THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON.

Shannon News, 7 February 1928, Page 3

THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON.

SOME PIQUANT STORIES

A recent article dealing with biographies of the Duke of Wellington contained the following stories taken from various volumes:

A salient trait in Wellington’s character was his innate modesty and hatred of anything to fuss. In liis old age, though physically very shaky, lie specially disliked being helped, Or it being assumed that he w'as decrepit and needed “helping” in public places. .JEIe well knew, says Sir William Fraser, that the majority of persons who came forward to help him simply did so that they might be able to say they had done so. Once a fussy old gentleman, seeing His Grace standing on the curbstone in Piccadilly, being just about to cross the street, made some demonstration of assisting the Duke to cross the road, endeavouring to check the tide of cabs and vehicles generally that was setting in strongly. When the Duke reached the gates of Apsley House he touched hi# hat to the old gentleman and . said simply, “I thank you, sir.” Sir William continues: —

The elderly ' stranger immediately uncovered, holding his hat at his knee and addressed the Duke as follows: “My Lord, I have passed a long and not uneventful life, but never did 1 hope to reach the day when I might be of use to' the greatest man that ever lived.”

Wellington, so the story goes, simply but emphatically replied: “Don’t be a damned fool,” and stalked forward into Apsley House. ■ Most celebrities are frequently the victims of the autograph hunting tribe. Wellington, of course, was fairly bombarded by requests for llis autograph. On one occasion, he received the following letter: —

Mr Tomkins ventures to address the Duke of Wellington. Mr Tomikin’s mother is a washerwoman. Mr Tomkins regrets to say that, havingwashed for the Marquess of Douro for many years, his mother has been unable to obtain payment for the last three years. Mrs Tomkins is very poor, and cannot afford to lose the money. She hopes the Duke will kindly pay it. Mrs Tomkins’s address is

The Duke, with his proverbial promptness, replied

Field Marshal the Duke of Wellington has received a letter from Mr Tomkins, stating that the Marquess of Douro is in debt to his mother, Mrs Tomkins.

The Duke of Wellington is not the Maiapiess of Douro. Mrs Tomkins has no claim upon the Duke of Wellington. The Duke recommends her, failing another application, to place the matter in the hands of a respectable solicitor.

A few weeks later, the Duke had a dinner- party, at which was present a guest who introduced the subject o 1 autographs, and someone asked the Duke if he were not tormented in this 'way. The Duke replied, * 1 Oh, yes, constantly. I really only answer genuine letters./’ The guest then said: A • few days ago I was examining a most interesting collection put together by a person who has laboured on it for many years. Do you know, I saw your Grace’s-own autograph .in the place of honour in the book?” •‘‘Which letter was that?” said the Duke.

‘‘Well, the collector’s plan is to write to ev.ery person of eminence, and to accuse his son of bilking his washerwoman. He pastes his own letter, and the reply face to face. I can assure you, he added, some of the replies artmost characteristic arid amusing. ’ What the Duke thought and.said is not recorded. Perhaps just as well. The Duke was a tremendously pro lifie writer, and-at times he was apt to be rather indistinct in his caligraphy. Hence some curious mistakes in famous Despatches of which he wrote, goodness ,only knows how many volumes, mistakes put right in the Despatches as we know them to-day in those vast official libraries, did we moderns have the time to plough through their con tents. But if the Dukc*s hand-writing left much to be desired, some of his correspondents were equally indifferent as to the shape of their letters, 'thus one J. C. Loudon, -who, in addition to being a landscape painter of some renown, was a great botanist, wrote one day to the Duke as follows: “My lord Duke,—lt would gratify me extremely if you would permit me to visit Stratflejdsaye at any time convenient to your Grace'and inspect your Waterloo beeches. ’’ These “beeches,” I may say, had been planted at Wellington’s country seat as a memorial of the great battle. The Duke, always prompt in dealing with his correspondence, at. once replied to the letter, but misreading the word “beeches,” and taking Hie signature J, C. Loudon for “C. J. London,” forwarded the following extraordinary note in answer: —

“Mr dear of London, —It will give me great pleasure to see you at Strathfieldsaye. Pray come there whenever it. suits your convenience, whether I am- at home or not. My servant will receive orders to show you as many pairs of breeches of mine as you wish; but why you should wish to inspect those which I wore at the Battle of Waterloo is quite, beyond the comprehension of Yours, very truly, “WELLINGTON.”

Humour credits the good Bishop of London with having consulted with his Grace the Archbishop of -Canterbury, and with “sundry other discreet persons,” and with the company having come to the melancholy conclusion that the great Duke had gone stark, staring mad. Explanations, of course, followed, and there must have been some, laughter, both at Strathfieldsaye and at Lambeth Palace.