In the early part of the year 1820 a partial brevet took place to reward meritorious officers, whose names through oversight had been passed over. I presented myself to H.R.H. the Duke of York, and asked to be included. His Royal Highness replied that the partial promotion contemplated was intended as a reward for services performed in the field. I took the liberty of remarking that it was for services performed in the field I applied for promotion, adding that I should not value promotion otherwise obtained. The duke then said that in mentioning services overlooked, allusion was made to those officers whose names were mentioned in despatches. In reply I felt emboldened to remark that, although my name was not mentioned in despatches, yet, besides other strong testimonials, I was strongly recommended for distinguished conduct in two different actions by the generals who respectively commanded in each, than whom the British Army cannot boast more brilliant military characters--Lords Hill and Lynedoch. His Royal Highness was pleased to make a pencil note, and bowed. I retired; and of the import of that note I remain to this day ignorant, as I never had further communication on the subject. During my interview with the Commander-in-chief I presented the Duke of Kent’s letter, which was returned next day without comment. Against the presentation of this letter I was strongly advised; but guided by my own sentiments and feelings, I would not be dissuaded. I considered that whatever difference of opinion might have subsisted between the illustrious personages, all unfriendly feelings would cease in the breast of the survivor. Yet, though I felt chagrin at the little notice taken of His Royal Highness’s letter, I consoled myself a little with the thought that the infant Princess Victoria, coming in nature’s course to the throne, might perhaps be pleased to take into consideration that which her royal sire had expressed so much anxiety to promote. But the royal brothers now lie side by side in peace, and so close that “The vet’ran’s sigh, to gallant York that’s sent, Glides trembling o’er the breast of virtuous Kent”; and the time has gone by for vexing either with my claims. CHAPTER XXXI. I MAKE MY BOW.