in his rear. But my plan was to keep my ground till the Prussians appeared, and then to attack the French position ; and I executed my plan." On quitting the room, Croker remarked that he had never heard the Duke say as much on that subject before. It was 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 indi- viduals 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, trustworthy, and naturally intelligent, ^' that he knew no language 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 perfect, and the cook came to Colin to complain. Neither understood a Avord of what the other was saying, but I overheard 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 belonged to Colin, upon which Colin seized the other end of it, took it away, and said with a low bow, ' C'est moine.'^' THE DUKE',S STORIES. 581 Speaking of the battle of Vimeira, the Duke observed, " The French 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 heavy columns, and I received them in line, which they were not accustomed to, and v/e repulscil them three several times." Referring to the advance from the Douro to the Ebro, the Duke stated that "he got famously taken in on that occasion." "The troops had taken to plundering a good deal. It was necessary to stop it, and I issued an order announcing that the first man caught in the act should be hanged upon the spot. One day, just as we v/ere sitting down to dinner, three men were brought to the door of the tent by the prevot. The case against them was clear, and I had nothing for it but to desire that they should be led away, and hanged in some place where they might be seen by the whole column in its march next day. I had a good many guests with me on that occasion, and among the rest, I think. Lord Nugent. They seemed dreadfully shocked, and could not eat their dinner. I didn't like it much myself, Init 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 sure enough, three men in uniform were seen hanging from the branches 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 astonishment, when some months afterwards 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 ; Ijut as I had no wish to take the poor fellows' 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." Talking of Napoleon, and the influence which he exercised over his troops, the Duke gave a curious instance of their belief tliat resistance to him was hopeless. The circumstance occurred at the battle of Waterloo. " I had three battalions of Nassau troops under my command ; they were the same who, after being beaten by us a dozen times in the Peninsula, came over in a body on the 11th of December, 1813. I put them in the park at Huugoumont, and expected that, being old soldiers, they would keep their ground. But the moment the French began to advance, I saw them waver. It was this which made me withdraw them, and put a battalion of the guards in their place. I ascertained afterwards just what I 582 MEMOIE OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. expected to find, that the name of Napoleon had beaten them before they fired a shot ; and that if I had left them there, the park, and probably Hougoumont itself, Avould have been carried at a rush." Though free in discussing the merits of those to whom he had been opposed, the Duke Avas delicate in giving any opinion re- specting the military abilities of the officers who served under him. Being pressed on one occasion to say Avhich among them all he considered to be his most promising 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 sacrament 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 entirely upon the act in which he was participating. He was not always so attentive during sermon time. 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 sometimes snored audibly. He was very particular also in requiring that his guests should attend divine service somewhere. It happened on one occasion that Count Nugent, an Irish gentleman, but an Austrian general, paid him a visit at Walmer Castle. Sun- day 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 Koman Catholic chapel, do you know where it is ? " " Yes, Sir," replied Watts. " Then be so good as show him the way." It was to no purpose that Count Nugent tried to escape. Captain Watts, an old Peninsular officer, had received liis instructions, and instructions from the Duke of Wellington must be obeyed, and to the Roman Catholic chapel the Count was accordingly marched. The Duke was a good deal tickled, and in walking to church with THE DUKE AND DE. PHILLPOTS. 583 his Protestant friends observed, " I knew he did not want me to go to church, nor to go himself either, but I thought it l^est that we should both go." And here, though somewhat out of place, we may be permitted to detail an anecdote which does equal credit to the venerable pre- late who administered the advice, and to the great Avarrior 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 sympathies of the whole 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 him- self, the highest pitch of glory, if he publicly evinced his reverence for God and for religion. That letter, with the Duke's reply, well deserves to be published at length ; but we content ourselves for the present with stating that the Duke thanked his monitor for the advice so kindly given, and entered into a long and most satisfactory state- ment of his own religious principles and practices. He was neither the careless nor the profligate man which the world represented him to be. Wherever his example was likely to tell, he attended public worship regularly ; 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 Royal, 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 advised him to do, he could have no hope at all for the future. The 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 things that England should ally herself with France, in order to dismember a kingdom which she had been mainly instrumental in consolidating, 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 com- manders of both squadrons to the castle, though he was probably not sorry that the state of the \veather would not permit the French admiral to land. The Duke was very proud of his eyesight, which indeed con- tinued 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 p p 4 584 MEMOIR OF THE DUXE OF WELLINGTON. passing up and down channel, at distances which 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 geographers make it, was, we suspect, impos- sible ; but there is no doubt that the Duke could, at eighty-three years of age, read in the open air a well-written manuscript with- out using spectacles. The Duke's fondness for children was great ; and he was, as might be expected, strongly attached to his own grandchildren, 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. But the feeling was not new with him, as it sometimes is with men who, for the first time, come under its influence when they are well stricken in years. Though never demonstrative, under any circumstances, and, through the press of constant business, cut off 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. William Wagner, vicar of Brighton, became tutor to the present Duke, then Marquess of Douro, and to Lord Charles Wellesley, in 1817; and in a private letter, which he has kindly permitted us to use, he thus describes his first interview with their illustrious father : — " In 1817, when the Duke sent for nie to go to him at Mont St. Martin, the liead-quarters of tlie army of occupation, 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 postponed to that of duty. The interest Avhich he took in their education may, in a manner, be exem- plified by u single fact. During a period of seven years that I was with the Marquess of Douro and Lord Cliarles Wellesley, he (the Didie) never failed to answer by the very first post any inquiry or letter connected Avith the well-being of his sons. No matter what were the Duke's occupations, whether en route for the inspection of the fortresses in the Low Countries ; whether at the Congress of Verona, or on a special mission to St. Peters- bm-g, he invariably answered my lettei's touching his sous 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. He laid it down as a ride for their guidance at Eton, that they should purchase nothing for which they had not in their pockets the means of paying. The enclosed letter to myself, Avritten after the young men had entered the university, sets thiw matt(c'r in the clearest point of view." THE DUKE'S LETTEE TO MR. AYAGNER. 583 " Hatfield, 10th October, 1824. " My DEAit Sir, " I have received your letter of the 7th, to which I proceed to give an answer ; and I i-cquest you to communicate it to my sons, which will save both me and them trouble. "After all the inquiries which I have made, I believe that the allowance Avhich 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 he 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, 6001. per annum, besides his half-pay. I therefore, by this post, direct Messrs. Coutts to pay Douro 200/., and Charles 125Z., on the 1st October, 1st January, 1st April, and 1st July each year, begin- ning Avith the 1st inst. " I beg that Charles will observe that I make him this allowance, at present, in order that he may defray the expenses 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 should make it by his own industry and talent ; and I beg you Avill tell tliem both that Avhen I entered the world I had just the sum for the Avhole year which I now give Charles every quarter. " I intend that these allowances shall cover all expenses of every de- scription ; and I have reason to believe them so ample that I expect they will not run m debt ; particularly 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-commoner's gowns. " They must pay for the flirniture of their rooms themselves, but if you should think the expense too heavy iipon them immediately, I would ad- vance the money, and they can repay me hereafter. " I give them the horses which they now have with them, of which they may dispose as they may think proper ; and they may take any servants they please out of my house or stables, they, of course, paying their wages, and also their expeuses, 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 in- fallible 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 immediately for everything 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 Avhat they cannot do. There is nothing so easy, provided they begin in time ; and I give them these ample allowances, and pay them beforehand, purposely 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 col- lege, wliich they have to defray themselves, their servants' wages and clothes, the keep of their horses, and l;iy by a sufficiency to defray their 586 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. ' expenses till the 1st January. The remainder will be their own, and they Avill 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 the course is in the university, I Avill give you my opinion upon other matters. They should likewise have a perfect knowledge of modern geography and his- tory, of course, but I shall hear fiirther from j'ou on these points. I will go and see them shortly after they shall have gone to Oxford, Avhere they ought to be on the 14th. They had better probably go to Strathfieldsaye to make their arrangements for their departiu-e, as soon as you will receive this letter. '* I wish you 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 col- lege exercises, and was in the habit of requiring from them weekly reports of their course of study, aud of the themes and verses which they "wi'ote. 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 us, his own remarks in pencil remain. One of Lord Wellesley's answers to these communications from the Duke will, we are sure, be read with interest. "Eiclimond, 2nd May, 1821. " My dear Arthur, '' I was much gratified by your kind attention ui sending me the exercises of your sons. I could not answer your letter until I had examined them carefully ; they Avere 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 satisJactiou to me to obserA^e 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 con- cluding verses of tliat exercise display considerable spirit and original thought. Tell him from me, that the boy Avho admires Homer must have made great proficiency. " Charles's exercises are very promising, and I think he has already MARQUESS AYELLESLEY'S LETTER. 587 attained a sense of the harmony of Latin verse. There are two copies marked ' Gerald Wellesley ; ' I suppose the author is Henry's boy ; they are also very creditable for the fourth form. " I consider these efforts as the true foundation of distinction in the pro- gress of life. Not 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 in the ancient languages is most useful if not absolutely necessary, to those who desire completely to understand those languages; at all events, it is iisefiil to employ young persons in acquiring such accomplishments, and it is satisfactory 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 yovu- boys are much more correct and better in every respect, than those published by the eighth ivonder of the world, Master Dallas.'''' Mr. Waguer naturally passes from this subject to notice some of the Duke's peculiarities as a man of business, and within the domestic circle. " It was always a positive pleasure/' he says, " to transact business with him, for this reason, that he was never small, even in small matters. He was true, generous, confidino-, unselfish, great in little as well as in great things. His prompti- tude surpassed that of all other men with whom I ever came in contact. Take the following example : — It was about the year 1819 that I went to Apsley House to tell the Duke that there was a house vacant, which was well calculated for the reception of his boys and myself. On entering his sitting-room, I found him buckling on his sword. He bade me enter at once upon business, because he was on the point of going to Carlton House. ' The rent of the house,' I said, * is so much.' 'Take it,' he replied. ' The taxes are so much.' ' Pay them.' ' The furniture is so much.' ' Buy it. Have you anything more to say ? ' ' No, fSir.' ' Then, good morning.' " When at Strathfieldsaye, the Duke played tennis in the tenuis court, which was a riding-school in Lord Eivers' time, and which the Duke had converted to its present use. His Grrace and I were, perhaps, more equally matclied th;in men usually are, and hence the Duke often, I might almost say invariably, sent to ask me, whether I was disposed to play at tennis with him. On one occasion I re- member to have made a chance, back-handed, violent return of the ball, which was so rapid and twisting that he could not get out of 588 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. its way. It struck him ou the side. I jumped over the net, and expressed my regret; secretly wishing that I, and not he, had received the blow. He rubbed the place, and referred to a custom in India, of rubbing for a variety of ills. He then resumed the game, and would not leave off till he had played out the set." Long after the elasticity which carried him through such sports as this was gone, the love of children, indicated in his treatment of his sons, remained, of which the following instance, taken at random from many, seems to deserve notice. There was an order against strangers wandering from the road which leads up to the gate, and getting into the grounds and shrub- beries about Walmer Castle. It happened, on one occasion, that a lady, ignorant of the existence of that order, strayed into the pad- dock with 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 account of the mistake which she had committed, with a nervous 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-morrow 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 people ate their fill, and the Duke, after showing them through the castle, and over the garden, hung a half-sovereign suspended from a blue 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 in- firmities of age grew upon him ; and he found it impossible, some- times, to restrain it. But he never gave way to a l)urst of passion without regretting it, and showing, if the opportunity offered, by. some immistakable proof, that he had wounded himself more than he had wounded others. This was particularly the casein his dealings with his valet, one of the most faithful domestics that ever waited 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, "• aud you have taken it away. What have you done with it ? " " I never saw it. THE DUKE'S GENEROSITY. 589 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 question. 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 Dake's liberality to persons in distress was unbounded, and, contrary to all precedent, seemed to increase with his years. He subscribed also, but quietly, to many charitable 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 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 instances of the extent to which he suffered himself to be plundered, obtained publicity in consequence of the case having been brought into a police-court ; yet we 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 regain 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 hand- v;riting on letters to which registered replies were returned, com- municated with the Mendicity Office, and the plot being discovered, the parties to it were arraigned before the magistrate, and com- mitted to prison. We must not forget to add, that the Duke never became aware of Kendall's interference in the matter. Had such a discovery been effected, the probabilities are that Kendall's con- nection with his master would have ceased immediately. And yet the Duke used to complain in his private letters, of the endless applications that were made to him, and of the spirit which seemed to sugofest them, as thus : — 'oo^ " September 8th, 18o2, " It is certainly very ciu-ions, Hint every lilackgnard ben-o-av, male or female, no matter of what country, considers it the right of each to demand 590 MEMOIR OF THE DUKR OF WELLINGTON. money fi-om me ! and that every lady or gentleman, wlietlier I am ac- quainted with them or not, considers that he has a right to demand the service of my power and influence in favour of some relation of the writer, or that, if I have any office, or advantage, or benefit in my gift or at my disposal, the applicant considers himself as exceedingly ill-treated if I do not dispose of the same as he desires. I am certain it is generally under- stood that I am a good-natured man, who will do anything; 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 certainly would be the case if I were an emancipated slave. I cannot otherwise accoimt for the demands made upon me." Another little anecdote, illnstrative 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, were 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 bedroom, and made the proposal ; but the Duke would not hear of it. " Let the dinner go on ; " and the dinner did go on, Captain Watts and Dr. M'Arthur doing the honours of the table. One of the common penalties of greatness the Duke was called upon to pay more frequently than perhaps any Englishman of THE DUKE AND THE ARTIST. ,';91 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, impunctual in keeping his engagements. Generally speaking, he was composed, and sufficiently in good humour. Among others he sat to Leslie, who had received a royal command to paint the cere- mony 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, remarked, " 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 Cfrace 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, observed, "Now, mind the shape of my head. It's a square head. I know it, for Chantrey 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 peculiarities of his nature, was remarkably illustrated on the occasion of a morning visit which he jiaid to Mr. Croker, during his temporary sojourn in England at an early stage in the Peninsular war. The muni- cipality of Lisbon, grateful for the deliverance of their countr}'- from Junot's army, had requested Sir Arthur Wellesley to sit for his portrait ; and, the portrait being afterwards engraved, the words " Victor Invictus " were printed beneath. Mr. Croker, by some means or another, obtained a copy of this 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, we 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 tenantry and the incumbent of Strathfieldsaye, he charged himself, 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 * Haydou's account of his own reception at Walmer Castle will be familiar to all who have read Tom Taylor's biography of that remarkable man. 592 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. aud improving the land, and in rebuilding and putting into com- plete 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 ob- served, " out of consideration for future Dukes of Wellington. I am a rich man, because I have my pay as commander-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 reference 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. " Wliy, your Grrace, 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 Grace, for I have carefully surveyed it." " Very well, then pay the gentle- man 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 withdrew himself from the turmoil of party politics, was therefore forgetful of the wants of the country, or indifferent to them. A subject which had long been present to his mind, now aiopcared well nigh to engross it. He considered that England lay at the mercy of any great continental Power which possessed 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 France 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 nightmare. 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 Government. At last, being requested to make suggestions, he drew up a paper, wherein he sketched a plan for the preparation of works, purely defensive, on which, though certainly not with much energy or spirit, successive Governments have ever since acted. It was, in substance, this : — After pointing out that the application of steam to purposes of navigation had converted the channel into little more than a broad river, while, at the same time, it rendered such a system of HARBOURS OF REFUGE. 593 blockade as had prevailed in the late war impossible, the Duke asked, first, for a fleet, which should be more than a match for anything that France could bring against it ; and next, for certain harbours of refuge, which should combine the advantages of shelter, in all weathers, with strategetical position. He considered the Channel Islands, Jersey, Guernsey, and Alderney, to be the key of the whole of our outer line of defence. In each of these he re- quired that a harbour of refuge should be constructed, of sufficient capacity and depth of water to receive a stout squadron ; and then, with Portsmouth well guarded on one flank, and Plymouth on the other, he held that England would be pretty safe from invasion on a large scale. For Jersey, Alderney, and Gruernsey being within a few miles of the French coast, interpose between Cherbourg and St. Malo, Brest, and the harbours in the Bay of Biscay. It would be impossible, therefore, for a fleet which might have assembled in the first of these ports, to form a junction with the squadrons in any of the others, without being observed and attacked : unless, indeed, in seeking to form this junction it were to take the outer passage, in which case it would be seen from the Isle of Wight, and its progress barred by the Portsmouth division. Next to the Channel Islands, he regarded Seaford as the most important station along the entire southern coast. If properly provided with a harbour and fortifications, it would cover all the exposed sjDace which lies between Selsey and Beachy Head ; where facilities of landing from boats are ample, and from which many excellent roads branch off in converging lines towards London. He did not think meanly either of Portland, or Newhaven, or even of JDover. The security to be afforded by properly dealing with these was considerable. But if Grovernment gave him the Channel Islands, Seaford, Portsmouth, and Plymouth, all completely forti- fied and fitted to receive resj)ectively their squadrons, then he was satisfied that, though it might be impossible to prevent marauding- parties from landing here and there, England would be jjlaced beyond the risk of invasion on such a scale as to endanger her existence, or even to put the capital in jeopardy. Establishing thus an outer line of defence, he asked for men and materiel, wherewith to meet an enem}^, should he succeed in breaking through that line. He would be satisfied with an addition of 20,000 men to the regular army; provided such a force of militia were raised as would enable him to dispose of 70,000 men among the principal fortresses and arsenals in the kingdom, keeping at the same time two corps, each of 50,000 men, in hand, one in the neighbourhood of London, the other near Dublin. He should thus have open to him all the great lines of railway, which would enable Q Q 594 MEMOIR OP THE DUKE OF WELLINGTOX. him to meet with rapidity any danger, from whatever side of the capital it might threaten. The militia for which he asked, he proposed to raise to the extent of 150,000 men, by beat of drum if possible, by the operation of the ballot, if voluntary enlistment should fail. He required that in time of peace the whole force should be out for training four months in every year, — a space of time not long enough, in his opinion, to convert recruits into perfect soldiers, but sufficiently so to give to the men the habit of depending on one another, and acting together. Such a force he preferred to an army of reserve, com- posed of soldiers discharged after their regular term of service, which the ministers talked of enrolling at an annual expense of 81. or 9^. per man ; and he expressed himself confident that were these means supplied, he should be able, old as he was, to provide for the safety of the country. The memorandum of which we have thus extracted the sub- stance, went the round of the Grovernmeut offices, and was com- mented upon, discussed, and partially answered, long before his memorable letter to Sir John Burgoj^ue made its appearance. But no results followed. Plans and estimates might or might not be called for, and farther correspondence seems to have been carried on, among others, with the Inspector General of Fortifications ; but not a man was raised, not a ship was built, not a stone was laid in the Channel Islands, at Seaford, or anywhere else, except at Dover. It was under these circumstances that the Duke addressed to Sir John Burgoyne, in answer to a communication from that officer, one of the most touching, as well as able letters, which ever proceeded from his pen. He never intended that the letter in question should go before the public. On this, as on other subjects, he held to his own, or rather to Napoleon's maxim, that we " should wash our foul linen at home." But Sir John having given it, as well as some important papers besides, to be copied, it fell into indiscreet hands, and made its way to the newspapers. The blunder was a source of extreme annoyance to Sir John, and of positive indignation to the Duke. Yet out of evil to individuals, public good often arises. The people of England, ^whom inferior authorities could not move, became alarmed when the Duke of Wellington spoke out ; and the Grovernment, acted upon by the force of public opinion, could no longer refuse to treat as serious, a subject which had taken sucli fast hold of the foremost military mind of the age.* So early as the autumn of 1846, the Duke, when discussing the * We have not considered it necessary to I'cpi'int a letter vv'Iiich is familiar to all readers of newspapers and annijal registers. THE DUKE ON INVASION. 595 question of the Spanish marriages, did not hesitate to express him- self in very plain terms, respecting the conduct of Louis Philippe. He condemned the whole transaction as discreditable ; and spoke of the utter disregard which it manifested to the wishes of Eng- land, the intimate ally, as was then considered, of France. He believed that the feeling of respect for this country would be lowered by it, not in the Spanish Peninsula only, but throughout Europe ; and agreed with those who expressed an opinion that Eng- land ought to have interfered to prevent those marriages, even at the hazard of a quarrel. But what then ? " We are not in a state to risk even the smallest manifestation of angry feeling on this or any other subject. We must first put our country in that reason- able state of defence in which it was put after the seven years' war, in which it was before the French 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 opinion, 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 feeling which might be manifested on the other side. These are melancholy topics." * It happened one day, in the autumn of this year, that the con- versation at table turned upon certain alarmist articles which had just made their appearance in the "Times." A good many oflEicers of the garrison were present, when a gentleman, not an officer, put the question, " But, Duke, do you really think that an invasion of England from France is possible ? " " Possible ! " replied the Duke, "is anything impossible? Eead the newspapers." He said no more while 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, because 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 off our coast just before sunrise. The dawn, which renders everything clear to them, will not enable us 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 * MS. con'esponcleiiee. Q Q 2 596 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. well settled Leforehand, a great deal may be done towards throw- ing 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 upon it 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 memoranda, subjects on which they desired to ascertain his opinions. It was in this spirit and to gratify Colonel Gurwood, that he drew 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 desire of the present Earl of Stanhope, is extant, and in Lord Stanhope's possession. Rarely, indeed, if ever, has a man, so much occupied as he, found time for half the amount of non-official authorship into which he entered. His ordinary 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 intercourse of society ; and never failed to keep an engagement, be it ever so little to his taste, into which he had entered. The last important service which this great man rendered to his country was the arrangement of the small military force, which alone he could assemble for the suppression of the expected Chartist outbreak on the 10th of April, 1848. The moral tempest which swept that year over the continent of Europe, broke, though with mitigated violence, on the shores of this country. Meetings were got up, chiefly in London and through the manufacturing districts, to demand the concession of what was called the peo2:»le's charier ; and a petition, said to have 2,000,000 of signatures attached, was carried by a well-marshalled baud of men to West- minster, and rolled along the floor of the House of Commons, The leader of this band, and the head of the Chartist body, a half-crpi.zy Irish member of Parliament, called Fergus O'Connor, fixed the 10th of April as the day on which the people were to return for their answer ; and as he promised to come at the head of half a million of men, the Government considered that it would be proper to guard against all possible contingencies. The Duke being applied to, undertook to maintain peace in the metropolis, or to suppress disturbances should they arise. He recommended the swearing in of special constables, which was done to an unprecedented extent. He caused the public offices to be fortified by piling up books and ledgers asjainst the window^'. He stored them several Iv THE DUKE AXD THE CHARTISTS. 597 Avith tliree days' provisions, put arms into the bands of the gentle- men connected with them, and desired them to maintain them- selves there to the last extremit3\ He drew together about 7000 infantry, a fevf regiments of cavalry, with twelve pieces of cannon, and distributing the troops, some in the riding school of Buckino-- ham Palace, some in the prison at Millbank, he shut up the rest, after providing for the safety of the Bank and of the Houses of Parliament, in their barracks. Kennington Common, on the Surrey side of the river, had been selected by Mr. O'Connor as the place of rendezvous for his followers. The Duke gave strict orders that no opposition should be offered to the march of the masses towards that point. But the moment they crossed the bridges he barred all chance of their return, by planting cannon at tlie end of each, and tilling the houses which overlooked it with troops. Never in the palmiest days of his youth had the Duke, now seventy-nine 3^ears of age, been more self-possessed or energetic. He issued his instructions beforehand with the jDrecision for which during the war in the Peninsula he had been remarkable ; and when the day of action came, he took post in his ordinary blue coat and round hat at the Horse Gruards. Not a military uniform was to be seen in the streets that day, not even a sentry at the palace gates, for the Queen and the royal family had removed to Osborne, and the basement of Buckingham House was filled with soldiers. His very aides-de-camp v/ent and came, as he directed them, in plain clothes, though both their uniforms and his own were at hand in case of need. The police, armed with cutlasses, stood here. and there in columns; the special constables, carrying staves in their hands, patrolled backwards and forwards through their respective districts. We need not pause to describe the issue. About 25,000 Padical Reformers, marching from various points, met on Kennington Common, and there found themselves helpless. London was arrayed against them; and without a blow struck, ^vithout a drop of blood shed, with scarcely an angry word spoken, the revolution Avith v«']iich England was threatened, collapsed. Tlie master mind was still, when the occasion required, equal to its work, and the Avork Avas done. Our tale of the life of this great and good man is draAving to a close. Besides suppressing the Chartist movement of 1848, he gaA'e orders for that distribution of the military force in Ireland, Avhich effectually kept down the rebellious spirit of the people there ; inflamed though it was by the speeches and Avritings of a knot of very clever, but very Avrong-headed, journalists. His paper on that subject, Avhich happily survives, exhibits the wonder- ful accuracy of his recollection, not in regard to the leading fea- Q Q S 598 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. tures of the country alone, but in reference to obscure streets and alleys in Dublin and other towns, which he could have had no opportunity 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 termina- tion the war of 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 Eobert Peel. In 1851 he was chiefly engaged in defending the privileges of the University of Oxford, and in achiev- ing that modification in the constitution of the royal commission, which rendered it, as we have seen, so effective 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. Fits of somnolency used to come over him also, and he was no longer the indefatigable man of business that he used to be. For 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 difficulty. 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 against the infirmities of the flesh, and kept them at bay. WTien the Grreat Exhibition took place in 1851, he played his part well in the pageant of its opening. Nor were many public men more diligent than he in their after visits to the Cr3^stal Palace. In the evening of the opening day he dined with Miss Burdett Coutts, for whom he entertained 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 company should drink his health. This was done some little time after the ladies had withdrawn, and the compliment was acknowledged very characteristically : " Gentlemen, I am much obliged to you," said the Duke, rising from his seat, " and now let us go to the ladies," In 1852 the administration was again changed. Lord John Russell, 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 THE DUKE'S LETTERS. 599 aclcD owl edged preference for the policy of which Lord Derby was the exponent, the Duke took no part whatever in the elections which followed. He adhered to his old principle, that they who endeavour by extraordinary means to bias the minds of the consti- tuency 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 Cfovernment candi- dates, he refused. The Government party, as was natural, com- plained that such refusal was unfair towards 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 correspondence, which, so far from diminishing, appears to have grown more voluminous as 3^ears increased upon him. It may not be uninteresting if we subjoin one or two specimens 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 tlii.s 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 there in the streets. Cromwell's reflection occui-red to me : They Avould readily follow and pull mo to pieces, if convicted of exciting undue influence," &c. Another of later date is curious, as giving his own version 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 appointment under 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 pro- ceeds : — " The whole story is false. I picked up two old soldiers, who recognised me, and I placed one on each side of me, to guard my legs and heels; and I desired, if I halted, that they should each of them face outwards, and prevent anybody from approaching my heels. The soldiers were followed by women, children, and men, waving their handkerchiefs. Many men came out and offered 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 was 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 fortunately no mud in the streets, and nothing could be thrown. I passed some carts loaded with coals, with Avhich 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 Q Q 4 600 :,1EM0IR or THE DUKE OF WELLINGTOK that gentleman Avas. I tlioiight tliat lie Avas of service to me, and that he intended it. Certainly, while he folloAved me, the mob could not run in ujion me." It would be unjust to the Duke's uiemoiy, having thus referred to his letter to the Bishop of Durham, were we 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 BisHor, " I have had the honour of ]"eceiving your lordship's letter of the 6th instant. I perfectly recollect having been folloAved by a mob from the Mint to Lincoln's Inn on the 18th of June, 1832. I have heard of indi- Addual 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 piu'sixit. If I could recollect such acts, I should personally feel very grateful. But, my lord, I have been unanimously elected a Master of the Corporation 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 cor- poration, and I cannot use its patronage to reward services rendered to myself personally — particularly if I were in personal danger. But, moreovei", I never have decided upon any question of patronage at the Trinity House, excepting when seated in my place at the board, and I ynust decline," &c. The Duke gave his usual Waterloo dinner this year on the 18th of June, and it was remarked b}^ all his guests, of whom the Prince Consort was the 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 cheerful, 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. Yet 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 H5^de Park. It was not so severe as to dejjrive 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 oAvn apartment, where he lay down. Dr. Hume was sent for, but before he arrived the tit 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 fre- quently 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 consented to have a seton introduced into his neck. This was not the case; but by a rigid TIJi': DUKKS LAST VISIT TO WALMElt. 601 attention to diet, and submission to such treatment as his medical attendants prescribed, he managed to keep the disorder at bay, and the fits occurred more rarely and with less violence. Still the disease was there, and both mind and body, more or less, suffered from it. The irritability of his temper grew painfully upon him, and even his generosity degenerated, on more than one occasion, into weakness. We have elsewhere referred to this subject, ex- tracting, 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 Walmer Castle, to which place the Duke had repaired on the 2oth of August, appa- rently in his usual health. He had previously gone down on the 7th, attended onh/ by his valet, in order to receive the Queen, should her Majesty be disposed to land, on her progress from Osborne to Ostend. But the weather proved boisterous,- and her Majesty preferred 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, how- ever, 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 Grrand Duke and Duchess of Mecklenburg-Strelitz, — the latter a Eussian princess, and daughter of the late Grand Duke Michael. They reached the castle on the 26th, and were met at dinner by Baron Brunnow, the Russian minister at the court of St. James's, and his private secretary ; by the Earl of Clanwilliam, captain of Deal Castle, with the Countess, and their daughter. Lady Selina Meade; by Admiral Sir John Hill, captain of Sandown Castle ; Captain Vincent, E.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 602 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. it for some time, remarked that the Duchess ought likewise to see it. He went immediately into the drawing-room to fetch her ; where- upon the Duke 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 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. Every- thing 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 apartments of the palace at IMecklenburg." Two incidents marked the progress of this little affair, of suffi- cient importance, as it seems to us, to justify the minuteness with which we have detailed it. The first is, that when the engraving was brought to the Duke in the morning, 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 engraving, 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 Grand 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, ^\dth his 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 Duke's movements being dependent on the 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 THE DUKES ILLNESS. fi03 to several of the Duke's friends. It related almost entirely to times gone by, and to persons long removed from the scene of life. It was full of interest, of course, to the pair who joined in it ; and as evincing the clearness of the Duke's mind Avhen 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 under- stand 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, independently of his attachment to the parents, he was exceedingly 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 pursued his usual course, devoting a portion of each morning to his private correspondence, while the eveningjS were spent chiefly in reading. One out of the many letters written by him at this time, contains a sentence Avhich is at least remarkable ; 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 re- tired to bed, apparently in excellent 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 together, 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 G-race ; it is past seven o'clock." " Is it ? " replied the Duke in his usual tone of voice. " Do you know where the apothecary 604 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLIXGTOX. lives ? " " Yes, your Cfrace." " 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 propor- tionable alarm. A messenger was accordingly despatched on horseback for Mr. Hulke, of Deal, who soon arrived, and was in- troduced into the Duke's apartment. Mr. Hulke examined his patient, looking at the tongue and feeling the pulse ; and having pronounced that there Avas no ground for apprehension, advised that he should take a cup of tea, and remain quiet. He prescribed no medicine, because 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 un- easy. By this time the whole household was disturbed, and Lord and Ladv Charles came into the bed-room, whither also Captain Watts soon followed. They all saw that this was no passing fit of indisposition, and at once sent off fresh messengers in search both of Mr. Hulke and of Dr. M'Arthur. The former after a brief in- terval arrived ; the latter, who happened to be from home, did not come till later. An emetic was given, which, however, produced no amelioration of the symptoms, but the reverse; and then calomel, which it appeared had never failed before in relieving such attacks, was administered. Probably neither calomel nor any other remedy, no matter when applied, would have been of tlie smallest avail. The Duke's hour was come; and though with the determination of purpose which belonged to his nature, he seemed to put it from him, the summons had gone forth which admits of no bafiiing. 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 struggles he ceased to breathe. Yet so calm and tranquil was his departure; so little was he changed, even in appearance, that not till a mirror had been held up before his face, could those by whom he was surrounded tell that life was extinct. The alarming nature of the attack xmder which the Duke was THE BODY EEMOVED TO LOXDON. 605 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 started, but could not reach the Castle till all was over. He found but the mortal remains of his illus- trious 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 Douvo, the Duke's eldest son, chanced to be abroad at the time of his father's death. He was immediately in- formed by telegraph of the calamity which had befallen, and tra- velling post, he arrived at the Castle on the 17 th. We draw a veil over all that followed. The great Duke had been the property of the nation while he lived, and the nation claimed the right of dis- posing of his remains now that he was dead. It was determmed 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 inclosed in a shell, was therefore left for a while, under proper care, in the Castle. A guard of honour, composed 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 public 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 pri- vilege, and all, without exception, evinced unmistakable proofs of reverence, many of deep emotion. At six in the evening of the 10th, Lord Douro, the present Duke, arrived, accompanied by Lord Arthur Hay, and by a gentleman from the Lord Chamberlain's office, 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 rail- way station, a guard of the liifle Brigade attending it, and the batteries at Walmer and Deal Castle firing minute guns, Sandown Castle 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 Gfuards was in waiting to receive them, and once more, by the dim light of torches, the melancholy cortege passed on. Many a window was thrown up, that men might gaze on the cavalcade as it moved through the streets; and few, whom the un- accustomed tramp of horses had roused from their sluin1)ers, slept again that night, except with spirits saddened and subdued. 606 MEMOIR OP THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. The procession readied Chelsea about three iu the morning, when the coffin containing the body was carried into the hall of the Royal Military Hospital. That noble apartment, as well as the chapel, had been previously hung 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, weeping 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 I7th, under an escort of cavalry, to the Horse Gruards. There, in the room which had often witnessed his atten- tion to the alfairs 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' 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 watched by high and low, how solemn the notes of the bands, as one after another they took up and poured out the " Dead March in 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 necessary for us to describe. The representatives of all the great Powers of Europe, Austria alone excepted*, were there to do him honour. The rank, talent, station, "^ Austria was at this time oifended by the treatment given to one of her generals liy a mob of draymen. She could not be made to understand that every respectable person in the kingdom lamented the outrage, but that thei-e was no remedy for it except by due cour-^e of law. THE DUKES FUNERAL. 607 and beauty of Grreat Britain joined in the solemn requiem where- with 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, preserved 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. 608 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLIXGTOX. CHAP. XLI. THE DUKE AS A MAX, A SOLDIER, A STATESMAN. — HIS PLATFUINESS. — HIS KIXDELNTISS. — HIS SELF-POSSESSIOX — HIS AVISDOM. If there be any English reader who, after a perusal of this narra- tive, finds it difficult to arrive at a just appreciation 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 drav/ inferences from events as they pass before him, or we have very imperfectly accomplished the task wdiich we ventured to set to ourselves. For the character of the Duke of Wellington was, perhaps, more completely free from dis- guise 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 skill, the state, whose servant he was. Of personal 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 jjastimes. He never taught thera how to construct castles of snow, nor led them to the attack or defence of such castles when constructed. His career at school is so completely without note, that had 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 would 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 simplicity of character which dis- tinguished the man in after years belonged to him in youth ; and that content to do his duty, and to enjoy existence in his own THE DUKES ABSENCE OF DISPLAY. G09 peculiar way, be never made an effort to push himself out of his place, or to attract, in so doing, the gaze or admiration of the multitude. It was this, in our opinion, rather than the absence of natural ability, which rendered the life of Arthur Wellesley, up to the age of twenty-fiTe, so completely a blank. It was spent under cir- cumstances whioh did not suggest to him any sufficient reason for stepping out of the beaten track. That he learned well, and thoroughly understood his duty as a regimental officer, we laiow from the fact that he had not long assumed the command of a battalion before it became the best disciplined in the service. But being conscious of his own defects as an orator, and little relisiiing the system of corruption which prevailed around him while he sat in the Irish Parliament, he appears to have taken no pains to make his influence felt in the House of Commons or out of it. The powers which all this while 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 Flanders who did not treat the reqidre- ments of the campaign as secondary to his own personal wants and humours. Whatever Colonel Wellesley was directed to do, he did energetically and punctually. Everybody else seemed to regard time as something not to be accounted for. 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. We have often heard him criticise that campaign, and always in the same terms. It was the best school to which an officer could be sent, who had sufficient discrimination to observe blunders and the effects of them, and wit enough to take warning from what he saw. Colonel Wellesley obtained, as he deserved, great praise for his conduct in the Low Countries ; yet so little was personal ambition or vanity stirred by it, that he made an effort, as we have seen, immediately on his return to England, to retire from the service. Happily for England, for Europe, and for himself, it proved unsuc- cessful; and India 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 Grovernment and to the jjeople, but which had certainly no direct connection with his own success in his profession ! With what 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 ex- pedition to Egypt I And how ready he was, on every occasion, to E R 610 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTOl^. do justice to merits far inferior to his own, wliile bis own were systematically passed over ! We do not mean to insinuate that all this failed, or could fail, to liear 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 Wellesley. 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 commanded the entire confidence, not only of the Government which employed, but of the men and officers who served under him. There are now lying before us two letters, written in 1802, by a young officer in the Company's service to his relatives at home. They describe the movements of two corps, which at two separate times went out, under Colonel W^ellesley's orders, on special service from Seringapatam ; and each contains this remarkable expression : — " 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 confi- dent and so comfortable." The Duke's Indian correspondence, now before the world in detail, shows that in every situation he paid strict regard to the principle of duty, and to that alone. ^\Tien 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 com- mand 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 meri- torious 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 explains that he, and such as he, are bound to look not to the ties of per- sonal regard, but to the higher requirements of the public service. An offer 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 officer. He points out where the injustice lies, and, professing himself ready to do whatever may be required, THE DUKE'S SYSTEM OF JOBBING. Gil 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 affairs of provinces equal in extent to many European kingdoms, he is appointed to the com- mand 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 replies, " I have eaten the King's salt, and whatever he desu-es me to do that becomes my duty." His Irish administration has, indeed, been described by many writers as disfigured by the grossest jobbery. Is this fair ? Is this candid ? Certainly Sir Arthur Wellesley jobbed ; but let us not forget that in those days Grovernment was avowedly carried on by influence ; and that influence, especially in Ireland, meant pensions, places, and hard cash. It is evident, however, from his manner of dis- pensing these arguments, 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 atmosphere 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 affected 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 Government 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 sub- jected. All his secrets are before the world. Colonel Gurwood's collection of Despatches, as they were called, gave us such an insight into the mind of the writer as had never before been ob- tained into the inner being of any public man. The supple- mentary 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 extraordinary 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 Governments or to guide the counsels of the legislature at home, he seeks the attainment of one 612 MEMOIE OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON". object, and seeks it honestly. He will not arrive at an end justi- fiable in itself, by means whicb cannot be justified. He will never do evil that good may come. He rejects with indignation the use of the dagger when offered 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 Regency is, that they are never true to their engage- ments ; and that in their own persons they refuse to set the ex- ample of that obedience to law and right which they exact, or profess to exact, from the peasantry. He condemns the Spanish Juntas and the Cortes, even while he obeys them, because they are more intent on promoting 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 Parliament, 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 Leofislature and of the Crown seems to him on the eve of dissolu- tion. 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 ex-ainst the Eomans, or had there been in the far East, a people prepared to make the sacrifice which Kussia 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 Wellingrton, and observe in how many particulars these testify to the presence in each of the same temper, the same forethought, the same indomi- table will, the same extraordinary genius for political not less than for military affairs, 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. What 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 JMornington. The former, though subordinate in rank, led the Carthaginians in the field as often as any enter- prise requiring more than common skill and conduct was deter- mined upon; and by his successes enabled Asdrubal to extend the limits of the Cart]iaginia.n empire to the Iberus. The latter, while yet a colonel, pacified the Mysore, and defeated Dhoondiah ; and being one of the youngest major-generals in the country gained the battle of Assaye, and brought the great Mahratta confederation to the feet of the East India Company. 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 characters more and more into parallelism. Hannibal and Wellington were both citizens of free states, of states governed by popular or aristocratic assemblies, in which party and its claims Avere at least as much attended to as the requirements of the public good. Both served Powers which were rather naval than military, which were more ambitious of wealth, more covetous of influence, than bent upon the extension of their territorial limits. Tlie highest ambition of Carthage 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 system was radically unsound, and she was too free and too wealthy to endure a better. What followed ? As soon as Hannibal found himself in independent command, he v/as glad to borrow from the Romans all (hat way K R 4 616 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. best in their system, and to apply it, as far as circumstances would permit, to his own army ; just as Wellington learned many useful lessons from the French, and would have learned more, but that the nature of the Grovernment 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 Grovernment, usually hurried her. And the mercantile element prevailing over the military in her councils, she starved, both in men and means, almost every foreign expedition which 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 the war of the French Revolution ; her armies, raised by voluntary en- listment, were wasted upon enterprises as profitless as they were discursive. When Hannibal broke with the Romans, 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, Portu- guese (Vaccsei, Olcades, Vettones, and others), whom he drilled in the Carthaginian tactics, and officered, in the higher ranks at least, with Carthaginian leaders. If inferior in some respects to the best of his Carthaginian legions, these became, under such manage- ment, excellent troops, and supplied the place of the reinforcements which his own Government was either unable or unwilling to send him. If Wellington had not found in Portugal facilities for re- cruitment, 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 in- adequate. Had not his administrative abilities been of the first order, he never could have begun his march towards Italy. Wel- lington's case, in its leading features, was very much the same. The most serious 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 himself a commissariat, a mint, a foreign trade in corn, magazines, and, above all, a system of transport which never failed him. Even in their special excellences as commanders of troops, there COMPARISON CONTINUED. G17 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 the Douro and the Adour is but the counterpart of Hannibal on the Rhone and the Po ; each crossed where the enemy least expected him, and by means which were as effective as they were hazardous. We may place them side by side also in the care which they took of their troops, and in the forethought which pro- vided 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 W^ellington 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 separates him from his base of operations, leaving him no alternative between complete success and total destruction? and next, did Hannibal, when he invaded Italy, commit this 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 questions will be answered in the negative, by all who understand what wise enterprise is. The second cannot receive a reply in the affirmative, except at the expense of Hanni- bal'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 Talavera ; 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 his army, and operate, at least, a diversion in his favour. It was thus that Han- nibal acted two thousand years before Wellington was born. From the Ebro to the Alps he conquered, and took military possession ; and he crossed the Alps themselves 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 ; while the sea was always open to him, by means of which reinforcements and supplies could at any time reach him from Carthage. Hanni- G18 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. bal 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 moderation 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 WelliDgton 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 Han- nibal 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 inquirer 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 cool- ness, forethought, self-possession, justice; 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 Wellington did; had Wellington filled Hannibal's place in history, the name would have been changed, but the exploits of the Carthaginian com- mander 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 betweenhimand John Duke of Marlborough a parallel generally to the advantage of the latter. 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 doubt- less 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 careless of the health and comforts of his men, and inattentive to matters of detail. When we look closer into THE DUKE AND MAKLBOROUGII CO]\rPARED. G19 the subject, however, it will be seen that there is not much simi- larity in the conditions under which Marlborough and Wellino-ton 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 JMarlborough, for example, assumed the command of an allied army in the Netherlands, after having studied his profession under Turenue 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 certainly not to be spoken of in the same breath with Turenne or William III. The Duke of Marlborough found him- self 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 appoiuted. 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, Villeroy, and Boufflers. The Duke of Wellington was forced to construct for 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 incumbrance to him than the reverse ; 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 opponents were, Soult, Jourdain, JNIassena, Marmont, Victor, and finally Napoleon. Again, Marlborough, when supplies were wanting, made his re- quisitions upon states, which, being under the management of regular Governments, were always able, and generally willing, to furnish whatever might be required. Wellington, on the other hand, was driven to create his own resources, and to provide his own means both of collecting and paying for them. Marlljorougli, supported by the Queen, and backed by the undivided influence of the Eevolution 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 India to guard, no Mediterranean fortresses to garrison. Wellington found it necessary 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 annoyance to 620 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. Marlborough, from which, however, he succeeded at last in deliver- ing himself; but the Portuguese Eegency, and the Juntas, and Cortes of Spain, hung like a mill-stone round the neck of Welling- ton, from the opening to the close of the struggle. We might go further, and refer to the tone which pervades the correspondence of these two men, the one always keeping in view self-aggrandisement, and the interests of party, the other taking no serious thought of anything except the public service, and the best means of promot- ing it. But this is not necessary ; Marlborough and Wellington were both great men, — great in politics, perhaps greater in war ; but except that neither of them ever sustained a defeat, there is little which, to him who examines 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 upon 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 upon Marlborough in this respect was heavy enough. He had to excite the States-General, always 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 dij)lomacy, by dint of great penetration into the characters of others, by winning manners, and the hearty support of Grodolphin and the Duchess Sarah at home. But suc- cess 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 commu- nication, and then to wield them. How it fared with Wellington in these respects in India, in the Spanish Peninsula, and in France, we need not here stop to point out. The place to be allotted to the Duke of Wellington as a leading statesman under a constitutional Grovernment will be determined, as a matter of course, according to the opinions entertained by those who sit in judgment upon him, on certain great constitutional questions. That he was a Eoyalist in every sense of the term, all who came in contact 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 foun- tain, not of honour only, but of all the rights and privileges which 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. Royalist as he was, no man THE duke's political views. G21 Stood up more stoutly for the people and tlieir 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 measures which he believed to be mischievous or unsafe, he opposed them. Hence, too, if the Sove- reign expressed mshes, 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 over-ruled 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 pro- posed by Lord Melbourne for Prince Albert on his marriage, and cut it down from 50,000^. to 30,000^. a year. However unpalatable at the moment this act might be, neither the Sovereign nor the people could mistake his motive, and both the Sovereign and the people gave him in return increased esteem and reverence. For many years after he became a minister, the Duke's place in the Cabinet was a subordinate one. His own tenure of office, as heg,d of an administration, was brief. Yet he contrived in that interval to pass a measure from grappling with which all previous Governments had shrunk. His Catholic Eelief Bill would have been more satisfactory, had he been able to carry it in its original form. But with all the imijerfections which others engrafted upon it, who will speak of it as a blunder? That the Tories of 1829 blundered in breaking off from his guidance, there are probably few survivors of that gallant but headstrong band who will now deny. But surely the blame of subsequent misfortunes, if mis- fortunes we are to consider them, rests, not with him who got rid of an insuperable obstacle to all Government, but with his angry followers, who, to gratify a spirit of revenge, placed him in a minority in the House of Commons, and insured the accession of the WTiigs to office. It is not unusual to hear the Duke condemned, first, for the obstinacy with which he opposed himself to the liberal measures of Lord Grey's Government, and next, for endeavouring to bolster up a system, which the passing of the Eeform Bill of 1832 had ren- dered impracticable. If the plain but authentic tale which we have told of his proceedings on the former of these occasions do 622 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF AYELLINGTOX. not suffice to vindicate him from the charge of blind obstinacy, then must all reasoning on our part be useless. The Duke did not believe that, under the system to be established by Lord Gfrey's Eeform Bill, the prerogatives of the Crown, the rights and privi- leges of the Established Church, the preponderating influence of the landed interest in the Legislature, or the proper ascendency of the mother-country over the colonies could long be preserved. He was likewise of opinion, that in proportion as the popular element gained strength in the Constitution, the foreign policy of England would become vacillating and uncertain. And believing, further, that every change in these directions, besides being evil in itself, would pave the way to other changes still more mischievous, he offered to the Eeform Bill at every stage all the opposition in his power. Was this the act of a blindly obstinate man ? Did he overlook, in so doing, the danger of worse things ; of a revolution effected by physical force, and overthrowing in its progress the last vestige of the institutions to which he was attached ? The Duke did not overlook these things. He had simply no belief in their reality. He knew that the political unions, the moment the}^ took one step in the direction of an armed revolt, would, if the King's ministers proved true to their Sovereign, unite against them all the well-disposed subjects of the Crown ; and that by these, indepen- dently of the standing army, any mad attempt at rebellion would be stamped out. The great object of his opposition, accordingly, was to take the G-overnment at an eventful crisis out of the hands of a body of ministers, who seemed to him unable or unwilling to put down these political unions, and to trust the matter in dispute between them and their opponents to the arbitration of a free Par- liament. But the Duke knew all the while that, from the moment a scheme of parliamentary reform was laid in the King's name, and by the King's ministers, upon the table of the House of Com- mons, some measure of the sort had become a necessity. His resistance was, therefore, not to reform itself, but to that particular degree and kind of reform which the Cabinet had proposed. Which, then, was the obstinate party ? The Duke, who refused to accept a particular measure, or the ministers who, refusing them- selves to modify that measure, and taking steps to prevent its modification by others, brought the country, by their own showing, to the brink of anarchy, and carried their point at last only by vir- tually destroying the House of Lords ? Again, was the Duke right or wrong in the anticipations which he formed as to the inevitable consequences of passing that parti- cular measure of reform. Has any minister since 1832 found it — we do not say an easy task, — but a task of which, from one hour to THE DUKE AS A TOLITICIAN. G23 another, lie has not good cause to doubt whether it will be practic- able — to carry on the Grovernment of this country? Has the Crown the same latitude which it had previously to 1832, in the selection of its constitutional advisers ? In what position, as regards influence in Parliament, are the territorial proprietors of England now j)laced ? Does the Established Church stand upon the ground which she occupied before her property passed into the hands of commissioners ? — before her prelates ceased to own the estates which still nominally belong to their respective sees, and church-rates were paid as cheerfully as any other burden upon property ? So also in regard to the colonial and foreign policy of this country ; is it what it was ? In all these respects the country may have gained, not lost. The Duke's views of what the Consti- tution really is, or ought to be, may be wrong views. It may con- tribute to the well-being of the largest numbers, both at home and abroad, that the political influences of the British Empire are changed. But surely no one can deny that they are changed, and that they are changing daily. Now the Duke dreaded these changes. He expected that they would come on more rapidly than they have done. He feared that they might come with greater violence. Admit that he was wrong in degree, ^ — -was he therefore wrong in substance, and in fact ? But entertaining and even expressing such opinions, why did the Duke interest himself any more in public aflairs ? Why did he not leave events, after the passing of the obnoxious Bill, to take their own course, without striving to stay or even to direct them ? They who ask these questions, cannot understand the nature of him of whom they are speaking. The Duke of Wellington could no more hold aloof from the service of his country, in the war of politics when it went against him, than he could have withdrawn, at the end of an unfavourable campaign, from the command of an army in the field. The strength which the Crown, the aristocracy, and the Church had lost, by the abolition of the system of close boroughs, he endeavoured, in co-operation with Sir Kobert Peel, to supply, by the setting up of new combinations. He was thus a willing party to all the liberal measures which Sir Eobert proposed, up to the last ; and if he yielded his own judgment even on the question of the Corn Laws, it was because he saw that the repeal of those laws had become inevitable, and because he believed that it was better for the country, with or without these laws, to be governed by Conservative statesmen, than by statesmen who were not Con- servative. In all this, as well as in his anticipations of the effects on the general state of society of a more popularised system of government, the Duke may have been mistaken. But because he 624 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTOX. ' entertained such opinions, and did his best to act up to them, the Duke of Wellington's statesmanship no more deserves to be under- valued, than we have a right to undervalue the tenacity of purpose, which induced him to stand fast behind the lines of Torres Vedras, at a time when the rest of the world, including the Government which he served, had given up the cause of European deliverance as lost. On the other hand, the most enthusiastic of his admirers will admit that the habits of his earlier life in some measure dis- qualiiied him from becoming the parliamentary chief of a party in a free state. He was wanting in the tact which statesmen, reared in the House of Commons, usually acquire. He often told the truth, or what he believed to be the truth, too bluntly. He rarely condescended to humour the prejudices of those whom, by a little finesse, he might have carried with him. His declaration against Reform, at the opening of the session of 1828, was, to say the least, very inopportune ; yet, in regard to that particular matter, his views were, in point of fact, in advance of those of other statesmen of his school. Had Lord Liverpool begun to enfranchise populous places, as often as small boroughs laid themselves open to dis- franchisement, the country might have arrived, by degrees, at a state of things which would have obviated all risk of such a crisis as that of 1831, 1832. And to this, as well as to any measure calculated to affect a wise distribution of political influence throughout the country, the Duke would have rendered all the assistance in his power. But of revolutions, whatever shape they might assume, he entertained a constitutional dread ; and he re- sisted the Whig Eeform Bill, because, to use his own language, " it revolutionised all the influences in the country." Of the Duke as an orator, enough has already been said to con- vey a tolerably accurate impression to the mind of a careful reader. He had been many years a regular attendant in the House of Lords, before he ever thought of addressing 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 understanding, but in debate. His speeches, like his letters, are plain, straightforward, and to the purpose. His argu- ments were from time to time well sustained, and even ingenious : as in his censure of Earl .Orey for dissolving Parliament in 1831, and the view which he took of the effect of the laws against Roman 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 THE DUKES PERSONAL APPEARANCE. 625 measure of good sense, and was invariably listened to, both in the House of Lords and elsewhere, with deference and 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 eyebrows, 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 dis- cussion. And when otherwise unable to catch the substance of what was said, he would move as close to the speaker as the cus- toms of the House allowed, and stand till the speech came to a close. Of the Duke's personal peculiarities, both physical and mental, it may be thought that enough has been said elsewhere, yet our portrait would scarcely be complete, were we 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, — we 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 developed, his arms long, and his hands and feet in ex- cellent proportion. 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 expression 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 long face, a Eoman nose, a broad under jaw, with a chin strongly marked, gave him a striking resemblance to more than one of the heroes of antiquity, especially to Julius Csesar. His hair, which was originally coal black, had become white as silver before he died, but to the last there was 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. The writer of this sentence 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 recognised as the commander of the forces, and the impression 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 s s 626 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTOJT. occasions he wore, as a matter of course, 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 ex- pected, grey, if a battle were in preparation or in progress. Over this, that he might be more easily recognised from afar, he often threw a short white cloak, which is still in existence, and may be Been in a glass case at Apsley House. His cocked hat was very low, rising but little above the crown of the head, and he rarely surmounted it with a plume. The boots known as " Wellingtons," were of his own invention, 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 season. In summer he might be recognised, on foot or on horse- back, by his low-crowned narrow-brimmed hat, his white cravat fastened with a silver buckle behind ; his blue frock, white waist- coat, and white 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 Vv'hite lining. His evening attire, except when he was in mourn- ing, consisted of a blue coat with metal buttons, a white cravat and waistcoat, black breeches, and silk stockings, or tight black pantaloons. On these occasions he wore the order of the Garter under tkb left knee, with the Grolden Fleece 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 cuffs, and blue trowsers with a red stripe down the outer seam. Though a bold rider and a fearless driver, it cannot be said that the Duke was either skilful in equitation or an expert whip. 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, we 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 carriage in which he used to be conveyed to and from the Horse Guards, we have already spoken. In the country, before he ceased to be his own charioteer, he was in the habit of driving sometimes a THE DUKE'S MANNER OF LIFE. 627 curricle, sometimes, when his house was full of guests, a sort of char-a-banc. 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 Ninishi, furious. It happened that on one occasion, we 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, we were met by Lord Clanwilliam, who had been the Duke's companion in the curricle. "The Duke gets along," was the remark, " he soon left us behind." " There is no doubt of that," was 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 methodical. He mixed, indeed, freely in the society of London during the season, for everybody desired to have him, and he went everywhere — not in search of personal gratification to himself, but because he knew that others would be gratified by his presence. Indeed he felt, and to his more intimate 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, we had almost said severe. The rooms most plainly furnished in Strathfieldsaye and Walmer Castle were those which he occupied himself. 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 ; apd the bed- ding consisted of a hair mattress, a blanket, and an eider-down fjuilt. At Walmer, his bedroom 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 Prayer-book, a copy of Jeremy Taylor's Holy Living and Dying, and Caesar's Commentaries, lay within his reach, and judging 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 correspondence. No letter, even the most eccentric, remained unanswered. When, indeed, numbers of persons took to writing to him for the mere purpose of obtaining his autograph, he so couched his replies as to meet the peculiarities of each case. There was much originality in, these answers. Some ran thus : — " F.M. the Duke of Wellington 8 s 2 628 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OP WELLINGTON. regrets that it is not in his power, &c. &c. He is one of the few persons in this country who don't meddle with matters with which 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 Strathfieldsaye, 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: — " F. M. the Duke 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 letter : — " May it please your Grace, I have taken the liberty of requesting your opinion — Was Napoleon guilty or not of the murder of his prisoners at Jaffa ? and if there is any military law or circumstance that would justify the deed?" The following was the Duke's answer : — " F. M. the Duke of Wellington presents his compli- ments 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 subscribe to their works. His answer was always the same. " F. 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 in- formed 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 received by return of post the following answer : — "London, 9tli November, 1826. "Dear Sir, "I have this clay received your letter of the 7tli inst., and I beg to assure joxx that you Lave been correctly informed that I had read jour work with the greatest interest, and that I admired the simplicity and truth with Avhich you had related the various events which you had witnessed : the scenes in which joii had been an actor, and the circumstances 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 oi")portunity of testifying my sense of the merits of your work by consenting to the dedication to me of the second THE DUKE S LETTER TO A YOUNG AUTHOR. 629 edition, only that I have long been under the necessity of declining to give a formal consent 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 Avork 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. From 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, and to give my sanction, so far as to consent to receive the compliment of their dedi- cation 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 offered 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, therefore, taken the idlest and the shortest Avay of getting out of this difficulty, by declining to give a formal consent to receive the dedication of any work. This mode of proceeding frequently gives me great pain ; but in no instance has it given more than on this occasion, as you will perceive by the ti'ouble which I give you to penise, and myself to write, these reasons for de- clining to give a formal consent to accept the compliment which you have been so kind as to proj)ose to me. " 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, " Youi-s most faithfully, " Wellington". " I was informed when I landed 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 Grey's Reform Bill was, as we have seen, immense. If printed in detail it would fill volumes ; Lut a few specimens, merely to show upon what principle he acted, both as a public man and as an indivi- dual, may be with perfect propriety inserted here. At a moment when the public mind was at the height of its agitation, the individual to whom the Duke wrote so kindly on the subject of his book, took the liberty of expressing by letter a wish that certain concessions should be made. The following is the Duke's reply : — S S 3 630 MEMOIE OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. "London, 11th April, 1831. '' Mv BEAR , " I received your letters of tlie 8tli and 9tli. It is curious enougli that I, who have been the greatest reformer on earth, should be held up as an enemy to all reform. This assertion is neither more nor less than one of the lying cries of the day. " If by reform is meant Parliamentary reform, or a change in the mode or system of representation, what I have said is, tliat I have never heard of a plan that Avas safe and practicable that would give satisfaction, and that while I was in office I should oppose myself to reform in Parliament. This was in answer to Lord Grey on the first day of the session, I am still of the same opinion. I think that Parliament has done its duty : that con- stituted as Parliament is, having in it as a member every man noted in the country for his fortime, his talents, his science, his industry, or his influence ; the first men of all professions, in all branches of trade and manu&cture, connected with our colonies and settlements abroad, and representing, as it does, all the states of the United Kingdom, the Govern- ment 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 Ave were to lose for a day the protection of Government. " That is the gi-ound upon Avhich I stand with respect to the question of reform in general. I have more experience in the GoA'ernment of this country than any man now alive, as well as in foreign countries. I have no borough influence 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 political power by persevering in the course which I have taken. But nothing shall induce me to utter a word, either in public or in private, that I don't belie\'e 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 A^oice, I Avill 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 Avas the most important. We talk of unrepresented great toAvns ! These are toAvns Avhich haA^e all the benefit of being goA^erned by the system of the British Constitution Avithout the evil of elections. Look at Scotland. Does Scotland suffer 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 grievance by many in that country. I can ansAver for there being many respectable men in Manchester, and I believe there are some in Birmingham and Leeds, Avho are adverse to change. " But hoAv is this change to be made ? Either by adding to the THE DUKES LETTER ON REFOEM. 631 number of representatives in Parliament from England, or by disfran- chising what are called the rotten boroughs ! The first cannot be done Avithout a departure 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 toAvns. The last would be, in my opinion, a violation of the first and most im- portant principle of the Constitution, for no vahd reason, and upon no gi'ound 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 what party, who would preserve the state of property as it is ; who Avould maintain by their votes the Chui-ch of England, its possessions, its churches and universities, all our great institutions and corporations, the union with Scotland and Ireland, the connection of the country Avith its foreign colonies and possessions, the national honour abroad and its good faith Avith the King's subjects at home. I see men at the back of the Go- vernment to enable it to protect individuals and their property against the injustice of the times, Avhich would sacrifice all rights and all pro- perty to a description of plunder called general convenience and utility. I think it is the presence of this description of men in Parliament Avith the country gentlemen, and the great merchants, bankers, and manu- facturers, which constitutes the great difference 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 proprietors of the country participate in political poAver. I don't think that we could spare thii'ty or forty of these representatives, or change them Avith advantage for thirty or forty members elected for the great towns by any new system. I am certain that the country Avould bo injured by depriving men of great property of political poAver, besides the injury done to it by exposing the House of Coimuons to a greater degree of popular influence. " You Avill observe that I have noAV considered only the smallest of all reforms — a reform Avhich would satisfy nobody. Yet it cannot be adopted without a serioixs departure from principle (principle in the njaintenance of which the smallest as Avell as the greatest of us is interested), and by run- ning all the risks of those misfortunes Avhich all Avisli to avoid. " I tell you that we must not risk our great institutions and large pro- perties, personal as Avell 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 Avill not feel the consequences of this rashness. This opinion is founded not on reasoning only, but on experience, and I shall never cease to declare it." We have described, in anotlier place, the risk which the Duke ran, in visiting Walmer Castle after the Eeform Bill had been throAvn out in the House of Lords, and the manner in which he evaded it. The folloAving is his answer to the letter Avhich warned s B 4 632 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OP WELLINGTON. him of his danger, and described, at the same time, the source whence his correspondent had received his information : — "London, 7th Nov. 1831. " I received only yesterday morning, on my road to London, your letter of the 4tli inst. It is my duty to go to "Walmer and to Dover, and I am not to be prevented from doing so, either by threats of insult or injury. Wliat I always do in these cases is to give information to the magistrate. It is his duty to protect all his Majesty's subjects, par- ticularly those acting under the King's authority ; and even to take pre- cautions for their protection, if necessary. "It is my opinion that these secret informants, who will not, and probably dare not, come forward with their information, do more harm than good. There is a perpetual gossip going on in the public-houses upon all sorts of plans of mischief. Is it quite certain that these informants do not suggest the very plans of which they give information ? ^' I intended to be at "Walmer this night, but a letter which I sent to announce my arrival did not go. I shall, therefore, set off to-morrow morning, and I hope to arrive early in the day. I siispect that those who •will attack me on the road will come rather the worst out of the con- test, if there should be one," Everybody at that time had some suggestion to make ; and the Duke's correspondent having, among other things, consulted him on the propriety of endeavouring to form constitutional societies, received the following answer : — " I quite concur in all that you suggest as steps to be taken, with the exception of the formation of societies. "We must never forget the Roman Catholic Association in Ii'eland, 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." The writer of this memoir was, in 1834, presented by Lord John Eussell to the chaplaincy of Chelsea Hospitiil. As the offer 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 opinions entertained by the object of his kindness, the circumstance naturally excited some surprise ; and the same post which conveyed to his lordship the writer's acknowledgments, carried a letter to the Duke, stating how the case stood, and ven- turing to ask advice. He received, with the least delay possible, the following answer : — " Strathfleldsaye, 12th February, 183-i. *' I was in town 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. THE DUKES PATIENT INDUSTRY. G33 " 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 poli- tician ; but that I did not believe you had ever been a party-wi'iter ; that when I was in office I was anxious to promote yovi in the Church * * * * * and that I had earnestly urged you, by all means in your jiower, to avoid party-discussions ; that I never heard of your having en- gaged 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 resulting fi-om it. " I shall be very sorry to lose your society at Walmer Castle, but I hope that I shall see you in London." One more specimen, in rather a different style, and we 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 kingdoms ; and one of these, hoping to engage the Duke's opposition to it, called his attention to its assumed defects. The following was the Duke's answer: — "London, 12tli Jime, 1836. " The question of the Scotch universities has not escaped my attention. Care is taken that nothing shoiild. Neither has it escaped me 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 should 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 resorted, 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. 634 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OP WELLINGTON. A volume might be filled with anecdotes illustrative of various points in the Duke's character; of his playfulness, his kindly dis- position, his perfect self-possession in moments of danger and diffi- culty, and of his severe wisdom. We have ourselves heard him say, half jocularly, that all his life long he had been a Jonas; for he never undertook a voyage at sea without encountering a storm. Others said of him that under such circumstances he was as cool and collected as if in a calm. Greneral Alava has left it on record, that on the evening after the battle of Quatre-Bras, he found the Duke by the road side, receiving reports of the enemy's move- ments, and of the results of the action at Ligny. Alava, who had listened to all sorts of sinister rumours, approached him timidly, but was at once reassured when greeted in the following strain : " Well, Alava, were you at the Duchess of Eichmond's party last night ? " 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, were not you surprised at Waterloo ? " The Duke smiled, and answered : " No ; but I am now." When Sir De Lacy Evans with his legion was carrying on mili- tary operations near San Sebastian, the Duke was asked : " What will all this produce ? " His ansvrer was : " Probably two volumes octavo." The Commissioners for the Provisional Government having announced to him, in 1815, that the empire was at an end, he replied : *' I knew that a year ago." It is told of him that when a colonial bishop wrote home to re- monstrate because guards were not turned out to him, and sentries instructed to salute, the Duke, on being consulted by the Secretary of State, made this minute: "The only attention which soldiers are to pay to the bishop must be to his sermons." Sometimes his graver sayings carried a sting in their wit. The late Sir William Allan used to tell with great glee, that being sent for to receive the price of his picture of the Battle of Water- loo, he found the Duke busy counting over whole piles of bank- notes. Allan, willing to save the Duke's time, observed that a cheque upon his Gfrace's banker would serve his purpose ; where- upon the Duke, not over pleased at being interrupted in his cal- culations, looked up and said : " Do you think I am going to let Coutts's people know what a d d fool I have been? " On the occasion of a regiment of cavalry being ordered imex- pectedly to the Cape of Gfood Hojoe, one of the officers, not re- markable for zeal in the performance of his duty, applied for leave to remain at home. The Duke's answer was very laconic : "Sail or sell." THE DUKE S KINDLINESS. G35 Of his kindly disposition the following are manifestations. An old gentleman of the name of Eobertson desired one day particu- larly 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 seeinof the Duke, and that he had travelled from Scotland for that single purpose. Touched with the old man's manner, the Duke not only expressed his own gratification, but begged Mr. Eobert- son to stay and dine with him. " Many thanks," replied the old Scot, " I can't do that. I have seen your Grrace, and have now nothinor 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 Walmer 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 deserving it : but nothing would induce him to omit the practice. But perhaps the most touching testimony to his gentleness, is that which 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 embarrassment 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 Grrace standing before me said, ' Well, Mr. Oastler, what is it you wish to say to me ? ' I observed, ' It is very strange that I should sit while the Duke of Wellington 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 Grace said. We shall never get on if you are embarrassed. Forget that you are here ; fancy yourself talking with one of your neighbours at Fixby, and proceed.' " It is not worth 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 self-possession in circumstances the most critical, was marvellous. While the French and English armies were mov- 636 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. ing on parallel lines, just before the battle of Salamanca, he placed himself in the early morning on a hill, whence he could see all that was going on. He had with him, besides the head-quarter staff, one or two mounted officers from each division, ready to carry orders to their respective chiefs. It was during that interval, when both sides were pushing to take possession of the Arapiles ; and when the fate of the battle appeared to hang upon success in that endeavour. The Duke and his followers breakfasted on the hill side; and at the conclusion of the meal the Duke said to Lord Fitzroy Somerset, " I am going to take a sleep. Do you see that copse ? " pointing to a little wood a good way ahead of the French column of march. " As soon as the enemy reach it, call me." The Duke then wrapped himself in his cloak, withdrew behind a bush, and was fast asleep in a moment. Meanwhile the staff smoked their cigars, drank some glasses of wine, and chatted and laughed, till Lord Fitzroy, suddenly, as it appeared, remembering the Duke's instructions, asked for a telescope, and turned it to- wards the copse. The head of the French column was just passing it. He called the Duke, who sprang up, looked through his telescope, and said in a quiet tone, " Now, gentlemen, you must mount, and be off to your divisions ; and tell Packenham to attack immediately." The attack was made, and 40,000 men were beaten in forty minutes. The Duke held that, for the sake of the army, and of the public service, he was bound to take as much care of his own health as circumstances would allow. He made a point, therefore, of securing, whenever it could be had, six hours' sound sleep at night. With this view he caused one of his aides-de-camp to sleep in an outer room, if they were under a roof, and in his outer tent if they were en- camped, giving him strict orders not to bring anybody into his own chamber till the business should have been explained ; and if the business did not seem to be urgent, not to introduce him till the Duke got up. At that critical period when he was retreating from Burgos, and Soult with a very superior force pressed him hard. Sir Willoughby Gordon came into the aide-de-camp's room one morning about two o'clock, and desired to be taken to the Duke. Colin Campbell was on duty that night, and requested to be made acquainted with the nature of Gordon's business ; which the latter, after a good deal of reluctance, explained. He came to tell the Duke that the enemy were interposing between him and Ciudad Eodrigo, and that the communications of the army were in danger. Hearing this, Campbell went in and awoke the Duke. "What does he say?" asked the Duke, sitting up. " Hand me the map, it lies THE DUKES SELF-POSSESSION. 637 Upon the table." The map was handed, and a light held that the Duke might examine it. " The thing's impossible," said the Duke, " the French were forty miles from Eodrigo at seven o'clock last night; and they can't be upon our communications now, unless they had wings." So saying he laid his head upon the pillow, and was asleej) again in a moment. It turned out, from a subsequent report, of which Colonel Arentschildt was the bearer, that for the apprehensions entertained by the chief of the staff there was some excuse. A body of French cavalry had made their way between Arentschildt's outposts and Eodrigo ; but it was not of great strength, for Arentschildt attacked it with his pickets, and put it to the rout, killing a colonel, and bringing in sixty or seventy prisoners. It was not, however, in consequence of having proved his own superiority over them, that the Duke arrived at the conclusion that he had little to dread from either French skill or French valour. Mr. Croker, in an article contributed by him to the "Quarterly Eeview," relates the following anecdote: — *'He dined in Harley Street one day, in June 1808, just before he set out to the command of the expedition which was assembling in Cork harbour. The ladies had withdrawn, and he sat tete-a-tete with his host, and was silent. On being asked what he was thinking of, he 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 outmanoeuvre me. In the first place, I am not afraid of them, as everybody else seems to be ; and secondly, if what I hear of their system of manoeuvres be true, I think it a false one against troops steady enough, as I hope mine are, to receive them \vith the bayonet. I suspect that all the Continental armies were more than half beaten before the battle began. I, at least, will not be frightened beforehand." " They who were nearest to the Duke," says M. Brialmont, " and observed him most closely, during the memorable 18th of June, testify that, though he found himself for the first time in presence of that extraordinary man, and of that incomparable French army which had heretofore triumphed over united Europe, he never exhibited the faintest symptoms of emotion." The Duke's wisdom, like that of other wise men, was shown more in his life than in his conversation : yet certain sayings of G38 MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. his have passed into aphorisms, and will never be forgotten while the English language exists. Here are a few of them : — *' A great country ouglit never to make little wars. " Be discreet in all things, and so render it unnecessary to be myste- rious about any. " The history of a battle is like the history of a ball. " Animosity among nations ought to cease Avhen hostilities come to an end. " He is most to blame who breaks the law, no matter what the provo- cation 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." A story is told of the Duke, during the progress of the battle of Waterloo, which we must not pass by. While he was watching the French formations, an officer of artillery rode up, and pointing to the place where Napoleon stood with his staff, observed, "that he could easily reach them, and had no doubt that he would be able to knock some of them over." " No, no," replied the Duke, " generals commanding armies in a great battle have something else to do than to shoot at one another." In this respect his principle of action differed entirely from that of Napoleon, who never failed to direct his artillery against a group of mounted officers, as often as they came within range. Take the following example. At the battle of Dresden Moreau was aide-de-camp to Alexander, Emperor of Eussia. He had been earnestly entreated by the Em- peror's sister, the Grand Duchess Catherine of Wurtemburg, to pre- vent the Emperor from unnecessarily exposing himself; and it was while endeavouring to execute her wishes that Moreau met his death. The staff, a brilliant crowd, had attracted Napoleon's notice. Two guns stood near him, and he desired the officer commanding to send a ball into the covey. It fell so near the Emperor Alexander that Moreau, remembering the injunction which he had received, begged his Imperial Majesty to ride on. But the Emperor, being deaf in one ear, did not apprehend what was said, and reared back his horse in order that he might catch the observation when repeated. His doing so exposed Moreau, just as the second gun was fired, the ball from which killed him and his horse. It would have struck the Emperor Alexander had he remained where he was when first addressed. The Duke dined one day in Paris with M. Cambaceres, one of the most renowned gourmets of France. The host having pressed a recherche dish upon the Duke, asked eagerly, when the plate was cleared, how he had liked it. " It was excellent," replied the Duke; THE DUKE A MEMBER OF THE ROYAL SOCIETY. G39 "but to tell you the truth, I don't much care what I eat." "G-ood heavens ! " exclaimed Cambaceres, " don't care what you eat ! Why then did you come here?" The' Duke was fond of talking of his IndianVars, and spoke well of the sepo}' s as they were in his day. He used to say that " they were very like the Portuguese. They would go anywhere, and do anything, when led by British officers and supported by British troops." It is a singular fact in this great man's history, that he never lost a gun to the enemy. " Keturning with him one day from the hunting-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 accu- racy; somewhere about 3000, I should guess. At Oporto, after the passage of the Douro, I took the entire siege-train of the enemy ; at Vittoria and Waterloo I took every gun they had in the field. "VMiat, 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 Portu- guese cavalry, were captured in a trifling affair near JNIadrid, but they were recovered the next day. In the Pyrenees, Lord Hill found himself obliged to throw eight or nine guns over a pre- cipice; 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 meaning appears scarcely to have been understood, but the wish being repeated, the Royal Society at once, and with peculiar satisfaction, received him into the list of its fellows. He was proposed by the late Marquis of Northamp- ton, and seconded by Sir Robert Harry Inglis, and he seems to have been better pleased with this distinction, than with many others which had been conferred upon him by some of the sove- reigns and peoples whom he had served. Again we find him brought into contrast with Napoleon, 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 myself 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, singu- larly 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 lye of a GiO MEMOIR OF THE DUKE OF WELLmGTOK district beyond tlie limits to which his gaze extended. This was shown upon one occasion in rather a curious way. He was going to visit a friend in Eutlandshire, and finding that Mr. Croker had received an invitation to the same house, he offered him a seat in his carriage. The offer was accepted, as a matter of course, 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 several ranges of hills and downs, as they approached them. The Duke's guesses proved on all occa- sions to be so correct, that Mr. Croker at last demanded the reason for their accuracy. " The reason ? " replied the Duke. " Why what have I been doing for the greater part of my life, except that which we are doing now ; trying to make out from what I saw the shape of the 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 reconnoissances before the enemy, but when returning home from the hunting field near Strathfieldsaye. 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 re- quested by the Grovernment 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 gazeteer." 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." We 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 our 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 me- mory of the Duke of Wellington is held. 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 English throne. APPENDIX. M. BRIALMONT S ESTIMATE OF THE DUKE S MILITARY CHARACTER. After having described in detail the events of a life so remarkable and so well-accomplished as that of the Duke of Wellington, it remains for ns to set forth, in the form of a summary judgment, the impression which has been made upon us, by a carefol study of the actions, the laboixrs, and the character of that great man. And in order that we may not be ac- cused of sitting down to this examination in a spirit either too lenient or too rigorous, we shall take care to supj^ort each of our assertions with irrefragable i^roofs, deliberately and cautiously collected. This condensed synthesis will have the effect of making generally known a man as yet very inaccurately estimated ; although all his acts were per- formed in broad daylight, and he never attempted to disguise a single error or a single weakness. " The foremost quality in a general," says Napoleon, " is that he shall have a cool head, which receives just impressions of things ; which is never confiised, nor allows itself to be dazzled or intoxicated by good or bad news." Wellington possessed in a high degree all these valuable qualities. Calm, cool, ever master of himself, yet capable of vigorous action, nature had made him for war. Endowed with excellent health, with a rapid coxqi cToeil, with great intelligence, with an exhaustless fecundity of ideas, with a spirit of observation, of order, and of foresight, which neglected nothing, he possessed, over and above these qtialities, that which is more rare, namely the faculty of arriving at a prompt decision amidst unlooked- for circumstances, and of accepting resolutely the responsibility of the gravest action. He never exhibited greater perspicacity, or a judgment more clear and more firm, than when called upon to decide in the most delicate affairs, either of policy or of strategy. Surrounded by the em- barrassments of a war so difficult, and in which everything seemed to conspire for his destruction, amidst the wavering action of the English Government, the hostility of the Spanish population, the unskilfulness of the Portuguese regency, the sufferings and weakness of the allied troops, T T 642 APPENDfx. the constantly increasing strength of the enemy, the talents of their gene- rals, the pitiable condition of the Spanish army, always beaten, yet always ready to fall again into the same mistakes, no one ever saw Wellington discouraged or even affected by his position. His discontent and his complaints were exhibited only in his correspondence.* On the field of battle and in the presence of his subordinates he appeared perfectly at his ease, and full of confidence. If by chance some imlooked-for danger, one of those incidents which occiu- in all battles, and are the touchstone of military genius, befell to complicate his situation, he knew how to profit by it on the instant, and to tm-n to his own advantage that which would have destroyed a general less able or less confident than himself But for this rapid coup d'oeil, and promptitude of action, he would have sus- tained a defeat after Talavera, at Salamanca, at Orthez, and perhaps at Waterloo. Wellington was especially skilful in unravelling the designs of his op- ponents. " Impenetrable in his own purposes," says the author of the memoii's of Massenaf, "he divined those of the enemy, and appreciated them justly, though it might be slowly." M. Thiers confirms this judg- ment by a significant fact. When Massena Avas before the lines of Torres Vedras, the English Government required Wellington to say whether it might not be possible to withdraw the fleet of transports, which cost upwards of seventy-five millions of francs a year. The Duke replied, that " certainly it would be possible, but that, nevertheless, it would be prudent to leave them where they were, though he hoped that he should have no occasion for them." He added, says M. Thiers, and it did the greatest credit to his political intelligence, that probably Marshal Massena would be supported from the side of Castile feebly, from that of Andalusia not at all.;}: Everything fell out as Wellington had foreseen. In 1812, Napoleon and Berthier imagined that the Duke of Eagusa, by assuming an offensive attitude at Salamanca, woxild hinder Wellington from laying siege to Badajoz. § Marshal Marmont, appreciating the saga- city of his opponent, replied, that the English general was not to be duped by any such demonstration, and that the only means of saving Badajoz would be to establish three divisions of the army of Portugal in the valley of the Tagus. || The event justified the opinion. Personal courage, which was so necessary in the generals of antiquity, is no longer the chief qualification in the commanders of modern armies. Wellington, therefore, made no effort to distinguish himself by brilliant * More than once he announced his intention of qiiittiug Spain, and leaving the Peninsula to its fate ; but his letters had generally for their object to overcome the obstinacy of the ministers, or to hasten operations in the success of which he was interested. t General Kock, t. vii. p. 173. The opinion of that general is the more valuable, that he is for the most part unjust towards the Duke of Wellington. I Histoire du Consulat et de I'Empire, t. iii. p. 417. § See among others Bcrthier's letter to Marmont, February, 1812, Memoirs of the Due de Ragusa, t. iv. p. 306. II Letter of the 23rd of February, 1812, to the Prince of Neufchatel, in the memoirs of the Duke of Eagusa, t. iv. p. 312. THE DUKES PEKSONAL COUKAGE. G43 personal achievements. * Nevertheless, as often as his presence on a point of danger or at the head of a colunni of attack was necessaiy, he exposed himself gallantly. At the battle of Assaye he had two horses killed under him. In 1811, when advancing with Beresford and a few officers to reconnoitre IVIarmont, who was preparing to cross the Douro, he got sur- rounded by a small body of cavalry, and made his way through them sAvord in hand, j" At Salamanca he received a contusion on the thigh and a ball through the hat. At the siege of Burgos he often exposed himself in the trenches, and escaped, says Sherer, only by a miracle. At the battle of Orthez, a spent ball gave him a contusion on the lower part of the thigh, and the same day, when reconnoitring Marshal Soult's position from a height, he served for some time as a mark to the French artillery. Finally, during the memorable battle of Waterloo, he showed himself on every part of the field where the presence of the chief seemed to be neces- sary. Never, perhaps, had he exposed himself so lavishly ; the greater number of the officers in attendance on him were killed or wounded at his side. In the midst of scenes the most agitating, Wellington retained his self- possession unmoved. Neither success nor its opposite seemed much to affect him. " I foimd myself near him," says Napier, " on the evening of Salamanca, when the blaze of artillery and musketry, flashing up as far as the eye could reach, made apparent all that he had gained. He was alone, the light of victory shone upon his forehead, his glance Avas quick and penetrating, but his voice was calm and even sweet." So also he appeared on various occasions at Talavera, at Busaco, at El-Bodon, at Sauroren, at Orthez, at Waterloo. He watched everything without manifesting the slightest agitation, and received tidings of the events of the battle, satisfactory or otherwise, with the impassibility of a man Avho had foreseen all, had calculated all, and could not be taken by surprise. If he had been the mere spoilt child of fortime, as he has so often been called, this never could have occurred, because luilooked-for successes astonish, and not unfrequcntly confuse, those who achieve them. No doubt fortune enters largely into the events of war, but, Avhatever certain authors may say to the contrary, no human being ever trusted less to accident than the Duke of Wellington. He was of opinion that, in war as in eveiything else, success depends much more upon the steady ob- servance of rules than upon momentary inspiration, or the exceptional concurrence of favourable circtimstances. Again, though deficient neither in determination nor in audacity, and though his natui'al temperament impelled him to hazardous enterprise, his reason led him to give the jwe- * Wellington in some measiu-e drew his own portrait in the following lines, addressed on the loth of May, 1811, to General Campbell: "The desire to be forward in the engagement of an enemy is not uncommon in the British army ; but that quality whicli I wish to see the oflBcers possess who are at the head of the troops, is a cool dis- criminating judgment in action, which will enable them to decide with promptitude how far they can and ought to go with propriety." t See his letter of the 6th of November, 1811, to Lieutenant-Colonel Torrens, That accident was the result of a surpi'ise occasioned by the similarity in the head- gear of the 3rd English Hussars and the French Chasseurs-a-Cheval. T T 2 644 APPENDIX. ference to means more slow perhaps, but, as experience demonstrated, more certain in tlieir issues. He calciilated with rare sagacity the pro- bable result of his own strategical operations, and did not make up his mind to execute them till he saw reason to count, his own geniiis aiding him, on a successful event. This prudence has caused several French authors to allege that Wellington was deficient in enterprise, and that he endeavoured to make amends for the want of a natural genius for com- mand by an excess of precaution unworthy of a true Avarrior. M. Thiers assumes, that the Duke, according to his custom, was unwilling to fight except a coiq) sure ; that is to say, in defensive positions well nigh im- pregnable, with a numerical superiority which, being added to an excel- lent choice of ground, made the result as certain as anything can be in Avar.* The same judgment has been pronounced by Colonel Koch, in the memoirs of Marshal Massena : — "The first and true merit of Welling- ton," he says, " is that he never undertook an oj)eration except li coxap sure.'\ He never stood upon uncertain ground ; in a word, he added to the diplomatic ability and some of the qualities of Marlborough the faults with which the Duke of York stands charged." \ These two quotations, taken from authors comparatively more just to the English general than the majority of their countrymen, testify how deep-seated in France is the opinion that Wellington was wanting in enterjjrise and hardihood. In the preceding volume we have refuted this opinion, by the statement of undeniable facts. To those who may not retain these facts immediately in their recollection, we shall content ourselves by addressing the following questions, leaving to their own good faith the task of replying to them : — Was he a timid general who, on the plains of Assay e, with 7500 men, of whom only 1500 were Europeans, and with 17 pieces of cannon, attacked 50,000 Mahratta soldiers strongly intrenched, covered by a river, and protected by 100 pieces of cannon ? Was he a timid general who, on the plains of Argaum, after marching nine leagues under a tropical sun, threw himself upon the united forces of Scindiah and the Rajah of Berar, put them to the rout, and vigorously followed them up by the light of the moon ? Was he a timid general who had no sooner landed with 9000 men, at the mouth of the Mondego, than he decided upon marching against Junot, v/hom he believed to be at the head of a force double in point of numl:)ers to his own ? § who, previously to the battle of Viniiero, proposed to turn the position of Torres Vedras by a flank march along the sea, an operation of which Generals Burrard, Dalrymple, and Clinton disapproved * History of the Consulate and of the Empii-e, h. xlii. p. 101. t Memoirs of Massena, t. vii. p. 450. \ Ibid, t. vii. p. 173. § General Thiebaidt, who reproaches Wellington with having saved the army of Junot owing to his slowness, forgets that with the English corps there were no more than one hundred horses present; that the staff and the administration were alike wanting in experience ; and that, under such circumstances, it was an act of no common audacity to make a movement in advance at all. Had Wellington been a timid gene- ral, he would have waited for the troops which were to co-operate with him. THE DUKE NEVEE TTMID. 645 ■because of its excessive rashness ? and who, finally, after the battle, nnder- took, though still in vain, to cut off the French from Lisbon, by seizing Torres Vedras and Mafra, a plan which Naj)ier describes as one of those prompt and bold combinations which only great generals either form or execute ? Was he a timid general who, destitute of a bridge equipment, effected the passage of the Douro in the face of Soult's army, an operation which the Duke of Dalmatia considered to be impracticable, and which, according to the author of the memoirs of Joseph, was an act of " insane rashness"?* Was he a timid general Avho, at the head of 50,000 men, of whom 30,000 were Spaniards Avholly undisciplined, marched upon Madrid, and on the plains of Talavera withstood the shock of the French armies ? ^ And when, after this latter combat, 90,000 French troops occupied the valley of the Tagus, intending to march upon Lisbon, was it the act of a general destitute of enterprise to halt nine days with 17,000 famishing soldiers at Jaraicejo, in order that he might again assume the offensive in the event of their carrying their project into effect ? | Wonderful bold- ness ! — absolute folly, which we are far from representing as meritorioiis in the English general ; but which, on the other hand, affords ample proof that he was certainly not a timid man. ]\Iore than courage, hardihood was needed to induce him to wait for INIasscna at Fuentes d'Onoro, with an army weakened by the departure of Beresford, and in a very bad position, with Almeida in his rear still held by the enemy, and the rocky river Coa, into which, had a reverse occurred, the Allied army would have been driven in irretrievable confusion. Not less striking is the determination at which Wellington arrived, to lay siege to Badajoz, midway between the armies of Soult and Marmont, each as strong as that of the Anglo-Portuguese§ , and immediately after- Avards to take wp a position at Campo Mayor, wath a view to give battle to both armies united. || With the same hardihood, the same coolness, he awaited in 1811, at Guinaldo, the attack of 30,000 Frenchmen, to whom he could oppose only 13,000 men, both his wings being as yet many leagues in the rear. We have seen also how AVellington astonished Soult by the audacity Avith which he carried the Picurina fort at Badajoz, without pausing to breach it, and by his assaulting the town itself before either the counter- scarp had been thrown down, or the fire of the place subdued. Most audacious also was the plan which comprehended not only the capture of Rodrigo and Badajoz in presence of the armies of the centre and of the south, but the invasion of Andalusia afterwards, the repulse of * Memoirs of Joseph, t. vi. t On that operation the author of the " Victories and Conquests of the French Armies " delivers the folio \ving judgment : "The Anglo-Portuguese, after the evacuation of Portugal, conceived a plan, the hardihood of which contrasts strongly with the hahi- tual circumspection of British generals. ... In his rash presumption, Sir Ai-thur Wellesley believed," &c. &c. — B. xix. p. 277. I This plan, proposed by Soult, was ovei-nxled by Ney and Joseph. § This siege must not be confounded with that of 1812. li The battle did not take place only because Soult and Marmont, in spite of their numerical superiority, exhibited much less hardihood tlian Wellington. T T 3 646 ArPENDIX. Soiilt beyond the Guadalqiiiver, and the destruction of the French arsenal at Seville.* The sm-prise of Almaraz by 6000 men under the orders of General Hill, affords another proof of the boldness which Wellington coiUd display, when common means failed him, and when he was hard pressed by cir- cumstances."!" The brilliant offensive movements Avhich resulted in the battle of Salamanca entered so little into the calculations of the French generals, that on the oOth of June, 1812, Marshal Suchet wrote to the king, "I doubt whether in the actual state of England, Wellington dare risk a battle; he has too much to lose, and the French may obtain too much glory, for him to hazard an engagement so far from his ships." | The Duke's flank march upon the Ai-apiles in presence of the French army, on the 15th of November, 1812, was imprudent even to temerity. It succeeded only because Soult lost the opportunity of rendering it disastrous. We may quote again Wellington's prompt determination to cross the bridge at Burgos, under the fire of the castle, with a superior enemy threatening him; and his admirable march of concentration in May, 1813, by which he made himself master of the Douro. In order to execute that march, 40,000 men of all arras, under the orders of Graham, with horses, guns, and pontoons, were obliged to cross a district considered up to that moment impracticable even for light corps. § And here, too, we may call to mind the skill with which Wellington, after having outwitted the Duke of Dalmatia, crossed the Bidassoa, on the 7th of October, 1813. If that operation had not succeeded, the rising tide must have placed the English troops in a desperate situation, for there was no retreat for them except by the fords and at low Avater. * This plan would have been carried into effect, had not circumstances compelled Wellington to caiTy the war into the north, and effect his great object in another manner. t General Sarrazin, formerly chief of the staff, and Bernadotte, describe that opera- tion as rash. — P. 237. I He was not the only one who entertained this opinion. Soult, in a letter to King Joseph, dated May 26th, 1812, says : " It is certain that Wellington will march upon Andalusia, in order to compel the army of the south to raise the siege of Cadiz." The Kino- and Berthier were equally mistaken. Finally Dorsenne, wi-iting to the Duke of Kagusa on the 23rd of January, says : " The English would deviate from their ordi- nary prudence, if they were to march with all their force upon Salamanca ; they would offer to us too many advantages, and would find good reason to repent it." ^Yhat is the value, in the teeth of such evidence as this, of the following assertion by M. Thiers : " Though little fertile in genius and hardy combination, Wellington was nevertheless attentive to the opportunities which fortune threw in his way. He did not create, but he seized them, and that was generally sufficient, because the opportunities which for- tune offers are always the surest, inasmuch as men never create them for themselves, except at the cost of great hardihood and peril." — B. xlii. p. 114. The campaign of 1812, terminated by the battle of Salamanca, demonstrated that Wellington knew well enough how to create at his pleasure the opportunities of vic- tory ; for it was he who took the initiative then, very much to the astonishment of the French generals. § The Tras-os-montes. THE DUKE ENTERPRISING. 047 Again, was ever operation more perilous than the passage of the Adour at it.s mouth, upon a floating bridge, constructed of chasse-marees, forced at all hazards into the river, in sj^ite of bars and sandbanks, to point out which there were no beacons ? And looking to the manner in which the operation was effected, have we not a right to say that Soult never antici- pated that it would be tried, just as a few years before he had not anticipated the passage of the Douro ? Lastly, in order to bring to an end this enunciation of conclusive facts, let us remember that Napoleon blamed Wellington for having accepted battle at Waterloo with the only army which England possessed ; knowing that the Prussians could not come up before mid-day, that the right wing of the enemy's army had received orders to pursue them, that the position of Mont St. Jean presented no serious obstacle to the assailants; and finally that the Anglo-Netherland army Avould be attacked at an early hour on the 18th by a force at least equal in number to itself, superior in quality, and commanded by the most illustrious general of modern times. One word more. He who merited this reproach from a man so remarkable for his boldness as Najooleon, cannot surely be described as a general cautious and wanting in audacity. The truth is, that the Duke of Wellington exhibited on all occasions as much of enterprise as it was possible to display at the head of the army Avhich he commanded, and in the circumstances in which he was placed. The writers who complain that he did not always turn to account the favourable opportunities which occurred to overwhelm his adversaries, and assume the offensive, forget that the English army is with difficulty recruited ; and that it must be managed with a degree of parsimony which is not necessary with the French army, drawn as the latter is from the inexhaustible sources of the conscription. They forget that Wellington could not live at the expense of the country in which he made war ; that the necessity of forming magazines, and causing his supplies of every kind to follow him, occasioned great loss of time ; that he was obliged to recon- cile the interests of a commander with the duties arising out of a compli- cated situation ; that the necessity of arranging his operations in concert Avith the Spanish generals and local authorities was a source of perpetual delay to him ; and that the want of money and means of transport from which he suffered so frequently, was equivalent to a want of enterprise and mobility ; the English army being destitute of a resource which was open to that of the enemy, viz. pillage and requisitions. They forget that Wellington was as a general subordinate to the Duke of York, a man greatly wanting in talent and resolution ; that he was bound besides to conform to the instractions of the English minister, often very incomplete, almost always peremptory and most embarrassing ; and that of all needs there is none more troublesome to a general, nor more opposed to the spirit of enterprise, than that of regulating military operations according to the state of public opinion, the most changeable of all changeable things, especially in England. When the news was good, the enthusiasm of the English people became boundless, their confidence imlimited ; but the slightest reverse, or the sniallcst disappointment, effected a complete change in their disposition, T T 4 ^48 APPENDIX. and their despondency became at once as extreme as had been their enthu- siasm. Thus after tlie success at Baylen was made known, the people of England believed that the Spanish patriots, supported by a handful of English soldiers, would be perfectly able to drive away the French armies j[i-om their country. Under this impression large subsidies were voted by- acclamation. A short time afterwards arrived tidings of the success at Vimiero, and the capitulation of Cintra. Here there was real cause for rejoicing ; but people imagined that Junot ought, like Dupont, to have been compelled to lay down his arms, and from this false notion it arose, that the generals who had beaten the French and delivered Portugal were dragged before a court of inquiry (a proceeding which had never occurred before) and publicly degraded. These clamours, slowly allayed by the evidence of facts, regained fresh energy, when the remains of Sir John Moore's army, driven from Corunua, were seen to disembark. Men re- garded the war in Spain as an act of madness, and came at once to the conckision, that Bu.onaparte was invincible by land. Wellesley, restored to public favour, proceeded to take command of the troops, and marched with perhaps too much confidence towards Madrid. He gained the battle of Talavera, but was almost immediately obliged to retire upon Badajoz. New deceptions, new clamours ! The commander- in-chief and the ministers were attacked with extreme violence in both Houses of Parliament by Lord Grey, Lord Holland, Ponsonby, Wliitbread, and others. The advocates of the war became fewer in number and more timid ; nevertheless the party of the ministers carried them through, and they obtained fresh authority to continue the struggle. Happily for them, some rapid successes justified this determination, for on the least reverse, indeed on the smallest disappointment, the army would have been recalled. When tidings arrived one by one, of tlie retreat of Massena, of the capture of Badajoz, and of Ciudad Eodrigo, the English people became enthusiastic in the extreme. But their admiration, always dependent upon circumstances, could not hold out against the retreat from Burgos. Ex- aggerated by the voice of prejudice, and compared to Sir John Moore's retreat, that operation gave rise to fresh clamours. They were, however, the last to which Wellington was subject. The victories of Salamanca, Vittoria, Orthez, Toulouse, and Waterloo, raised at length his glory and popularity to a height from which they could never afterwards be brought down. La the midst of this flux and reflux of public opinion, the position of the English general was at times as disagreeable as it was perilous. Sometimes he was accused of doing nothing, and of manoeuvring like Fabius. Sometimes he was reproached with desiring to compromise everything by his insane rashness.* Wellington knew that the slightest * On the 21st of April, 1810, Wellington wrote to Mr. Charles Stuart: " The state of opinion in England is very unfavourable to the Peninsula. The ministers are as much iilarmed as the public, or as the Opposition pretend to be ; and they appear to be of opinion that I am inclined to fight a desperate battle, which is to answer no purpose." THE FRENCH GENERxVLS LESS DECIDED, 649 iict of indiscretion might compromise him with the government or the nation, and that the smallest check, imder certain circumstances, would lead to the recall of the army. This conviction, added to the fear of crippling his force, already weak in point of numbers, obliged the Duke to exercise great circumspection. There was besides another reason, which hindered him from striking blows as rapid as those which could be delivered by the French army. It is to be sought for in the peculiar constitution of the English soldier. Firm only in the battle, he is easily knocked up on the march, and sustains with difficulty privations and fatigue. Three days' provisions are all that he can be made to carry ; whereas the French soldier carries sometimes as many as fifteen complete rations, and in spite of that burden, performs forced marches with less difficulty than the other experiences in compassing an ordinary stage. Besides, it is extremely difficult to keep the English soldiers together after a victory, and this it is which accounts for the languor with which Wellington on more than one occasion followed up the enemy. In the face of these strong reasons, which rendered it incumbent on the Duke to be prudent in the extreme, he exhibited a greater amormt of determination and dash than the Emperor's lieutenants. Indeed it is curious to observe how the historians who criticise most keenly the j)re- tended sloAvness of Wellington, and his extreme timidity, never think of comparing his conduct with that of the French generals, whose condition nevertheless was much more favourable to vigorous action. A regard to impartiality compels us to supply this defect, by i-emai'king : 1st. That on the testimony of French authors themselves, the indecision and slowness of Marshal Ney saved the army of Castanos and Palafox from complete destruction, after the battle of Tudela. 2nd. That the same deficiency in determination and enterprise caused Massena to lose the battle of Busaco. 3rd. That in July, 1809, Soult lost precious time in collecting the entire corps of Ney and Mortier, a jDortion of which would have changed the face of affairs, if it had debouched a few days earlier into the valley of the Tagus. 4th. That Soult and Marmont generously threw away the opportunity of defeating the English army at Campo Mayor, where it had taken up a jjosition with numbers inferior by one half to those of the French army. 5th. That on the 2Gth of September, 1811, the Duke of Eagusa, in con- sequence of an act of indecision still more marked, permitted Wellington, during thirty-six hours, to organise leisurely at Guinaldo his means of retreat, when he might have crushed him with superior numbers. Gth. That Soult, in November, 1812, not only neglected a good oppor- trmity of interposing between the English army at Arapiles and Ciudad Eodrigo, but permitted Wellington to effect a flank movement of the most dangerous kind in order to reach that place, although he was three times as strong in cavalry as the English general, one and a half times stronger in infantry, and well nigh twice as strong in artillery. 7th. That Suchet, through an exaggerated fear of compromising a part 650 APPENDIX. of his conquests, repeatedly reftised to join his troops to those of Marshal Sonlt, in order to stop the offensive march of Wellington across the Pyrenees. 8th. That St. Cyr was wanting in vigour and determination, after the battle of Vails, and that in 1812 Marmont allowed the opportiuiity to escape of attacking Almeida, where he would have found the materiel necessary for besieging Ciudad Eodrigo, though he had in hand 28,000 men, and though the works of the place were in the worst possible condition. In stating these facts, we are far from pretending to say that Wellington always stood above reproach. A great general has well observed, " that he who makes war makes faults." We have with perfect impartiality pointed out those which are chargeable on the Duke. His glory will not be ob- scured by this, and it will be acknowledged, we are confident, that in the war of the Peninsula he showed himself superior, as a tactician, to Massena, to Marmont, to Suchet, and to Soult.* The French will never pardon in the Duke d'Albufera the fault which he committed when he refused to fall upon the right flank of the army which was about to invade France, when, with 20,000 good troops upon the Ebro, he permitted the castle of Saragossa to be taken by the bands of Espoz y Mina, and when at last he retired upon Catalonia, instead of operating in Arragon, in concert with Soult's army. Massena, so brilliant in Switzerland and Germany, failed to sustain his reputation in Portugal. He exhibited no token of genius, except during the progress of his retreat. Mai'mont committed at Salamanca irreparable faults, of Avhich, doubt- less, the results were aggravated by the woimd which placed him hois de combat at a critical moment. The behaviour of Joseph at Vittoria was that of a general who had not attained even to mediocrity. Finally, the Duke of Dahnatia had to reproach himself, up to the end of his career, with having lost, at Arapiles, the opportunity of crushing the English, with the strongest army which France, up to that moment, had assembled on one point in the Peninsula. It would not be fair to judge a Avarrior only by the results which he has achieved, because battles may be cited which have done more honour to the vanquished than to the victor. On the other hand, however, it is monstrous to assume that a general could be constantly successful through- out a lengthened enterprise, without possessing talent, especially if opposed to able adversaries and excellent troops. We must, therefore, be permitted to observe, in reference to Wellington, that his combinations were rarely counteracted, and that he came out victorious from many battles, fought * It was owing to this superiority that he possessed in a higher degree than they the qualities necessary to bring to a successfid issue a war so peculiar as that of which the Peninsula was the theatre. Napoleon recognised the importance of these qualities when he wTote to Joseph : " In a war of this kind, coolness, patience, and calculation are required." — Note dated Bayonne, 21st of July, ISOS. THE DUKE TIIWAHTED FRO.M HOME. Gol upon the most varied theatres, and against troops of all kinds, in India Denmark, Spain, and the Low Countries. To arrive at a just conception of the importance of the results achieved by that general, it is necessary to call to mind all that we have elsewhere stated in regard to the English army ; the inadequacy of its system of re- cruitment, the imperfect organisation of its various services, the negligence and incapacity of its officers, the habitual misconduct of the men, the Avretched condition of the materiel^ and the constant and troid^lesome interference of the civil poAver, in the most minute details of military administration. Wellingion did all that was possible to better this state of things, but he was constantly thwarted by the bureaucracy of the Horse Guards, — bound hand and foot by old traditions. The Duke of York, who ought to have facilitated the work, was retrogressive, methodical in every respect, too dependent on his subordinates, who were for the most part wanting in experience and military talent. The consequence was, that Wellington, instead of receiving the support of the Government, encoiuitered only delays, hesitations, prejudices, obstacles of every kind. Sometimes, as for instance in the appointments which they made, and in the relation in which the army stood towards the fleet, the public offices enfeebled the authority of the commander-in-chief, at a moment when his necessities were the greatest. Sometimes they disturbed the management of the army by frequent and ill-timed changes.* And sometimes they dallied with decisions the most urgent, as, for example, when it became necessary to nominate a successor to the chief command, in the event of Wellington being killed, or placed hors cle coinbat.'f In the teeth of all these obstacles, Wellington succeeded in introducing into the organisation and discii^line of the British troops several beneficial changes. He created, in 1808, a field commissariat, for the management of which, even to its most minute details, he himself drew up the rules. He reduced the quantity of baggage, always very considerable in English armies ; he bettered the condition of the engineer corps and of the staff; he forced the Government to enrol, for the first time, companies of sappers and miners ; he formed a pontoon train, which proved of great service ; he improved the carriages in use for the transport of ammunition and pro- visions; he effected great changes for the better in the materiel of the hospitals ; and, lastly, he rendered the parade movements of the army, too long neglected, more precise, and introduced greater regularity into every department of the service. ij: He himself set an example to all under him, by scrupulously attending to the most minute details. Thus at a time when gi-eat operations might have well occupied his whole attention, he directed his officers, in a general order, to take care that the men mixed * Dospatclies, vol. ix. pp. 602, 625. t Wellington had proposed Beresford for this place, but he eould never obtain a decisive answer on the subject. Despatches, vol, ix. pp. 209, 585, 608; vol. x. pp. 41, 121 ; and vol. xii. p. 208. \ [In substance M. Brialmont is correct. But the Duke made no change in the parade movements of the army, that matter having been taken up by Sir Henry Torrens, not always to the Duke's satisfaction.] 652 APPENDIX. tip with their soup certain nutritious articles, which he had ordered to be issued to them. " Whether it be barley or maize," says he, " the grains must be steeped before they are boiled." This order vouches for the im- portance which the Duke attached to preserving the health and general efficiency of his soldiers. The following passage from a letter addressed by him to Lieutenant-Colonel Torrens, bears testimony to the same wise precaution. " There is nothing to which I have at all times paid greater attention than settling the men's accounts. I consider regularity in this respect to be indispensable to the maintenance of discipline." * Not less importance was attached by Wellington to the maintenance of esprit de corps in the anuy ; he desired above all things to keep it free from the disastrous influence of political intrigue. " One thing I beg of you," he writes to Lord Liverpool, on the 2nd of January, 1810, " that you will send me no party men. The army must be kept free from the spirit of discord, otherwise we shall be in a bad way." Disputes among officers gave him the greatest annoyance ; and if, in spite of his remonstrances, any one engaged in them, he never failed to point out that " these wore times when all the zeal and activity of officers were required to defend the rights and interests of the country." f If there was one human being whom he detested more than another it was a man of a quarrelsome disposition. In order to prevent discussions and disputes, he advised those high in office "to recognise no party but that of the public good ; and to employ indiscriminately, in whatever services might be required, those whom they believed to be endowed with zeal and ability." It was by these means, by obliging all under his command to do their duty, and by driving away every cause of insubordination and indis- cipline, that the Duke succeeded in making his army the most perfect that England had ever produced. " I always thought," he says, " that I could go anywhere, and do anything that I chose, with that army. It is im- possible to conceive a machine better mounted or in more perfect order than was the Peninsular army when I quitted it on the Garonne." \ We shall but imperfectly aj^preciate the importance of this result, unless we keep in view the state in which the army was when Wellington assumed the command. " Military men," says Alison, " with very few excep- tions, from the general down to the drummer-boy, were ignorant, to a great extent, of the most essential of their duties ; insomuch that the com- mander-in-chief was forced to busy himself about the most trifling details of every branch of the service, under the penalty of seeing his best arranged plans defeated through the ignoi'ance and incapacity of his subor- dinates. These were the defects, so conspicuous in the campaign of 1794, which gave to Napoleon and the French generals such a jaoor opinion of the English army. The organisation, the discipline, and the instruction of the troops made marked progress under Wellington's firm and wise direction ; nevertheless, * 12tli of August, 1812. t Letter to Colonel Murray, 14th of September, 1803. :j; Evidence before the Committee on Military Punishments, THE DUKE ABHORS PLUNDERERS. 653 take it for all in all, the English army of the Peninsula was always inferior to the French. This the Duke repeatedly acknowledges, and adds that it must always be so as long as England puts from her a system of enlist- ment, which will admit of her losing, without feeling it, one half of the troops in the field every year by privations and fatigue alone. It has been charged as a reproach against Wellington, that he lacked the firmness necessary to restrain his men from sacking and pillaging towns taken by storm. The English army did, in point of fiict, commit frightful excesses at Ciudad Rodrigo, Badajoz, and St. Sebastian. In this latter place, particularly, " the most revolting cruelty was added to every other descrij)tion of crime."* Yet these horrors can in no manner be imputed to the commander-in-chief. The history of all armies unfor- tunately shows that it is impossible to prevent the sack of a town taken by assault after a murderous siege ; when the assailants are rendered mad by the remembrance of past sufferings, or by the desire of avenging some recent humiliation. This occurred almost daily in Spain, where, on one side as well as on the other, the feeling of hatred was intense. Hence it came about that the struggle took at once a character of cruelty incon- ceivable.f Wellington did everything in his power to put a stop to these excesses, but he failed. Writing to his brother Henry on the 0th of October, 1813, he says, " It has fallen to my lot to take many towns by storm ; and I am concerned to add, that I never saAv or heard of one so taken, by any troops, that it was not plundered. It is one of the evil con- sequences attending the necessity of storming a town ; which every officer laments, not only on account of the evil infiicted thereby on the unfortunate inhabitants, but on account of the injury it does to discipline, and the risk which is incurred of the loss of all the advantages of victory at the very moment they are gained." Wellington entertained the greatest horror of plunderers ; indeed it may be said without exaggeration, that no man ever made such efforts as he to restrain his soldiers within the limits of duty and law. His very first measure, at the outset of his career, was a protest against all acts of vio- lence. At Seringapatam he stopped pillage by hanging several soldiers at the gates of Tippoo's palace, and planting sentries over all houses that were exposed to it. In consequence of these energetic measures he soon re-established order, and inspired the inhabitants with a greater amount of confidence than they had ever experienced during the most prosjjerous periods of the Mysorean dynasty. At the close of the INIahratta war, Sir Arthur Wellesley felicitated him- self less upon the triumphs achieved by his troops, than uj^on the discipline and moderation of which they had set the example : " My multitudinous partisans," he wi'ites to Col. Close, "are so well discii^lined, that I can * Napier. t [M. Brialmout is right, so far as the French and Peninsular nations were con- cerned ; but, as he himself elsewhere shows, the war was conducted between the French and English in a spirit of the most perfect chivalry. Towards its close, indeed, the good understanding between both officers and men sometimes produced incon- venience.] 654 AITEXDIX. trust them to go anywhere. We have been here, at Noobly, for a month, and the shops in the heart of the camp are all respected." lu like manner he expresses his gratification " that the soldiers of the army, one hour after the assault of Gawilghur, had quitted the town with as much regularity as if they were merely marching through it." During his stay in India, Wellesley used the utmost precautions to prevent his men from committing outrages in the villages. Every one taken in the act was hanged, and the generals received orders to pm'sue the same course towards their subordinates. But it was chiefly in the Peninsula that "Wellington distinguished himself by a just rigour against plunderers. We need not quote the many general orders which he issued, prohibiting his soldiers from taking anything from the Spaniards or Por- tuguese without paying for it. We need not call to remembrance the energy which he displayed in dealing with the soldiers wdio infringed these orders. It will suffice if we draw attention to certain matters of fact, not generally known, which exliibit the marvellous pains Avhich he took to prevent the slightest injury to the rights of property. In his order of the 13th of June, 1809, he reqviires his troops " to spare the olive and other fi-uit trees in constructing their huts;" and after Talavei'a, when the poor soldiers were dying of hunger, " he prohibits them from taking grapes or vegetables without paying for them." In 1810, still guarding against unnecessaiy destruction and scenes of confu- sion, he published the following order : — " The commander-in-chief entreats general officers and officers commanding regiments, to prevent the troops under their orders, by all the means in their power, from cutting down olive and other fruit trees to make fires." By another order of the same year, he forbids officers to hunt game in parks or preserves. " That custom," he says, " implies a total forgetfulness of the rights of property ; which the oflticers would be obliged to respect if they Avere in their own country." On the 13th of April, 1811, Wellington being at Villa Mai-mosa, charged the chiefs of corps, " not to cut down the green corn for forage, but rather to turn out their horses to graze in the meadows," and when this advice was not strictly followed, he wrote, " that a regard to the interests of the army, added to a feeling of pity for the unfortimate in- habitants, ought to prevent the wanton destruction of forage, and of every thing else." * In 1812, at Fuente Guimaldo, Wellington forewarned his soldiers that he would allow nothing to be done in Spain, which had been forbidden iu Portugal. " No one," he says, " must quit the ranks to steal the fruit, either in the gardens or in the fields." While the Spanish soldiers in various w^ays, and particularly after Talavera, exhibited a hostile feeling * We may refer agam to his two letters of the 16th of March, 1811, in -which lie acquits his soldiers of blame for having taken some wood to burn, during the pursuit of Massena, from a royal park, as well as some branches of olive from the grounds of the Count Castello Melhor. With a generosity rare in leaders of armies, he offers to pay out of his own purse for the wood which the poor soldiers, who daily expend their lives for the defence of the Peninsula, had taken. TENDER OE LIEE AND PROPERTr. G35 toAvards the English, Wellington required that the peaceable iiduibilants sliould be treated with the utmost possible kindness. On the 2nd of July, 1812, he issued an order, ivhich began thus : " The Commander-in-chief has had frequent occasion earnestly to beg tliat the officers will treat the authorities of this country with respect and the people with kindness." The same generosity of sentiment marks the whole of his intercourse with the French nation. When about to pass the frontier, on the 9th of July, 1813, he calls upon his soldiers to secure the good Avill of the inhabitants by their humanity and justice. " To avenge the conduct of the French generals in Spain," he says, " on the peaceable inhabitants of France, would be conduct unworthy of the soldiers to whom the Commander-in-chief now addresses himself. Accordingly, the rules for making requisitions for the necessary siipplies, and giving receipts, must be observed as heretofore." Finally, as if to take away even the shadow of a pretext from such as would charge the Duke with encou- raging pillage, he pushed his severity so far as to give the following directions : — " St. Jean de Luz, 18th Dec. 1813. " Officers must take care that the men do not break down, nor damage in any manner, the flooring, stairs, doors, or windows of houses, nor the doors of farm-buildings, and they must ascertain from the inhabitants whether they have any ground of complaint in regard to these matters." Every soldier who violated these orders was severely pimished ; indeed, for the sake of example, Wellington caused men convicted of mere maraud- ing to be hanged ; and in another place we have cited the proclamation in which he authorised the inhabitants of the south of France themselves to inflict summary punishment on soldiers taken in the act of plunder. We have seen also, that he preferred sending back the Spanish troops behind the Pyrenees, and fighting the battle of Orthez without them, to Avinking at acts of brigandage which he had A'ainly endeavoured to repress by measures of discipline. " I am not base enough to allow pillage," he writes to Don Freyre. " If you wish your men to plunder, you must name some other general to command them." So strong was Wellington's aversion to everything like unnecessary destruction, that he refused, throughout the whole of the war in Spain, to attack fortified places by bombardment. He would rather expose himself to enormous difficulties, and see the blood of his soldiers (of which he was so chary) floAV, than doom a mass of homeless people, against whom he had no groimd of complaint, to perish amid the flames, or under the ruins of their own houses. " In all the sieges in which I have been engaged," he writes to General Bentinck, '' I have never made use of more than cannon, because in my opinion, a fire of mortars and howitzers produces no effect, except upon the inhabitants of a town." * This fact alone may serve to show how nnjust is the judgment of certain Spanish authors, who have reproached Wellington with having encouraged * 24tli March, 1812. 656 APPEXDIX. the pillage of Ciudad Eodrigo, Badajoz, and St. Sebastian.* It was not in the power of any man to stay these disorders. Under certain conditions iill armies plunder, even within their own territory. Hence "Wellington, during his stay in Portugal, had less difficulty in keeping his own soldiers Avithin the bounds of disciphne than the Portuguese, who were always disposed to rob their own countrymen. f It is well known, also, that the Spaniards were almost more afi-aid of their o"\vn soldiers than of the enemy. " It is mortifying," wrote Sir Howard Douglas to Lord Wellington, " to be obliged to repeat, that the Spanish troops do more damage to their country than an equal niuxiber of French troops." And, in point of fact, it was no uncommon thing to see the peasantry in Catalonia, Andalusia, and the other provinces, join the French in pursuit of the guerillas. Stringent as Soult's orders were, he could never prevent the French soldiers from pillaging their own countrymen. Excited partly by Avant, partly by the thirst of vengeance, they were more to be dreaded than the enemy .J With a view to put a stop to the brigandage, Soult, in 1813, caused a meritorious officer to be shot, because he had allowed his men to destroy certain houses in Sarre. Wlien we see such crimes perpetrated by the soldiers of the most civilised nations, we are at no loss to understand how the influence of generals, and the vigour of military law, are power- less amid certain contingencies, to prevent the sack of towns. If Wellington must be held responsible for the excesses which marked the capture of Ciudad Eodrigo, Badajoz, and St. Sebastian, we may at all events quote, in extenuation of these faults, the conduct of the French troops, and the orders of the Emperor's generals, under circumstances in which the English general would, without doubt, have shoAvn himself less cruel and less implacable. Who can have forgotten the bloody cxecu- * General Lamore (p. 179) repeats the followiug anecdote, wlaich is accepted as a truth by the historian of the "Consulate and the Empii-e" (hook xlii. p. 117). After the breakfast which Lord Wellington gave to the French officers on the day of the surrender of Badajoz, Philipou entreated the Duke to put a stop to the pillage ; upon which the English general replied, that the customs of war permitted the plunder of a town taken by assault ; and that the soldier ought to be rewarded for his bravery and devotion. To those who knew the Duke, or have merely pondered the career which it has been our privilege to describe, it must be CA-ident that the Duke never could have uttered these odious words. There is nothing, either in his actions or in his correspondence, which does not contradict the statement. Besides, there is ample evidence of General Lamore's disposition to exaggerate, and of his malevolence towards the English general, in the following statement (p. 203): — "The sack of Badajoz, which a word from him might have stopped, will tarnish for ever AVcllington's laurels," — an assertion simply false, and of which we cannot speak in any other terms. t See his order of the 12th and 13th of April, 1811. I Lapine(pp. 284-5) describes some scenes of violence perpetrated by French soldiers, chiefly in crossing from Aire to Mabourgiiet : — -" We were in despair at being iinable to apply any remedy. It is at least certain that the French general, inflamed with a just indignation, seized the arms of a soldier in the column, and fired upon the men who wandered hither and thither at a distance from tlie road, and showed themselves indifferent to the reiterated appeals and remonstrances of their chiefs." See also the letter written by Clarke, on the 5th of July, 1813, to Joseph: " His imperial majesty hears, with much concern, of the outrages which are committed within the French territory." FRENCH ATROCITIES. G57 tions ordered by Murat, after the insurrection in Madrid ; the sack of Evora, which has secured to Loison a celebrity so little to be envied ; and the barbarous conduct of the same general at Guarda and Atalaya ; the pillage of Medina by Monton's troops, after the battle of Rio-Seco*; the sack of Cordova by Dubart's army ; the burning of Manresa by the troops of Macdonald; the barbarous executions of Duhesme in Catalonia ; Mataro so cruelly treated, and the many villages reduced to ashes by the same general ; and, lastly, the inflxmous conduct of De Lannes, who, three days after the capitulation of Saragossa, caused Don Basella Eoggiero to be arrested in the night beside the sick-bed of Palafox ? That gallant patriot, after being dragged through the streets, was bayoneted, and cast, with Don Santiago Sas; who suffered the same fate, into the Ebro. After the battle of Ucles, Victor's troops committed, in the village which gave its name to the action, atrocities which could be rivalled only by the massacres during the " reign of terror." Sixty-nine of the principal inhabitants, besides several members of religious houses, priests, and monks, belonging to the most illustrious families of La Mancha, were tied u]), two and two together, first insulted, and then had their throats cut to a man. In 1809, the French troops put to death in Oporto some thousands of persons ; and the same year the Duke of Dalmatia burned to the ground the towns of Morentan and Cobriera on the Minho, in punishment of certain offences committed by the peasantry in the course of the campaign. The city of Leyria, and the convent of Alcobu^a, where the ashes of many Portuguese kings repose, Avere destroyed the year following by express orders from General Massena ; and the troops set fire, besides, to a vast number of towns and villages, Avitli a view to cover their retreat towards Guarda. " The conduct of the enemy throughout the Avhole retreat was marked," Avrote Wellington on the 14th of March, 1811, " by acts of barbarity, which have seldom been equalled and never siirpassed." A French author, the Duke de Ragusa, particularises atrocities in that campaign, which neither the sufferings of the troops, nor the cruel demands of a system of requisitions, could justify. " While the ai'my was at Santarem, detachments were sent out, some armed, some Avithout arms, to examine the siu-rounding country, and to bring in everything which they could find. If a Portuguese met them, he was seized and put to the torture, in order to wring from him a decla- ration of the places where goods of any kind might be hid. The first warning was to hang him till he grew red in the face ; the next, to keep him hanging till he became blue ; and then death followed." M. Guingret, commandant of a battalion in Massena's army, confirms this testimony by the following rmheard- of statement. " The women and girls found in the caves and hiding-places were subjected to the grossest outrage. Our army had, indeed, fallen into such a state, that police regulations and discipline became powerless. No one was punished for insubordination ; the most culpable licence prevailed. One occurrence in particular which took place during this war, and of Avhich no one ever * Tonviio gives a fearful but, wo believe, tnie account of French atrocities in 8pain, U U 658 APPENDIX. thinks, sliows the extent to which demoralisation was carried. Women taken by marauding parties, whom the marauders detected by their long hau', were put up to sale. I have been present at a card-party where a yoimg girl was played for as an article of luxury. It was a common thing to torture the peasants till they told where their goods lay. . . To such a pitch of degradation was the evil carried, that it rendered our soldiers remorseless and cruel." In 1810, Suchet, with a view to escape the delay uicident to besieging the castle ofLerida, had recourse to an ingenious but barbarous stratagem. Having taken the town, he drove back the women and children, and indeed the whole population, into the castle, and then opened a fire of mortars tipon these masses, exposed without cover to all its horrors. As he had foreseen, the governor, unable to hold out against the cries and suiferings of such a mtiltitude of victims, surrendered immediately. At Saragossa, more terrible reprisals took place, which Suchet describes in the folloAving language. " The fifth assault was followed by a frightful massacre. The awful example which, in my last report, I anticipated with regret, was at once followed ; and it wiU not soon be effaced from the memory of the Spaniards. Four thousand men were slain in the streets. Of 10,000 or 12,000 who endeavoured to save themselves by leaping from the walls, upwards of 1000 were sabred or shot." The author of the " Memoirs of Joseph " (vol. v. p. 224) thus describes a bloody tragedy Avhich occurred in the little town of Chincon, after the affau" of the Somme Sierra. " The 27th Light Infantry, being appointed to examine the communes adjoining to the theatre of Avar, was received at the gates with a fire of musketry. The regiment carried the town, put the inhabitants to the sword, and fired the houses. The same thing occurred at Colmenar. . . . These executions," adds M. Ducasse, " were doubtless terrible ; but they intimidated other communes, and saved a great deal of bloodshed." Marshal Soult caused an old police oflficer, called Lopez, to be hung, because he was taken in the act of collecting horses for Ballasteros. This severity might not appear odious, but that Lopez had been previously arraigned before two tribunals and acquitted. On the 18th of December, 1809, Augereau issued to the Catalonians the following proclamation, — a very chef-cV ceuvre of cruelty. " Every man taken with arms in his hands will be hanged as a highway robber, without ti'ial. Every house in which resistance is offered to our troops shall be btu-ned. All shall suffer the same fate." General CauUncourt executed, at Cuen^a, fi-ightful reprisals, Avhich obtained for him the congratulations of the Emperor. " Caulincotrrt," Avrites Napoleon to Joseph (31st July, 1808), " has done well at Cuenca, The town has been pillaged ; it is the law of Avar, for the place was taken by assault." * When he entered Salamanca, Yfellington A\^as painfully affected by observing how much that city had suffered from the presence of the French * This is not the law of war. The laws of war oiily permit the garrison whicJi defends a breach to the last to be piit to tlie sword. And this is enough in all conscience ! THE DUKE BLAMELESS AT BADAJOZ. 650 army. *' For three years," he writes to Lord Liverpool, " the people of Salamanca have groaned iiuder the yoke. During this interval, the French, among other acts of violence and oppression, have destroyed thir- teen convents ovit of twenty-five, and twenty-two colleges out of the same number, which adorned a city, the seat of learning and the sciences." * Comparing these with the acts attributed to Wellington, and bearing in mind that there are few troops so moral as those of the French army, and few penal codes so severe as that of the English, we are forced to the distressing conclusion, that there are conditions under which hatred and the thirst of vengeance overpower the better feelings and nobler senti- ments of human nature in all armies. Discipline, however strict, is incapable of restraining the fierce anger of the soldier. A system of moral training, more perfectly developed, may perhaps lead to this result ; yet, even then, it may be doubted whether such lessons can ever he learned as shall restrain men from acts of barbarism, who, after being repeatedly driven back from the breach, force their way at last, their blood heated by the fiiry of battle, over the dead bodies of their comrades into a town. It would therefore be luijust in the extreme, to hold the English general responsible for all the bloodshed in Badajoz and St. Sebastian. Indeed we are astonished that the English army should not have committed in the Peninsula greater enormities than it did ; and that it can be com- pared in this respect without disparagement to the French army, of which the elements are relatively so superior. Nothing short of the energy and perseverance of Wellington could have brought about such results ; for, in a moral point of view, the English soldier is, on the admission of his own oflficers, perhaps the most degraded in the world. Eaised from among the lowest of the people, sometimes taken from the very gaols, he possesses no portion of the moral character or patriotic feelings which animate the soldier called by conscription to arm in his country's defence. Hence it was, that to the end of his life Wellington strenuously resisted the abo- lition of corporal punishment. He stated with truth, that the iitmost rigour of military law could not prevent his finding freqiient occasion to complain of the behaviour of his troops. Desertion and habits of plunder could never be entirely put a stop to in the Peninsular army. Indeed there are numerous documents in existence to prove that, in the retreat from Burgos to Ciudad Rodrigo, multitudes of English soldiers quitted their colours. f ■* Most of the acts of barbarity and rapine which we have qxioted receive some extenuation (they cannot be justified) from the cruelty of the Spaniards, and the un- fortunate necessity imposed upon the imperial army to subsist by piUage. t [Once more we must enter our protest against these sweeping charges. "WTiat M, Brialmont says of the manner of enlistment into oui- ser^-ice is perfectly true. Nor, in the existing state of public feeling, is it probable that anything short of some great national disaster will open men's minds to perceive its inadequacy, as well in a politi- cal as in a social point of view. But we deny that, either in the Peninsula or any- where else, in the presence of the enemy, was the British soldier prone to desert. He might straggle and maraud at times, when victory or a reverse loosened the bands of discipline, but desertion to the enemy was a crime scarcely known. For one English soldier who went oyer to the French, ten Frenchmen came in to the English lines.] U IT 2 660 APPENDIX. When "Wellington was called npon to give evidence before the Royal Commission on Military Punishments, the question was piit to him, " Do yon consider that drunkenness is at the root of all the crimes in the British army ? " his answer was, '* Invariably." And when on another occasion he was requested to give his opinion on the subject of discipline in the ranks, he said, " The man who enlists into the English army is generally the greatest drunkard, jjrobably the worst man in the trade or profession which he follows, or in the toAvn or village Avhere he lives. There is not one in a himdred Avho, at the time of his enlistment, does not belong to the latter class, or to the very outcasts of society." It is easy to understand, that for an army so composed, a stern chief and a rigorous code are necessary ; yet that the case shoidd be so in England, where public opinion is entirely against the infliction of punishment by courts-martial, is a matter passing our comprehension. Nevertheless these punishments, so far from being excessive, proved in most cases in- adequate. Wellington found constant cause to complain of the composition and proceedings of courts-martial. Throughout the whole of the war in the Peninsula, soldiers could be tried only according to English law, of which the forms, suitable enough in times of peace, proved for an army in the field most inconvenient. Hence, in 1809, Wellington wrote to Lord Castlereagh, '' I am satisfied that the laAV is not severe enough to maintain discij)line in an army employed in the field."* This sentiment is rejoeated in his despatch of the 24tli June, 1810, to Lord Liverpool ; and in the folloAving extract from a letter, Avritten at the opening of the campaign : " I have not a friend in the country who does not Avrite to express his fears of what may happen, if these disgraceful iri-egularities continue ; and I declare that I am unable to stop them." At the close of the campaign of Salamanca, Wellington testifies to the misconduct of his army. "Outrages of all sorts," he says, "are com- mitted Avith impunity, mere statements not being received as evidence by courts-martial, and the soldiers are little better than a band of robbers. I have enlarged the authority of the Provost-Marshal, as tar as it is pos- sible to do so ; but that authority is not stifficient, and I have no means of adding to it." ... " Our penal military laAV," he Avrites again to Lord Castlereagh, " is Aveakened ; and we liaA'e not adopted the noA'el modes of repression and punishment which are made use of by other nations, and even by the enemy, though Ave have imitated them in arrange- ments Avhich tend only to increase and aggraA'ate our disorders." The Duke AA^as desirous that the proof of guilt before courts-martial should be rendered less rigorous ; that a military police should be formed, similar to that in use in the French and other armies ; that the officers should be compelled to do their duty A\'ith greater strictness. Yet all his proposals Avere rejected; insomuch that up to the termination of hostilities * See his letter to Mr. Villiers, in AV'liicli he coinpLiins of the difficulty of detecting criminals and convicting them, according to English laAv ; and of the reluctance of the inhabitants to appear to give parole evidence before courts-martial. After the retreat from Burgos, many soldiers charged Avith marauding by the local authorities Arere, on these accounts, acquitted. THE WANT OF TOWER TO REWARD. 661 Wellington found himself beset by ditliciilties, from wliicli a little ppecial legislation at the opening of the war would have freed him.* Not only Av^as he luiable to punish, effectually, infractions of discipline and neglect of duty, but he wanted that Avhich is still more essential to one in chief command ; he had no power to reward merit. "Writing to Lord Castle- reagh, in 1809, he says, " I command the army, yet I have no power to reward, or even promise a reward." In the folIoAving year he wrote to Lord Liverpool thus : " I have taken the liberty of draAving your lordship's at- tention to the state of discipline of the army in general, Avhich I stated to be attributable in some degree to the want of the power of reward in the hands of those who are honoured with the charge of commanding his Majesty's troops on foreign and active service." And again, to Colonel Ton-ens : " Lr all services except that of Great Britain, and in former times in the service of Great Britain, the commander-in-chief employed against an enemy in the field had the power of promoting officers, at least to vacancies occasioned by the service of the troops under his own command ; and in foreign services the principle is carried so far as that no person can venture to recommend an officer for promotion belonging to an army em- ployed against the enemy in the field, excepting the commander of that army. ... I, who command the largest British army that has been employed against the enemy for many years, and who have upon my hands certainly the most extensive and difficult concern that was ever imposed upon any British officer, have not the power of making even a corporal. | It is impossible that this system can last. ... It is not known to the army and to strangers ; and I am almost ashamed of acknowledging the small degree, I ought to say nullity, of power of reward which belongs to my situation ; and it is really extraordinary that I have got on so well hitherto without it." We share in all respects this feeling of astonishment, because, in order to stimulate zeal and foster obedience and devotion, it is absolutely neces- sary that the soldier should receive his reward immediately after the performance of the exploit, and from the hands too of him who has * These complaints run through very many of his letters. In one despatch the following remark occurs : " The army being numerous and much divided, it is not always possible to get together the members of a coui't-martial and the witnesses who must follow them; and when the court is assembled, its proceedings must be suspended if the army, or a portion of it, be engaged in operations against the enemy. If the manner of judging by courts-martial be inconvenient on active service, the fault rests, oftentimes, with the law, and not with the manner of its execution." The consequence was that, in order to punish those whom the law could not reach, Wellington had recourse to somewhat irregular measures. He stopped the promotion in a regiment of cavaliy which misconducted itself at the battle of Vittoria. t By all accounts, the Emperor's marshals were much more favourably circum- stanced. They nominated to all inferior offices, and sometimes to that of ckrf de ba- taillon. Thus, to give but one example, an ordinance of 1813 authorises Jourdain to nominate, diu'ing a certain time, to all vacant ofRces, from that of sotis-Ucutcnant to that of chef de bataiUon, inclusive. The same power was recently given to the com- mander-in-chief of the French army in the Crimea. The English Government, jealous of all pre-eminence, never has consented, and never will consent, to give to its generals similar avithority. u u 3 662 APPENDIX, exposed liim to danger. The English Government docs not understand this necessity, or rather refuses to admit it, because it is afi-aid of irritating that extreme susceptibility which has at all times, in Great Britain, re- garded the influence of military power as dangerous to the public liberties. In one of his letters to the military secretar}', Wellington points out "vvith some warmth that no attention whatever is paid to his recommenda- tions, and that officers who had quitted the Peninsula and gone to England were promoted in preference. In another letter he expresses his surprise that general officers should be sent out withoixt consulting him, and that he should not have the right even to reject them if he con- siders them incapable. His authority Avas so weak, that he declared to Lord Liverpool that he was unable to prevent officers fi-om going away whose assistance was necessary to him. " The consequence of the ab- sence of some of them," says he, "has been that in the late operations I have been obliged to be general of cavalry and of the advanced guard, and the leader of two or three columns, sometimes on the same day. . . . My opinion has always been that the Government should do everything in its poAver to increase the authority of the commander-in-chief in this country, but every proposal to give additional j)ower to persons in authority is received in England Avith jealousy, though Avhy, I haA'c never been able to undei'stand." It follows from these facts, and from others which Ave liaA^e quoted else- Avhere, Avhen speaking of the difficulties throAvn l^y the Government in the Avay of the exercise of supreme poAver, that Wellington usually found himself very aAvkAvardly situated as commander-in-chief of an army. He possessed neither the means of ensuring prompt obedience to his orders, by strict laAvs suitable to circiimstances as they occurred, nor the power of stimulating by reAvards the zeal and self-devotion of his subordinates. It Avas the War Office Avhich distribiited promotions and decorations, Avhich appointed to employments and fixed the amount of pay. Wellington, to use his own expression, had not even power to make a corporal. His re- commendations were almost always set aside or misunderstood. Officers Avho had never quitted their native country passed over the heads of the heroes of the Peninsula. " The neglect of justice in dispensing promotion," says Colonel Napier, " disgu:sted everybody." While in the French army young men were seen to arrive in a feAV years at the highest stations, the best of WelKngton's officers remained six or seven in the same rank. Take two examples. Lieutenant- Colonel Fletcher, the able engineer who had constriTCted the lines of Torres Vedras, and directed the sieges of Badajoz, Ciudad Rodrigo, Burgos, and Salamanca, Avas still a Lieutenant- Colonel in 1813, Avhen he Avas killed by the bursting of a shell in the trenches before St. Sebastian. The English army did not possess a staff-officer more able, braver, more indefatigable, than Lieutenant-Colonel Waters. That officer proved eminently useful throughout the Avar, and Wellington, in conse- quence, spoke of him as a very remarkable person. In spite of this title and these recommendations. Waters held at Waterloo the rank Avhich he had acquired in 1809 at the passage of the Douro. THE DUKE'S INFLUENCE OVER HIS TROOPS. 6G3 The commauder-in- chief of the Eiigiisli anny had no other means of stimulating his officers than by S2:)eaking of them in general orders, or making mention of their services in his reports to the British Govern- ment. As to the private soldiers, means of stirring np in them emula- tion were entirely wanting ; and this it was which rendered so admirable the conrage and determination Avhich they displayed upon the field of battle. It has been pretended that this determination was the result rather of the phlegmatic constitution of the English than of their moral qualities. " Never," says Napier, " was a more unworthy calumny advanced. Na- poleon's soldiers fought for glory, which shed its halo over the humblest of them, and carried them on to honoiu*. The English soldiers, on the con- trary, served a jealous and selfish aristocracy. No recompense was awarded to their bravery — no bulletin marked their names for the applause of their fellow-countrymen — no hope gave a colour to their life of fatigue and dangers — their death itself was never chi-onicled ; yet, were they ever wanting in courage ? " Verily it is a matter of astonishment, that with means of action so limited at his control, "Wellington could still exercise such immense influ- ence over his troops. If we may believe one of his aides-de-camp, that influence was owing rather to the Duke's services — services which English patriotism could never look upon with indifference — than to any feeling of affection or gratitude on the part of the soldiers. " Though it be indisput- able," says Napier, " that Wellington, as a general, commanded at all times the confidence of his subordinates, it is less certain that he always secured their affection." Weighty as this evidence may be, we are still of opinion (looking to the facts of the case) that we are justified in rejecting it. No doubt Wellington Avas not popular in the English army, in the same sense that Napoleon was popular in the French army ; but the circumstance is accoiuited for by the difference in their characters and situations. Gifled by nature with an ardent temperament, and finding himself at the head of an intelligent army, in which the ideas of liberty and social equality had struck deep root, the Emperor, incited thereto by impulse as well as by calculation, made strong apipeals to the imagination of his soldiers. Flat- tering their tastes, playing upon their weaknesses, chief and comrade at the same time, he ruled them, while he made himself adored. The same com- nmnity of sentiments, of manners, and of habits, did not exist, and could not exist, between the Duke of Wellington and the mercenary soldier of Great Britain. This latter, iu point of fact, found himself from age to age under the control of a proud aristocracy. The officer kept him always at a distancc,'and was respected, and nothing more,* This considera- tion alone hindered Wellington from maintaining with his subordinates that familiarity which marked the intercourse of Napoleon with liis own * [M. Briabuoiit is quite mistaken in all this. As a foreigner, he cannot under- stand the relation between the English officer and soldier. The devotion of the latter to the former, when he is well treated, surpasses that of a son to his father. We have seen a whole company in tears when burying their captain ; for whom, before he was killed, there was not a man among them but would have given his life.] U U 4 664 APPENDIX. soldiers as often as lie was desiroiis of raising to tlie utmost tlieir courage and devotion. It is, moreover, to be rememl^ered, that, like the nations which they served, the characters of these two generals were essentially ditferent. "Wellington was not by nature a man of strong passions. A calciUator, cool, and methodical, free fi-om prejudices and strong impulses, he appealed to reason rather than imagination. The Emperor, on the other hand, cap- tivated men's minds by brilliant images and actions Avhich dazzled. His rare qualities commanded admiration, and the xery faults of his character won for him partizans. " Mankind," says a moralist, " are not for the most part greatly taken, except with those in whom they find something to pardon."* It is not necessary to carry the parallel further in order to comprehend that "Wellington knew as Avell as Napoleon how to win the esteem and respect of his subordinates. Perfect evenness of temper and character, combined with a depth of benevolence and justice, drew towards him by little and little those whom his grave and reserved manner might have rej)elled at first. The soldiers appreciated his unceasing efforts to better their condition ; they were touched with his anxiety to spare their blocd ; they admired his impartiality, his truthfulness, the justice and dis- interestedness with which he assigned to every one the portion of j)raise which was due to him ; above all, they were proud to obey a general who, in exchange for their rude devotion, gave them glory and prestige.^ All who served in Spain, or in India, under his orders, pronounced Wellington to be in truth an excellent chief. ^ Severe and rigid in points of duty, in- dulgent, simple, and gay in the relations of private life, he delighted to see his officers amusing themselves, and mixed not unfrequently in their parties of pleasure. lie listened with patience to the complaints of the soldiers, carefully returned their salutes, and showed himself always ready to oblige them. Hence it Avas that Wellington, in spite of his frigidity and strictness, exercised great influence over his army, and inspired the officers, as AveU as the soldiers, Avith unbounded confidence. The Spaniards them- selves, averse as they Avere to English intervention, and ill-disposed toAvards the Duke, rendered fidl justice in the end to his talents and character. Ditring the latter campaigns, his presence among them on the battle-field sufficed to reassure them ; it prevented the return of those deplorable * [The Duke of Wellington's passions were naturally very violent. His temper was iiTitable, and he was capable of strong likings and dislikings ; but his judgment Avas so evenly balanced, that ho seldom failed to keep them under control. I think it was the late Mr. Croker who said of him justly, " that he felt as much as man could do, but possessed the rare quality of consulting his reason before he permitted the feeling to express itself." This was on great matters ; in smaller things he was impul- sive enough.] t Though he did not possess the power of fascination which belonged to Csesar, the Peninsular army experienced towards the Duke the same feelings which the tenth legion expressed for the victor of Pharsalia. — Memoir of the Duke from the Times. \ Earl de Grey and Lord Ellesmere state that all who were so fortunate as to be on terms of friendship with Wellington entertained sentiments of the liveliest affection for him. He was kind, affectionate, indulgent in discussion, and always ready to render serA'ice where he could. THE DUKE ON CORPORAL TUNISHMENT. C65 panics, of wliicli, at the beginning of the war, they had given so many examples. Napier is of opinion that Wellington's popularity suffered from the bar- barism of the penal military code, and from the defects inherent in the English system of promotion. We readily accept this explanation, except only so far as it relates to corporal punishment, of Avhich Napier appears to be the avowed enemy. Doubtless it is humiliating to human nature, that punishments of this kind should still ^be applied in the army of the most enlightened people in the Avorld. Philanthropists of all nations exclaim against these disgraceful flagellations. The English themselves condemn them in the most energetic terms. Many attempts have been made in Par- liament to introduce a more humane code ; but in every instance they have been rejected by large majorities. The Duke of Wellington Avas always foiuid among those Avho resisted such motions, and as his authority carries Avith it great Aveight, the feeling of reprobation Avhich attaches to laAvs, the existence of Avhich are deplored by all generous hearts, has been reflected upon him. Far fi-om complaining of this responsibility, the Duke has ahvays taken credit for it, because in his opinion the abolition of corporal punishment Avould bring ruin upon the English army. He defended that opinion before the Eoyal Commission for inquiring into military punish- ments, with a poAver of argument Avhich overAvhelmed and confounded his opponents. '' The end of chastisement," says he, "is not only the punish- inent of the guilty, but example. . . . Besides, there is no punishment Avhich makes an immediate impression, except corporal punishment. You send a man into solitary confinement ; nobody sees him in that situation ; nobody knoAvs Avhat he siifFers Avhile he is shut up. Consequently that punishment has no effect as an example. I take it upon me to declare, that a hundred times over the mere threat of a flogging has hindered the commission of great crimes. ... I have thought upon this subject noAV for six or seven years, I have turned it over in my mind in all manner of Avays, and I declare that I cannot form an idea of Avhat you could substi- tute for the old manner of punishment." This conclusion drcAV doA\ai on the head of the Duke of Wellington the thunders of the press and of the Opposition. The principal argument of the reformers Avas this : Since the French and German armies have abolished corporal punishment Avithoiit suffering inconvenience, Avhy can- not that of England do the same thing ? The Duke refuted that objec- tion by pointing out, that no parallel can be draAvn betAveen armies recruited by conscription fi-om all classes of the people, and an army of Avhich the constituent elements are draAvn from the very dregs of society ; betAveen armies docile, moral, and sensible of reproof, and an army of hardened blackguards, given up to debauchery and drunkenness ; betAveen armies numerous, and capable of sustaining a certain amount of relaxed discipline, and a small force, in Avhich the slightest approach to Aveakness leads to disorders Avhich might result in irreparable disasters. The Did^e further pointed out that discipline ought to be rigorous in the extreme, in an army disseminated by feeble corps over the Avhole surface of the globe, and of which the men, wherever they may go, begin their ser- 666 APPENDIX. vice on board ship, where all the restraints of honour, of remonstrance, and secret reprimand, as well as all separation or distinction between the different classes, become absoliitely impracticable. The fragments of that army are only at remote intervals brought under the surveillance of the corps fi-om which they become separated. The detachments in Ireland, in India, at Honduras, and in New South Wales, can never be subject to the inspection or control of their chiefs. " "When these matters are taken into account," says the Duke, " the wonder is that there should be any discipline in our army at all, notwithstanding the strictness of the system of which the Opposition complain." Regard to truth compels us to acknowledge that this objection will be unanswerable, so long as England shall decline to reform her system of recruiting, or till the lowest classes, from which the army is raised, shall have made great progress in moral refinement. They who groimd upon notions of philanthropy their judgment in regard to this serious question of corporal punishment, have come to the conclusion that the Duke of Wellington was a hard-hearted man, — that his soul was inaccessible to generous emotions.* They are entirely mis- taken in this respect. Those who have lived in intimacy with the Duke render full justice to the excellent qualities of his nature. Under a re- served exterior, he was kind, simple, and devoted ; by nature he was prone to clemency; he jjunished only because the interests of his army required it ; in many instances he pardoned with too great a facility. Tliat to- which he always looked in inflicting pu.nishment was example. The follow- ing order, dated the 4th of March, 1811, illustrates this statement. " Con- sidering that for two years not a soldier of the Brigade of Guards has been brought before a court-martial, and that scarcely one of them has l^een imprisoned in the public guard-house, the commander-in-chief desires that this brigade shall be exempted from attendance at the execution which will take place to-morrow." As often as for any reason a long interval intervened between an an-est and a trial, Wellington almost always preferred setting the prisoners at liberty. His correspondence furnishes ample proof of this. Again when a particular crime Avas rare, and example Avas so far useless, the Duke readily pardoned the criminal. Towards the end of the Peninsular Avar, crime had greatly diminished, A man Avas couAdcted at that time of desertion, " I pardoned him," says Wellington, " because the offence had become A^ery rare." An officer of the Peninsular army conducted himself ill before the enemy. Instead of handing him over to a court-martial, Wellington Avrote to the Duke of York, and begged that the resignation of the unfortunate man might be accepted. "Want of courage," he says, " is very uncom- mon among the officers of this army, and this crime need not be visited Avith an exemplary punishment." After Waterloo, he foUoAved the same course. " Many brave men," he * The author of the "Memoirs of Massena," General Koch, is mauifestlj^ unjust toAvards Wellington, when he says (vol. vii. p. 172) : " There is nothing to indicate in him the presence of the blood-vessels which connect the heart with the brain." THE DUKE'S CLEMENCY. 067 says, ''and I believe even great men, have appeared a little frightened in a battle like this, who afterwards conducted themselves remarkably well." '* Believe me," he Avrote once, "all those whom you see in imiform are not heroes." This philosophic clemency induced the Duke to pardon many faults and weaknesses which others would have punished. If ever an English regiment got compromised in any affair, it might always count on the most fevourable interpretation being put upon its conduct by Wellington. It was thus that he stood forward to excuse the precipitate retreat of the 14th Dragoons at the battle of ChilliauAvallah, in the Pmijab, and of the 62nd Infantry at the battle of Ferozeshah. But the Duke had another object in view Avhile acting thus. It was, as he says himself, " to hide from the men and from the world, that an officer could misconduct himself in the presence of the enemy." " If it happen that an unfortunate fellow should misbehave, I ^^I'efer letting him retire from the service rather than expose him to the world." Here is another instance of clemency, as it is given by the Duke in his evidence before the Eoyal Commission on Military Pimishments. " A sergeant deserted, taking with him the pay of his company. He was caught. I sent him to the halberts, but I did not punish him. Up to that time he had borne an excellent character. I pardoned him, and not long afterAvards made him a non-commissioned officer again. I afterwards re- commended him for a commission. He got it, and became a staff- officer in the Peninsular army. That man had been fooled by women into com- mitting his crime. It is in affairs of this kind that a soldier may be betrayed without becoming an absolutely bad chaxacter." It is certainly difficult to reconcile this readiness to make large allowance for men's weaknesses with the Duke's habitual strictness and severity. The excellence of his heart is shown in many other cases than these. Colonel Walsh, in his '' Military Reminiscences," describes a little adven- ture of which he Avas an eye-witness. Captain Mackay, an intelligent and brave officer, but who, being rough and unmannerly, was no favourite with Sir Arthur, Avas put in charge of the baggage. The employment did not accord Avith his adventurous disposition, so he requested leaA^e to take the field Avith his corps, the 4th Eegiment of Native Cavalry ; but the proposal being considered inconvenient to the public service, it was re- jected by the Adjutant-General Barclay, Avdio had previously taken the opinion of the commander-in-chief. JMackay, disregarding this refusal, wrote to the Duke, that, " if his regiment should be engaged, he would join it at all risks." " He knew," says Walsh, " that by so doing he Avould forfeit his commission; but he was determined to lose it honourably." On perusing the letter, Wellington said, "What the d Avould the felloAv be at ! I suppose he must have his oAvn Avay." And INIackay did take part in the battle of Assaye; at the close oC which, after fighting Avith extraordinary gallantry, he had his horse killed, and Avas himself bloAvn to pieces by the bursting of a shell. When Wellington heard of it, his eyes filled with tears — a touching tribute to the memory of a brave comrade." His behaviour to officers, who, in a fit of ill-humour, might Avrite to him G68 APPENDIX. iu an unbecoming strain, was not less characteristic. Instead of briiiiging them to punishment, he would beg of them to reconsider their letters, and to withdraw them. " I have no malice towards Mr. Downie," he writes to General Mackenzie, on the 25th June, 1809. ''A gentleman who feels a censure so sorely Avill take care not to incur the risk of receiving another." Again, on the 18th of August, 1811, in a case not dissimilar, he " requests an officer to reconsider the subject;" adding, " I assure you that nothing Avill give me more satisfaction than to have succeeded in pre- vailing upon you to recall expressions which nothing should have provoked you to tise to your commanding officer." Having been accused, on a certain occasion, by Morillo, of sparing Enghsh marauders, and reserving all his indignation for the Spaniards, the Duke contented himself with writing to the immediate superior of that officer iu these words : "I hope that General Morillo will Avithdraw his complaints, as made in a moment of irritation, to which all men are liable. If he does not do so, I hope that he is prepared to prove them." It will be recollected that Ballasteros openly denounced the nomination of the Duke to the chief command of the Spanish armies, in terms so violent that the Cortes felt itself obliged to supersede him. Such un- worthy conduct did not prevent the Did^e from bestoAving upon Ballasteros, a short time afterwards, extraA^agant praise. " He is the only man," so he Avrote to Lord Liverpool on the 24th November, 1812, " that has done anything." A young Englishman, Avho had been employed for about a month in the commissariat, addressed a letter to the Lords of the Treasury, in Avhich he said that the commissary-general and his officers, as Avell as Wellington himself, Avere either knaves or fools ; and that by adopting a new method of administration, Avhich he professed to have iuA^ented, millions Avould be saA^ed to the public. HaAdng been informed of the circumstance, Welling- ton merely Avrote to Mr. Villiers, the young man's patron, " I only beg that he Avill Avrite no more letters to the Treasury about matters which he does not understand." At the conclusion of the war in France, an officer haA'iug complained intemperately to the Duke, that his name had been omitted from the list of those recommended for the Bath, the Duke replied to him on the 8th of February, 1815, from Vienna, " The expression of this irritation, hoAV- ever unjust towards me, and unpleasant to my feelings, has not made me forget the services Avhicli you and your braA-e corps rendered on every occa- sion on Avhich you were called upon; and although I am afi-aid it is too late, I have recommended you in the strongest terms to the Secretary of State." But it Avas not toAvards his oAvn brethren in arms, and his felloAV-citizens exclusively, that the Duke exhibited such marked forbearance. The Spanish soldiers were treated with equal indulgence. He never failed, iu spite of the many causes of complaint which he had against them, to speak in the Avarmest terms of their services, as often as the opportunity of so doing occurred. More than once, indeed, he had the delicacy to pass over in silence the fardts and failings of Avhich they had been guilty. His report of the battle of Talavera bears Avitness to this fact, in which he THE DUKES TEIs^DER-HEARTEDNESS. G69 takes no notice whatever of the disgraceful conduct of Cuesta's troops who, on the 27th, ran away, Avithout firing a shot, from Mileaud's cavahy. Again, the Duke, with great generosity, undertook the defence of these troojDS, Avhen, after the battle, Cuesta gave orders that they should be decimated. About fifty men had been shot, when he siicceeded in per- suading the Spanish general to stop the execution of the rest.* Under the guise of extreme reserve, Wellington nourished a tender and compassionate disposition. f He took greatly to heart the death of his officers. After the battle of Vittoria, he wrote to his brother : " My grief for the loss of Cadogan takes away all my satisfaction at oiu- success." And so also, on the day following the battle of Waterloo, he says in a letter to Lord Aberdeen, " I cannot express to you the regret and sorrow that I feel, when looking round I perceive the losses which we have suffered. The glory of a triumph like this, so dearly purchased, is no consolation to me." Writing the same day to his friend Marshal Beres- ford, he says, " Our losses quite prostrate me, and I am quite indifferent to the advantages we have gained. I pray God that I may be saved from fighting any more such battles ; for I am broken-hearted with the loss of so many old friends and comrades." f Such a wish, expressed at a moment when the Allies were in the very gloAV of victory, does the greatest honour to the character of Wellington. Napier states that he saw the Duke in a passion of tears, when after the assault of Badajoz, the report was made to him that upwards of 2000 brave men had fallen in the course of that terrible night. Another eye-witness describes a similar scene, as occiu'ring in his presence after the battle of Waterloo. " Dr. Hiime, the principal medical officer at head-quarters, entered the Duke's chamber on the morning of the 19th June, to make his report of the killed and wounded. He found the Duke asleep, unshaved, and unwashed, as he had lain down late over- night. The duty being urgent, Hume awoke his chief, and the Duke, sitting up in his bed, desired him, without asking any questions, to read. It Avas a long list, and took a good while to go through ; but after he had read for about an hour, the doctor looked up. He saAV Wellington with hands convulsively clasped together, and the tears making long furrows on his battle-soiled cheeks. At first the Duke did not seem to notice that Plume had ceased to speak, but in about a minute he cried, ' Go on,' and till the reading Avas closed, he never once moved from his attitude of i^ro- found grief." Compare this Avith the conduct of Napoleon. He regarded liis soldiers as " mere pieces on a chess-])oard." § Provided the issues of an affair * Torcno, vol. iii. p. 47. t He A\'as much touched Avhen luisfortuno befell liis officers. This is shown in his letter of the 19th NoA-ember, 1812, to Sir Edward Paget, in AA'hich he expresses, Avith equal truth and feeling, his concern that lie should have been made prisoner l\y the French. His letter to Maucune thanking him for the care he had taken of his pri- soners, tells the same tale. J Letter to Prince Mettcrnich, 26th June, 1815. § This was his own expression. TbofolloAving civcinnstance may serve to illustrato his meaning: — When in command of the artillery of the army of Italy, he was visited 670 APPENDIX. fulfilled his hopes, he cared for nothing beyond. The simple-minded and modest English general ivas endowed ■with a more feeling heart ; he enter- tained a more elevated opinion of hiunan nature. He neither flattered his soldiers, nor worked upon their pride, but he took care of their health, and spared their blood, with a tenderness which on more than one occasion made him an object of ridicule to the French generals.* It was characteristic of Wellington that he treated his subordinates with extreme politeness. No one ever saw in him those bursts of iU-humour and brutahty to Avhich Napoleon often gave way. No one ever had occasion to complam of a single unjust word or ungenerous depreciation of his motives. In the hai'shest of his orders he invariably made use of the language of a gentleman. He possessed in a liigh degree the calmness and urbanity which ensure obedience to orders in public life, that charm of manner, which in the relations of private society springs from either high birth, or natural elevation of character. In his orders and official lettei^s, Wellington requests, entreats, he very seldom commands.^ If any of his generals showed signs of harshness or ill-breeding, he never failed to correct him. On the 20th September, 1811, he wrote to General Camp- bell, " It would undoubtedly be better, if officers placed in the situation in which you were, could correct neglects and eiTors likely to be attended by consequences fatal to the public interests, in language which should not hm-t the feehngs of the person to whom it is addi-essed ; and with a manner divested of vehemence." He gives the same advice to Beresford, which the misconduct of certain Portuguese officers, m writing direct to their own government, instead of sending their correspondence through him, had provoked. " I would in- troduce into this order and into the correspondence no severity of asperity ; only a plain and short abstract of facts." In this spirit he acted when, in his general order of the 17th, he observed, "Whatever maybe a man's rank or situation, he ought to be treated with mildness and civility." And on another occasion he entreated his officers never to make use of harsh language to their inferiors. " Expressions of this sort," he says, " are not necessary, and they may wound, but they never convince." oue day by the Mile of a Deputy, with whom he had been acquainted at Nice ; who expressed a 'ndsh to see what fighting was. He immediately ordered an advanced post on the hill of Tende to be attacked. Nothing could be gained by the action ; but his fair hostess at Nice had her cm-iosity satisfied. Some soldiers lost their lives for the whim of a coquette, and for a general indifferent to the siifferings of himianity. It is fair to add that Napoleon afterwards expressed regret at having so acted — at St. Helena. * It has been said that Wellington was guided by prudential considerations in this. They may have had their weight — they probably must ; but a careful study of the acts and character of the man leads to the conclusion that they weighed much less with him than motives of humanity. 1' In his order of the 8th April, 1811, the following expressions occur: " The com- mander of the forces is always concerned to be obliged to occasion ti-ouble to any officer ; but the oflSicers of the army may depend upon it, that no duty which they are called upon to perform can be omitted without serious inconvenience to the semce, which will be felt sooner or later."' HIS POLITICAL DIFFICULTIES. 671 Thus lar we liave endeavoured to show what Wellington was in the conduct of war and at the head of an army. It remains now that we look at him, beset l)y all the difficulties arising out of the administration of aftairs of detail and of politics. And in this second phase of his career he appears to us to be neither less great nor less worthy of admiration than in the first. Indeed, we know not which to admire the most, the ability with which he conducted military operations, or the talent, not less valuable, Avhereby he succeeded in getting the better of political embarrass- ments, and in disentangling the intrigues of every kind, Avhich stood in the way of the execution of his plans. A very inadequate idea would be formed of Wellington's merits, if we overlooked the entanglements which, from the first day of the war to the last, gave him more trouble than the French army itself. In Portugal he had to struggle against the aristocratic and overshadow- ing faction of the Souzas (which the court of Brazil favoured) ; the sloth and Aveakness of the government at Lisbon ; the indecision and concealed animosity of the Prince Regent.* In Spain the local juntas, which were made up for the greater part of factious men, the most hostile to England, stirred up their fellow-citizens one against the other, under the pretext of keej)ing alive their enthxisiasm. They squandered away the money and arms which, at the commencement of the war at least, the English Government sent to them in great abundance ; and ended by frustrating, sometimes by their rashness, sometimes by cul- pable inactivity, the best arranged schemes of defence. The Cortes, deeply embued Avith the spirit of reform, and carried away by the same extravagant passions which swayed the journalists and popu- lace of Cadiz, threw constant hindrances in the way of the Duke's plans, by refusing to decree necessary measures, by adopting faulty schemes of finance f , by giving direct orders to their troops and generals, instead of requiring them to obey implicitly the commander-in-chief, and by enact- ing laAvs Avhich disgiisted the clergy and the rural j)opulation, the tAVO great mainstays of resistance to France. | While their country Avas filled Avith foemen and the echoes of hostile cannon shook the hall of assembly, the members of Cortes passed their time in draAving up energetic proclamations, in discussing questions of abstract right, and in passing the most absurd resolutions. Will it be credited, for example, by posterity, that, during the most critical period of '^ M. Thiers makes too light of these difficulties, when he says, " The court of Janeiro and the regency soon gave Avay, when the English general shook his re- doubtable wand." We could quote twenty cases in which the court and regency placed themselves in direct opposition to Wellington. Most of these have been noticed elsewhere. t Among other wild schemes, the Cortes set up a property tax, on a sliding scale ; of which the effect was, to confiscate the estates of all who had anything, under the pretext of helping such as had nothing. — Toreno, vol. iv. p. 181. \ One of these was a law for suppressing the Inquisition. However right in itself, the act proved to be most inopportune, for the Inquisition, strange to say, was as much in faA'our with the peasantry as with the priests. 672 APPENDIX. the war, in 1813, the Cortes decreed by statute that St. Theresa of Jesus should be honoured as the patron saint of Spain ? To these sources of embarrassment must be added, the profound ignor- ance, the dulness, and at the same time the extreme tardiness of the Spanish generals ; the wretched state of the regular army, and the little sympathy which existed between it and the Partidas ; the inveterate hatred of the Spaniards for the Portuguese people ; the total want of local resources ; the ill-will of the Spanish and Portuguese authorities ; and though last, not least, the supineness of the English Government, not only itself destitute of experience in war, but subject to the caprices of a nation, of which the manners and customs are all repugnant to an honourable career in arms.* " Few nations," says one of the most distinguished of British his- torians f, " present so strange an admixture of chivalrous with mercantile sj)irit; justly proud of her historical glory, yet imreasonably jealous of military expenditure ; covetous beyond measure of renown in war, yet always anxious to patch up a peace ; ever leaving themselves without re- sources, when the danger is past, yet more fearful than any other people of reverse, when danger is near ; babbling about Crecy and Azincourt when war rages, yet when peace returns, thinking of nothing, except how to effect reductions." But Wellington was called upon to provide, not for the wants of his own country alone. It devolved upon him to regenerate, so to speak, the Portuguese nation ; to create in that people new habits and a new charac- ter ; to exalt and encourage them, without having the power either to reward or to punish ; to wage war with abuses, old and even respected ; with confusion in the management of civil affairs, with worn-out institutions, fenced round with numerous abuses, and high social influences. And, lastly, he was called upon, without making any appeal to revolutionary prin- ciples, to combat an aristocracy, strongly attached to its privileges, and to sustain and bring forward the people, among whom alone throughout the nation, the principle of patriotism was not dead. Never perhaps, in the history of the world, has the commander of an army found himself in a position so arduous, and so complicated. Left entirely to himself, without advice, almost without supj^ort, having his military chest almost always empty, and generals under him of a very secondary order, he was forced not only to provide for everything, but in his own person to execute everything. While his responsibility was im- mense, his power of action was circumscribed hj a host of necessities not * Every writer who has touched on this subject arrives at the same conclusion. " There is no people in the world," says Sir Francis Head," which has so little know- ledge of military matters as the English. Convinced that a standing army is uncon- stitutional, they hate to see it. And this hatred is as sti-ong in the labouring classes as in any other, who look upon soldiers as their natural enemies, and will rather be shut up in workhouses than enlist." So also says Napier, " The English people are pugnacious without being military; and under the pretext of maintaining liberties, whicli they have not, oppose the maintenance in time of peace of such an establishment as might be useful in the event of war." Welling-ton, in a memorandum, dated April 22, 1823, expresses himseK in still stronger terms. t Alison. THE DUKE A FINANCIER. 0/3 always easy to be observed ; the necessity of respecting the laws and insti- tutions of the Peninsula, as well as the authority of the local magistrates ; the necessity of taking nothing from the inhabitants without paying its full value ; the necessity of preserving discipline in his army, under regu- lations adapted rather for a time of peace than one of war ; the necessity of explaining to his Government, and obtaining its sanction for measures which, in every other army, would be left to the management of the commander- in-chief Finally, the necessity of so managing all his proceedings, as that they should Ml in at once with the views of the English nation, and the requirements, and even the caprices of the British Parliament. His mode of encountering these difficulties, marks him as eminently gifted with practical genius. He made up for the defective system of re- cruitment at home, by raising in Portugal a national army of 30,000 excellent troops.* He supplied the want of money, by establishing a trade in com on a large scale ; and at his own risk encouraged speculations which turned out very lucrative. He encormtered the depreciation in the value of English paper, and defeated the schemes of usurers, by issuing Treasury notes, coining gold, and disjilaying all the resources of a first- rate financier. He said himself, once upon a time, " When I think of the exertions which I was obliged to make in the Peninsula, it appears to me that nature intended me rather for a chancellor of the exchequer, than for a minister of war or a commander-in-chief." f His long experience of Indian intrigue gave him peculiar facilities for counteracting the selfish and shifting policy of the Peninsular nations ; Avhile his active participation in the government of Mysore had de- veloped, to a gi-eat degree, the ability which was natural to him, in the administration of political and civil offices. A leader deficient in these qualities, would have probably failed in Spain, however great, in other respects, his inilitary talent might have been. We cannot too often repeat this fact. One essential condition of success in Wellington's case was this, that he was able to hold his ovm. among those Governments, the in- terests of which Avere almost always opposed one to the other ; that he could conduct his military operations without olFending, either the Parlia- ment to which he was responsible, or the regencies of Spain and Portugal, Vhose support was essential to him, or the native armies with which it was his duty to co-operate, or even the pretenders to vacant thrones, Avhose influence, troublesome as it might be, still required to be managed. It follows from what has been here laid down, that the part assigned to Wellington in the Peninsula was that of a general administrator, a financier, and a diplomatist. In Portugal, especially, his attention was tm-ned to every question, which, directly or indirectly, bore upon the sus- tenance of the people, their industry, their finances, their agriculture, their commerce. His correspondence testifies in the most remarkable * In 1809, 20,000 Portuguese troops, commanded by English officers, were taken into the pay of England. t Of the Duke's aptitude in accounts, we hare elsewhere spoken ; and it will be seen, by reference to the despatches, that so long ago as the period of his soi-vice in India, he had attracted the notice of the Marquis WeUesley by his skill as a financier. X X 674 APPENDIX. manner to tliis fact. It contains, among other papers, memoranda ad- dressed to the Prince Eegeut, in which is shown the great want of reform in every branch of administration, vitiated, as they all were, by abuses which the hidalgos desired to perpetuate, and from which the lower orders of the people greatly suiFered. Sometimes Wellington touched upon the unfair freedom from taxation which the nobles enjoyed, as well as the ex- emption from the conscription, which was extended not only to them, but to their domestic servants also. Sometimes he spoke of the Avretched condi- tion of the Portuguese labourers ; and of the unfair manner in Avhich the subsidies from England Avere disposed of, in consequence of abuses in local administration, and of the dishonesty of the agents employed to distribute them. And sometimes he pointed out how agricultui-e might be revived, in districts over which the tide of war had rolled. It was one of the peculiarities of that illustrious man, that he was able to attend to all manner of secondary questions Avithout neglecting the interests of his command, and that he could do so under circumstances when it might be well supposed that his thoughts Avere too fully occupied to admit of his turning them out of the one engi'ossing channel. Thus, on the 14th of April, 1812, Avhile Marmont lay before him, and after a severe action, in Avhich his able dispositions had secured important advan- tages to the allies, he wrote out, after nightfall, in his tent, an elaborate plan for the establishment of a Government bank of Portugal, " treating the subject," says Napier, " as he did every other connected with finance, like a master, down to its most minute details." Li all the reforms proposed by Wellington, two main objects are dis- cernible, — to deliver the Peninsula . as soon as possible from the in- vaders, and to improve the matei'ial condition of the poorer classes. He Avas fortunate enough to compel the adoption of scA^eral of these reforms, in spite of the opposition of the fidalgos, and the prolonged resistance of the court of Eio Janeiro. Doubtless it is not a little curious to find him standing before the English aristocracy in the light of a popular reformer in Portugal, yet so it is. " If the GoA^ernment of Lisbon," he writes to Mr. Stuart, on the 11th of May, 1810, " desires the lower classes to sacri- fice their interests and their business to the public good, and if it is ready to j)unish them for the slightest infraction of the law, it miist begin by acting in the same spirit toAvards the upper classes ; these are they on Avhom it is especially incumbent to do their duty ; nor ought any name, however illustrious, or any patronage, hoAvever poAverful, to save fi'om punishment all AA'ho fail to act as becomes them in defence of their cormtry." We beg particular attention to this letter, because it has been said over and over again, that the Duke never entertained a single generous feeling towards the masses. And from this belief concerning him arose the sobriquet Avhich he received in England, Adz. " the Iron Dixke." * Nothing * [Great misapprehension prevails, both at home and abroad, concerning the origin of this solmquct. The fact is, that it arose out of the building of an iron steam- boat, Avhich plied bet-Aveen Liverpool and Dublin, and Avhich its owners called the HIS WISE LIBERALISM. 675 however justifies that assertion in the Duke's career, which was marked at every stage by acts of great generosity, and entirely devoted to the defence of national interests, in their very nature popular. To the alle- gations of party men, we therefore oppose facts which admit of no denial. His ceaseless struggle for the deliverance of the Peninsula, and the energy which he disjilayed in maintaining the rights of the people in Portugal; his opposition to the English Government when it was prepared to bi'ing on the ruin of Spain by the emancipation of her colonies ; his honoural^le endeavour, at the end of the war, to obtain from the Kegency in Madrid an amnesty in favour of all citizens driven into exile ; his behaviour towards the French nation, elevated and generous; his refusal to support the premature pretensions of the Duke d'Angouleme ; his powerful in- tervention, whereby the monuments of Paris were ,saved from the fury of the Prussians ; his wise endeavours to dissuade the allied sovereigns from imposing terms too severe upon the vanquished ; and, last of all, the sixp- port rendered to the Government by his popularity and great name, in order that from his own party the repeal of the corn laws might be wrung, — we deiy any one to jioint out a single member of the liberal party in England who has rendered greater or more enduring services to the cause of liberty and progress.* No doubt Wellington was far from taking up and supporting every novel idea which floated into popularity. By the opinions which he entertained respecting the great influence of property, by his traditionaiy views as to the government of nations, by his own habits, and by his connections of family and friendship, he was attached to that great Conservative party, which, however much it has been decried, is still powerful in England ; and which accepted reform, in the popular sense of that term, only as a last resource. He did not, however, hesitate to separate himself from that party, and to become the champion of the lower orders, as often as he felt that he could do so without touching the fundamental principles of his political creed. The Duke was not the man to take up the quarrels, the prejudices, the hatreds of the leader of a faction, much less to make himself the ready instrument of their combination, f Before feeling as a Tory, he Duke of Wellington. The term Iron Duke was first applied to the vessel; and by and by, rather in jest than in earnest, it was transferred to the Duke himself. It had no reference whatever, certainly at the outset, to any peculiarities, or assumed peculiai'i- ties, in the Duke's disposition.] * [We have elsewhere shown that the Duke's character, in this respect, was greatly misunderstood. Opposed he was to the Keform Bill of 1832, and he resisted its becoming law, till there seemed to be no choice, except between withdrawal of such resistance and a revolution. But he assented to every measure of free-trade which Lord Liverpool's administration originated. He repealed the laws which rendered Dissenters and Roman Catholics ineligible to seats in Parliament ; and he would have begun a course of gradual reform in the representative system of the country, liad he not been thwarted by members of his own Cabinet, who afteru'ards turned round upon him and betrayed him.] t On 17th September, 1808, Wellington wrote to Sir John Moore, "Though I hold a high office under Government, I am not a party man ;" and again, on the 7th April, 1810, to Admiral Berkeley, "We ought to do great things at this moment, if there was less of party and more of public spirit in England." X X 2 676 APPENDIX. felt as au Englishman ; before feeling as an Englishman, he felt as a man. It is well known that the ultra Tories of Great Britain hated Napoleon, be- caiise he was the leader of the army, and the representative of the principle of democracy in Europe. Hence their disappointment was extreme when, towards the end of the war in S^^ain, they saw the democrats obtain in- fluence in the Cortes, and exhibit a disposition to treat with Joseph. In this policy Wellington largely shared ; yet he did nothing to resist the movement, fearful lest he might thereby stir up civil war. His advice to the Government was, on the contrary, to keep quite aloof from such in- ternal disagreements, and to confine all their efforts to supporting the war in which they were engaged with France.* " His superior wisdom alone," says Napier, " prevented the Tories from interfering with the internal government of Spain, which must have led, without doubt, to an open rupture." Again, it was Wellington who, in 1814, resisted every attempt to do violence to the feelings of the French people, by compelling them to declare against Napoleon, with whom the Allies were still in treaty. " Don't urge the people to declare themselves," he writes to Lord Bathurst, " but allow them, as the parties most directly interested, to choose their own time and manner of effecting their own purpose." •{■ So far from advocating reaction, as has been said, Wellington, on every occasion, preached up tolerance. He deplored the blindness of Louis XVIII. 's advisers, and blamed that prince himself, for calling to his coun- cils the members of his family, for forming an administration irresponsible and without unity, for creating a war department, except from the army itself, and for surrounding himself with people who had no real interest in the maintenance of the charter. Moreover, it was he who, after the battle of Waterloo, first advised the King to follow a course of liberality and moderation. " Your Majesty will do Avell," he writes, " to precede your arrival with some proclamation or act, which shall announce a policy of oblivion and pardon, which shall promise a steady adherence to the letter of the charter." The enlightened views of Wellington were so flilly appreciated at that period in France, that the patriots addressed themselves to him in order to obtain guarantees, as in 1814 they had addressed the Emperor Alexander, in order to obtain the charter, Fouche preferred treating with him rather than with Louis XVIII. On the 27th of June he wrote : " By you, above all, are the French understood and appreciated ; you will stand up for their rights in the face of all Europe." The Duke responded so faith- fully to that appeal, that the first act of the allied sovereigns was to declare, " that the capitulation of Paris was not binding upon them ; that it was a mere personal act on the parts of Wellington and Blucher." This decla- ration pointed clearly enough to the restitution of the works of art, and that result was accomplished immediately after the overthrow of Talley- rand's semi-liberal administration, which had been formed under the auspices of the English genei-al. * See his letter to Lord Bathurst, 5th September, 1813. t 11th April, 1814. HIS DREAD OF DEMOCRACY. 677 The Duke's correspondence afForcls ample proof that he Avas opposed to the rigorous measures adopted by Ferdinand against the liberal members of the Cortes, and that he urged the king to grant to his people a consti- tution in union with the ideas and wishes of the times. And finally, we may refer again, in proof of the liberality and kindliness of his opinion, to his abhorrence of the slave trade, which he pronounced to be " an odious traffic." Sincei'e fi-iend as he was to the people, however, Wellington always showed himself (and this perhaps it was which gained for him the charac- ter of illiberality), inaccessible to the false illusions of" pure democracy." He had taken too close a view of the intrigues, the disorders, and the secret ambition of that party ; he had suffered too much from its joolitical incapacity, and its extravagant susceptibility ; he had been too well satis- fied of the feebleness of a popularly-elected Cortes, and of the democratic constitution of Spain, not to be the declared enemy of a principle which, being infused into the Government, and exercising unbounded fi-eedom of action, had done more harm than good to the national cause. " It cannot be expected that Spain can ever become a useful ally to England, or an ally at all, so long as the republican system of government shall last." Towards the end of 1813, events had taken such a turn, that Wellington hesitated whether, in order to prevent an open rupture with the clergy and the rural population, he ought not to support the Spanish generals who desired to get rid of the Cortes altogether.* It was because the Spaniards had given him such excellent reason for distrusting anarchy, the sure result of organic changes prematurely effected, that he opposed himself so strictly to Irish agitators, and to those who endeavoured to carry by intimidation the question of Parliamentary Reform. His unbending determination on these points called down upon him the censure of the Whigs, while the Tories reproached him with yielding too much to the Liberals, in the suj)port which he gave to Catholic emanci- pation and to the repeal of the corn laws. To those who consider it a point of honour to stand by their party at all hazards, who condemn as discreditable every concession to circumstances, or to the necessities of governing ; who, rather than sacrifice what they call their principles and self-respect, would suffer the republic itself to perish — in the opinion of such men, Wellington could not be other than a statesman of a mean order. But his large intelligence and noble character enabled him to think light of opj^osition of every sort Avhich had its origin in any other feeling than the desire to promote the public good, and to maintain the honour of * "I beg of you to let me know," he wrote to Lord Bathurst, "whether, in the event of my taking steps to put down the democracy, I may count upon the approval and support of the Government." When he wTote this letter, Wellington was con- vinced that the Cortes was powerless for good, and that there was some danger of its tlirowing Spain once moi'e into the hands of France. In the hope of averting that calamity, he wrote, on tlie 2oth of January, to one of the most influential and sensible members of that body, and explained his own views as to the host means of securing to Spain the blessings of rational liberty. This letter, which proposes to modify fho Spanish constitution on the model of that of England, shows that he never desired to see despotism estabhshed in the Peninsula. X X 3 678 APPENDIX. the nation. He attached no vahie whatever to that false popularity, which is to be won only by flattering crowds, and pandering to the passions. The well-being of the people at large, apart from all regard to clique or faction, the internal prosperity of Great Britain, and the real necessities of Government, — these circumstances alone occupied his thoughts at all times, and under all circumstances. In a word, love of country filled his mind so completely, that there was no room left in it for love of party ; and this it was which rendered it easy for him, without shame, without embarrassment, to pass from one political camp to another, and to give his advice to the Crown, as the colleagvie of men of all shades of opinion. Nor must the fact be lost sight of, that this practice of changing sides in politics, which throws some shadow over the characters of piiblic men, and which there is, for the most part, good reason to condemn, occurs more fi-equently in England than in any other constitutional government. William Pitt, Canning, Castlereagh, Wellington, Sir Robert Peel, Lord Aberdeen, Lord Palmerston, and Lord John Russell, afford remarkable illustrations of this truth. And it is worthy of remark that not only have all these statesmen rendered eminent service to their cormtry, but that the greatest reforms, the most important measures of every sort which have been carried into effect in Great Britain, Avere effected by mixed adminis- trations ; by men of talent who, by mutual and patriotic concessions, undertook to govern independently of party, and for the public good. Principles, as they are called, had no value in Wellington's eyes ; he looked exclusively to restdts. In Portugal he was constrained by a regard to the common interests of the alliance to support the people against the pretensions of the Regency and of the fidalgos, because the people alone were energetic and devoted. In Spain, on the other hand, he was forced to sustain the party of the clergy and the nobles against the tiers etat, because the former alone stood firmly by England, after France had assumed towards Spain an attitude of liberality.* The same disinterestedness, the same desire to secure the triumph of a good cause, led him to take part with the Regency (in which, however, he had many enemies) when it reflised to recognise the treaty of Valen9ay, which threatened to involve England and Spain in serious difiiculties. Cordially as he disliked the Cortes, — to the full as much as he did the Regency, — Wellington, at the termination of the war, made praiseworthy efforts to induce the Spanish generals to support that assembly in resisting the pretensions of Ferdinand Vll.f Yet it was the same practical good * From the commencement of the war the democratic party had, in point of fact, displayed a fixed antipathy towards England. It was openly said at Cadiz, 1812, that the yoke of the French was more tolerable than the protection of the English. Yet, in spite of this open hostility, Wellington never mixed himself up with the domestic policy of Spain. On the contrary, he warned his own Government, over and over again, to maintain an attitude of strict neutrality. t It is well known that Elio's army declared openly against the Cortes, and that of Equia, under the dii-eetion of the King, assisted in arresting two members of the Eegency, with several deputies. The thu'd army seemed disposed to follow in the same course ; but when brought in contact with Wellington, his influence restrained it from deviating from the path of duty. Sec Toreno, vol. vi. p. 491. NO SYMPATHY WITH THE PEESS. 679 sense which rendered him hostile to the Spanish constitution, inipedin"- as it did the action of civil government, and paralysing military control ; to the Cortes, which, like all other popular assemblies, strove to get into its own powerless hands every influence in the state ; and to the Regency, which met every useful measure proposed by the commander-in-chief with a veto, based now upon some scruples of legality, now upon some inad- missible deference to the feelings of national self-love. He had reason on his side, over and over again, when he wrote to the Spanish Minister of War : " So long as the enemy is in the country, we must do all that we can to drive him out, whatever may be the constitutional privileges which may be invaded by these measures." * It is evident from all this, from his mode of reasoning as well as of acting, that the Duke never looked upon power as a means of causing his oAvn opinions or principles to triumph. He entertained far higher and more patriotic views of the statesman's mission, views which Sir Eobert Peel expressed so admirably on an occasion of great solemnity : " My con- solation for the sacrifices Avhich I am called upon to make, I must find in that hope of honourable fame, Avhich is to be acquired only by those Avho, according to the best of their judgment, fallible at the best, pursue the course which leads to the public good." Among liberal institutions, there was one for which the Duke had little sympathy, though he was fully alive to its beneficial consequences — we allude to the liberty of the press. It must be acknoAvledged, however, that he had excellent reason for the dislike with which he regarded it. The press had, in point of fact, given the signal for that burst of disappro- bation Avith which the Convention of Cintra was regarded in England. It had demanded and obtained the recall of the victorious generals, — a mea- sure Avhich would have probably cut short the career of Wellington, had he not been supported by the influence of his family, and the jirestige of his former victories. f It Avas, moreover, through the erroneous and unjust measure taken by the London journals of Sir John Moore's retreat, of the campaign of 1809, and the failure before Burgos, that the enthusiasm of the English people Avas changed into rage, and the recall of the Peninsular army all but determined upon. On the other hand, the ncAvspapers of Lisbon, of Cadiz, and Madrid assailed, Avith the fiercest rancour, every act of Wellington, AA-ith the vicAv of rendering him an object of suspicion to the Cortes, the Regency, and the people. Neither did they spare the Spanish generals themselves, Avho sutFered the more from such attacks, that they had nothing to trust to except public opinion and the confidence of their troops. The national press of Spain Avas given over, in a great measure, to tur- bulent men, who, to the utmost of their poor ability, scattered the seeds of * Letter to the Minister of War, 4th December, 1812. t [M. Briahnont is a little too severe upon the English press. It Avrote down tho Convention of Cintra, without doubt, and produced the recall of Sir Hugh Dah-ymple and Sir Harry Burrard. But the return of Wcllesley to England Avas voluntary. The step Avas taken out of delicacy towards Sir John Moore, AA-itli whose claim to com- mand the army he was unwilling to interfere.] XX 4 680 APPENDIX. anarchy and weakness in all directions. Tlieir virvilence increased as danger gi-ew less imminent. In 1813 it passed all bounds. Wellington and liis gallant officers, the real preservers of the country, Avere described as robbers and assassins. They even attributed to the English commander- in-chief the design of seizing the Spanish crown. Calumnies and slanders such as these effected, however, less harm to Wellington than the daily indiscretion of the English journals, which pub- lished in their columns all the information which they could pick up respect- ing the state and position of the allied army. The officers of the army, and the English ministers themselves, became, so to speak, accomplices in this 'abuse, by giving up for publication details which the French generals vainly endeavoured to obtain elsewhere, and of which they invariably made use. " I could point out the articles in the newspapers," Avrote Wellington, in 1813, " which have enabled them to form their plan of operations." All the attempts of the Duke to put a stop to these acts of culpable in- discretion, proved fruitless. At the same time, the Duke never ceased to remonstrate against them. " Your Lordship must allow me," he wrote to Lord Liverpool in 1809, " to call your attention to the articles continually published in the English newspapers, which describe the position, the numbers, the places, and the means of execution at the disposal of the armies in Spain and Portugal. . . . The English newspapers often tell exactly, not only what regiments are stationed at different posts, but of what numl>er of effective men they are composed ; and this information reaches the enemy as soon as it reaches me, at a moment, too, when it may be of the ixtmost consequence that he should be kept in ignorance." It is not wonderful, that a commander to whom the press had WTOUght so much mischief, should entertain for it no very friendly feeling ; or that he should from time to time give vent to his ill-humour with joiirnalists in language which was not always measured. Writers who censure the habit to which Wellington was prone, of esti- mating without regard to "party ties, opinions and even institutions, accord- ing to the results which they produced, and who mistake for weakness and versatility that which was in truth the result of moral firmness and prac- tical good sense, do not hesitate to deny the Duke's right to be accounted a statesman. And if by statesmanship be meant an aptitude for parlia- mentary warfare ; the power of sustaining or embarrassing a minister by secret cabals ; if it require the talents of a politician to prepare an ai-ena, in which ambitious individuals may contend, and to attach to his own fortunes rising influences, to retain old supporters at the same time that he con- ciliates new ; if, in a word, statesinanship consist in knowing how to direct or to defeat the thousand intrigues which are mixed up in all the public affairs of a constitutional country ; if the art of governing consist of such knowledge and such faculties as these, then Wellington was indeed a statesman of very ordinary calibre. But if we are bound to concede the title only to one who conceives, attempts, and brings to a successful issue great designs, who knows how to surmoimt unlooked-for difficulties; to disentangle complicated situations, and to create resources for himself, when mS POLITICAL PERSPICACITY. 681 all around seems desperate ; who can preserve liis calmness and self-posses- sion ill the midst of passions inflamed to madness ; who can discover the road to success, Avhich all besides have missed ; who can make head against intrigues, frustrate mischievous projects, and forget in the pursuit of one probable issue all selHsh and meaner considerations ; if, in short, we are bound to assign the title to him who arranges his plans wisely, and executes them with as much of vigour as he has exhibited prudence in their pre- paration ; if such be the qualities necessary to make wp a great statesman, then, beyond all question, Wellington as a statesman was great. What he did in the Peninsula to sustain the war, and to provide for success, in spite of the obstacles thrown in his way by the people and their indigenous governments, by the natives of the country, and, above all, by the con- flicting views of the cabinets of London, Madrid, Lisbon, and Eio Janeiro, could have been done as well neither by Canning, nor by Castlereagh, nor by Percival, nor by Lord Liverpool, nor by Sir Robert Peel ; and yet no one has ever disputed the right of any of these ministers to be accounted a great statesman. There is no end to the material proofs of perspicacity and political in- telligence with which the whole of Wellington's career abounds. What his notions were of the system of Government in India, and of the fate of the French conquests in Egypt, has been shown elsewhere. Experience justified them all, as well as the predictions recorded in a memorandum lately brought to light on the financial condition of Mysore. The reforms which he effected in the general government of Seringapatam, received the commendation of all competent judges. The same thing may be said of the modifications which he introduced into the civil administration of Portugal. Among these latter may be cited, the establishment of a mili- tary chest, a new system of customs, an improved method of raising taxes, and some important changes for the better in the management of the arsenal and dockyard as well as the liquidation of the national debt. On all these subjects the Duke entertained ideas the most just, as well as the most elevated, though his influence was not always powerful enough to force their adoption upon others. We cannot sufficiently admire the clear- headedness with which, in his tent before the enemy, he exposed the folly of an English delusion, the establishment of a bank in the Peninsula similar to that of Great Britain * ; with which he withstood the proposal to sell the property of the crown and of the clergy ; and, last of all, to throw the English army for its subsistence upon a system of requisitions, similar to that which the French had adopted since 1789. But that which goes beyond the utmost limit of praise is the exquisite tact, the consummate ability, with which he succeeded in rendering practicable a legitimate demonstration in the south of France ; and his wise course of proceeding in 1815, whereby he brought about the second * [M. Brialmont falls into the same mistake which almost all foreigners, not dealers in money, commit when speaking of the Eank of England. They seem to regard that corjjoration as a great national concern, instead of what it is — a private company, brought by accident, as much as anything else, into immediate communication with the Government.] 682 APPENDIX. restoration, in defiance of the Chambers, the army, and the people, who shouted with one voice, " Down Avith the Bourbons ! " and in spite, to a certain extent, of the allied sovereigns themselves, who entertained doubts as to the possibility, or, at all events, as to the fitness, of replacing Louis XVIII. upon the throne. Again we may refer, in proof of Wellington's political perspicacity, to the opinions which he entertained of the Peninsular nations, at different stages of the war, and the view which he took of the resources of France, as well before as after the great catastrophe of 1815. Every one of these opinions, not less than the measure which he took of the men with whom from time to time he was brought into connection, events fully justified. Indeed, so curiously accurate in those respects is his correspondence, that many of the letters might be supposed to have been written long after the events to which they refer had occurred. Thus on the 22nd of April, 1809, before the Cortes met, he wrote to his brother, Henry Wellesley, " I declare that if I were in Buonaparte's place, I should leave the English and the Cortes to settle Spain between them as they pleased ; and I should not have the smallest doubt but that in a very short time Spain would fall into the poAver of France." ..." There is not a man in this country capable of conducting the Government." . . . " I should prefer to the Cortes a wise Boiu-bon, if we could find one and make him Eegent." At a moment when the i^restige of the Empire was accepted every where, Wellington not only expressed doubts as to the stability of that edifice, which seemed as if it must endure for ages, biit pointed out dis- tinctly the causes which must operate to throw it down, and the means by which its fall might be hastened. From that hour, while prosecuting the war in Spain, he took care as much as possible to regulate his own pro- ceedings according to the general state of Europe. Something told him that the little army on the Mondego had a mighty part to play in the sanguinary drama which agitated the world, and that not the fate of the Peninsula alone was at stake, nor yet the question of England's naval supremacy, but the independence and the liberty of all nations, menaced by the ambition of one man. " Spain," says a French author*, " was then Avhat Britain used to be in the days of Ccesar, — the last rampart. Wel- lington there fixed and defended himself. His task was to gain time for Europe, that it might rally. There lay the weak point, there was the heel of Achilles, Hence the attention of Europe fixed itself, in the end, on that corner Avhere the flame smouldered, and on that man, not brilliant but determined, towards whom as yet no attention had been turned. The Emperor observed him too, and from the mountains of the North he sj^oke from time to time of falling upon the South, and putting an end to the struggle as with a thunderbolt. That deaf and dumb protest was to him a sore, irritating and ceaseless ; the blasted spot which threatened his destiny." On the 17th of March, 1810, Wellington wrote to Mr. Stewart in these terms : " The interests of the whole world are too closely connected with * Jean Lemoine. HIS ESTIMATE OF THE FRENCH EMPIRE. 683 the struggle in which we are engaged, to permit ns to withdraw one step." And again in December, 1811, to Lord W. Bentinck : " I have long con- sidered it probable that Ave shall see a general resistance throiighont Europe to the horrible and base tyranny of Buonaparte, and that we shall be called upon to play a leading part in the drama, as counsellors as Avell as actors." The same year he writes again to Lord Liverpool : "I am convinced, that if we only hold on a little longer, we shall see the Avorld emancipated." The Emperor's marriage with the Archduchess Maria Louisa produced no change in Wellington's opinions. The ceremony was scarcely over when he wrote to General Crawfurd : " The Austrian marriage is a terri- ble event, and must prevent any great movement on the continent for the present. Still I do not despair of seeing at one time or another a check to the Buonaparte system. Recent transactions in Holland shoAv, that it is all hollow within, and that it is so inconsistent with the wishes, the interests, and the existence of civilised society, that he cannot trust even his brothers to carry it into execution." In a letter dated the 5th of July, 1811, to General Dumouriez, he observes, " It is impossible that Europe can much longer submit to the debasing tyranny which oppresses it." And again to Mr. Chai'les Stuart, " Either Buonaparte must drive us out of the Peninsula, or he must lower his tone in Eui-ope." In a letter to M. Constant de Eebecque, of the olst of January, 1812, he thus expresses himself respecting the financial and territorial condition of the empire : " War is to Buonaparte's government a source of reveniie. . At first he did not seek to extend the territory of France beyond what has been called its natural limits. ... It seemed as if he Avere not ignorant of the hazards to which an empire too far extended is ex- posed. ... It was neither safe nor convenient to pillage Austria, Prussia, Russia, or Denmark. But now Buonaparte has need of the re- sources of Holland, of the Hans Towns, and of Rome, to replenish his exchequer ; and it is for this reason that he has absorbed them." Again on the 8th of August, 1813, he Avrites to Lord Bathurst : " He (Napoleon) exists internally upon the most extensive and expensive system of cor- rujition that was ever established in any country, and externally upon his military power, which is supported almost exclusively by foreign contri- butions. If he can be confined to the limits of France by any means, his system must fall. It cannot bear the expense of his internal government, and of his army ; and the reduction of either Avould be fatal to him." These views, which now appear to us obviously just, were, when first put forward, absolute novelties. No doubt there were many acute intel- lects Avho, after 1812, regarded the empire as at an end, or, at all events, considered that its downfall must be near ; but Ave are unacquainted with any single document Avhich indicates so clearly as the Wellington Cor- respondence of 1810, the source of the Aveakness and the causes Avhich Avere at Avork to effect the overthroAv of Napoleon's poAver. ; The folloAviug letter to Lord Bathurst, Avritten immediately after the passage of the Pyrenees, shoAVS hoAV Avell the Duke understood the temper of the French people ; "I am more than ever convinced that Napoleon's 684 APPENDIX. power stands upon corruption ; that he has no adherents in France but the principal officers of his army, and the employes civils of the Government, and possibly some of the new proprietors." Equally jvist is the sketch which he gives of the state of society in Paris during his residence there in 1814, and of the dangers Avhich menaced the Government of Louis XVIII. : " That miserable revolution, and its immediate consequences, have entirely ruined the nation. Everybody is poor ; and the cavse of it is, that the institutions of the country prevent any family from becoming rich and powerful. All, therefore, look to em- ployment in the public service, not, as formerly, for the honour thence arising, but for the means of subsistence. The King cannot keep up one- fourth of the imperial army ; and a horde of einploijes (Buonaparte, for reasons now well understood, took a vast number of persons into public pay) are sent about their business. If you contemplate this picture, which is perfectly true, you will not fail to discover both the cause and the nature of the perils with which we are threatened. Yet this discontent might be overcome if they would only adopt wise measures for improving the tone of public opinion."* This letter, taken with the rest which we have quoted, does honour to the good sense and clear political foresight of the Duke of "Wellington. There did not befall a single event — a single consummation of any moment — which he had not, in some sort, predicted in his despatches. It may be truly said, that he foretold in succession, the final success of the war in Spain — the influence which that war would exercise over public opinion in other nations — the general rising of Europe against Buonaparte — the fall of the empire, supported as it was by coiTuption within, and by military force without — the disastrous campaign in Eussia f — the awakening of public spirit in Germany — the triumph of the Allies in the campaign of 1813 \ — the defection of the French people attracted towards their ancient kings by an insatiable desire for repose and liberty § — the return from Elba, brought about by the blunders of the restoration, and the discontent of the army — the failure of Buonaparte's efforts to re-establish a power which never had any other foundation than the force of armies — last of all, the outburst of the Sjjanish people against Ferdinand, brought about by the stupidity of the King, and the fatal counsels of those by whom he was surrounded. Wellington saw the great advantage which would result to the Allies, and especially to the house of Bourbon, from his continuance in the south of France, and this it was which induced him so early to reject the pro- posal to serve with his army in the north of Europe. || * Letter to General Dumourlez, 26tli Nov., 1814. t Letter to Lord Bathurst, 2oth Jiily, 1812 : " If the Emperor of Eussia has any resources, and is prudent, and his Eussians will really fight, Buonaparte will not succeed." \ Letter to General Dmnouriez, 22nd Nov., 1813. § See his letter to Lord Bathurst, 10th July, 1814. II See, among others, his letter of the 10th January, 1814, to Lord Bathurst, in which he says, " Though I am quite sure that Buonaparte has no intention of making HIS FORESIGHT. G85 Towards the end of 1813, the Duke's influence had become so great that the English minister consulted him on every question of importance that arose. We see proof of this in his letter of the 22nd of February, 1814, in which the Duke explains to Lord Bathurst his views respecting the defence of Canada ; in that, of the lOtli of January, the same year, in Avhich he expresses an opinion that the Allies ought to operate by de- bouching from Mayence instead of moving through Switzerland ; and in that of the 14th of August, 1813, in which he laid down the basis, so to speak, of the final act of the Congress of Vienna : " There appears no concert, or common cause, in the negotiations for peace. There are some leading principles, however, in the political state of Europe, on which the interests of all parties should coincide, such as the independence of Spain, Germany, Italy, of Holland, and France ; the restoration of Hanover to the King's family, the re-establishment of the Eussian frontier, and of the Prussian influence over Saxony and Hesse ; a frontier for the Austrian monarchy, and influence in Germany to balance that of Prussia ; the re-estabHshment of the independence of the Hans Towns," &c. With these multitudinous proofs before him, of sagacity and political forethought, no one, it is presumed, hereafter will refuse to Wellington the title of a statesman.* The Duke of Wellington possessed great moral energy, and invincible confidence in the success of his own enterprises. When all appeared lost in Spain, and elsewhere the question raised was about the recall of the army, he wrote to the minister: "Don't despair — the enemy will con- clude by evacuating the coiuitry.""!" And on another occasion: "I am quite sure that the French Avill not take possession of Portugal this winter, at all events, imless they receive large reinforcements, and even in that case, it is probable they will not succeed." And yet again : " It is true that in the course of this campaign, Avhich has been necessarily defensive on our part, nothing very briUiant has been done. I should have run the risk, in case of failure, of being horribly abused, and of losing even the little reputation which I have acquired ; but I should have acted imtruly towards the Government, if I had not frankly declared it was my opinion that it would betray the honour and interests of the country unless it should continue its efforts in the Peninsula, of the results of which there is no reason to despair, notwithstanding the defeat at Areyzaga." Some time afterwards he wrote to Lord Liverpool : " I am greatly pleased at the news which you send me respecting the state of affairs in the north" (the probable rupture between France and Russia). "God grant they may be true ; in which case we shall see some day an end to peace, in spite of all his fine speeches and declarations, I am eq^lally sure that the people of France will compel him to do so, provided the Allies sustain no disaster." * M. Thiers, in his " History of the Consuhite and the Empire," says, " The English had lost Nelson and Pitt. Wellington, indeed, remained to them, superior to both." At the same time, the French historian dcsti-oys in some degree the effect of this eulogium by observing, a few pages fui-ther on, " The English soldier, steady and slow, was a fit instrument for the genius, little expansive, but wise and resolute, of Sir Ai'thur Wcllesley." t Letter to Lord Liverpool, 10th March, 1810. 686 APPENDIX. tliis frightful t}-ranny. Indeed, -wlietlier the present news be true or false, my firm conviction is that they will become true sooner or later, and that by holding on a little longer we shall witness the deliverance of Europe." This confidence in the future, which contributed so largely to success in the Spanish war, Wellington manifested from its very commencement. He saw likewise at the outset, that in order to arrive at a triumphant issue he must establish himself, not at Cadiz, as the Government wished, but in Portugal. Before he had even landed he wrote from on board the " Crocodile" on the 2nd of Jiily, 1808, to General Spencer: "We can do nothing more useful for the Spaniards than to occupy Portugal and or- ganise a good army there." In a note dated the 7th of March in the following year. Sir Arthur reiterated this opinion by saying, " I have always been convinced that whatever might be the result of the war in Sj^ain, it would be our duty to defend Portugal, and that the measures taken for the occupation of that country would prove eminently useflil to the Spaniards in their war with France." On the 25th of August in the same year, he wrote to Lord Castlereagh : " My opinion is that we ought to maintain ourselves in Portugal, and that we are very well able to do so if the Portuguese army and the militia are filled iip." And on the 7th of May, 1811, to Lord Liverpool : " Consider that Portugal will be the base of all your opei-ations in the Peninsula, of Avhatever nature these may be. My opinion has never varied on this point." Those who have formed their judgment after the event, consider it quite natural that Wellington should have taken Portugal as the base of his operations. We must be permitted to observe, however, that this notion, obvious and conformable as it is to the principles of strategy, did not pre- sent itself to any one, and was, on the contrary, rejected by the whole world. Sir John Moore himself had pronounced the defence of Portugal against the French army to be impossible ; and this testimony of a brave man was naturally enough placed in opposition to the Duke's views, who in consequence found it extremely difficult to press his own opinion upon the Government in London, and still more so to make the officers of his army comprehend that he was able to provide against all contingencies. He stood alone for a long time in the belief that Sjmin could be defended from Lisbon. Neither the opposition of his staff, nor the criticisms of Parliament, nor the fears of the minister, nor even his own reverses, could shake that happy confidence. Wellington's force of character exhibited itself throughout, in the contests which he was driven to maintain with his own Government in order to keep his army in the Peninsula. " I con- ceive," he Avrites on the 14th of January, 1810, to Mr. Villiers, "that the honour and interests of the country require that we should hold our ground here as long as possible, and please God I will maintain it as long as I can ; and I will neither endeavour to shift from my o^vn shoulders on those of the ministers the rcsjDonsibility for the failure, by cahing for means which I know they cannot give, and which, perhaps, would not add materially to the facility of attaining our object ; nor will I give to the ministers, who are not strong, and who must feel the delicacy of their own situation, an excuse for withdrawing the army from a position which, in HIS MORAL COURAGE. 687 my opinion, the lionour and interest of the eountiy require they should maintain as long as possible You see the dash which the Com- mon Council of the city of London has made at me. I act with a sword hanging over me, which will fall upon me, whatever may be the result of affairs here. But they may do what they please ; I shall not give up the game here as long as it can be played."* On the same day he says to Lord Liverpool, " I shall become their victim ; but I am not to be alarmed by this additional risk, and whatever may be the consequence, I shall continue to do my best in this coxmtry." On the 27th of INL'irch in the same year, Avi'iting to General Stiiart, he says, " Though the difficulties of all kinds with which we have to contend were greater than they are, the interests of Great Britain and the world are too deeply involved in this contest for us to recede one step from it which may not be rendered ab- solutely necessary by circumstances." Li holding this language Welling- ton opposed himself to the almost unanimous wish of his countrymen. "Every officer," he says, "who arrives from England tells me that the recall of the army is generally expected, and some of them even add that this expectation is entertained by the King's ministers. This is not very encouraging." At tlie period when this letter was written, the Duke had received formal orders fi-om the minister to prepare for the evaciiation of Portugal. It was probably in reference to these orders that, on the 2nd of April, he wi'ote to Lord Liverpool : " I am willing to be responsible for the evacuation of Portugal under your lordship's instructions of the 27th of February. Depend upon it, whatever people may tell you, I am not so desirous, as they imagine, of fighting desperate battles. If I Avas, I might fight one any day I please. But 1 have kept the army for six months in two positions, notwithstanding their own desire and that of the Allies, that I should take advantage of many opportunities which the enemy ap- parently offered, of striking a blow against them, in some of which the single operation would certainly have been successful. But I have looked at the great result of maintaining our position in the Peninsula, and have not allowed myself to be diverted from it by the wishes of the Allies, and probably of some of our own ai-my, that I should interfere more actively in some partial affairs ; or, by the opinion of others, that we ought to quit the country prematurely : and I have not harassed my troops by marches and counter-marches, in conformity to the enemy's movements. I believe that the world and the Peninsida begin to believe that I am right." On the 19th of December, 1810, he wi-ites again to Lord LiverjDool : " All things considered, I have not the slightest doubt of the final success of my opera- tions : and whether I succeed or not, I am convinced that my system is the only one which can be attended with advantages." On the 25th of May, 1811, he says to Mr. Villiers, " I persevered in the system which I thought best, notwithstanding that it was the opinion of every British officer in the country that I ought to embark the army ; while, on the other hand, the Portuguese civil authorities contended that the war ought to be maintained on the frontier, for which they Avanted not only physical * Letter to Mr. Villiers, 2nd January, 1810. 688 APPENDIX. force, but tlie means of providing for the force •which they could j)roduce in the field. I believe nothing but something more than firmness could have carried me through the nine months' discussion with these contend- ing opinions. To this add, that the people in England were changing their opinions almost with the wind, and you will see that I have not much to look to, excepting myself." The Opposition made vain efforts to shake this rare firmness, — a com- bination of faith in the future and of confidence in himself. "Wellington did not even endeavoiu' to cast upon others the responsibility of a struggle, the least failure in which would have proved fatal to his reputation. He accepted frankly his share of the impopularity Avhich attended the capitu- lation of Cintra. He openly avowed himself to be the author of the strong measures Avhich were taken for the defence of Portugal. He exposed him- self boldly to the attacks of the Opposition, who accused the Government of having compromised the success of the campaign of Talavera, in the unfortunate expedition to Walcheren, by writing the following letter, of which the prime minister made use, in order to relieve the Cabinet fi-om its responsibility : " You will perhaps be glad to know, that I don't think affairs would have been in a better state here, if you had sent your great expedition into Spain, instead of to the Scheldt." Wellington exhibited the same self-denial in 1813, by writing to the Prime Minister thus : " It is not the Government which ought to be attacked for the want of success in the siege of Burgos ; it had nothing whatever to say to the siege, it was entirely my own act." However critical his situation might he^ the Duke never clamoiu-ed for succours which he knew that the Government was not in a condition to supply. " I believe," he writes to Mr. Villiers, " enjoying as I do the con- fidence of the ministers, being aware of their resources, the use they make of them, and the difficiilties of every kind with which they have to con- tend, it would be dishonourable in me to propose in my despatches mea- sures which they could not adopt, notwithstanding the advantages which might result from them. I know very well," he adds, " that 40,000 men could do what 30,000 could not. But when the ministers cannot find them, Avould it be right, would it be honourable in me, to ask for a single man more than is absolutely necessary for the accomplishment of the object which I have in view?""}" The more adverse circumstances became, and the more politicians kept aloof from him, the greater readiness Wellington exhibited to add to his own labours and responsibilities. This strength of character and admirable perseverance produced results which military genius alone never could have brought aboiit. It was by the possession of these qualities that he kept his army from becoming discouraged under circumstances, when * See letters to Lord Livei-pool, 2oth August, and 6th Dec. 1809, and 23rd Nov. 1812. t See also letter to Lord Liverpool, 19th August, 1813 : " I have never been in the habit of troubling Government with requisitions for forces, but have always carried on the service, to the best of my ability, with that which has been placed at my disposal." Ills MODERATION IN SUCCESS. 689 fortune seemed almostto have deserted liim. To this fact, General Stewart, among others, one of the principal actors in the war of the Peninsula, refers. " When we learned at Deleytosa," he says, " after the battle of Talavera, that the Austrians were overthrown, the whole army became disheartened. It was believed that it would be impossible to make head against the French. Sir Arthiu- did not share in this opinion. He spoke and acted as if events had taken the course which he desired, and this opinion led every one of us to believe that the commander-in-chief had foreseen all, and provided against it." The same author says again : " I do not pretend to blame any officer, but this I will venture to say, that there was but one man in the army who did not despair of the undertaking, and that was Sir Arthm- Wellesley. So far from desponding, he affirmed that he was quite able to defend Portugal, even if Spain should submit." Perseverance, calm and energetic like this, proves that Wellington had perfect confidence in his own plans of campaign, at which he arrived, not till after deep study, and the most laborious consideration of every possible contingency. Before carrying a project into effect, he was accustomed to examine it in all its bearings, and to provide against all results. His judgment:, always sound, was acted upon neither by fear nor by enthusiasm. For this reason it was, that he took juster views of things than other men, and calculated every issue of an operation before he undertook it. Hence, in I8I1, heAvrote to Lord Liverpool, " Spain will in the end throw off the yoke of France." On the I7th of October, in the same year, to Admiral Berkeley, " I am firmly of opinion, that the enemy will not succeed in his attack upon Lisbon; " to Lord Liverpool, " The French army of the north, and that of Andalusia, will probably not come to the support of Massena ; " to the Minister of War, " Cadiz has been fortified, as well as Portugal; it may therefore be doubted, whether the French will ever take either the one or the other ; " to Lord Bathurst, on the 1 2th of July, 1813, "I believe that I could guard the Pyrenees as easily as I can Portugal ; " and on the 18th of June, 1815, before the battle of Waterloo, at three in the morning, " Keep the English quiet, I beg of you, as much as you can. Let them be ready to start ; but don't let them get hurried or frightened, for all will turn out well for us." One virtue, not often found, Wellington possessed to a high degree, namely, moderation in success, and clemency after victory. His instincts caused him very easily to understand, that to govern, men must not hate ; and, as a distinguished writer expresses it, that " great statesmen are generous in their natures." In 1803, when the war with the Mahrattas Avas about to open. Sir Arthur Wellesley issued the following proclama- tion : " General Wellesley does not intend to make war upon the in- habitants. Amildars and others are therefore required to remain quietly at their stations, and to obey such orders as they shall receive. If they do no injury to the British army, no injury will be done to them." In 1804, after having reduced these barbarous people to subjugation, he re- commended the Peishwah " to proclaim a general pardon and amnesty, as the best means of re- establishing his authority, as well as order and in- ternal tranquillity." " The war will never come to an end," he Avrote to 690 APPENDIX. the Governor-General, " unless he publish a general pardon ; and I do not suppose the Government wishes English troops to become the instruments of the Peishwah's vengeance." In the same spirit he wrote to the president of the English council at Poonah. " I am of opinion, that as soon as the war is brought to an end, every feeling of animosity should cease." And again to Colonel Miu-ray, " Treat the Mahrattas with the greatest kindness, with the utmost possible forbearance." When, in 1810, the Prince Regent of Portugal, acting on the solicita- tions of the Court of London, gave Wellington authority to dismiss Souza and the Bishop of Oporto, his two most determined enemies, he abstained from exercising it. He even kept in their places functionaries devoted to the interests of the fidalgos; believing that more was to be gained by gentleness and forbearance, than by harshness, dependent on physical force. He had, indeed, the mortification to see that his excellent inten- tions were misunderstood ; yet this did not prevent him fi-om writing, three days afterwards, of his own accord, to the Regency in Madrid, and advising the publication of a general amnesty, in favour of all Spaniards then iu exile. " If my efforts," he says, " to free the country fi-om its oppressors be crowned with success, negotiations must, sooner or later, be opened for the conclusion of a definitive peace between Spain and France ; and the amnesty will remove the main difficulty which stands in the way of the completion of such an arrangement. Besides, all these exiles, some of them very wealthy, others possessed of even gi-eat ability, will act as a sort of rallying point in France, by means of which the revolutionary party Avill always be able to disturb the internal tranquillity of Spain." In order rightly to appreciate Wellington's noble and generous views, the letter from which we have just quoted must be read at length. We may be permitted once again to refer to the appeal made by him, in 1810, to Lord Liverpool, with the view of getting up in England a national subscription for the Portuguese riiined by the war ; and the strong mea- sures which he adopted to prevent the pillage of the provinces invaded by his troops, notwithstanding that the inhabitants of these provinces were very ill-disposed towards him.* The whole of the Duke's career abounds in traits of this kind. It has been shown how he received and brought up the son of Doondiah, found upon one of the battle-fields of India ; how he interested himself in favour of General Franceschi t, the young Mascai'henas, and many other victims of the cruelty of the Spanish Government; and with what solicitude he protected, against the fury of the Portuguese, the wounded, and such of the enemy's soldiers as the fortune of war threw into his hands after the evacuation of Oporto in 1809. On the latter occasion, he addressed to the * The Duke's moderation and forbearance sometimes conflicted -with the views of the English Government ; as, for example, when the English Government withdi-ew the licences which the Duke had granted to French trading vessels, after the captm-e of St. Jean de Luz. t A French general, whom the Junta of Seville, iu spite of "Wellington's remonstrances and entreaties, left to die in a pestilential dungeon. THE FRENCH .iND ENGLISH GENEROUS ENEMIES. G9I inhabitants tlie following proclamation : " The French troops having been expelled this town, by the superior gallantry and discipline of the army under my command, I call upon the inhabitants of Oporto to be merciful to the wounded and prisoners. By the laws of war they are en- titled to my protection, which I am determined to aiFord to them." In order to secure similar protection for his own soldiers, the Duke, well aware of the humanity of the French officers, wrote, on the 9th of August, 1 809, to General Kellerman, in these terms : " Having the honour of your acquaintance, I venture to ask your good offices with the commander- in-chief of the French army, and to recommend to you my wounded. J£ it be Marshal Soult who commands, he owes me all the care which he can bestow upon these brave soldiers, because I saved his, when the for- tune of war placed them in my hands, from the fiiry of the Portuguese people, and they were well taken care of." In point of fact, he had permitted the French surgeons to attend to the sick of Soult's army, and to pass to and fro from the allied camp with a safe conduct. The French, touched by these chivalrous proceedings, were anxious to repay them ; and hence it was that Marshal Victor caused provisions to be distributed among the English whom he found in the hospital at Talavera, when his own men were dying of hunger.* Thanks to this interchange of good offices, the struggle, which was carried on with so much barbarism between the French and the inhabitants of the Peninsula, never lost, be- tween the English and the French, the character of civilised warfare. At Talavera, during one of the intervals of the battle, the soldiers from the two armies might be seen descending to a little stream, which meandered through the middle of the plain, to refresh themselves, and mutually to compliment each other upon the gallantry which they had displayed diu-ing the morning. The Spaniards, always vindictive, pursued a diametrically opposite course. Indeed, after the battle, the English came to blows with Cuesta's soldiers, in order to prevent them from killing or mutilating the wounded Frenchmen.! Take another trait, which does honour to Wellington's army : — On the 25th of July, 1810, Marshal Ney, after having driven in General Crawfurd, determined to follow him across the Coa. On two different occasions he endeavoured to pass the bridge upon that river ; but Avas repulsed. At the second attempt, while the fire was still going on, a French surgeon, waving his handkerchief, sat down to dress the French woimded, amidst a shower of projectiles. His courage and hiimanity Avere respected, every musket was turned away from him, though his * " The French general 'officer!? have, in general, behaved remarkably well to the British officers and soldiery who fell into their hands, in consequence of the march of the Spanish army from Talavera de la Reyna, in the month of August last, and in many instances, they have supplied the officers with money."— Letter to Lord Liverpool, 17th Dec, 1809. t How different was the conduct of the English, who, after the battle of Busaco, permitted the French to come and remove their wounded, and even assisted them in the performance of that sacred duty ! Y Y 2 692 APPENDIX. countrymen, whose courage could not be I'^sti-ained, were forming for a third attack.* M. Chateaubriand has described another trait of humanit}', quite as honourable, in a letter addressed in ]815 to the "Journal de Paris." " We have too much respect for glory to withhold our admu-ation from Lord Wellington ; indeed, we are touched even to tears, when we see that great and venerated man promising, during oiu- retreat in Portugal, two guineas for every prisoner who should be brought to him alive." These acts should be imderstood by the French, for in tr^^th he esta- blished between the two armies such an exchange of good offices as did honour- to humanity, even amid scenes of the wildest carnage. The Prince of Essling had no sooner an-ived at Torres Vedras than he was anxious to reconnoitre the EngHsh lines. " He found himself," says M. Thiers, " under one of the enemy's batteries, Avhich he examined with a glass resting uj^on a low garden wall. The English officers, who distinctly recognised the illustrious marshal, exhibited a feeling worthy of civilised nations, when they are unfortunately reduced to the necessity of making war. By a general dischai'ge of their guns they might have overwhelmed the staff of the commander-in-chief with bullets, and probably destroyed himself; they fired but one shot in order to make him aware of the danger, and with such accuracy that they beat do^vn the wall on which his glass rested. Massena understood the courteous notice, saluted the battery, and remounting his horse rode away/'f In a cavalry affair after the combat of El Bodon, 1811, a French officer was on the point of cutting down Captain Felton Harvey, when he perceived that that gallant soldier had lost an arm ; he immediately gave his horse another dii'ection, saluted his adversary with his sword, and passed on. | The same year General Hill put to the rout at Aroyo da Moliuos, Gerard's division of Drouet's corps. During the combat, an Austrian officer, called Sternowitz, who had formerly served in the French army, fell into Gerard's hands. He would have iindoubtedly been condemned and shot, had not Hill, trusting to the generosity of his opponent, entreated to have that officer sent back as a personal favoiir to himself. Drouet, notwithstanding the severe check which his troops had sustained, granted the request, and sent back the prisoner, who was besides a gallant soldier. In the night between the 9th and 10th of June, 1811, the English as- saulted Fort St. ChristoA'al at Badajoz, where Captain Jondion commanded. The assault was repulsed and the ditch crowded Avith dead. " In the midst of the confusion some English officers implored the generous compassion of their enemies. The gallant Jondion, who was at the head of liis people upon the ramparts, shouted out to the officers to plant one of the ladders and to come up into the fort, where he woidd give them the assistance * Napier, vol. v. p. 351. t History of the Consiilate and the Empire, vol. iii. p. 417. + Napier, vol. vii. p. 318. THEIR MUTUAL KINDNESS. Cision B Sherbroke's Divtsiirn (' Maokenxte 's „ n Caniphell's E JSnj^Tish du/aZry G Spanish In/ruitfi/, H iuht. # M Fort or c/rey ./ Cfaes LINES OF T()HI{i:S VKDKAS. m c PL. J. BATTLE of fllENTES B'ONORO./ 5*^ May \m. \ CIUDAD Roimiotr Metriahxt .f'%..- GalUae spyja 'xim ^==, ^/l '-i^ /' II J '"iiimmm^^^ "K ^^w* V»;fc' ^ave (h Aoel Fraihda Jiiiwaii m**^'"^ £xplanatioii A. .i^ British Division t J"' , E 7^ „ r SritisA (hvaZri^ \ i/i ttuvcA C, Miffht JJivui^nn \fothfria?>t H (kirril/ru o/" ./uhcui SancheK f ^f^At Dif/ ^rrtiee/ in saiturct wtt/i (I troop of'Aiir:ff ar-fi^lery protecting fAe Ir/t o/'tAe mval* if ' ii>/iiist tAe rii^At^euiJh re- reiifee/ pr-otrcfion /rmti tAe r'* J>n>is,on fa'' f>. 2''/^rf/icA Co?-ps ^iilfl^ L Av J^grrey »/' tAe ff'^ Corps lA. ff'^-Corps' N Ttuo Div^ o/^' (Ae 0'"^ Corps. V One JHo" of (AeS"^ Corps JL Cavalry of J/ontbnm u 77ie i.u7jvameed reffime/tts of the ^rern^L cfiucUry cAaryiyiy tAe^ BritisA- r^ua/ry. op /last position of tAr centre (vtcC tAe nyAt of tAf SntxsA army p L ast position of tAe ^'^ Divisiott. ' '%c* a CIGO, PL 8. S cale . I " 1 ' L £ngran'td by .r Chtu SIEGE OF ('iri)AD RODRIGO, o '/4 ■». /-^j PL 9. * P /// •'I M<'tui (5, ;=-^^ =g=^ — o'' I'jlltll n/ Ity ,T C&":r SIKGK OK BADAJOZ. Msroh ami April 1812 Foit (!,• l',ij-d^i!e TiH<- df I'onl ForlS'Chnslovil 1 c^' 4Wc«a^?<'^"-'- \,: ^CA. PL 10. Snffraveii iy T CJw.s BATTLE OP^ SALAM/VNCA. 22 .lulv 1812 '^^ "^"^ -<> >T\ ■1^ ^^5<*r '."^L .^ ,4^ A /W./.VW ^'rfr/Jw^ wrf«/r wm.^v e*,/^to blfrrrgitAe /\^.lJ U f >CrtV-«J »/■ rfr J'>WKy» *-/? ^ Iba dt Tonnes D M^z/adf a/'/hrOifiuare raiiaby and two stfii iJr ans o/-En ^//M eaualry- e M/n/fm vtt oftht J'^Btvirie n iPakmltam *f c qauti TMomi rta- M lAe rnanufif t u JOiuuion was t. Ui/HD FGH1KI.M Sit^tijh lint ofbaftte of t^e m m *"'gr rtteA hnt^fbatffrm tAtmon,^tor,faidt el Poiina. 1 f/' «»< ADitj on m '"j"*'g^'»'«' ^Ae .^'^I/ioifion. ^fl^e Portnyuae caualry bruf lu itt ,y e», t S>ty/,\iA ^yuadrons 1 /loc*r brigade t^ miMifrj^ ^ ito .•V l.,^AfI/,t,uior,._l/-'JJiuuto. ■> _s tf^y y-rf^ i •^Dw- 6 /iMr/7 tf br^ ofJ\u*, -7 6 J^Zto- etim.-9 e^JJiv" ^\a ■-^Dio" _ii Ffrtti J br,/ W .1^>*« in/ftH/rj/ tatdrr Hat 0,ri^-x^l< K« ^^^ , )i^,^=3.^ .-i^. X. ^1 -^V*- rfti^C V/ % \>f\( t^!^ C^ ^ C PL. II. 1 ';;'!' ''illiilij'; i!:i'7//'//' SIECE OF BURGOS Sept mA Oct 1812 '"'III I'fMw "*^^^^ PL. 12. BATTLE OF VITTORIA. 21".luiLe 18U^ f: . I2i. T?r^ f'.iii/raueH hi/ J (yai' SIEGE OF S^ SEBASTIAN, U July to '1 Srpl 1(113 PL Idf. Knh,;,,,^,/ A,/ / //., BATTLE OF ORPHKS. r J\,../,,tuctl Ay./ t/u H) April inU ratclauJ/H "TX ■?^ ^C iMr ^f jP*». ^3 :;h>.TS .\femtaii(lraii /K^'a iUoiitplaisir / V^ilLy '- / Kxplanation. A PosUton of Htll hf/or,- ihr battle . a Jrot^K of Mafiin/ei/i '.t diuision . b DorHrau V ifi'i'i'ston . r ^oon Conserifitj tmxirr (iairrat Jrauot d /fnrr.t/te s du'i^ivit tfe/enthftff the u/onkf on Mont Have . c ^ru/ of S* Pot before tAe arrt(»a oftfU Spanish nrmt/. e- .1" ,f >tfier ci" li" f Hen„unT f''rnern/ Vinf'x eavtih'if V 7'Are syuadrons of Cm !ir//'s e^oafrt^ ut ob.teroution oi efijf ri Grmtim fm^^mU H Pirion 's divixton 1 Aften'.t ffffAt diuuton K ffvt/re .r fw.fiftan luAe/i atfat^aig the _i/rffit redoitbt L \'itiuin'.t briffade^fhreini/ the bridt^e Monfaudi-ei/t - MM lin,it paattion ^ this br^ttde. :4-) -'-■4.. Li n l.SLH OF HAMIKJI Villi yfi'^'y''^'' /f f. Fh.lo. <6hi-ifi. corps Buloin. roops ■qfr/iiit foTps. twH of'ChassJ L ■.. I.ohitu . „ Doiiumt ftnfi Suhcrnic of Pt'iissnuis o/ter- ff o/~ 7'rencA,6rnve&i 7 an// ff o'cioci of PircA at S o'c/oM' "ards Tcroiru liachela Pire' Quiot Durul/f , p kj Jimjuinjit. Cav!^ LhrrlUer ,. \^k<-JJ/t liou,f.frl ., (fa nutn WtitJiifr J)cliir( Corps of" Lohnu l)u>. UpnuiiU - i)fquut/ran3 II) Sulii/itir - "^u . tf^ 17 VMiJiitx ,' , \HhaUxiU.-^ 18 Old s^""<' \ i:> hatttUl-' Iff (ao.iif'tfie (ktarii z^-tt/uadiniis f cfintmHi inisT\'icJ! £ tioAhaxL. k bnff Scunut;30E'.l 1 Doniberg ^j ensdiild „ , . Oi ant „ JnJ t ' Tnp Tanlffierleii Dttfdai Detnijewi. dAntrenriB." ..CJiasse MUhauA ;Vaa\5itcke iPaxi iBybaid ;?iempfc ;]ianu>ert. il'oiisuiiiy iVajuleieirr ■Vivian. -Perpon- : cher .Colt- .PMrni , .ftnM»>d»a; .ridrai ..Colt BATTLE OF \\:ATERL()0 IB 1 re in Aiia-lo Netlierlaiiders »«rfA l-'fe'il P'«!4»^ Y'"^ i\incke J^cttn li Cnnuaflobau \ Bylmwl J! 3 flu* Vomant ffsfutu/rem « Sen gt J b Ju/ r t * „, » 1 inbi^ < c v':.x University of California SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 405 Hilgard Avenue, Los Angeles, CA 90024-1388 Return this material to the library from which it was borrowed. ITHFRN HE'jKjNAI LIBRARY FACILITY A 000 164 304 8 \.-:a Vr- \ TaVH .v.: