On Monday the Marquess of Buckingham dined with him, as well as a large party of French and English. I was of the number, and we all went to a concert of very moderate music in the evening at the Capitolium. The Duke at eight the next morning was off for Madrid. He intends to rejoin us at Bordeaux, and then to return through Paris, and to be in London about the 10th of June. This is a great deal too much, and I think almost impossible. These exertions make him look thin and rather worn; but he was very gay, and in excellent spirits whilst here.
The American party was all settled by him finally, and is all on the road to Bordeaux, or now there. It will be of about nine or ten thousand men, I should think, and strong in artillery. Our faithful six 18-pounders, which have marched all the way from Lisbon since this day twelvemonth! on roads which never have, I think, or will see such animals again, were embarked yesterday on the Garonne, for Bordeaux, to be of the party; and their little grand-children, the mountain guns, go also. At first the expedition was by no means popular, but is now tolerably so, and the staff appointments have been of course much in request. Lord Fitzroy Somerset, who is the great manager of all this, and prime minister, has been very busy, and we have all the intrigues of a little court in miniature. Those who have been long here on the staff, and with high brevet rank, will feel much a return to their regimental duty and rank, and still more if their fate be half-pay? I hear of nothing except all this, and the schemes to get provided for. The regimental officers are those who like this new expedition the least.
On seeing the Duke of Wellington the last time, I said, I concluded he would wish me to go down to Bordeaux with the army. He answered, “Oh, yes, you had better.” We are already almost without Generals. We shall remain here, it is said, some days yet. The orders, however, are all given for our movement as soon after we receive official news of the garrison of Figueras having marched for France as possible. In the mean time all wounded, &c., are moving now. The cavalry also are to set out on their way overland to England as soon as the French Government have finally agreed to that arrangement. I should not at all dislike to march with this party. The Portuguese troops remain with the British until the Commissaries can part entirely with the mule transport. They then separate, taking all the mules and muleteers with them attached to different regiments for rations, &c., and set out through Spain for Portugal, a good three months’ trip, the weather growing warmer and warmer all the way, to the great enjoyment, I conclude, of the natives. At Almeida the muleteers have been promised to be paid all their arrears.
The British from hence are to encamp near Bordeaux, ready to be off as transports arrive. The Spaniards move out of France the first of all, at the signal of Figueras, to the joy of all parties. The Guards and troops at Bayonne are likely to be the last, for they are to remain until all stores, wounded, &c., are clear out of the Adour and St. Jean de Luz, &c. The people here will be very sorry to lose us, partly from the loss of the money spent here, and partly from their dread of those who will succeed us—their own countrymen.
I understand General Clausel was the only one of the French here who admitted the truth that they were fairly beaten into taking their King. The others feel it, but will not own it, and are very sulky in consequence; and in general not civil to our officers. Some of the French gens-d’armes are expected on Monday in this town to do duty, I believe, to levy taxes, &c. It is to be hoped that this will not lead to quarrels with our men.
The continuance of the Droits réunis is very unpopular, and, in my opinion, the effervescence of loyalty is somewhat subsiding already. We all expect disturbances also in Spain. I hope the Duke will resign his command, and have nothing to do with either party. It is said even the armies are divided, and ours here (Frere’s) is for the Cortes. What with Spain, Ireland, Norway, America, and perhaps the interior of France, the world will after all, it is feared, not be in that state of profound peace which was generally expected.
Yesterday and to-day I have received letters from you of the 3rd and 10th of May, and papers to the latter date, which contain precisely the same news as those from London through Paris. There seems to be nothing very important either way.
I have just got the papers relating to a most extraordinary story of a murder at Lisbon. It is a most complete novel, and would be incredibly romantic as such. A Commissary named R—— had an English girl (a lady) who lived with him. Another Commissary named S——, his friend, had long been living in the same house with him. After a time Mr. R—— conceived that Mr. S—— was undermining the affections of the lady. He taxes her with it, she confesses, and says she has promised to live with S——, but swears nothing improper had ever passed. Mr. R—— persuades her to give up this scheme, stating how dishonourably S—— had betrayed him, his friend. He then tells this friend his discovery, and upbraids him. S—— says that the lady has been faithless to R——, and is the betrayer. R——, in despair, is going to quit the house, the lady, and the whole connexion; but he previously repeats to her what Mr. S—— told him. She solemnly denies it, and then goes out with S——. I should have mentioned that the three had just before this conversation ridden out together without speaking, and sat together at dinner without speaking or eating. The explanation between R—— and the lady then took place, immediately after which S—— and the lady went out of the house. Three pistol-shots are heard. R—— goes into the garden, finds his mistress shot dead. S—— ran by him into the house apparently wounded, his handkerchief to his head. He forced his way to a table-drawer, took out a razor, and cut his throat quite across. He still survived both wounds when the account came away, and deliberately confesses in writing that by the lady’s desire, by their joint consent and agreement, he was to kill both; her first, and then himself. This he endeavoured to accomplish, but in vain as to himself. Mr. R—— declines telling who the lady is, except in a court of justice, in order to prevent unnecessary pain to her friends in England.
I have been asked, “What is to be done?” and whether, if the delinquent is mad, I thought that he must be tried for the murder? It surely was very unfortunate that the poor man had not been left in the hands of the Portuguese surgeons and doctors, who pronounced him a dead man, and his wounds incurable. The skill of an English surgeon has unluckily enabled this unhappy being to stand the chance of either being hung or confined for life as a madman for the rest of his days.
The 22nd, Post-day.—I send you, being dull myself, a part of a Gazette de France, which paper I take in regularly. Some part of the Franc parleur is well done. The same feelings exist here in the army. Were I a French officer I should feel in the same way.