ouse. Late in the evening, after the guests had left the
supper room, and it was pretty well deserted, he felt a desire
for another glass of wine. There was nobody in the supper
room. He was just pouring out a glass of champagne for himself,
when he heard a voice behind him. "Youngster, what are you
doing?" He turned round. It was the Duke. He said, "I am
getting a glass of wine." To this the Duke replied, "You ought
to be up-stairs dancing. There are but two things, Sir, for
a boy like you to be doing. One is fighting; the other dancing
with the girls. As for me I'm going to bed." Thereupon the
Duke passed round the table; touched a spring which opened
a secret door, in what was apparently a set of book-shelves,
and disappeared.

Sir Seymour Blaine told another story which, I dare say,
is well known. But I have never seen it in print. He said
that just before the Battle of Talavera when the Duke, then
Sir Arthur Wellesley, was in command in Spain, the English
and French armies had been marching for many days on parallel
lines, neither quite liking to attack the other, and neither
having got the advantage in position which they were seeking.
At last, one day, when everybody was pretty weary with the
fatigues of the march, the Duke summoned some of his leading
officers together and said to them: "You see that clump of
trees (pointing to one a good distance away, but in sight
from where they stood)--when the head of the French column
reaches that clump of trees, attack. As for me I'm going
to sleep under this bush." Thereupon the great soldier lay
down, all his arrangements being made, and everything being
in readiness, and took his nap while the great battle of Talavera--
on which the fate of Spain and perhaps the fate of Europe
depended--was begun. This adds another instance to the list
of the occasions to which Mr. Everett refers when he speaks
of Webster's sleeping soundly the night before his great reply
to Hayne.

"So the great Conde' slept on the eve of the battle of Rocroi;
so Alexander slept on the eve of the battle of Arbela; and
so they awoke to deeds of immortal fame!"

But this dinner of Mr. Frewen's had a very interesting consequence.
As I took leave of him at his door about eleven o'clock, he
asked me if there were anything more he could do for me. I
said, "No, unless you happen to know the Lord Bishop of London.
I have a great longing to see the Bradford Manuscript before
I go home