During the splendid movement which Lord Wellington made from the frontiers of Portugal, and which ultimately compelled the French to concentrate their army and fight the disastrous battle of Vittoria; the Assistant-commissary-general attached to one of the divisions, had, through mistake, come into a part of the country, the supplies to be got from which were allotted to the 3rd; and he was waiting patiently, in a neat Spanish village, for the baking of a large quantity of bread, to be finished; which he intended for his own division. Whilst this was going forward, he had taken care, as commissaries usually did, to establish himself in one of the best houses. Sir Thomas Picton very soon learnt what he was about; and ordered that he should be brought before him. "How dare you, Sir, to plunder that village?" "I am no plunderer, Sir, and am only procuring bread for my division," "Neither you nor your division, have a right to any thing in that village; and if you don't instantly be off, Sir, I will order the provost-marshal to hang you up on that tree." The zealous commissary (indeed he was one of the most efficient in the army, and well known to be so by Sir Thomas, who during the scene could scarcely conceal how much he was amused), set off in great alarm, and without further reply, at speed, to head-quarters; which happened to be not very distant, where, we were told, he requested to see Lord Wellington: "What is the matter?" demanded his Lordship, upon observing the commissary's great perturbation. He told his story; concluding by declaring, "and he was actually going to hang me!" His Lordship, now scarcely able, as the story was told--to keep his gravity, asked with much apparent earnestness, "Did he really say, that he would hang you?" "Yes, he really did." "Then," said his lordship, "take my advice, and keep out of his way, or he will certainly do so." The worthy commissary now began, for the first time, to suspect that he had been made to cut a ridiculous figure. Sir Thomas Picton, though stern in aspect, possessed a most warm, benevolent, and feeling heart. As an instance of this I cannot help relating what occurred on one occasion in Spain. An officer, commanding one of the regiments of his division, was killed in action. He, like too many soldiers who fell in battle, left his widow and a child in very narrow circumstances. This by some means or other came to Sir Thomas Picton's knowledge, when he sent for a field-officer of the regiment, to find out from him the widow's address; and his feeling remark on the occasion was, "that both grief and poverty were hard to be borne at one time." Having got the information he wanted, he took care that a large sum of money (being apprehensive of making a mistake, I shall not venture to say how much) was paid to her.