It is with feelings of the utmost satisfaction and pride that I notice, contemporaneously with the appearance of this work, the concession of a medal to our Peninsular veterans by the high-minded Sovereign of England, whose propitious name and reign are identified with victory:-- Ἀλλὰ γὰρ ἁ μεγαλώνυμος ἦλθε Νίκα. Soph. _Antig._ 148. VICTORIA came with mighty name and glory. With equal pain have I witnessed, having traversed Spain at the period, the recent success of French intrigue and the spectacle of renewed subserviency. The wedding-ring may replace the sword, but the instrument, because less bloody, is not less fatal to Liberty; and the words of Byron, at the close of the first Canto of _Childe Harold_, become invested with prophetic and appalling truthfulness:-- Not all the blood at Talavera shed, Not all the marvels of Barosa’s fight, Not Albuera lavish of the dead, Have won for Spain her well asserted right. When shall her Olive-Branch be free from blight? When shall she breathe her from the blushing toil? How many a doubtful day shall sink in night, Ere the Frank robber turn him from his spoil, And Freedom’s stranger-tree grow native of the soil! _Lisbon, 1st March, 1847._ INTRODUCTION. Of all the great achievements which make up the sum of British glory, the Peninsular War and its results form one of the grandest, brightest, and most unimpeachable. These gigantic efforts were made in the holy cause of Freedom; they were disinterested in a high and unparalleled degree; their success was uniform, brilliant, and startling; and their guerdon was the liberation and advancement of mankind.