The Letters of the Duke of Wellington to Miss J., 1834-1851

PREFACE

The effort of the Editor throughout this volume has been to repress fancy rather than to exercise it. There has not been a word added to or taken from the letters of the Duke, even the occasional eccentricities of orthography and punctuation having been preserved.

The editing that was absolutely necessary to render coherent some of Miss J.'s lucubrations has been restricted to the excision of superfluous passages of Scripture that added nothing to the sense of the text, and the correction of the very erratic punctuation both of her diary and of the copies she has left of her own letters.

Miss J.'s copies of the Duke's epistles have been verified by comparison with the originals. In every case where the needful books and journals of reference were attainable, the Duke's statements in the letters of his comings and goings and occupations have been corroborated by contemporary data.

The particulars of Miss J.'s personal history have been derived from private family sources.

Brooklyn, March 18, 1889.

CHAPTER I.

INTRODUCTION

These hitherto unpublished Letters from the Duke of Wellington to Miss J., and the Diary of the latter, have lain for years in a trunk in the attic of a country-house within thirty miles of New York city. Their publication is permitted through the kindness of a friend with whose family Miss J. was remotely connected. The facts with regard to Miss J.'s life and character have been in part obtained through those who knew her personally, but mainly through her own Diary,—a worn volume once handsome, that at the first glance would be taken for a Bible. This book is supplied with a spring-lock. Its hundreds of pages are closely covered with a minute handwriting, and the ink with which they were traced has faded to a yellowish brown, indistinct in places, but never quite undecipherable. The Duke's letters are written in a peculiar, irregular hand, very difficult to read, and becoming more crabbed as he advanced in years. While the spelling is almost invariably correct, the construction of the sentences is often involved, and the punctuation follows no known method.

At the time Miss J.'s correspondence with the Duke of Wellington opened, she was a very beautiful woman about twenty years of age. Her parents were from among the smaller English gentry, and in her girlhood she, with her elder sister, attended one of the best schools in England. Many of her companions were of noble birth, and the associations then formed were continued in later years. Miss J.'s father died while she was little more than a child, and not long after the mother followed. At her death the daughter writes that a vision was vouchsafed to her of the heaven her mother was entering.

The elder sister married an American physician and came with him to this country, leaving Miss J. with a companion and in the nominal care of her guardian, who seems to have confined himself to supplying her with the funds accruing from the investments made of the property left by her mother. Miss J. lived now in lodgings, now in a rented house, in company with a devoted elderly friend to whom she constantly alludes in her Diary, and made many visits to the country-houses of former schoolmates. She appears never to have had any taste for general society. A woman of deeply devotional nature, her fervor in spiritual matters had been heightened by associations into which she had been thrown soon after quitting school, and further strengthened by the example and precepts of her bosom companion, Mrs. L. But while the latter evidently possessed strong common-sense and a well-balanced mind, Miss J. was impulsive, enthusiastic, undisciplined. Whatever she did was done with all her might. In her sight there could be no middle course, no half-way measures. By much introspection and pondering of the Scriptures she developed into a religious zealot, fanatically anxious for the conversion of those about her. And this conversion was in her mind nothing less than the turning aside from all worldly pursuits, and the entire dedication of time and self to religious avocations. She shrank with horror from what she called "The World," and interpreted this to mean public offices, wealth, and honors conferred by the State. All these she considered as snares to draw the soul from the contemplation of God and eternity, and bind it down to the things of time and sense.

While little more than a girl, she had had a love-affair with a young man, of whom she writes as "Henry," or "H." Although attached to him, he fell short of her standard in matters spiritual, and she therefore gave him up. She describes with feeling her deep anxiety for his salvation, the prayers she offered for him, and her trembling hope that he might become converted and they might yet be happy together. As the young man still clung to "The World," she nerved herself to break the bond between them and to crush down her affection for him. For a while she seemed to succeed; but the victory over herself was not complete. In her Diary she writes:—

"A few days ago, while Mary was at the harp, in a moment a feeling of tenderness seemed to return towards H.; but I could not certainly say it was so until two days after, when Mary returned from her visit and alluded to him, adding she had looked at Selby and prayed it may become an abode of righteousness, or words to this effect,—when I was at once overcome, and burst into tears. This, indeed, verified my suspicion; and what could I say to such things but this: 'Thy will, O God, be done!'"

Resolved that she would not let her mind dwell upon one who had "never known a new birth unto righteousness," she devoted herself to good works, to instructing the school-children in the village, visiting the poor and afflicted, teaching two gypsy boys, in whom she was much interested, to read and to pray, writing letters on religious topics to her friends, and adapting hymns for the harp. She was an earnest student of the Bible, and held firm faith in the doctrine that even the most trivial events in one's life are directed by an overruling Providence. She carried this belief so far that when in doubt as to what to do in any matter, she would open her Bible at random, read the first text that caught her eye, and shape her course by the direction she found there.

That her friends deprecated such fanaticism—for it really amounted to that—in so young and beautiful a girl, is apparent from passages in her Diary, where she states, with evident enjoyment, that she had undergone "persecution for righteousness' sake," and laments that certain friends should so evidently be "laboring under the power of Satan."

During the month of June, 1833, while staying with a friend, of whom she speaks as "Mary," in the village of S., intelligence was brought to Miss J. of a hardened criminal who was confined in the county jail. He had been convicted of murder, and was to be executed shortly. Both Catholic and Protestant clergymen had been with him, and had endeavored in vain to make some impression upon him by prayers and exhortation. Here was Miss J.'s opportunity. She and her friend Mary went to the prisoner, and by their ministrations produced such an effect that he made full confession of his guilt and professed repentance and conversion. In her Diary Miss J. tells how she dreaded her first expedition to the jail, the prayers she uttered for strength, and the direct answers she received. Of a later visit to "poor Cook" she writes:

"Oh, what a glorious change was there! The stony heart become a heart of flesh! Great God, thy mercies are indeed infinite, and thy ways past finding out!" A few days later she says: "Went again to S.; found poor Cook rapidly ripening for that eternal kingdom into which through his Saviour's righteousness he will soon be gloriously received."

The two girls kept up their visits, in face of a command to discontinue them from Mary's parents.

"Mary received such an angry letter, prohibiting her visiting poor Cook,—to whom, notwithstanding, we of course went, saw him, and the next day were at chapel with him (being Sunday); after which he said he would like then to fall asleep in the Lord, etc. On Monday evening we had singing and prayers with him. On Tuesday saw his chains taken off, and remained with him until he left the prison. On Wednesday were at court, and left S., feeling our work was done,—grateful, I trust, for such manifold mercies, and more anxious than ever to glorify our heavenly Lord. Today, the 10th, poor Cook suffered; and I can now fancy him a glorious spirit, hovering near, ministering to those that are to be heirs of salvation."

The result of Miss J.'s success with this unfortunate man naturally strengthened her in her devotion to a religious life; and the effect was deepened by the commendations of her pious friends. It was not so common then as now to make pets of condemned criminals; and the success of this young girl in subduing a man with whom priests and parsons had hopelessly labored, created a sensation and called forth comment from the press. It would have been almost phenomenal had the girl's head not been turned. Her devotion to the advancement of the cause of Christ as she understood it, was strong and genuine. Surrounded by judicious advisers, she might have manifested her zeal in a different fashion. As it was, she now felt she had been especially called of God to do a great work. Looking around her for an object, her attention was drawn to the Duke of Wellington. She seemed to have known more of him as the public man than as the soldier; for she expressly states at a later period that when she first wrote to him she was not aware that he was the conqueror of Bonaparte, and did not even know when the Battle of Waterloo took place,—a statement that leads to the inference that instruction in the fashionable schools of that day dealt more with playing on the harp and similar showy accomplishments than with a knowledge of English history.

Miss J. leaves in her Diary a list of the letters received from the Duke, prefacing them with the following introduction:—

"Seeing that I have adverted in the former part of this book to the feelings experienced on our return from poor Cook, which induced me to look up to the Lord, enquiring what next HE would have me to do, receiving this precious reply, 'Greater things than these, that they may marvel;' and considering such words must have had a reference to his condescending dealings a few months afterwards in influencing me to write to the Duke upon the necessity of a new birth unto righteousness,—I am solicitous to devote a portion of this book to his letters, remarking thereon as the list thereof proceeds: May the Lord be with me, inclining my heart and pen to perform all his good will and pleasure, be that whatever it may, for his holy name' sake. Amen."

The Duke of Wellington was at this time (1834) a man sixty-five years old. He was in the prime of strength and health, with a capacity for work which the roughing and the hard service he had undergone in earlier life had not in the least impaired. In spite of the passing unpopularity due to his opposition to the Reform Bill, that led to his being publicly hooted in 1832, he had had many high offices bestowed upon him. He had now been a widower for three years.

CHAPTER II.

FIRST INTERVIEWS

Miss J.'s first letter to the duke was written on the 15th of January, 1834, from Devonshire, where she was spending several months. She was greatly encouraged by receiving an answer from the duke by return post. This letter is unfortunately missing, nor does Miss J. give extracts from it, as from many others, but she indulges in a few comments upon it.

"It was," she says, "dated from Hartford Bridge, Jan. 18, 1833, instead of 1834,—a remarkable circumstance for one so accurate in such particulars. It had also a mistake in one place and a blot in two,—betraying consequently, I should imagine, feelings which overwhelmed him on the receipt of my Epistle; and since it is not at all unlikely that the same Lord who worked in me to write may ('His eyes being in every place') have allowed him to participate in the same in some way known only to Himself, in order to effect His purposes."

Stimulated by this reception of her first venture, Miss J. proceeded further, and on the 24th of April carried a Bible to the town-house of the Duke, and with her own hand gave it into the charge of the servant. She writes a minute account of this occurrence:—

"After earnest prayer the Bible was taken by me, with a fluttering, agitated feeling, to the Duke's gates and delivered into the porter's hands, after asking him if the Duke were at home. He replied, 'Yes, ma'am.' I then asked, 'Is he engaged?' He told me Lord—I forget his name—and Sir Thomas Somebody were with him. I then inquired, 'Who delivers parcels into His Grace's hands?' He respectfully said, 'I do, ma'am.' I rejoined, 'Then you will deliver that,'—returning home, marvelling wherefore such things were permitted, and what the end thereof would be. Of course a suitable note accompanied The Bible."

The Duke was not as prompt in acknowledging "The Bible" as he had been in replying to the first note, for he did not write until the 27th of August. Even then the letter was delayed by a mistake he made in the address, directing the envelope to Mrs., instead of Miss J. She says, "I presume he was in doubt on the subject whether I was a married or single lady, as my signature could not decide on that point." In this note the Duke asks if he may not have the pleasure of meeting her; and Miss J., acting under the advice of her friend Mrs. L., grants his request and expresses her own desire to know him,—"considering it may be The Lord's will to permit personal interviews, proposing under such circumstances to use my influence with him; accordingly craving the Divine blessing thereon."

From the Duke's reply, which follows, it is evident that she had corrected his uncertainty as to whether she was married or single:

The Duke of Wellington presents his compliments to Miss J. The Duke has received her Letter in which she expresses a desire to see the Duke and that he should call upon her.

The Duke has certainly received one, if not more, letters from Miss J., all written upon the same important subject and with the same beneficent object in view, although the desire to see the Duke was not expressed in them; and the Duke lately acknowledged the receipt of one, and of the book, etc., accompanying it.

Although the Duke is not in the habit of visiting young unmarried ladies with whom he is not acquainted, he will not decline to attend Miss J. He is at present at a distance from London, and he will be detained at Walmer Castle by business in this part of the county for more than a fortnight.

Miss J. will probably write to the Duke again, and will let him know whether she will be in London in a fortnight or three weeks from this time.

This was followed by a note, dated November 8, renewing the expressions of the Duke's desire to meet one who took such an interest in his welfare, and informing Miss J. of his intention to call upon her the twelfth of the month. She was then with her friend Mrs. L. in lodgings in London, and here the Duke presented himself.

The interview was most curious, and is fully described in Miss J.'s Diary. It seems to furnish the key to this correspondence, that lasted over seventeen years. Even the pietistic phrases with which Miss J.'s account is thickly interspersed are of value as demonstrating the woman's real character, and making plain how completely all that concerned her was subordinated to her conception of what constituted the glory of God. The full statement was not written immediately after the Duke's visit, although the main facts were noted in her Diary. The following narrative was committed to paper some years after the occurrence it reports. Her motive in giving particulars is, as she herself states, to protect herself, lest at her death some question might arise as to the precise relations that had existed between the Duke and herself.

She writes:—

"I was about to enter further into a copy of the list of the Duke's letters, in the book with the lock and key, without comment on the past; but I am not permitted to do so, considering the Lord is too jealous for his holy name to suffer me to be exposed to censure which a full knowledge of circumstances would explain and prevent. Consequently, however reluctant (recoiling from the task as I do) to enter into such, the honor due to the holy name so justly declared to be above every name demands the effort; and may HE, as I have upon my knees especially implored him, be with my pen accordingly, influencing it to write only what is agreeable to his unerring will, and likely to obtain the end in view above alluded to, for his holy name's sake! Since he must have influenced the Duke of Wellington to love me above every other lady upon earth from the first moment he beheld me, I am not afraid, as in his sight, to imply such feelings were permitted to exist towards one, through the workings of his power, for the accomplishment of his own ends, be they whatever they may,—which ends, however varying from those I had naturally anticipated, will, I trust, redound far more to His Glory than my anticipations, if realized, could possibly have done.

"I say naturally anticipated! And who can presume to think such were not justifiable when the individual thus brought into my presence by 'the Lord of Lords' for the purpose of receiving instruction from his holy word, never spoke, all power of speech seeming to be withdrawn, until he was compelled to exclaim: 'Oh, how I love you! how I love you!' repeating the same over and over and over again with increasing energy.

"I will proceed to describe this visit, which took place through a declaration on his part in a former letter that the desire to see me sprang from the consideration evinced by me concerning his everlasting welfare. This induced me to receive him accordingly, praying to God to be with me every moment of the time, directing even my dress. This He did, letting me be dressed on the occasion as HE pleased, which, as my Diary relates, was in my old turned dark green merino gown, daily worn,—not permitting me to be decorated in any way likely to attract notice, which, as the employment in view was of so sacred a nature, was neither required nor obtained.

"Having committed myself on my knees into his gracious hand, 'whose I am and whom I serve,' to do with me whatever seemed agreeable to His unerring will, I descended the stairs after the Duke was announced, with these words from dear Mrs. L. following me: 'Now if the Lord should send his arrow into his soul!' (She had fancied from the commencement that God intended to exalt me for the purpose of showing forth his praise, so that this impression must necessarily have been powerfully strengthened by what followed.)

"I entered the Parlour, where, standing before the fire, I beheld anything but the kind of individual personally imagined. I had not had the slightest idea that the Duke has such a beautiful, silver head, such as I always from my childhood admired, inducing me as I approached to offer my hand with additional pleasure, saying, 'This is very kind of Your Grace!' He received my hand graciously and respectfully,—but spoke not a word. I then requested him to be seated, two chairs having been placed for that purpose each side of the fire,—and occupied one of them myself; when recollecting the purport of his visit, I immediately rose, saying, 'I will show you my Treasure!' He also rose, standing until I re-seated myself with this large beautiful Bible in my arms. I placed it upon the table between us, opening it at the Third Chapter of Saint John's Gospel, announcing the same. On arriving at the seventh verse thereof, containing this momentous passage, flowing from the divine lips of him who spoke as never man spake, 'Ye must be born again,' I, as is usual with me, raised my hand, pointing my finger emphatically, with the solemnity so important an occasion demanded, being desirous to impress the same on his mind, when to my astonishment he eagerly seized my hand, exclaiming, as before described: 'Oh, how I love you!' This was his first utterance!…

"Should any one consider strange the expression of agonizing applied to the Duke's feelings at the time he seized my hand, and exclaimed as written, I can only say that such an expression seems hardly doing justice thereto in my estimation. Nor can I find any language adequate to display the same, for God appeared to have struck the Duke dumb on beholding me, giving him no power of speech until he betrayed the effect such had on him. He seemed determined from first to last to overcome or conceal these feelings; yet on one occasion, with great solemnity of voice and manner, on my questioning him concerning who caused him to feel thus towards me, he replied,

One hesitates how to comment upon this singular interview. As has been said, the Duke was at the time of its occurrence sixty-five years old, a father and a grandfather. Under no circumstances was he a man likely to fall in love at first sight, even with so beautiful and interesting a woman as Miss J. Yet the length of time that the correspondence endured, as well as the tone he generally observed of interest in her plans, of solicitude for her health, and the readiness with which he renewed his letters when some misunderstanding had for a while interrupted them, all go to prove that he must have had a feeling for her of more than common interest. Miss J. does not demur at avowing her affection for him again and again. In later years, when there had been a decided break between them, she writes of him constantly as "my still-loved, precious Duke."

That the Duke did not have a general reputation for softness of heart, even among those who knew him well, may be gathered from Greville's comments. He styles the Duke:—

"A man of great energy, decision, and authority. The Duke is a very hard man; he takes no notice of any of his family, he never sees his mother, has only visited her two or three times in the last few years, and has not now been to see Lady Anne, though she has been in such affliction for the death of her only son, and he passes her door every time he goes to Strathfieldsaye.... He is a very extraordinary man certainly, and with many contradictions in his character.... He will not endure any one who will not be subservient to him."

Several passages in the Duke's letters to Miss J. written when there had been deaths among his friends or in his family, lead one to modify the estimate made of him by Greville, who was always too apt to let his personal prejudices color his statements. M'Carthy declares that while the Duke was cold and brusque in manner, his affections were warm and enduring. This softer side of his nature was evidently that shown to Miss J. The oddest part of the affair was that he should have betrayed it on such short acquaintance.

On parting from Miss J. the Duke told her he should be absent from town for several days, but would call upon her on his return. At his request she promised to write to him. This she afterwards found "the Lord of Lords" would not permit.

"I attempted to fulfil my promise repeatedly; but felt so restrained that I was obliged at length to relinquish all thought of doing so, considering such was not the will of God."

A letter from the Duke dated December 5 inquires the reason of this silence, and proposes calling again. To this Miss J. sent no answer; but in spite of her silence she received another note, dated London, December 22, announcing the Duke's return, and informing her that he would wait upon her the next day at three o'clock. The following account of this call is from Miss J.'s Diary:—

"During the next visit from the Duke he exclaimed, speaking of his feeling for me, 'This must be for life!' twice over successively. He then asked me if I felt sufficient for him to be with him a whole life, to which I replied: 'If it be the will of God.' I observed much excitement about him, and he in a very hurried manner told me that he was going on a visit to the King. This led me to reply, 'I wish you were going on a visit to The King,' which he evidently interpreted to mean The King of kings. He left me hastily, saying he purposed returning in a short time. In the interim I locked my door and knelt down, beseeching God to be with me and protect me, showing me what he would have me do under such marvellous circumstances. Forgetting that the door was fastened, I was obliged on the Duke's return to explain wherefore, stating that it is written, 'When thou hast shut thy door, pray to thy Father which is in secret, and thy Father which seeth in secret shall reward thee openly;' adding, 'Therefore I locked the door when you were gone, Your Grace, to kneel down and ask God to take care of me.' On hearing this his eyes dropped, but he said nothing. On his asking me why I had not written to him during his absence from town, I replied, 'Because God would not let me;' when his eyes again fell, and he was silent."