Catholics as long as possible; he opposed the abolition of the corn laws; he "felt proud of such a sovereign as George IV.;" he opposed reform in Parliament; he predicted the downfall of the constitution as the consequence of the passage of the Reform Bill; he opposed free-trade; West India property was not to be sacrificed to the fancies of abolitionists; he denied the Jews' right to citizenship or to civil equality. Yet on some questions he was almost unexpectedly liberal—he declared against the game-laws, and supported penny postage. The thirty-three bulky volumes of his published Despatches, written in terse and nervous English, attest the methodical, concentrative power of his mind. A volume might be filled with his aphorisms. His curt answers to letters were peculiarly characteristic of his business-like and unimaginative disposition. Although to the last his mind was as bright and keen as ever, his constitution had been somewhat undermined by repeated attacks of catalepsy from 1837. He died somewhat suddenly at Walmer Castle, early on the 14th of September, 1852, aged 83, and his remains were accorded a public funeral in St. Paul's. Seventy titles were proclaimed over his grave, and eight field-marshal batons, conferred by as many countries, were broken. A magnificent monument, only now (1878) completed, marks his resting-place. Wellington was five feet nine inches high when in his prime. His shoulders were broad, his chest well developed, his arms long, and his hands and feet in excellent proportion. His eyes were of a dark violet-blue or grey, and his sight was so penetrating that even to the last he could distinguish objects at an immense distance. A forehead not very high, but broad and square, eyebrows straight and prominent, a long face, a Roman nose, a broad under-jaw, with a chin strongly marked, gave him somewhat a resemblance to more than one hero of antiquity, especially to Julius Caesar. His hair, originally coal black, became as white as silver before he died; but to the last there was no sign of baldness. He was scrupulously neat in his costume, latterly spending two hours and a half in dressing. In battle he wore a short white cloak, so that he could be recognised afar by his officers. The Duke was but an indifferent judge of horse-flesh, and he became so attached to the animals he rode that he could not bear to part with them when worn out; consequently he was somewhat noted for the disreputable appearance of his horses. Bulwer's sketch of his appearance on Rotten Row will give some idea of the estimation in which he was held by the English people during his lifetime:
"Next, with loose rein and careless canter, view
Our man of men—the Prince of Waterloo;
O'er the firm brow the hat as firmly pressed,
The firm shape rigid in the button'd vest;
Within—the iron which the fire has proved,
And the close Sparta of a mind unmoved!
Not his the wealth to some large natures lent,
Divinely lavish, even where mis-spent,
That liberal sunshine of exuberant soul.
Thought, sense, affection, warming up the whole;
The heat and affluence of a genial power,
Rank in the weed, as vivid in the flower;
Hush'd at command his veriest passions halt,
Drill'd is each virtue, disciplined each fault;
Warm if his blood—he reasons while he glows.
Admits the pleasure— ne'er the folly knows;
If Vulcan for our Mars a snare had set,
He had won the Venus, but escaped the net;
His eye ne'er wrong, if circumscribed the sight,
Widen the prospect, and it ne'er is right,
Seen through the telescope of habit still.
States seem a camp, and all the world— a drill!
Yet oh! how few his faults, how pure his mind.
Beside his fellow-conquerors of mankind;
How knightly seems the iron image, shown
By Marlborough's tomb, or lost Napoleon's throne!
Cold it his lips, no smile of fraud they wear.
Stern if his heart, still 'man' is graven there;
No guile—no crime, his step to greatness made,
No freedom trampled, and no trust betrayed;
The eternal 'I' was not his law—he rose
Without one art that honour might oppose.
And leaves a human, if a hero's name.
To curb ambition while it lights to fame."
The Duke of Wellington, then Sir Arthur Wellesley, married, 10th April 1806, Lady Catherine Pakenham, daughter of Lord Longford, descended from a family settled in Ireland since 1576. She died in April 1831. They had two children—Arthur Richard, the present Duke, who has had no issue; and Charles, a major-general in the army, who died in October, 1858, five of whose children survive. 34 51 54 124 281 343 343* 344
Wentworth, Thomas, Viscount Wentworth, Earl of Strafford, was born in Chancery-lane, London, 13th April 1593. He was the eldest son of a wealthy Yorkshire baronet and landowner, whom he succeeded in 1614. In that year and 1621 he was elected to Parliament for Yorkshire. Early in the reign of Charles I. he took part in the opposition to his arbitrary measures, but in 1628 went over to the side of the King, and continued his most devoted adherent during the remainder of his life. He was created a Baron, 26th July 1628, Lord-President of the North in September, and Viscount Wentworth in December of the same year; a Privy-Councillor in 1629, and Lord-Deputy of Ireland in January, 1631-'2. He did not arrive in Dublin until July 1633, when he took up his residence at the Castle, with his family, and began to order the affairs of the country with vigour. His commercial policy is thus indicated in a letter to the Lord-Treasurer, written six months after his arrival: "I am of opinion that
558
