In 1821 Wellington revisited the scene of his most famous battle with George IV, and afterwards proceeded to Verona to represent, with Lord Strangford, Great Britain at the Congress about to be held there to determine the attitude of England, France, Russia, Austria, and Prussia regarding various matters, including the insurrection in Greece and the relations of Russia and Turkey in the matter, the evacuation of Piedmont and Naples by the Austrian troops, the slave trade, and more particularly the unhappy state of affairs in Spain, which country was then in a state of civil war. Should the five Powers send armed assistance to Ferdinand, whom Wellington’s victories in the Peninsula had replaced on the throne? Answering for his own country the Duke maintained the principle of non-interference excepting in a case of necessity. In this matter Great Britain stood alone, and the Duke had to run the gauntlet of fierce criticism on his return to England.
His next continental journey was in 1826, when he was sent on a special mission to Petersburg on the accession of the Emperor Nicholas, with the object of arriving at a satisfactory settlement of the projected Russian attack on Turkey over the Greek difficulty. In this he was not entirely successful, for after events proved that he had only succeeded in staving off the evil day.
On the death of the Duke of York in the following year, Wellington was appointed Commander-in-Chief, retaining his other office, which controlled merely the artillery and engineers.
A month later Canning became Prime Minister, and the Duke was asked to continue as a member of the Cabinet. This request he not only declined, but surrendered his two important offices as well. Mutual suspicion seems to have been the cause of this unexpected event, certainly not jealousy, for Wellington said that he should be “worse than mad if he had ever thought of it for a moment,” the “it” referring to his possible appointment as First Lord of the Treasury. Canning did not live long to enjoy the sweets of office, for he died on the following August, and was succeeded by “Prosperity” Robinson, otherwise Lord Goderich, who resigned at the beginning of 1828.
The Duke, once again Commander-in-Chief, was sent for by George IV, and requested to form a Ministry. He obeyed with the instinct of a soldier when ordered by his superior officer, rather than as a keen politician about to have his highest ambition gratified. Wellington was a Tory, and the political freedom of the Roman Catholics and the reform of Parliament were the burning questions of the hour. The Duke was uncertain as to the practical utility of either, but he was not prepared to go against the known wishes of the nation so far as the religious question was concerned. After navigating a sea of difficulties, the Roman Catholic Relief Bill passed both Houses in the early days of 1829. One of his opponents, the Earl of Winchilsea, charged Wellington with “breaking in upon the Constitution of 1688 in order that he might the more effectively, under the cloak of some outward show of zeal for the Protestant religion, carry on his insidious designs for the infringement of our liberties, and the introduction of Popery in every department of the State.” The Premier requested an apology, which was not forthcoming, whereupon the former demanded “satisfaction,” in other words, a duel. Sir Henry Hardinge for Wellington and Lord Falmouth for Winchilsea were the respective seconds.
The meeting took place in Battersea Fields.[103] “Now then, Hardinge,” said the Duke, “look sharp and step out the ground. I have no time to waste. Don’t stick him up so near the ditch. If I hit him he will tumble in.” The signal was given to fire. Noting that his opponent did not level his pistol on the command being given, the Duke purposely fired wide, and an instant afterwards Winchilsea fired in the air. The latter then produced a written sheet which he called an apology, which had to be altered before it met with Wellington’s approval. “Good morning, my Lord Winchilsea; good morning, my Lord Falmouth,” cried the Duke as he saluted with two fingers, and, mounting his horse, cantered off.
The Duke had a most thankless task during his administration, so much so that we find him writing, “If I had known in January 1828, one tithe of what I do now, and of what I discovered one month after I was in office, I should never have been the King’s Minister, and so have avoided loads of misery. However, I trust God Almighty will soon determine that I have been sufficiently punished for my sins and will relieve me from the unlucky lot which has befallen me. I believe there never was a man who suffered so much for so little purpose.”
He had almost as much trouble with the King as had Pitt with George III, and many of his old supporters were indignant with him over the Relief Bill. Wellington vehemently opposed Parliamentary Reform in the face of public opinion, with the result that his Ministry rode to a fall in November 1830.
Two months before he had taken part in the opening ceremony of the Manchester and Liverpool Railway, the first line to cater for passenger traffic in the British Empire. He rode in one of the two trains which made the initial journey, and the fact that they both went in the same direction was the cause of a lamentable accident which deprived one of Wellington’s friends of his life. The incident occurred at Parkside, where the engines stopped to obtain a supply of water. While the trains were at a standstill, Mr Huskisson, formerly President of the Board of Trade, got out of the carriage in which he had been travelling and sought Wellington. A minute or two later the train on the opposite line started. One of the open doors knocked him down, and his right leg was crushed by the locomotive. The Duke and several others ran to the injured man’s assistance, but his injuries were such that he only survived a few hours.
Wellington was succeeded as First Lord of the Treasury by Earl Grey, whose Government was speedily defeated by the Reform Bill which it introduced being rejected by the Lords. Riots broke out in London and the provinces; William IV “was frightened by the appearance of the people outside of St James’s”; the celebrated Dr Arnold wrote that his “sense of the evils of the times, and to what purpose I am bringing up my children, is overwhelmingly bitter.” The King implored the Ministers not to hand in their resignation, the House of Commons carried by a large majority a vote of confidence in the Government, and the nation showed that it bitterly resented the action of the Lords. There was an attempt at compromise, but the concessions were so trivial from Wellington’s point of view that he declined to take part in the negotiations. After further angry scenes in the following session Grey resigned on the 9th May 1832. It was during this trying period of our national history that the window-panes of Apsley House were stoned and the Duke’s life was threatened.[104]