The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1896-10-09
STORIES ABOUT WELLINGTON.
He Hated Personal servicc-HOw lie
Admitted Piece of Injustice.

Admitted Piece of Injustice.
From the New York Tribune.
In paper on Assye and Wellington, a
contributor 10 The CornhiH tells these
stories about the Iron Duke
During the last few weeks Of the life of
the second Duke Of wellington up to with
in a few days of his very sudden death, I.
happening to be living in the neighborhood
Of Strathfeldsaye, spent almost every day
and many hours in long talks, chiefly in
| the grounds Of the park, with the duke.
He, knowing that the one subject on
! which / wanted to get him to talk was
! his father, most kindly INDUCED me by
! devcting his conversation TO him. / think
l may say that 1t was a relief to him to
DO so. For the fact was that he was
purdened by sense Of responsibility. He
was full Of stories and anecdotes Of the
great man whose heir he was He had
! been continually pressed by many, by
| Lord Wellesley, and by me perhaps more
| tndn by any one else, to give to the world
all that he could tell of his father. He
could neither altogether make up his mind
TO go to his grave burying all record OF
the past nor yet, as he appealed to me
again and again to agree with him, could
| he feel that the stories of domestic life
which he had to tell were altogether such
as a son would willingly give to the world
| OF a great father. In fact he felt, think,
| that some day or other they ought to be
known, but he wanted to leave to some
| one else the responsibility of telling them
In reality do not think that they much
alter one's impression Of the man; but
! perhaps the fact that DR.. Gleig went to
! his grave knowing all such stories well,
and never gave them forth, and that 1t Is
twelve years since first heard them, and
| that, though often pressed to do so, have
Il IA .l,
! tirely left to me in regard to them, will
indicate that they have seemed to many
| out of tune with the sort of conception OF
| the man which one knows to be popular,
| and half-hesitates to disturb, lest in dis
! persing the cloudy vision one should blur
the true grandeur of the face. In fact,
they are all stories of a strong, hard man,
harder on himself than on any one else,
and, being chiefly of his later life, apply
! to a time when these characteristics had
| become set and rigid. Here, at all events,
are few specimens for good or evil.
During his campaigns the duke had ac-
| quired peculiar habit in regard to sleep.
| No noise, not the discharge of the loud
| est cannonade or an explosion, would
wake him. but the most delicate toucn,
| even on his clothes, reused him Instantly.
| When reused, there was no moment OF
| semi-Somnolenee, or eye-Tubbing, or blur
| red consciousness as to where ne was or
what had happened. Out of the deadest
! sleep he was instantly in possession of all
his faculties. Now, whether it was de-
termination not to yield to advancing
! years, or merely the habit of a lifetime.
it would be difficult to say; but during all
the time when he was living as country
! gentleman at Strathfieldsaye, there was
nothing that he resented so much as the
attempt of any one in his household or out
of it to do him any personal service. Num-
bers of the anecdotes turn on this pc
culiarity.
He had made for him a specially con-
structed tandem. 1t had two seats at the
back, and was completely covered in, the
| front being of glass. The reins passed
under the glass casing in front. In this
| way the duke himself drove two very fine
horses. One day his second son, LORD
| Charles Wellesley, was sitting with him
| in this carriage, The duke as in later
life he often on various occasions did
fell fast asleep, still holding the reins
The spirited horses soon felt the loss OF
control. Before long Lord Charles, an
Xiously watching the situation, saw that
in another moment the leader would dash
up steep bank, and that his fathers lifa
and his own would be in imminent danger
The risk was too great to run; though lie
| knew his father too well not to be aware
that any interference with him as the
driver of the horses would be bitterly re-
scented. AS quietly as he could do so, he
slipped his hand over the rein, drew down
the leader from the bank, endeavoring not
to wake his father in doing so. 1t was
useless, however. Light as his touch had
been, the great duke was instantly awake
and fully alive to all that had happened.
What are you doing, Charles?"
81 only turned off the leader, sir from
the bank He was just running UP it
and we should have been upset"
Mind your own business, Charles
mind your own business!" was all tbs
thanks he ever received.
The same son, Lord Charles, had beer
on leave in either Spain or Italy. He haC
met with a series of accidents on his re-
turn journey, had been in very serious
danger and, though he had made the ut
most effort to do so, had failed to ge
back in time. His father asked for nj
explanation and would hear none. He
treated him as a convicted culprit refused
to have any intercourse with him, and IL
various ways made him feel his displeas
ure. One day a visitor to StrathfieldsayC
drew out from Lord Charles an account
of his journey. The duke listened, anc
when the story came to an end he went
up to his son:
so, Charles, you met with an ACCIDENT
YES father"
And you did all you could to be bach
in time?"
Eyes, father"
'Well. I'll give you horse, Charles; II
! give you a horse"
1t was the only form in which he ad
mitted the injustice of which he was
clearly conscious.