The Iron Duke – An Irishman’s Diary on the Duke of Wellington

The Duke of Wellington  was born 250 years ago on May 1st. Painting: Thomas Lawrence
The Duke of Wellington was born 250 years ago on May 1st. Painting: Thomas Lawrence

He began life as a shy, somewhat lazy boy from an impoverished Anglo-Irish noble family. He ended his life as the “Iron Duke”, the man who had defeated Napoleon, had been prime minister of Britain and at whose death Queen Victoria wept and called him the greatest man of the 19th century. Arthur Wellesley, the Duke of Wellington, was born 250 years ago on May 1st.

Born Arthur Wesley (an older brother later changed the family name), the third son of the Earl of Mornington of Dangan Castle, Trim, Co Meath, he reputedly – but apocryphally – denied his Irishness by remarking that not everyone born in a stable was a horse.

But he was very much a child of 18th-century Ireland, deeply marked by the time and place of his birth. He was something of a lonely outsider throughout his long life, which could well be the result of growing up as a member of a besieged Protestant minority in a Catholic country.

His father had been professor of music in Trinity College Dublin before a decline in his finances caused the family to move to London, and music was Arthur Wesley’s first love. He did not do well at school or university, and a further dip in the family fortunes led to his being withdrawn from college and sent into the army at 16. “I vow to God I don’t know what I shall do with my awkward son Arthur. He is food for powder and nothing more,” his mother declared.

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In the early 1790s, he sat in the Irish House of Commons for the family borough of Trim and worked as a government lackey. He sought the hand of Kitty Pakenham, daughter of the Earl of Longford, in marriage but was turned down by the family because he was too poor. This rejection was a turning-point in his life because he now committed himself wholeheartedly to advancement in the army.

His first taste of action was against the armies of revolutionary France in Holland. The campaign turned out to be a disaster and he was very unimpressed by the officers at headquarters who were supposed to be running the operation.

Promoted to the rank of colonel, he next saw action in India. He came into a position of command there when one of his senior officers was killed in a duel. The English were gradually extending their control over more and more of the subcontinent and in the wars that resulted, Wellesley showed the careful logistic preparation that was to become his distinguishing feature. He also had a firm belief in discipline – soldiers who misbehaved were flogged and some were hanged. He was promoted to major-general in India. In the Battle of Assaye in 1803 he subdued the Marathas, then the dominant people of India. He left there in 1805, a wealthy man who had learned much militarily.

Back home he sought command in the coalition of armies fighting Napoleon, not because he needed the money but because he was appalled by the prospect of idleness. Sidelined and bored for a while, he renewed his pursuit of Kitty Pakenham, this time with success.

The pursuit was carried out by means of letters rather than face to face. In fact the happy couple didn’t meet until their wedding day and he wasn’t impressed by his first sight of his bride in 10 years. “She has grown ugly, by Jove!” he muttered to a confidant.

The marriage was a mistake; he had purged the Pakenham family’s rejection of him, which had rankled, but took no time to get to know his new wife, assuming she’d understand his own fierce commitment to duty. The relationship was a distant one; he managed to create in headquarters the happy family life that eluded him at home.

In 1808 he was back at his favourite occupation – warfare – this time fighting the French in Spain and Portugal. To mark one of his victories there he was made Viscount Wellington of Talavera and Wellington, the latter being a town in Somerset not far from Wellesley. Following a further three years of bloody fighting in Spain, he was raised from viscount to earl to marquis and parliament voted him £100,000 for his services in the Iberian Peninsula.

At times incompetent officers were foisted on him. On looking through a list of senior officers being sent out to him, he jested darkly that he didn’t know what effect their names would have on the enemy but they certainly frightened him.

After his success in driving the French out of Spain and with Napoleon’s abdication, he was made a duke and appointed ambassador to Paris. He was in Vienna at a peace conference when he learned that Napoleon had escaped from Elba. Appointed commander-in-chief of British and Dutch forces in Holland, without his Prussian allies he would not have won Waterloo, which was his first direct confrontation with Napoleon. He was himself lucky to survive the battle and exclaimed at the end: “The hand of almighty God has been upon me this day.” He was glad to embark on a political career after Waterloo, saying that he had fought his last battle.

In 1827 he became prime minister. He persuaded a most reluctant king (and even fought a duel with a peer) to get Catholic emancipation passed, which was probably the high-point of his political career. His adamant opposition to reform of parliament clearly was not and caused his resignation in 1830. But in 1832 he played a leading if reluctant role in breaking down Tory opposition to the reform Bill.

He was determined to maintain British political supremacy over Ireland at all costs. “Show me an Irishman and I’ll show you a man whose anxious wish is to see his country independent of Great Britain,” he declared.