(IN HUMBLE IMITATION OF THE AUTHOR OF "THE GREAT METROPOLIS.")
No. I.--THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON.
Before entering on this series of papers, I have only one request to make
of the reader, which is this: that, however absurd or incredible my
statements may appear, he will take them all for _Grant_-ed.
It will hardly be necessary to apologise for making the hero of Waterloo
the subject of this article; for, having had always free access to the
parlour of the Duke of Wellington, I flatter myself that I am peculiarly
fitted for the task I have undertaken.
My acquaintance with the duke commenced in a very singular manner. During
the discussions on the Reform Bill, his grace was often the object of
popular pelting; and I was, on one occasion, among a crowd of free-born
Englishmen who, disliking his political opinions, were exercising the
constitutional privilege of hooting him. Fired by the true spirit of
British patriotism, and roused to a pitch of enthusiasm by observing that
the crowd were all of one opinion, decidedly against the duke, worked up,
too, with momentary boldness by perceiving that there was not a policeman
in sight, I seized a cabbage-leaf, with which I caught his nose, when,
turning round suddenly to look whence the blow proceeded, I caught his eye.
It was a single glance; but there was something in it which said more than,
perhaps, if I had attempted to lead him into conversation, he would at that
moment have been inclined to say to me. The recognition was brief, lasting
scarcely an instant; for a policeman coming round the corner, the great
constitutional party with whom I had been acting retired in haste, rather
than bring on a collision with a force which was at that time particularly
obnoxious to all the true friends of excessive liberty.
It will, perhaps, surprise my readers, when I inform them that this is the
only personal interview I ever enjoyed with the illustrious duke; but
accustomed as I am to take in character at a glance, and to form my
conclusions at a wink, I gained, perhaps, as much, or more, information
with regard to the illustrious hero, as I have been enabled to do with
regard to many of those members of the House of Lords whom, in the course
of my "Random Recollections," it is my intention to treat of.
I never, positively, dined with the Duke of Wellington; but on one occasion
I was very near doing so. Whether the duke himself is aware of the
circumstances that prevented our meeting at the same table I never knew,
and have no wish to inquire; but when his grace peruses these pages, he
will perceive that our political views are not so opposite as the
_dastardly enemies_ of both would have made the world suppose them to have
been. The story of the dinner is simply this:--there was to be a meeting
for the purpose of some charity at the Freemasons'-hall, and the Duke of
Wellington was to take the chair. I was offered a ticket by a friend
connected with the press. My friend broke his word. I did not attend the
dinner. But those virulent liars much malign me who say I stopped away
because the duke was in the chair; and much more do they libel me who would
hint that my absence was caused by a difference with the duke on the
subject of politics. Whether Wellington observed that I did not attend I
never knew, nor shall I stop to inquire; but when I say that his grace
spoke several times, and never once mentioned my name, it will be seen that
whatever may have been his _thoughts_ on the occasion, he had the delicacy
and good taste to make no allusion whatever to the subject, which, but for
its intrinsic importance, I should not so long have dwelt upon,
Looking over some papers the other day in my drawer, with the intention of
selecting any correspondence that might have passed between myself and the
duke, I found that his grace had never written to me more than once; but
the single communication I had received from him was so truly
characteristic of the man, that I cannot refrain from giving the whole of
it. Having heard it reported that the duke answered with his own hand every
letter that he received, I, who generally prefer judging in all things for
myself, determined to put his grace's epistolary punctuality to the test of
experience. With this view I took up my pen, and dashed off a few lines, in
which I made no allusion, either to my first interview, or the affair of
the dinner; but simply putting forward a few general observations on the
state of the country, signed with my own name, and dated from
Whetstone-park, which was, at that time, my residence. The following was
the reply I received from the duke, which I print _verbatim_, as an
index--short, but comprehensive, as an index ought to be--to the noble
duke's character.
"Apsley-house.
"The Duke of Wellington begs to return the enclosed letter, as he
neither knows the person who wrote it, nor the reason of sending
it."
This, as I said before, is perhaps one of the most graphic _traits_ on
record of the peculiar disposition of the hero of Waterloo. It bespeaks at
once the soldier and the politician. He answers the letter with military
precision, but with political astuteness--he pretends to be ignorant of the
object I had in sending it. His ready reply was the first impulse of the
man; his crafty and guarded mode of expression was the cautious act of the
minister. Had I been disposed to have written a second time to my
illustrious correspondent, I now had a fine opportunity of doing so; but I
preferred letting the matter drop, and from that day to this, all
communication between myself and the duke has ceased. _I_ shall not be the
first to take any step for the purpose of resuming it. The duke must, by
this time, know me too well to suppose that I have any desire to keep up a
correspondence which could lead to no practical result, and might only tear
open afresh wounds that the healing hand of time has long ago restored to
their former salubrity.
It may be expected I should say a few words of the duke's person. He
generally wears a frock coat, and rides frequently on horseback. His nose
is slightly curved; but there is nothing peculiar in his hat or boots, the
latter of which are, of course, Wellington's. His habits are still those of
a soldier, for he gets up and goes to bed again much as he was accustomed
to do in the days of the Peninsula. His speeches in Parliament I have never
heard; but I have read some of them in the newspapers. He is now getting
old; but I cannot tell his exact age: and he has a son who, if he should
survive his father, will undoubtedly attain to the title of Duke of
Wellington.
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