Doodle Dudley, G.C.B., who commanded
the division. The General was very old,
close on eighty; but he was "made up"
to represent a gentleman of about forty.
His chesnut wig fitted him to perfection,
and his whiskers were dyed so adroitly
that they were an exact imitation of their
original colour. The white teeth were
all false—likewise the pink colour in the
cheeks and the ivory hue of the forehead. As
for the General's dress, it fitted him like a
glove, and his patent leather boots and his
gold spurs were the neatest and prettiest I
had ever seen. In early life, Sir Doodle had
been a rival and an acquaintance of Beau
Brummell. When a colonel in the Peninsular
war, he had been what is called a very good
regimental officer; but, from eighteen
hundred and eighteen until his appointment to
India, in eighteen hundred and forty-seven, as
a general of division, he had been unattached,
and had never done a single day's duty. He
was so hopelessly deaf, that he never
even attempted to ask what was said to him;
but a stranger, as I was, would scarcely
have credited it; for the General talked,
laughed, and rattled on as though he were
perfectly unconscious of his infirmity. I
ventured a casual remark touching the
late dust-storm which had swept over the
district, to which the General very vivaciously
replied:

"Yes, my good, sir. I knew her in the
zenith of her beauty and influence, when she
was a lady patroness of Almack's and the
chief favourite of his Royal Highness the
Prince Regent. Oh, yes! she is dead, I see
by the last overland paper; but I did not
think she was so old as they say she was—
eighty-four. Only fancy, eighty-four!" Then
darting off at a tangent, he remarked: "I
see they give it out that I am to have the
command-in-chief at Bombay. The fact is, I
don't want Bombay, and so I have told my
friends at the Horse Guards at least a dozen
times. I want the governorship and the
command-in-chief at the Cape; but, if they
thrust Bombay upon me, I suppose I must
take it. One can't always pick and choose,
and I fancy it is only right to oblige now
and then."

"We shall be very sorry to lose you, General,"
said my friend, mechanically, "very sorry
indeed."

"So I have told his Excellency," exclaimed
the General, who presumed that my friend
was now talking on an entirely different
subject. "So I have told him. But he will not
listen to me. He says that if the court
martial still adheres to its finding of murder,
he will upset the whole of the proceedings,
and order the man to return to his duty;
and the court will adhere to its original
finding; for the court says, and I say,
that a private who deliberately loads
his firelock, and deliberately fires at and
wounds a sergeant, cannot properly be
convicted of manslaughter only. Well; it
cannot be helped, I suppose. The fact is,
the commander-in-chief is now too old
for his work; and he is, as he always
was, very obstinate and self-willed." And
the General continued: "For the
command of an army or a division in India, we
want men who are not above listening to the
advice of the experienced officers by whom
they are surrounded!"

When we were leaving the General, he
mistook me for my friend and my friend for
me, and respectively addressed us accordingly.
(His eyesight was very imperfect, and
he was too vain to wear glasses.) He thanked
me for having brought my friend to call upon
him, and assured my friend that it would
afford him the greatest pleasure in the world
if the acquaintance, that day made, should
ripen into friendship.

"He is an imbecile," I remarked, when
we were driving away from the General's
door.

"Yes, and he has been for the last six or
seven years," was the reply.

"But he must be labouring under some
delusion with respect to being appointed
to the command-in-chief of an Indian
presidency?"

"Nothing of the kind. He is certain of it.
He will go to Bombay before six weeks are
over. You will see."

The General went to Bombay, where he
played such fantastic tricks before high heaven,
that the angels could not have "wept"
for laughing at them. Amongst other
things, he insisted on the officers of the
regiments buttoning their coats and jackets
up to the throat, during the hottest time
of the year! He would have nothing
unmilitary, he said, "hot climate or no
hot climate." He was quite childish before
he relinquished his command, and was
brought home just in time to die in his
fatherland, and at the country seat of his
aristocratic ancestors. Although utterly
unfitted, in his after life, to command troops, he
was a very polished old gentleman,
externally; and having enjoyed a very intimate
acquaintance with Blucher, and other
celebrated commanders, he could repeat many
anecdotes of them worthy of remembrance.
"Blucher," he used to say, "generally turned
into bed all standing, jack-boots included;
and if his valet forgot to take off his
spurs, and they became entangled with the
sheets, woe betide the valet! The torrent of
abuse that he poured forth, was something
terrific." I also heard the General say that
Blucher, having seen everything in London,
remarked with great earnestness: "Give
me Ludgate Hill!" and on being asked to
explain why, replied, with reference to the
number of jewellers' and silversmiths' shops
which, in that day, decorated the locality,

"Mein Gott! What pillage!"

After leaving the General's house, we