Nothing could be more ignoble than the conduct of the people of Lisbon as to the billeting of the very soldiers who had saved them from the enemy.  On one occasion the Duke writes to order his wine, &c. to be removed from the house of a Signor Bandeira, and to have a house taken for him, “in order,” he says, “to mortify the people of Lisbon a little as to their conduct about billets.  I am slaving like a negro for them:  I have saved the people, in Lisbon particularly, from the enemy, and I take nothing from them, while they continually torment me with their frivolous complaints on subjects on which they ought to have no feeling. * * I shall not be sorry if the government and principal people of Lisbon know the reason why I take this house; viz., that I will not lay myself under obligation to any of them.”  Strong language this, from a man of the Duke’s impassible temperament.  But unfortunately there was too much reason for this, and indeed, for much more animadversion on more serious subjects, as regards many of the chief men of the Peninsula.

Nor were these the only annoyances he had to submit to.  In the early part of his service in the Peninsula, before he had by his brilliant deeds utterly silenced for the present and the future the cavillings of the envious, he was subjected to repeated attacks in Parliament, to predictions of failure—­to everything in short that was calculated to dispirit him and his army.  The government, too, seemed hardly to have “backed him up” as they might have done, either with respect to the force at his command, or their approval of his plans.

Nor were these attacks confined to parliament.  On the 2nd January, 1810, writing to Mr. Villiers, he says:  “You see the dash the Common Council have made at me![1] 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.”  Again, two months after, he refers to what has passed in parliament about him, and observes, “that it does not give him one moment’s concern.”

[Footnote 1:  They had voted an address for an inquiry into his conduct.]

Throughout the dispatches and letters will be found very interesting passages referring to all these difficulties in his path.

In May, 1819, the British again advanced into Spain, and on the 21st of June completely defeated the French at Vittoria, for which the thanks of parliament were voted on the 8th of July.  What was felt in another quarter will be seen by the following letter written by the Prince Regent.

To Field Marshal the Marquis of Wellington, K.G.

Carlton House, 3rd July, 1818

My dear Lord.—­Your glorious conduct is beyond all human praise, and far above my reward.  I know no language the world affords worthy to express it.

I feel I have nothing left to say, but most devoutly to offer up my prayer of gratitude to Providence, that it has, in its Omnipotent bounty, blessed my country and myself with such a general.  You have sent me, amongst the trophies of your unrivalled fame, the staff of a French marshal, and I send you in return that of England.