I will mention an incident which happened to me when I arrived at Oporto; and the motive I have in touching on so trifling an occurrence is, that an opinion as to the French influence in Portugal, even at that promising time, may be in some measure drawn from it. I arrived at Oporto about five o’clock in the evening, and received a billet upon a respectable house for myself, my servant, and two horses. The master of this house was a rich lawyer; and although I learnt that quarters were very indifferent in the town, yet the appearance of the house inspired me with the hope that I should be enabled to make a better report on this subject, as far as regarded myself. The outward gates of the house were open, and I walked up a wide staircase: having knocked at a large door, I was admitted by a cross-looking woman, who in answer to my question of whether the gentleman of the house was at home, replied, with a shrug of the shoulders, “_Nao esta in caza_” (not within). I explained the nature of my visit, producing the paper which authorised it; and immediately the countenance of the dame wore the most vinegar aspect: “_Nao esta quartelia, Senhor, nada, nada, nada_” (no room, none, none.) This I knew must be false, from the size of the house, as well as from my knowledge of the disposition of many of the Portuguese to shift off the trouble of accommodating English officers. However, I was determined to act only through the authorities; for the Commander of the forces was very scrupulous upon this point, and justly so; for many officers during former campaigns had acted rather despotically in their quarters, and occasioned reports of such a nature as to call forth a general order upon the subject, the effects of which were sorely felt by those officers whose conduct was peaceable and conciliating. Consistent with the spirit of this order, I left the old Donna, telling my servant he was to remain, and returned to the Portuguese authorities, who gave me the billet. On describing my reception, one of them burst out into exclamations of rage, declaring that the person on whom I was billeted was a liar and a favourer of the French. “He had room enough in his house for _four_ French officers,” said he; “and if he does not find accommodation for you, Sir, in every way befitting a British officer, I will send him a dozen of Portuguese soldiers.” He then wrote a note to the lawyer, and requested me to take no excuse from him, but to order my servant to carry my luggage at once into the house. I pursued the directions given,--ordered my boy to unload and place my panniers, &c. in the house, and proceeded up stairs myself. The door was opened, and without ceremony I walked into the principal room of the house, where I discovered the lawyer in a fever of anxiety. He was a little smoke-dried man, of about fifty years of age, dressed in a spotted _robe de chambre_, and powdered in the highest style of professional ultraism.