“Although circumstances may alter the relations in which he has stood towards them for some years, so much to his satisfaction, he assures them he will never cease to feel the warmest interest in their welfare and honour, and that he will be at all times happy to be of any service to those to whose conduct, discipline, and gallantry their country is so much indebted.” How these promises have been kept is too well known, and it is difficult to say whether that he ever made them, or never kept them, is to be regretted most. However, the Duke of Wellington, no doubt, does not put the same construction on his words, and on his acts, that others do; and it will be the task of the historian and posterity to deal with a matter which can be better judged of by unbiassed persons than by the parties interested. That the Duke of Wellington is one of the most remarkable, and perhaps the greatest man of the present age, few will deny; but that he has neglected the interests and feelings of his Peninsular army, as a body, is beyond all question; and were he in his grave to-morrow, hundreds of voices, that are now silent, would echo what I write. All the necessary preparations being made, the armies of the three nations parted, and proceeded on the different routes pointed out for them to follow. The breaking up of this splendid army of veterans, that for six years slept on the field of battle they had invariably won, was a trying moment. Many a bronzed face, that had braved every danger unmoved, was now moistened with a tear; but the proud consciousness that so long as their country required their services, and that nothing, save death, had separated them, until at last they stood triumphant on the threshold of the invaders' country, stifled every other feeling. In fine, the commands of the great man that had so often assembled them at his beck, now separated them—and for ever.