During the year 1831, while the discussions on the Reform Bill were going on, the Duke made frequent speeches against the measure, and led the opposition in the House of Lords in a manner quite consistent with his declaration in November. In a speech he made on the 28th March, explanatory of the causes of his resignation, he distinctly denied that the reform fever was owing to that declaration, and asserted that it was to be attributed to the effect on the public mind of the revolutions in France and Belgium.

On the 10th of October, after the Reform Bill had been thrown out in the House of Lords, the Duke of Wellington was insulted by a mob on his way to the house. In the evening, the windows of his mansion at Hyde Park-corner were broken. It is to be lamented that any class of Englishmen were to be found so degraded as to be guilty of this ingratitude.

Fortunately, the worst of the evil was averted, by the total indifference of the Duke to all such demonstrations. The greatest men have been despisers of mankind, of the swaying multitude, that is to say, the unthinking, the headstrong, and the violent—not of necessity merely, from that intrinsic superiority and natural antagonism which forbid their commingling; but also, and with a more hearty potency, from the experience which they, alternately the adored or the scorned, have had of the inconstancy of the giddy people. In this light estimation, indeed, of the judgment of their less worthy fellows, lies the secret of their greatness and their strength. They ride towards their goal while the stream tends that way, and when the course of the current is diverted, they are not dismayed. Their scorn of the means leads them to pass on by their own strength, or to rest secure on the foundation-rock of our moral nature—principle, and the consciousness of duty done.

In April, 1832, on the motion for the second reading of the new Reform Bill in the House of Lords, the Duke made a speech, characterised by unqualified opposition to the measure, at a time when many of the conservative peers (called "waverers,") were for giving it a qualified support. But, after a defeat of ministers in committee, on Lord Lyndhursts motion of the 7th of May, followed by their resignation, and when the king, rather than agree to create peers, called on the Duke of Wellington to form an administration, he expressed his readiness to do so upon the principle of moderate reform.

This sudden inconsistency the public could not understand; the Duke's avowed reason was that when called on by his sovereign he could not leave him alone in his difficulty. However, the Duke's efforts were brought to a summary conclusion by the refusal of Sir Robert Peel to join in the attempt.

It is amusing to see the opposite Views these two statesmen took of their duties to their king. Sir Robert Peel considered that "his acceptance of office pledged to carry an efficient Reform Bill, he being a determined enemy to such a measure, would be a political immorality which would not allow him to enter on his services with a firm step, a light heart, and an erect attitude." The Duke said, "if he had refused to assist his majesty, because he had hitherto given his opposition to parliamentary reform, he would not have been able to show his face in the streets for shame of having deserted his sovereign in circumstances so painful and alarming." The result of Sir Robert's refusal was, that the Duke gave up the attempt, and Earl Grey was recalled.

During the sessions of 1833 and 1834, the Duke was the leader of the opposition in the House of Lords; always at his post, and always ready to grapple with the different questions brought before the peers. On the 9th of June, 1834, took place his installation as Chancellor of the University of Oxford;—a brilliant scene, at which some of the most distinguished men of the day assisted.

In November, 1834, on the death of Lord Spencer, and the dismissal of the whig ministry, the king called on the Duke of Wellington to form an administration. The Duke recommended his majesty to entrust that office to Sir Robert Peel, who, however, was then at Rome. During the interval that elapsed before his arrival, the Duke accepted, provisionally, the office of First Lord of the Treasury, and the seals of the three secretaryships of state. On Sir Robert Peel's arrival, he gave up the government, with the exception of the office of Secretary for Foreign Affairs, which (December 9th) he retained.

Much clamour was at this time raised against the Duke by the whigs, on the old score of dictatorship, and also as to a supposed insult offered to Lord Melbourne.

On the meeting of parliament in the following February (on the 24th), the Duke gave an explanation of his conduct (inserted in this volume), sufficient to clear him in all impartial eyes of all the charges then urged against him by party spirit.

On the 8th of April following, in consequence of the repeated defeats sustained in the House of Commons by Sir Robert Peel, the conservative ministry resigned, and with them of course the Duke of Wellington. From that time until the re-accession of Sir Robert Peel to power, in 1841, the Duke continued to lead, with his accustomed vigour and unpretending ability, the opposition in the House of Lords. In this position, he exercised the utmost forbearance towards the government; never using his power except when circumstances absolutely required its exercise.

One of these instances occurred at the opening of the session of 1836, when the principles of a particular measure were recommended in a speech from the throne. To the address the Duke moved an amendment, condemnatory of the practice of thus pledging the sovereign in a speech from the throne to the principles of any measure. The amendment was agreed to by the whigs.

During the whole interval between 1833 and 1841, the Duke is to be found occasionally speaking in the upper house, in his capacity of leader of opposition. The same sound practical sense which has been already attributed to him, characterised his whole proceedings. It is needless to particularise the different important debates in which he took part.

In August, 1839, a grand banquet was given to the Duke at Dover, as Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports. A splendid pavilion was erected for the occasion, in which two thousand persons, including some most distinguished men, sat down to dinner. The gallery was filled with ladies. The most interesting point in the day's proceedings, was when Lord Brougham, the most active and distinguished civilian of his age, rose to propose the health of the Duke of Wellington, the most illustrious military commander. Eulogium could scarcely he carried farther than it was by Lord Brougham in these words:—

"Although no man," said the noble and learned lord, "on such an occasion, is entitled to entertain any personal feelings on his own behalf, it would be affectation—it would be insolent ingratitude—were I not to express the sentiments which glow within my bosom, at being made the instrument of making known those feelings which reign predominant in yours. Enough, however, of myself—now for my mighty subject.—But the choice you have made of your instrument—of your organ, as it were, on this occasion—is not unconnected with that subject; for it shows that on this day, on this occasion, all personal, all political feelings are quelled—all strife of party is hushed—that we are incapable, whatever be our opinions, of refusing to acknowledge transcendant merit, and of denying that we feel the irresistible impulse of unbounded gratitude; and I am therefore asked to do this service, as if to show that no difference of opinion upon subjects, however important—no long course of opposition, however contracted upon public principles—not even long inveterate habits of public opposition—are able so far to stifle the natural feelings of our hearts, so far to obscure our reason, as to prevent us from feeling as we ought—boundless gratitude for boundless merit. Neither can it pluck from our minds that admiration proportioned to the transcendant genius, in peace and in war, of him who is amongst us to-day; nor can it lighten or alleviate the painful, the deep sense which the untried mind never can get rid of when it is overwhelmed by a debt of gratitude, too boundless to be repaid. Party—the spirit of party—may do much, but it cannot operate so far as to make us forget those services; it cannot so far bewilder the memory, and pervert the judgment, and eradicate from our bosoms those feelings which do us the most honour, and are the most unavoidable, and, as it were, dry up the kindly juices of the heart; and, notwithstanding all its vile and malignant influence on other occasions, it cannot dry up those juices of the heart so as to parch it like very charcoal, and make it almost as black. But what else have I to do? If I had all the eloquence of all the tongues ever attuned to speak, what else could I do? How could a thousand words, or all the names that could be named, speak so powerfully—ay, even if I spoke with the tongue of an angel, as if I were to mention one word—Sir Arthur Wellesley, Duke of Wellington, the hero of a hundred fields, in all of which his banner was waved in triumph; who never, I invoke both hemispheres to witness—bear witness Europe, bear witness Asia—who never advanced but to cover his arms with glory; the captain who never advanced but to be victorious; the mightier captain who never retreated but to eclipse the glory of his advance, by the yet harder task of unwearied patience, indomitable to lassitude, the inexhaustible resources of transcendant skill, showing the wonders, the marvels of a moral courage never yet subdued. Despising all who thwarted him with ill-considered advice—neglecting all hostility, so he knew it to be groundless—laughing to scorn reviling enemies, jealous competitors, lukewarm friends, ay, hardest of all, to neglect despising even a fickle public, he cast his eye forwards as a man might—else he deserves not to command men—cast forward his eye to a time when that momentary fickleness of the people would pass away, knowing that in the end the people are always just to merit."

The Duke's acknowledgement, was simple, according to his character, and modest as became his position. He said, "The noble lord, who I hope will allow me to call him my noble friend, has stated to you with great truth, that there are times and circumstances in which, and under which, all feelings of party, all party animosity, all descriptions of political feelings must be laid aside. I must do my noble and learned friend the justice to say, that for years and years there has been nothing of that description in social life as between him and me, notwithstanding which it is certainly true that I have had the misfortune of differing in opinion with my noble and learned friend upon many points of internal and possibly of other descriptions of policy. But I am afraid that, notwithstanding my most anxious wish to co-operate with all of you in the public service in which we have all been employed, I may happen (I know it does happen) to differ with some of you upon subjects of political interest to the country. But my noble and learned friend judges of you correctly when he says that such feelings of difference would not prevent you—as they have not prevented you—from doing me the honour of inviting me to this festival, and of bringing here to meet me not only the whole of this interesting county, but persons from all parts of the kingdom and even from abroad. Therefore my noble and learned friend does you as well as himself justice when he states that there are occasions—occasions in relation to individuals as well as in relation to public interests and services—in which all feelings of party politics and opinions must be laid aside, in order to carry on the public service to the greatest point of advantage to the public interest. I have had sufficient experience in public life to know that this must be the case. I am convinced that it is that feeling which has induced you to pay this tribute of respect to the person holding the situation of Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports, in order that you might encourage others hereafter to perform their duty honestly and conscientiously in the same honourable office."

On the 18th November, the same year, the Duke had an attack of epilepsy, which for a short time alarmed the public greatly for his safety, on account of his advanced age. Sir Astley Cooper and Dr. Hume were down at Walmer with him for a week, at the end of which time he recovered, greatly to the joy of the whole nation. It turned out that the Duke had brought on the attack adopting, to cure himself of a slight illness, a mode of treatment which would not be the most wise in a man of twenty-five, but was most dangerous to one so advanced in years. The Duke is very determined on such points—can never be persuaded that he is not the same man in point of constitution that he was when in the Peninsula; and still preserves all the hardy habits of a soldier's life. On this occasion he had sought to cure himself by fasting and cold bathing: he then, while under this treatment, followed the hounds, the consequence of which was that he fainted, and was soon afterwards seized as described.

On the return of Sir Robert Peel to power, in 1841, the Duke of Wellington again joined him; but this time he took no office, though accepting a seat in the cabinet. He still continued to lead in the lords, where his influence is fully felt, and where he constantly astonishes the house and silences his detractors by displaying a degree of knowledge on all legislative subjects scarcely compatible with his military education, and an activity and attention to business that would be admirable in any one, but which are still more praiseworthy as the voluntary service of a man who has conferred such distinguished benefits on his country.

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Few men have been so blessed by fortune as to have been enabled to achieve a first-rate reputation in arms, and afterwards to arrive at as great distinction in the arts of peace. Rarely, at long intervals in the lapse of time, such opportunities have been afforded to great men; but still more rarely have even the greatest men been able to use them. To the Duke of Wellington, in our own time, has this high honour been especially vouchsafed; and no man ever yet lived who shewed himself more worthy the distinction, or more able to fulfill the demands of his country, whether in peace or in war. His youth and prime were spent in achieving victories: to preserve to posterity the fruits of those victories, in steady government, together with free institutions; to make England such an example for foreign nations as would render all such victories unnecessary hereafter; this has been the still more glorious task of his declining years.

The military reputation of the Duke of Wellington rests on so firm a basis, that it will never be shaken. So long as military science is necessary in the world, so long will his system of tactics be followed by commanders responsible in their own hearts for the lives of their soldiers, and to their country for the conduct of their enterprises.

Of the military value of his dispositions and movements, military critics have recorded, almost universally, their unqualified praise. To civilians, it is left to admire the constant and watchful care of the Duke, whether in India or the Peninsula, in securing the due provision for his troops, while he at the same time maintained the strictest honour towards the natives who supplied them; and to respect the clearness of his perception, the sagacity of his decisions, and, above all, the firmness and determination of purpose which sustained him amidst every drawback and difficulty, until by his success he compelled his detractors to yield themselves captive to his judgment. It is only necessary to read the dispatches and general orders of the Duke of Wellington, in order to be convinced that he is not a mere soldier winning battles by superior tactics, but that he is also a man of a very high order of general talent, with an unusual insight into human nature, and possessing almost an instinctive knowledge of how mankind are to be governed. By that wonderful exposition of the comprehensive, wise, and philanthropic mind of the man, even his enemies were subdued.

Much controversy has been spent upon the demeanour of the Duke towards his soldiers, which has been stigmatised as cold, distant, at times harsh, and even selfish. For the charges of coldness and distance there appears to be some foundation. Unlike Napoleon, the Duke of Wellington never appealed to the enthusiasm of his soldiers; but he always relied upon their sense of duty. He regarded his army, organized by discipline, as a perfect machine, upon the performance of which he could calculate with precision, and as he never expected it to do more than it ought, so he never looked to see it do less. The idea of duty, of absolute responsibility and subordination from rank to rank, seems to have been that to which he was always content to appeal. Accordingly, his troops never failed him. Their rock-like steadfastness and constant unimpulsive bravery, it was that enabled him to carry out his plans with such certainty.

The contrast to Napoleon is no Where more seen than in the dispatches of the one and the bulletins of the other. In his demeanour to his men, the Duke was reserved; in his language, curt and laconic. If his troops felt the moral certainty that he was leading them to victory, and honoured him accordingly, it was not from personal enthusiasm, such as the wild love the emperor inspired in those around him, but from a deep respect for his character and a reliance on his talents. Nor did he condescend to charlatantism or bombast, as his great rival too often did. There is not the slightest trace of vanity about him. Compare the speech of the one to his army, beneath the Pyramids, with the simple, "Up, guards, and at them!" of the other. In these trifles, we find the key to the real minds of great men.

The political character of the Duke, and his services as a civilian, have never been sufficiently appreciated by the great mass of his countrymen. His brilliant military reputation cast into the shade his sterling but unobtrusive services as a senator and as a minister. It was even the fashion, for a long time, to assert that his taking office at all was a sign of defective judgment. Indeed, when he declared, in the House of Lords, that he would be "worse than mad to think of such a thing," he gave a colour to the supposition. His subsequent assertion, after he had become prime minister, that he had done so "because nobody else would," conveyed, in all probability, the simple truth. The Duke did not know his own capacity for government, until it was tried.

Another reason why his positive worth, as a politician, has not been so universally admitted as his military merit, is that, in the imaginations of a large portion of the public, he has been identified with a party. This, in a country where party spirit is so strong and so universal, would alone be sufficient to secure his being misunderstood by all those who are not of the party to which he is alleged to be devoted. But it is a mistake to call the Duke of Wellington a party man; that is to say, in the ordinary sense of the word. It is true that, during the greater part of his life he has acted with what is called the conservative party, because in England no man can expect to serve his country efficiently, unless he enlists under some political banner or other. But there is a great difference between acting generally with a party, and the adoption of all its animosities and prejudices: and this difference the Duke of Wellington appears always to have perceived and acted upon. Wherever the choice has lain between the opinions of his party and the general good of his country, the Duke has always preferred his country to his party; and if that is the character of a party man, may all politicians be speedily imbued with the same sentiments!

Notwithstanding this distinction, however, it is certain that the known opinions of the Duke of Wellington, and his ultimately taking office as the prime minister of the tory party, did lead to the belief that he was a party man, and directed towards him all those animosities and all that depreciating rancour which party spirit engenders, and which party tactics perpetuate; so that during a period of some four or five years his distinguished reputation as a soldier was obscured in the minds of many millions of his country, who,—and this remark applies more particularly to the years 1829, 1830, and 1831,—laid themselves open to the charge of being guilty of that meanest and basest of all crimes, ingratitude.

Happily, within the last ten years, a total change has come over the public mind. Those ill-grounded animosities are forgotten: the long and unparalleled services of the Duke are remembered: and a re-action, produced by a sense of shame acting upon early affections, has made him more popular, more beloved, more admired than ever he was before.

Look at the course of business in the House of Lords during the last few years, and you will observe that the Duke of Wellington has been the presiding spirit of that assembly. Nothing was done—nothing could be done without him; for he carries with him the proxies of so many of the thinking, experienced, far-seeing, influential of his countrymen.

It has been argued, that the Duke of Wellington possesses all this influence by virtue of his leadership of a powerful party. Of course this means that any other leader of the conservatives could possess as much, or it means nothing. It is a fallacy. The Duke of Wellington's claims are almost entirely personal. It is to himself alone that all this silent homage is paid. Even were he to retire from active life to-morrow, still would he be followed into his retirement by political pupils, eager to imbibe those distillations of practical wisdom which his sagacity extracts from his vast stores of experience.

The fundamental basis of this power is his high military reputation; though that alone could not have secured it, unless accompanied by his firm principles and habits of observation. England differs from France in this respect,—that while our neighbours are more ready to elevate talent above property than we are, they are less choice as to the degree of the talent which they exalt. But if the English once know that they possess a first-rate man, they place him from that hour securely on an eminence, whence he may look down as from the heavens, upon wealth, rank, blood, and every earthly distinction. The Duke of Wellington is a first-rate man; and his countrymen acknowledge it with pride. But his mind is sui generis. His qualities are eminently useful: he could never have condescended to be brilliant. His mind is that of iron mould that defies alike warping, meretricious polish, or demolition.

It is a conviction of the thorough and unflinching honesty of his views and principles, and of the clear perception, the fruitful experience, and sound practical sense which regulate his opinions, that makes the Duke of Wellington the governing spirit in the House of Peers. There is no man in that house, be his talents or his services what they may, whose opinion carries so much weight with it; for there is no other man so independent of party. All the others, however moderate their natures or honest their intentions, have been compelled to give in at some time or other to the spirit of party. But the Duke is above party. He entered the House of Peers with an overpowering reputation, which enabled him from the first to take high ground. He does not need to curry favour with any man; nor does he fear to offend even the most powerful of his supporters, when his cause is just.

But the Duke's ascendancy in the House of Peers is not to be referred to the foregoing causes alone. Had he none of that personal influence derived from services and character to which we have referred, his abilities and information alone would enable him to take high rank. His claims in these respects are much, underrated by those who are opposed to him in politics. His reasoning is so simple, clear and palpable—so much in the character of what is called common sense—and his style of speaking so unpretending and free from ornament, that superficial observers have set him down as a mere blunt soldier, with a few fixed ideas, and a disposition dogmatically to insist on their adoption. This is altogether a mistake. The Duke of Wellington has as much of the true spirit of the statesman as any man who now affects the destinies of this country. There is scarcely a subject that has come before parliament since the commencement of his political career into which he has not fully entered. The character of his mind is to grasp every question. Less than mastery of it—so far as the formation of a decided opinion according to the lights afforded to or by his mind—will not satisfy him. With the exception of one or two questions of high constitutional principle, the "cui bono?" is the view his mind naturally takes. He is a practical utilitarian, seeking in every measure the utmost quantity of good of which it is capable; not always as much as he would perhaps wish to see, but as much as circumstances allow the hope of securing.

This mode of dealing with subjects is not well calculated for oratorical display, or for the parade of extensive information, even if the unaffected character of the Duke of Wellington would allow him to avail himself of them. They are cast aside, in pursuit of a less brilliant, but more useful, mode of treatment. Accordingly, the speeches of the Duke are brief, clear, pointed, and in one sense dogmatical. After having canvassed details, and brought to bear upon them his long and varied experience, he states his conclusions, accompanying them with the general principles that have guided their formation, in a few brief authoritative sentences. He is very careless about catching stray listeners, or drawing in his train the prejudiced or the inexperienced; but rather addresses himself to those whose age and wisdom entitle them to anticipate consequences, or to those to whom experience of the value of his opinions may have taught a pre-disposed deference.

At other times, however—for instance, when making ministerial statements on matters connected with finance, or foreign policy, or important changes in the law—this short, abrupt, devil-may-care style is changed for one eminently adapted to the object. No one can then complain of a want of the proper information. All the historical facts, or figures, or principles, or general details, are then marshalled forward with a regularity and precision only to be equalled by the military arrangements of the Duke. There is not a word too much or too little: you are made thoroughly to comprehend the whole bearings of the question, without being overburthened with the useless details that so often figure in the speeches of orators of the red-tape school. The natural superiority of the Duke's mind is never more exhibited than in the masterly way in which he separates the wheat from the chaff, and weaves a clear and connected statement from masses of facts, on subjects so foreign to the military pursuits of his youth and manhood.

To many, this praise of the Duke of Wellington, in a character in which he is so little known to the great mass of the public, will appear exaggerated; but those who have been accustomed to observe him in the House of Peers, will not be surprised to hear the estimation in which he is held by his political contemporaries of all parties. Those who have not heard and seen him in his character of politician and statesman, will scarcely continue sceptical (even if they are so), after having read the extracts contained in the following pages.

Much, however, as the independent spirit of self-reliance of the Duke, fortified by his character and experience, has secured him sway in the House of Lords, we must not blind ourselves to the fact, that this illustrious man has sometimes, in the assertion of his opinions (unconsciously, we believe, and unintentionally) fallen into a practice of dogmatising, of calling on the House of Peers and the public to adopt his views, not so much on account of reasons urged in their support, as because they are stated by him. Rarely, however, have such instances occurred, and in extenuation of what, in a country of free discussion, would justly be deemed a dangerous innovation, we must bear in mind that where a man's opinions are the result of vary long experience and very extensive observation, it is not always possible to make the general mind aware of the process by which particular principles or views have been arrived at. The greatest men have often been compelled to content themselves with the simple assertion of opinions not pleasing to the multitude, and to appeal to time as the only test of their truth.

The Duke of Wellington looks to the practical common-sense bearing of every subject brought under his notice. His first aim is the public good; his next, how to attain that good with the least departure from established principles of policy. This practical turn of mind, joined as it is to a far-seeing and prophetic spirit, has contributed to confirm in the minds of his countrymen the admiration and influence which his military genius and success first created. They repose the utmost confidence in his sagacity; he is a party in himself. Whatever is essential to the national reputation, the welfare of the whole people, and, above all, to the stability of property, is sure to be originated, or, at all events, warmly supported by him.

For this reason a revolution never could have occurred under the government of the Duke; he has too intense a horror of the evils of civil contention, ever to have allowed matters to come to that pass. This, it will be admitted, is a quality rarely to be found in a soldier, and a soldier, too, of such an inflexible cast as the Duke. Not less intense is his regard for national faith and honour. He would maintain the honour of the state at any expense, even of his own personal prejudices on home politics; for the Duke, like all strong-minded men, has his prejudices. He has vanquished, and obtained the mastery of the spirit of change, by showing that he can curb it, while he does not affect to play the tyrant over it. He knows when to be firm and when to yield. Many acts of the Duke of Wellington, in the course of his political career, that have called forth unlimited censure, have been based upon calculations which only so well-tutored and so well-stored a mind could have made.

It is an intellectual treat of the highest order to see the Duke of Wellington's demeanour in the House of Lords. It is essentially different from that of every other man there. He is almost the only unfettered man in the house. Others are fettered by obstacles which they create for themselves, in various ways, by the too eager pursuit of personal or party objects. But the Duke of Wellington's high reputation and standing place him above all such considerations. He can afford to speak the truth, and he does speak it on all occasions fearlessly. While other speakers, on either side of the house, have been wasting their powers in fruitless eloquence (mere personal display), or in perverting the truth for the purpose, either of unfair attack or unfair defence, the Duke of Wellington has appeared to be paying not the slightest attention to the proceedings. He has sat absorbed in thought, or at least in seeming indifference. You would almost suppose that, overcome by fatigue, or indisposition, he was sleeping, so perfectly motionless and silent is he, reclining, with folded arms, his legs stretched out to their full length, and his hat over his brow. The question has been discussed, argued, disputed upon for hours. No result seems to have been come to, and you are as ignorant of the object and scope of the measure as when the debate began; nor have you any clear idea what will become of the bill.

At length, the Duke of Wellington rises, advances abruptly to the table, wraps the tails of his coat, like a dressing-gown, over his legs, and plunges at once in medias res. There is an undivided attention while he speaks, indeed, it is sometimes absolutely necessary, for, when indisposed, he is often with difficulty heard, even by those near to him, as, indeed, he himself hears with difficulty, from being deaf on one side. But in a moment you see that his mind is still as vigorous as ever. His keen intelligence pierces at once to the very core of the subject; no fallacy can blind or deceive the Duke of Wellington. He knows why the measure was introduced, what it is, what it will do, and what will become of it. He grapples with it in the spirit of a statesman. He is a guardian of the interests of the nation; he is the parliamentary trustee of the people; he is bound to look to their interests as a whole, for by the people he understands, not those who bawl the loudest about their rights, but those also who trust the maintenance of their privileges and their interests to parliament, in silent faith. He never forgets the salus populi.

On the other hand, the chap-trap maxims of liberalism, foreign or domestic, meet from him with just as much credence and attention as they deserve; he never allows enthusiasm to intrude among political considerations. He measures the length, breadth, and thickness of the bill before him; calculates with his unerring precision and practical wisdom, the effect which it will have, either on the happiness of the people, or on the social or political constitution of the country. According to its value for good or for evil, does the Duke of Wellington support or oppose it; and from that hour its fate is usually decided. Why? because the unbending unflinching honesty of the man, and his political sagacity, have created him a character unprecedented in the annals of his country.

The Duke's style of speaking is what might be expected from his character, plain, simple, straightforward. His sentences are short and pithy, his language clear and lucid; his delivery abrupt. When he makes a point, it falls on the mind with the force of a sledge-hammer. His voice reminds one of that of an officer giving the word of command; he lays emphasis, short and somewhat harsh, on the leading words of the sentence, and speaks the rest in an under tone. Although, however, in consequence of his age and the gradual approach of infirmity, his utterance is not so clear as it used to be, yet you can always understand immediately his whole meaning. He uses the plainest language of every-day colloquy. His style is impressive from its doric simplicity. You never entertain a doubt of his sincerity; and although you may not always agree with him in opinion, you have, at least, the satisfaction of knowing that his propositions are the true result of his feelings or his thoughts; and are not merely put forward to answer the purposes of party, or to secure a triumph in debate.

For the same reason, the Duke never attempts to impose on the house a fictitious enthusiasm, or a pretended excitement. If he gets excited, (and he will sometimes get into a terrible passion at any infringement of constitutional integrity or breach of discipline), there is no mistaking it for a mere prepared climax to a speech; he is completely possessed by the demon. The only action he ever uses is on such occasions, and then it is almost convulsive. His arms and legs seem no longer to be under control, they quiver, and shake, and tremble: and the clenched fist, violently and frequently struck upon the table, denotes that some very potent feeling of indignation is, for the time, mastering the usual calmness of this self-possessed man.

Yet though at times he is thus carried away by his feelings, his ultimate judgment of a measure is not impaired by it. He can cauterise or cut out the cankered part, and yet preserve all that was not offensive to his sense of right and wrong.

Those who have read the speeches of the Duke, will have remarked the intensely British feeling that pervades them. He is like the old Romans in his admiration and love for his country and her institutions. The same feeling breathes in all his speeches. The same magnanimous brevity that marked the public declarations of that haughty people, dignifies the addresses of the Duke of Wellington. Some of his sayings, as, for instance, "that a great nation can never wage a little war," will he embalmed in history. His denunciations are like the alarum of a war trumpet. The same character of simplicity which marks the Duke's speeches pervades his whole conduct, public and private. Though no man is more capable of enjoying the refinements of modern society, luxury has not enervated his mind or his manners. His dress, his equipage, his habits, all partake of the same indifference to effect—all have a cast of the hardy self-denial of the camp. A mattress bed, constant horse exercise, rising with the lark, not unfrequently remaining up twenty hours out of the twenty-four, and the daily use of cold shower baths, winter and summer,—these contradictions to the usual habits of men, when their age approaches to fourscore, bespeak no ordinary carelessness of ease, and a singular determination of purpose. Well, indeed, has he been named the Iron Duke.



MAXIMS AND OPINIONS OF HIS GRACE THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON.

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INDIA.

To offer a public reward, by proclamation, for a man's life, and to make a secret bargain to have it taken away, are very different things; the one is to be done, the other, in my opinion, cannot by an officer at the head of the troops.

Dispatch, July 8, 1800.

* * * * *

As for the wishes of the people, particularly in this country (India), I put them out of the question. They are the only philosophers about their governors that ever I met with, if indifference constitutes that character.

Dispatch, August 20, 1800.

* * * * *

In military operations time is everything.

Dispatch, June 30, 1800.

Articles of provision are not to be trifled with, or left to chance; and there is nothing more clear than that the subsistence of the troops must be certain upon the proposed service, or the service must be relinquished.

Dispatch, Feb. 18, 1801.

* * * * *

Indignant rejection of a proffered Bribe.

You inform me that the Rajah, or Dessaye of Kittoor, has expressed a wish to be taken under the protection of the British Government; and has offered to pay a tribute to the company, and to give you a bribe of 4000 pagodas, and me one of 10,000 pagodas, provided this point is arranged according to his wishes.

I cannot conceive what can have induced the Rajah of Kittoor to imagine that I was capable of receiving that or any other sum of money, as an inducement to do that which he must think improper, or he would not have offered it. But I shall advert to that point more particularly presently.

The Rajah of Kittoor is a tributary of the Mahratta Government, the head of which is an ally, by treaty, of the honourable company. It would be, therefore, to the full as proper, that any officer in command of a post within the company's territories, should listen to and enter into a plan for seizing part of the Mahratta territories, as it is for you to listen and encourage an offer from the Rajah of Kittoor to accept the protection of, and transfer his allegiance and tribute to the honourable company's government. In case you should hear anything further upon this subject from the Rajah of Kittoor, or in future from any of the chiefs of the Mahrattas on the frontier, I desire that you will tell them what is the fact, that you have no authority whatever to listen to such proposals, that you have orders only to keep up with them the usual intercourse of civility and friendship, and that if they have any proposals of that kind to make, they must be made in a proper manner to our superiors. You may, at the same time, inform them that you have my authority to say that the British government is very little likely to take advantage of the misfortunes of its ally, to deprive him, either of his territories or of the allegiance or tribute due to him by his tributaries.

In respect to the bribe offered to you and myself, I am surprised that any man in the character of a British officer should not have given the Rajah to understand that the offer would be considered as an insult; and that he should not have forbidden its renewal, than that he should have encouraged it, and even offered to receive a quarter of the sum proposed to be given him for prompt payment. I can attribute your conduct on this occasion, to nothing excepting the most inconsiderate indiscretion, and to a desire to benefit yourself, which got the better of your prudence. I desire, however, that you will refrain from the subject with the Rajah of Kittoor at all, and that if he should renew it, you will inform him, that I and all British officers consider such offers as insults on the part of them by whom made.

Letter to an officer in India, January 20, 1803.

Principle of Warfare in India.

We must get the upper hand, and if once we have that, we shall keep it with ease, and shall certainly succeed. But if we begin by a long defensive warfare, and go looking after convoys that are scattered over the face of the earth, and do not attack briskly, we shall soon be in distress.

Dispatch, Aug. 17, 1803.

* * * * *

How to avoid Party Spirit in the Army.

It occurs to me that there is much party in the army in your quarter; this must be put an end to. And there is only one mode of effecting this, and that is for the commanding officer to be of no side excepting that of the public; to employ indiscriminately those who can best serve the public, be they who they may, or in whatever service; the consequence will be that the service will go on, all parties will join in forwarding it, and in respecting him; there will be an end to their petty disputes about trifles; and the commanding officer will be at the head of an army instead of a party.

Letter to an officer, Sept. 16, 1803.

* * * * *

The power of the Sword necessary in India.

It is necessary that the political agents at the durbars of the native princes should be supposed to have a considerable degree of power. In this part of the world there is no power excepting that of the sword; and it follows that if these political agents have no authority over the military, they have no power whatever.

The natives would soon find out this state of weakness, and the residents would lose their influence over their councils. It may be argued if that is the case, the military commanding officer ought to be the resident, or political agent. In answer to this argument, I say, that the same reasoning applies to every part of the executive government; and that, upon this ground, the whole ought to be in the hands of the military. In short, the only conclusion to be drawn from all reflection and reasoning upon the subject is, that the British government in India is a phenomenon; and that it will not answer to apply to it, in its present state, either the rules which guide other governments, or the reasoning upon which these rules are founded.

Dispatch, Oct. 13, 1803.

* * * * *

Reason for the ambiguity of Treaties.

It is impossible to frame a treaty of peace in such a manner as to find in it a decision of all questions which can arise between the parties concerned; particularly when the parties have frequently been at war, and have preserved a recollection of a variety of contradictory claims arising out of the events of their wars, which they are ready to bring forward on all occasions.

Dispatch, Jan. 7, 1804.

Foundation of British Power in India in 1803.

The British government has been left by the late Mahratta war in a most glorious situation. They are the sovereigns of a great part of India, the protectors of the principal powers, and the mediators by treaty of the disputes of all. The sovereignty they possess is greater, and their power is settled upon more permanent foundations, than any before known in India; all it wants is the popularity which, from the nature of the institutions and the justice of the proceedings of the government, it is likely to obtain, and which it must obtain, after a short period of tranquillity shall have given the people time and opportunity to feel the happiness and security which they enjoy.

Dispatch, Jan. 16, 1804.

* * * * *

British "Moderation" in India.

I declare that, when I view the treaty of peace,[2] and its consequences, I am afraid it will be imagined that the moderation of the British government in India has a strong resemblance to the ambition of other governments.

[Footnote 2: After the Mahratta war.]

Jan. 29, 1804.

* * * * *

Contrast between European and Asiatic Policy.

European governments were, till very lately, guided by certain rules and systems of policy so accurately defined and generally known, that it was scarcely possible to suppose a political event, in which the interest and conduct of each state would not be as well known to the corps diplomatique, in general, as to the statesmen of each particular state. The Asiatic governments do not acknowledge, and hardly know of, such rules and systems. Their governments are arbitrary; the objects of their policy are always shifting; they have no regular established system, the effect of which is to protect the weak against the strong; on the contrary, the object of each of them separately, and of all of them taken collectively, is to destroy the weak; and if by chance, they should, by a sense of common danger, be induced for a season to combine their efforts for their mutual defence, the combination lasts only so long as it is attended with success; the first reverse dissolves it; and, at all events, it is dissolved long before the danger ceases, the apprehension of which originally caused it. The company's government in India, the other contracting party to their alliance, is one bound by all the rules and systems of European policy. The company's power in India is supposed to depend much upon its reputation; and although I do not admit that it depends upon its reputation, as distinguished from its real force, as appears to be contended by some, I may say that it is particularly desirable for a government, so constituted as the company's, never to enter upon any particular object, the probable result of which should not be greatly in favour of success.

Besides this, the company's government in India is bound by acts of parliament not to undertake wars of aggression, not to make any but defensive alliances, and those only in cases in which the other contracting party shall bind itself to defend the possessions of the company actually threatened with hostilities.

The company's government in India is also connected with his majesty's government, and, as an Asiatic power, is liable to be involved in wars with European powers possessing territories in India, whenever his majesty shall be at war with those powers.

The picture above drawn of the state of politics among Asiatic powers, proves that no permanent system can be adopted which will preserve the weak against the strong, and will keep all for any length of time in their relative situations, and the whole in peace; excepting there should be one power, which, either by the superiority of its strength, its military system, or its resources, shall preponderate, and be able to protect all.

1804.

* * * * *

It is necessary for a man who fills a public situation, and who has great public interests in charge, to lay aside all private considerations, whether on his own account or that of other persons.

March 2, 1804.

* * * * *

When war is concluded, all animosity should be forgotten.

March 12, 1804.

The British character for good faith must be preserved in India.

I would sacrifice Gwalior, or every portion of India, ten times over, in order to preserve our credit for scrupulous good faith, and the advantages and honour we gained by the late war and the peace: and we must not fritter them away in arguments, drawn from overstrained principles of the laws of nations, which are not understood in this country. What brought me through many difficulties in the war, and the negociations for peace? The British good faith, and nothing else.

Dispatch, March 17, 1804.

* * * * *

Civil Government in India must follow immediately on Military Conquest.

I rather think that you and the Governor-General agree in opinion on the subject of the affairs of Malabar. He says, "examine and report the state of the province before you commence your military operations; define the evils, and propose a system of government which shall afford a remedy, towards the establishment of which system military operations may be directed."

It would be useless to commence military operations upon any great scale, unless the civil officers should be prepared to take possession of the country, and to re-establish the civil government as the troops shall conquer it. If the civil government were not re-established in this manner, the rebels would rise again as soon as the troops would pass through the districts; and the effect of the operations of a large body of troops would be much the same as that of a small body. But if the civil government is to be re-established in this manner, it would be better to establish that system which is found to be good, and is to be permanent, than that which is known to be had, and which is intended should not last. Supposing that the bad system were first introduced, it must be followed afterwards by the good one; and, supposing that the bad system did not produce a rebellion of itself (which I acknowledge I do not think it would, as rebellion in Malabar is to be traced to causes entirely independent of all systems of civil government, excepting as they are connected with a strong or weak military force), the change from the bad to the good system would produce a degree of convulsion, and, possibly, momentary weakness, which it is always desirable to avoid. It is particularly desirable to avoid it in this instance, as it will not be difficult, by an examination of all that has passed in Malabar, to fix upon the general principles according to which that province ought to be governed, and to form a system accordingly, in the time which must elapse before the troops can he employed in settling the province.

March 20, 1804.

* * * * *

Principle of Relief to the Poor.

The principle, of the mode in which I propose to relieve the distresses of the inhabitants, is not to give grain or money in charity.

Those who suffer from famine may properly be divided into two classes: those who can, and those who cannot, work. In the latter class may be included old persons, children, and the sick women; who, from their former situation in life, have been unaccustomed to labour, and are weakened by the effects of famine.

The former, viz., those of both sexes who can work, ought to be employed by the public; and in the course of this letter I shall point out the work on which I should wish that they might be employed, and in what manner paid. The latter, viz., those who cannot work, ought to be taken into an hospital and fed, and receive medical aid and medicine at the expense of the public.

According to this mode of proceeding, subsistence will be provided for all; the public will receive some benefit from the expense which will be incurred, and, above all, it will be certain, that no able-bodied person will apply for relief, unless he should be unwilling to work for his subsistence, that none will apply who are able to work, and who are not real objects of charity; and that none will come to Ahmednuggur for the purpose of partaking of the food which must be procured by the labour, or to obtain which they must submit to the restraint of an hospital.

Dispatch, April 11, 1804.

* * * * *

Tactics to be pursued against Predatory Troops.

I have served a good deal in this part of India against this description of freebooter; and I think that the best mode of operating, is to press him with one or two corps capable of moving with tolerable celerity, and of such strength as to render the result of an action by no means doubtful, if he should venture to risk one. There is but little hope, it is true, that he will risk an action, or that any one of these corps will come up with him. The effect to be produced by this mode of operation is to oblige him to move constantly, and with great celerity. When reduced to this necessity, he cannot venture to stop to plunder the country, and he does comparatively but little mischief; at all events the subsistence of his army becomes difficult and precarious, the horsemen become dissatisfied, and they perceive that their situation is hopeless, and they desert in numbers daily; the freebooter ends by having with him only a few adherents, and he is reduced to such a state as to be liable to be taken by any small body of country horse, which are the fittest troops to be then employed against him.

In proportion as the body of our troops, to be employed against a freebooter of this description, have the power of moving with celerity, will such freebooter be distressed. Whenever the largest and most formidable bodies of them are hard pressed by our troops, the village people attack them upon their rear and flanks, cut off stragglers, and will not allow a man to enter their villages; because their villages being in some degree fortified, they know well that the freebooters dare not wait the time which would be necessary to reduce them. When this is the case, all their means of subsistence vanish, no resource remains excepting to separate, and even this resource is attended by risk, as the village people cut them off on their way to their homes.

Dispatch, May 27, 1804.

* * * * *

Importance of Secresy in Public Affairs.

There is nothing more certain than that of one hundred affairs ninety-nine might be posted up at the market-cross, without injury to the public interests; but the misfortune is that where the public business is the subject of general conversation, and is not kept a secret, as a matter of course, upon every occasion, it is very difficult to keep it secret upon that occasion on which it is necessary. There is an awkwardness in a secret which enables discerning men (of which description there are always plenty in an army) invariably to find it out; and it may be depended upon that, whenever the public business ought to be kept secret, it always suffers when it is exposed to public view. For this reason secresy is always best; and those who have been long trusted with the conduct of public affairs are in the habit of never making known public business of any description that it is not necessary that the public should know. The consequence is that secresy becomes natural to them, and as much a habit as it is to others to talk of public matters; and they have it in their power to keep things secret or not, as they may think proper.

Remember that what I recommend to you is far removed from mystery; in fact, I recommend silence upon the public business upon all occasions, in order to avoid the necessity of mystery upon any.

Dispatch, June 28, 1804.

* * * * *

In all retreats, it must be recollected that they are safe and easy, in proportion to the number of attacks made by the retreating corps.

Dispatch, Sept. 12, 1804.

* * * * *

Neglect of his Services in India.

In regard to staying longer (in the Deccan), the question is exactly whether the court of directors, or the king's ministers, have any claim upon me, strong enough to induce me to do anything so disagreeable to my feelings (leaving health out of the question) as to remain, for a great length of time, in this country. I have served the company in important situations for many years, and have never received anything but injury from the court of directors, although I am a singular instance of an officer who has served under all governments, and in communication with all the political residents, and many civil authorities; and there is not an instance on record, or in any private correspondence, of disapprobation of any of my acts, or a single complaint, or even a symptom of ill-temper from any one of the political or civil authorities in communication with whom I have acted. The king's ministers have as little claim upon me as the court of directors. I am not very ambitious, and I acknowledge that I never have been very sanguine in my expectations that military services in India would be considered in the scale in which are considered similar services in other parts of the world. But I might have expected to be placed on the staff in India; and yet if it had not been for the lamented death of General Fraser, General Smith's arrival would have made me supernumerary. This is perfectly well known to the army, and is the subject of a good deal of conversation.

Jan. 4, 1805.

* * * * *

I mistrust the judgment of every man in a case in which his own wishes are concerned.

Feb. 3, 1805.

* * * * *

Advice to a Native Ruler in India.

Let the prosperity of the country be your great object; protect the ryots and traders, and allow no man, whether invested with authority or not, to oppress them with impunity. Do justice to every man.

March 2, 1805.

* * * * *

Without distinction of religion every man ought to be called upon to do service to the state, wherever he is particularly qualified to do that service.

House of Commons, May 11, 1808.

Control of the Navy and Army.

The navy is the characteristic and constitutional force of Britain, and may therefore be governed by regulations of the legislature; but the army is a new force, arising out of the extraordinary exigencies of modern times, and from every consideration of expediency and necessity, must be left under the control of the crown.

House of Commons, June 3, 1808.

* * * * *

The Law-breaker always Wrong.

It frequently happens that the people who do commit outrages and disturbances have some reason to complain; but he who breaks the law must be considered in the wrong, whatever may have been, the nature of the provocation which he has received.[3]

[Footnote 3: This remark, though it applies generally, was made with respect to Ireland.]

Ibid, July 7, 1808.

* * * * *

THE PENINSULA.

The Battle of Vimeiro.

The action of Vimeiro is the only one I have ever been in (1808), in which everything passed as was directed, and no mistake was made by any of the officers charged with its conduct.

Dispatch, Aug. 22, 1806.

* * * * *

Distinction between Civil and Military Responsibility.

There is a great distinction of duty between military and civil inferior situations. If, in a civil officer, the inferior differs materially from the superior, he ought to resign, but in military appointments, it is the duty of the inferior officer to assist his commander in the mode in which that commander may deem his services most advantageous.

Defence of his conduct with regard to the Convention of Cintra. House of Commons, Feb. 21, 1809.

* * * * *

Rapidity of the French Retreats accounted for.

It is obvious, that if an army throws away all its cannon, equipments, and baggage, and everything which can strengthen it, and can enable it to act together as a body; and abandons all those who are entitled to its protection, but add to its weight and impede its progress;[4] it must be able to march by roads through which it cannot be followed, with any prospect of being overtaken by an army which has not made the same sacrifice.

[Footnote 4: Alluding to the rapidity of the French retreat.]

Dispatch, May 18, 1809.

* * * * *

I have long been of opinion that a British army could bear neither success nor failure.[5]

[Footnote 5: Referring to their habits of plunder.]

Dispatch, May 31, 1809.

* * * * *

Inefficiency of Spanish Officers.

Nothing can be worse than the officers of the Spanish army, and it is extraordinary that when a nation has devoted itself to war, as this nation has by the measures which it has adopted in the last two years, so little progress has been made in any one branch of the military profession by any individual, and that the business of an army should be so little understood. They are really children in the art of war, and I cannot say they do anything as it ought to be done, with the exception of running away, and assembling again in a state of nature.

Dispatch, Aug. 1809.

* * * * *

Terrorism and Force, not Enthusiasm, enabled the French Revolutionary Armies to conquer.

People are very apt to believe that enthusiasm carried the French through their revolution, and was the parent of those exertions which have nearly conquered the world; but if the subject is nicely examined, it will be found that enthusiasm was the name only, but that force was the instrument which brought forward those great resources under the system of terror which first stopped the allies; and that a perseverance in the same system of applying every individual and every description of property to the service of the army, by force, has since conquered Europe.

Dispatch, Aug. 25, 1809.

The Spaniards and Portuguese want the true spirit of Soldiers.

We are mistaken if we believe that what these Portuguese and Spanish armies require is discipline, properly so called. They want the habits and spirit of soldiers—the habits of command on one side, and of obedience on the other—mutual confidence between officers and men; and above all, a determination in superiors to obey the spirit of the orders they receive, let what will be the consequence, and the spirit to tell the true cause if they do not.

Dispatch, Sept. 8, 1809.

* * * * *

Importance of good understanding between Negotiating Parties.

Half the business of the world, particularly that of our country, is done by accommodation, and by the parties understanding each other, but when rights are claimed they must be resisted, if there are no grounds for them; when appeal must be made to higher powers there can be no accommodation, and much valuable time is lost in reference which ought to be spent in action.

Dispatch, Sept. 20, 1809.

* * * * *

Popular Assemblies unmanageable.

I acknowledge that I have a great dislike to a new popular assembly; even our own ancient one would be quite unmanageable, and in three days, would ruin us, if the present generation had not before its eyes the example of the French revolution; and if there were not certain rules and orders for its guidance and government, the knowledge and use of which render safe, and successfully direct, its proceedings.

Dispatch, Sept. 22, 1809.

* * * * *

Distracted State of Spain.

I declare that if I were in Buonaparte's situation, I should leave the English and the Cortes to settle Spain in the best manner they could; and I should entertain very little doubt but that in a very short space of time Spain must fall into the hands of France. At the same time I must agree with you in thinking that affairs are now in so desperate a situation that they cannot be worse; that there is a real want of men of common capacity in Spain, in whose hands any form of government, intended for vigorous action, could be placed with any hope that their powers could he used to the public advantage; and that the Cortes, with all their faults, and the dangers attendant upon such an assembly, will have at least this advantage, that they will have the confidence of the country, and the prejudices of their countrymen of the lower class in our favour, and against France; the remark being perfectly well founded, that there is no prejudice or jealousy of us any where in Spain excepting by the government.

But in order to enjoy common safety under such an assembly as the Spanish Cortes, the rules and orders for their proceedings and internal government ought to be well defined, and to be, if possible, a part of the constitution of the assembly. Great care should also be taken in their formation to protect them from the effects of popular fury in the place of their sitting; but still with all these precautions I should prefer a wise Bourbon, if we could find one, for a regent, to the Cortes.

Dispatch, Sept. 22, 1809.

* * * * *

Whatever may be eventually the fate of Spain, Portugal must be a military country.

Dispatch, Sept. 24, 1809.

* * * * *

Military Value of an Armed and Friendly People.

In respect to the army and armament of the people in Spain and Portugal, there is no man more aware than I am of the advantage to be derived from these measures; and if I had not reflected well upon the subject, my experience of the war in Portugal and in Spain—(in Portugal, where the people are in some degree armed and arrayed; and in Spain, where they are not)—would have shewn me the advantage which an army has against the enemy when the people are armed and arrayed, and are on its side in the contest. But reflection, and, above all, experience have shewn me the exact extent of this advantage in a military point of view; and I only beg that those who have to contend with the French, will not be diverted from the business of raising, arming, equipping, and training regular bodies, by any notion that the people, when armed and arrayed, will be of, I will not say any, but of much use to them.

Dispatch, Oct. 11, 1809.

* * * * *

Difficulties in the Peninsular War. The Battle of Talavera.

You will have heard of all that has passed in this country, and I will not therefore trouble you with a repetition of the story. The battle of Talevera was certainly the hardest fought of modern days, and the most glorious in its results to our troops. Each side engaged lost a quarter of their numbers.

It is lamentable that, owing to the miserable inefficiency of the Spaniards, to their want of exertion, and the deficiency of numbers, even, of the allies, much more of discipline and every other military quality, when compared with the enemy in the Peninsula, the glory of the action is the only benefit we have derived from it. But that is a solid and substantial benefit, of which we have derived some good consequences already; for, strange to say, I have contrived with the little British army to keep everything in check since the month of August last; and if the Spaniards had not contrived, by their own folly and against my entreaties and remonstrances, to lose an army in La Mancha about a fortnight ago, I think we might have brought them through the contest; as it is, however, I do not despair. I have in hand a most difficult task, from which I may not extricate myself; but I must not shrink from it, I command an unanimous army; I draw well with all the authorities in Spain and Portugal; and I believe I have the good wishes of the whole world. In such circumstances, one may fail, but it would be dishonourable to shrink from the task.

Letter to Col. Malcome, Dec. 3, 1809.

* * * * *

Buonaparte's System Hollow.

The Austrian marriage is a terrible event, and must prevent any great movement on the continent for the present. Still I do not despair of seeing, at some time or other, a check to the Buonaparte system. Recent transactions in Holland shew that it is all hollow within; and that it is so inconsistent with the wishes, the interests, and even the existence of civilized society, that he cannot trust even his brothers to carry it into execution.

Dispatch, April 4, 1810.

* * * * *

Military Law the will of the General.

Military law, as applied to any persons excepting the officers, soldiers, and followers of the army, for whose government there are particular provisions of law in all well regulated countries, is neither more nor less than the will of the general of the army. He punishes either with or without trial, for crimes either declared to be so, or not so declared, by any existing law, or by his own orders. This is the plain and common meaning of the term military law. Besides the mode of proceeding above described, laws have been made in different countries at different times to establish and legalize a description of military constitution.

The commander-in-chief, or the government, has been authorized to proceed by military process—that is, by court martial or council of war—against persons offending against certain laws, or against their own orders, issued generally for the security of the army; or for the establishment of a certain government or constitution odious to the people among whom it is established.

Of both descriptions of military law, there are numerous instances in the history of the operations of the French army during the revolution; and there is an instance of the existence both of the first-mentioned description and of the last-mentioned in Ireland, during the rebellion of 1798, when the people were in insurrection against the government, and were to be restrained by force.

Dispatch, April 19, 1810.

* * * * *

Letter to a Portuguese of Rank on the Position and Duties of Persons in his station.

I have received your letter containing a complaint against——, of the quarter-master general's department, that he had ill-treated one of your servants, into which I shall make inquiry, and let you know the result.

It is impossible, however, for me to interfere in any manner with a billet, given by the magistrates of Coimbra, for an officer and his family to be quartered in your house. I must at the same time inform you, that I am not a little surprised that a person of your rank and station, and quality in the country, should object to give accommodation in your house, and should make a complaint of this officer, that he had asked you for additional accommodation, when it appears by the letter which you enclosed, and which I now return, that when you objected to give him this additional accommodation for which he asked, he acquiesced in your objection, and did not any longer require this accommodation.

The unfortunate situation in which Portugal is placed, and the desire of the insatiable enemy of mankind to force this once happy and loyal people to submit to his iron yoke, to plunder them of their properties to destroy their religion and to deprive them of their monarch, has rendered it necessary to collect in this country a large army, in order, if possible, to defeat and frustrate the designs of the enemy. It is the duty of those whose age, whose sex, or whose profession, do not permit them to take an active part in the defence of their country, to assist those employed in its defence with provisions, lodgings for officers and troops, means of transport, &c., and at all events not to oppose themselves to the granting of this description of assistance. These duties are more particularly incumbent upon the rich and high in station, who would be the first victims of, and greatest sufferers from, the enemy's success, unless, indeed, they should be of the number of those traitors who are aiding to introduce the common enemy into the country, to destroy its happiness and independence.

Under these circumstances I am not a little astonished to receive these frivolous and manifestly unfounded complaints from you, and that you should be the person to set the example of objecting to give quarters to an officer, because he is married and has children.

It is not very agreeable to anybody to have strangers quartered in his house; nor is it very agreeable to us strangers, who have good houses in our own country, to be obliged to seek for quarters here. We are not here for our pleasure; the situation of your country renders it necessary: and you, a man of family and fortune, who have much to lose, should not be the first to complain of the inconvenience of our presence in the country.

I do everything in my power to alleviate the inconvenience which all must suffer. We pay extravagant prices with unparalleled punctuality for everything we receive; and I make it a rule to inquire into and redress every injury that is really done by the troops under my command, as I shall that to which I have above referred, of which you complain, in the conduct of——towards your servant.

Dispatch, August 23, 1810.

* * * * *

Croaking Spirit in the British Army in Portugal.

It appears that you have had a good smart contest with the government respecting our plan of operations. They will end in forcing me to quit them, and then they will see how they will get on. They will then find that I alone keep things in their present state. Indeed the temper of some of the officers of the British army gives me more concern than the folly of the Portuguese government. I have always been accustomed to have the confidence and support of the officers of the armies which I have commanded; but for the first time, whether owing to the opposition in England, or whether the magnitude of the concern is too much for their minds and their nerves, or whether I am mistaken and they are right, I cannot tell; but there is a system of croaking in the army which is highly injurious to the public service, and which I must devise some means to put an end to, or it will put an end to us. Officers have a right to form their own opinions upon events and transactions, but officers of high rank or situation ought to keep their opinions to themselves; if they do not approve of the system of operations of their commander, they ought to withdraw from the army. And this is a point to which I must bring some, if I should not find that their own good sense prevents them from going on as they have done lately. Believe me that if any body else, knowing what I do, had commanded the army, they would now have been in Lisbon, if not, in their ships.

Dispatch, September 11, 1810.

Note—This passage from a letter to the British minister at Lisbon is one of many, which explain the difficulties Lord Wellington had to encounter from the Portuguese Government, from the opposition and the press in England, and from the want of proper military spirit in his own officers.

Conduct of the Portuguese.

If we are to go on as we have hitherto; if Great Britain is to give large subsidies, and to expend large sums in the support of a cause in which these most interested sit by and take no part; and those at the head of the government, with laws and power to force the people to exertion in the critical circumstances in which the country is placed, are aware of the evil, but neglect their duty and omit to put the laws into execution, I must believe their professions to be false; that they look to a little dirty popularity instead of to save their country; that they are unfaithful servants to their master, and persons in whom his allies can place no confidence.

Oct. 28, 1810.

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The National Disease of Spain.

The national disease of Spain, that is, boasting of the strength and power of the Spanish nation, till they are seriously convinced that they are in no danger, then sitting down quietly and indulging their national indolence.

Dec. 2, 1810.

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Apathy of the Portuguese.

There exists in the people of Portugal, an unconquerable love of their ease, which is superior even to their fear and detestation of the enemy. Neither will they, or their magistrates, or the government, see that the temporary indulgence of this passion for tranquillity must occasion the greatest misfortunes to the state and hardships to the individuals themselves; and no person in the country likes to have his tranquillity and habits disturbed for any purpose, however important, or to be the instrument of disturbing those of others. Thus every arrangement is defeated, and every order disobeyed with impunity. The magistrate will not force the inhabitants to adopt a measure, however beneficial to the state and himself, which will disturb his old habits; and the government will not force the magistrate to do that which will be disagreeable to him and to the people: thus we shall go on till the end of time.

January 3, 1811.

* * * * *

Takes no Notice of Newspapers.

I hope that the opinions of the people in Great Britain are not influenced by paragraphs in newspapers, and that those paragraphs do not convey the public opinion or sentiment upon any subject: therefore I (who have more reason than any other public man of the present day to complain of libels of this description) never take the smallest notice of them; and have never authorized any contradiction to be given, or any statement to be made in answer to the innumerable falsehoods, and the heaps of false reasoning, which have been published respecting me and the operations which I have directed.

January 7, 1811.

Indolence of the Natives of the Peninsula.

There is something very extraordinary in the nature of the people of the Peninsula. I really believe them, those of Portugal particularly, to be the most loyal and best disposed, and the most cordial haters of the French, that ever existed; but there is an indolence and a want even of the power of exertion in their disposition and habits, either for their own security, that of their country, or of their allies, which baffle all our calculations and efforts.

January 16, 1811.

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Different Constitution of the French and English Armies.

It may also be asked why should we spend our money, and why these troops should not go on as the French troops do, without pay, provisions, magazines, or any thing? The French army is certainly a wonderful machine; but if we are to form such a one, we must form such a government as exists in France, which can with impunity lose one-half of the troops employed in the field every year, only by the privations and hardships imposed upon them. Next, we most compose our army of soldiers drawn from all classes of the population of the country; from the good and middling, as well as in rank as education, as from the bad; and not as all other nations do, and we in particular, from the bad only. Thirdly, we must establish such a system of discipline as the French have; a system founded on the strength of the tyranny of the government, which operates upon an army composed of soldiers, the majority of whom are sober, well disposed, amenable to order, and in some degree educated.

When we shall have done all this, and shall have made these armies of the strength of those employed by the French, we may require of them to live as the French do, viz., by authorised and regular plunder of the country and its inhabitants, if any should remain; and we may expose them to the labour, hardships and privations which the French soldier suffers every day; and we must expect the same proportion of loss every campaign, viz., one-half of those who take field.

January 26, 1811.

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Character of the Marques de la Romana.

In him the Spanish army have lost their brightest ornament, his country their most upright patriot, and the world the most strenuous and zealous defender of the cause in which we are engaged; and I shall always acknowledge with gratitude the assistance which I received from him, as well by his operations as by his counsel, since he had been joined with this army.

January 26, 1811.

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None but the worst men enter the Army as Privates.

In respect to recruiting the army, my own opinion is, that the government have never taken an enlarged view of the subject. It is expected that people will become soldiers in the line, and leave their families to starve, when, if they become soldiers in the militia, their families are provided for. This is an inconsistency that must strike the mind of even the least reflecting of mankind. What is the consequence? That none but the worst description of men enter the regular service.

* * * * *

But admitting the truth of the expense, I say that the country has not a choice between army and no army, between peace or war. They must have a large and efficient army, one capable of meeting the enemy abroad, or they must expect to meet him at home; and then farewell to all considerations of measures of greater or lesser expense, and to the ease, the luxury, and happiness of England. God forbid that I should see the day on which hostile armies should contend within the United Kingdom; but I am very certain that I shall not only see that day, but shall be a party in the contest, unless we alter our system, and the public feel in time the real nature of the contest in which we are at present engaged, and determine to meet its expense. I have gone a little beyond the question of recruiting; but depend upon it that you will get men when you provide for the families of soldiers in the line and not in the militia, and not before.

January 28, 1811.

Buonaparte's "disgusting Tyranny."

I am glad to hear such good accounts of affairs in the North. God send that they may prove true, and that we may overthrow this disgusting tyranny: however, of this I am certain, that whether true or not at present, something of the kind must occur before long, and, if we can only hold out, we shall yet see the world relieved.

March 23, 1811.

* * * * *

A French army in England would be the consequence of our withdrawal from the Peninsula.

I shall be sorry if government should think themselves under the necessity of withdrawing from this country, on account of the expense of the contest. From what I have seen of the objects of the French government, and the sacrifices they make to accomplish them, I have no doubt that if the British army were for any reason to withdraw from the Peninsula, and the French government were relieved from the pressure of military operations on the Continent, they would incur all risks to land an army in his majesty's dominions. Then indeed would commence an expensive contest; then his majesty's subjects discover what are the miseries of war, of which, by the blessing of God, they have hitherto had no knowledge; and the cultivation, the beauty, and prosperity of the country, and the virtue and happiness of its inhabitants, would be destroyed: whatever might be the result of the military operations; God forbid that I should be a witness, much less an actor, in the scene.[6]