Maxims and Opinions of Field-Marshal His Grace the Duke of Wellington, Selected From His Writings and Speeches During a Public Life of More Than Half a Century

by Duke of Arthur Wellesley Wellington

The Duke's acknowledgement, was simple, according to his character, and modest as became his position. He said, "The noble lord, who I hope will allow me to call him my noble friend, has stated to you with great truth, that there are times and circumstances in which, and under which, all feelings of party, all party animosity, all descriptions of political feelings must be laid aside. I must do my noble and learned friend the justice to say, that for years and years there has been nothing of that description in social life as between him and me, notwithstanding which it is certainly true that I have had the misfortune of differing in opinion with my noble and learned friend upon many points of internal and possibly of other descriptions of policy. But I am afraid that, notwithstanding my most anxious wish to co-operate with all of you in the public service in which we have all been employed, I may happen (I know it does happen) to differ with some of you upon subjects of political interest to the country. But my noble and learned friend judges of you correctly when he says that such feelings of difference would not prevent you—as they have not prevented you—from doing me the honour of inviting me to this festival, and of bringing here to meet me not only the whole of this interesting county, but persons from all parts of the kingdom and even from abroad. Therefore my noble and learned friend does you as well as himself justice when he states that there are occasions—occasions in relation to individuals as well as in relation to public interests and services—in which all feelings of party politics and opinions must be laid aside, in order to carry on the public service to the greatest point of advantage to the public interest. I have had sufficient experience in public life to know that this must be the case. I am convinced that it is that feeling which has induced you to pay this tribute of respect to the person holding the situation of Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports, in order that you might encourage others hereafter to perform their duty honestly and conscientiously in the same honourable office."

On the 18th November, the same year, the Duke had an attack of epilepsy, which for a short time alarmed the public greatly for his safety, on account of his advanced age. Sir Astley Cooper and Dr. Hume were down at Walmer with him for a week, at the end of which time he recovered, greatly to the joy of the whole nation. It turned out that the Duke had brought on the attack adopting, to cure himself of a slight illness, a mode of treatment which would not be the most wise in a man of twenty-five, but was most dangerous to one so advanced in years. The Duke is very determined on such points—can never be persuaded that he is not the same man in point of constitution that he was when in the Peninsula; and still preserves all the hardy habits of a soldier's life. On this occasion he had sought to cure himself by fasting and cold bathing: he then, while under this treatment, followed the hounds, the consequence of which was that he fainted, and was soon afterwards seized as described.

On the return of Sir Robert Peel to power, in 1841, the Duke of Wellington again joined him; but this time he took no office, though accepting a seat in the cabinet. He still continued to lead in the lords, where his influence is fully felt, and where he constantly astonishes the house and silences his detractors by displaying a degree of knowledge on all legislative subjects scarcely compatible with his military education, and an activity and attention to business that would be admirable in any one, but which are still more praiseworthy as the voluntary service of a man who has conferred such distinguished benefits on his country.

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Few men have been so blessed by fortune as to have been enabled to achieve a first-rate reputation in arms, and afterwards to arrive at as great distinction in the arts of peace. Rarely, at long intervals in the lapse of time, such opportunities have been afforded to great men; but still more rarely have even the greatest men been able to use them. To the Duke of Wellington, in our own time, has this high honour been especially vouchsafed; and no man ever yet lived who shewed himself more worthy the distinction, or more able to fulfill the demands of his country, whether in peace or in war. His youth and prime were spent in achieving victories: to preserve to posterity the fruits of those victories, in steady government, together with free institutions; to make England such an example for foreign nations as would render all such victories unnecessary hereafter; this has been the still more glorious task of his declining years.

The military reputation of the Duke of Wellington rests on so firm a basis, that it will never be shaken. So long as military science is necessary in the world, so long will his system of tactics be followed by commanders responsible in their own hearts for the lives of their soldiers, and to their country for the conduct of their enterprises.

Of the military value of his dispositions and movements, military critics have recorded, almost universally, their unqualified praise. To civilians, it is left to admire the constant and watchful care of the Duke, whether in India or the Peninsula, in securing the due provision for his troops, while he at the same time maintained the strictest honour towards the natives who supplied them; and to respect the clearness of his perception, the sagacity of his decisions, and, above all, the firmness and determination of purpose which sustained him amidst every drawback and difficulty, until by his success he compelled his detractors to yield themselves captive to his judgment. It is only necessary to read the dispatches and general orders of the Duke of Wellington, in order to be convinced that he is not a mere soldier winning battles by superior tactics, but that he is also a man of a very high order of general talent, with an unusual insight into human nature, and possessing almost an instinctive knowledge of how mankind are to be governed. By that wonderful exposition of the comprehensive, wise, and philanthropic mind of the man, even his enemies were subdued.

Much controversy has been spent upon the demeanour of the Duke towards his soldiers, which has been stigmatised as cold, distant, at times harsh, and even selfish. For the charges of coldness and distance there appears to be some foundation. Unlike Napoleon, the Duke of Wellington never appealed to the enthusiasm of his soldiers; but he always relied upon their sense of duty. He regarded his army, organized by discipline, as a perfect machine, upon the performance of which he could calculate with precision, and as he never expected it to do more than it ought, so he never looked to see it do less. The idea of duty, of absolute responsibility and subordination from rank to rank, seems to have been that to which he was always content to appeal. Accordingly, his troops never failed him. Their rock-like steadfastness and constant unimpulsive bravery, it was that enabled him to carry out his plans with such certainty.

The contrast to Napoleon is no Where more seen than in the dispatches of the one and the bulletins of the other. In his demeanour to his men, the Duke was reserved; in his language, curt and laconic. If his troops felt the moral certainty that he was leading them to victory, and honoured him accordingly, it was not from personal enthusiasm, such as the wild love the emperor inspired in those around him, but from a deep respect for his character and a reliance on his talents. Nor did he condescend to charlatantism or bombast, as his great rival too often did. There is not the slightest trace of vanity about him. Compare the speech of the one to his army, beneath the Pyramids, with the simple, "Up, guards, and at them!" of the other. In these trifles, we find the key to the real minds of great men.

The political character of the Duke, and his services as a civilian, have never been sufficiently appreciated by the great mass of his countrymen. His brilliant military reputation cast into the shade his sterling but unobtrusive services as a senator and as a minister. It was even the fashion, for a long time, to assert that his taking office at all was a sign of defective judgment. Indeed, when he declared, in the House of Lords, that he would be "worse than mad to think of such a thing," he gave a colour to the supposition. His subsequent assertion, after he had become prime minister, that he had done so "because nobody else would," conveyed, in all probability, the simple truth. The Duke did not know his own capacity for government, until it was tried.