Historical Characters

It was clear, then, that if the successor to Lord Liverpool shared Lord Liverpool’s opinions on Catholic Emancipation, but did not share Lord Liverpool’s other opinions, and was more or less adverse to Mr. Canning instead of being particularly attached to him, this would make a great change as to Mr. Canning’s position in the Administration, and a great change as to the general character of the Administration itself. Mr. Canning, therefore, could not submit to such a change without damaging his policy and damaging himself. He was to be Cæsar or nobody; the man to lead a party, not the hack of any party that offered him the emoluments of place, without the reality of power.

IV

But if Mr. Canning was determined to be Head of the Government, or not to belong to it at all, his rivals were equally determined not to belong to a government of which he was to be the head.

In this dilemma George IV. fixed his eyes on the Duke of Wellington. Few at that period considered the duke fit for the management of civil affairs; but George IV. had great confidence in his general abilities, and thought that with his assistance it might be possible to conciliate a minister whom he was disposed to disappoint, and did not wish to displease. But the Duke of Wellington was the very last man under whom it was Mr. Canning’s interest to place himself. That he refused to do so is therefore no matter of surprise; his refusal, however, was skilfully framed, and in such terms as were most likely to catch the ear of the nation, “he could never consent to a military Premier.” In the meantime, the struggle that had been going on in the Cabinet and the Court was pretty generally known in the country, and such steps were taken by the two conflicting parties as were most accordant with their several principles and desires. The Duke of Newcastle, on the one hand, claimed the privilege of a Royal audience, and spoke in no measured terms of the parliamentary influence he possessed, and the course he should pursue if Mr. Canning attained his wishes. Mr. Brougham, on the other hand, wrote to Mr. Canning, offering him his unqualified support, and saying that this offer was unconnected with any desire for office, which, indeed, nothing would then tempt him to accept.

V

A serious contest thus commenced. The different epochs through which this contest was conducted may thus be given. On the 28th of March, the King first spoke to Mr. Canning in a direct and positive manner as to filling up Lord Liverpool’s vacancy. Between the 31st of March and the 6th of April affairs remained in suspense. On the 3rd and 4th Mr. Canning and the Duke of Wellington met; and on the 5th, by the desire of the latter, Mr. Canning saw Mr. Peel; the result of these three different interviews being a persuasion on the part of Mr. Canning that it was hoped he would himself suggest that the Premiership should be offered to the Duke of Wellington. On the 9th Mr. Peel again saw Mr. Canning, by the King’s desire, and openly stated that “the Duke of Wellington’s appointment would solve all difficulties.” On the 10th Mr. Canning, not having assented to this suggestion, was empowered to form the new Administration.

The events which followed are well known. On receiving the King’s commands, Mr. Canning immediately requested the services of all his former colleagues, to some of whom his application could only have been a mere matter of form. For this reason the surprise affected at many of the answers received appears to me ridiculous. Mr. Canning and his friends would have retired, if the Duke of Wellington had been made Premier; and the Duke of Wellington and his friends retired when Mr. Canning was made Premier.

Nothing was more simple than the tender of those resignations which were received with such artificial astonishment; and nothing more absurd than the cant accusations which were made against those who tendered them of abandoning the King, &c. &c. Nor was the refutation of such accusations less idle than their propagation. It might not be true that the seceding Ministers met in a room, and said, “We will conspire, and you shall send in your resignation, and I will send in mine.” But it is quite clear that they had common motives of action, that each understood what those motives were, that as a body they had long acted in unison, that as a body they intended to continue so to act. In every representative government men constantly band in this manner together, often denying uselessly that they do so; and we have only to refer to a memorable instance of Whig secession, in 1717, in order to find the same accusation as foolishly raised, and the same denial as falsely given.124

But although the resignation of the Duke of Wellington and his friends was almost certain, when the nature of the new arrangement became fully known, the mere fact of Mr. Canning having been commissioned to form a government was not at once taken as the proof that he would possess the power and dignity of Prime Minister.

The Duke of Wellington more particularly seemed determined to consider that nothing as to a Premier was yet decided, and replied to Mr. Canning’s announcement that he was charged to form an Administration, by saying:

“I should wish to know who the person is whom you intend to propose to his Majesty as the head of the Government.”

To this question Mr. Canning replied at once:

“Foreign Office, April 11, 1827.

“My dear Duke of Wellington,

“I believed it to be so generally understood that the King usually entrusts the formation of an Administration to the individual whom it is his Majesty’s gracious pleasure to place at the head of it, that it did not occur to me, when I communicated to your Grace yesterday the commands which I had just received from his Majesty, to add that in the present instance his Majesty does not intend to depart from the usual course of proceeding on such occasions. I am sorry to have delayed some hours the answer to your Grace’s letter; but from the nature of the subject, I did not like to forward it, without having previously submitted it (together with your Grace’s letter) to his Majesty.

“Ever, my dear Duke of Wellington, your Grace’s sincere and faithful servant,

(Signed)“George Canning.”

The Duke of Wellington’s retirement from office and from the command of the army immediately followed, and now the whole anti-Catholic party definitely seceded.

VI

At a cooler moment such an event might have seriously startled George IV., but the pride of the Sovereign overcame the fears and doubts of the politician. “He had not altered his policy; he had merely chosen from amongst his Ministers, a vacancy occurring in the Premiership, a particular individual to be Prime Minister. It was his clear right to select the Prime Minister. Who was to have this nomination? The Duke of Newcastle forsooth!” Thus spoke those of his circle whom Mr. Canning had had the address to gain.

Nor did he himself shrink from his new situation. His appointment was announced on the very night it took place, and another writ issued for the borough of Harwich, amidst cheers that rang through the House of Commons. Thus he became at once the Minister of the people of England. They anxiously asked themselves whether he could maintain himself in this position?

A circumstance occurred which went far towards settling opinions on this subject. Almost immediately after the official retreat of the anti-Catholic party, Lord Melville, First Lord of the Admiralty, though in favour of the Catholic claims, sent in his resignation, assigning what in the reign of James I. would have been called a good Scotch reason for doing so, namely, he did not think the Government could last.

The manner of filling up the situation thus vacated might also have satisfied Lord Melville’s scruples. On the 12th his lordship resigned; on the 18th Mr. Canning informed him that the Duke of Clarence, heir-presumptive to the crown, had accepted the office of Lord High Admiral, and would receive Sir George Cockburn and the other Lords of the Admiralty at twelve on the following day. This selection, suggested, it was said, by Mr. Croker, was a decisive blow, and announced the Royal feelings, as far as Mr. Canning was concerned, for two reigns at least. There was still, however, the highest office in the gift of a Minister to fill, that of Lord Chancellor. A supporter of the Catholic claims could hardly at that moment be selected to fill it. Amongst the opponents of those claims there was an eminent lawyer in Parliament, who, if placed on the Woolsack, would become a most valuable ally in the Lords, instead of being a most formidable antagonist in the Commons. Sir John Copley, whose recent altercation with the new Premier on the Catholic question was not forgotten, was the eminent lawyer alluded to; and hardly was it known that the Duke of Clarence was Lord High Admiral, when it was likewise officially promulgated that Sir John Copley, under the title of Lord Lyndhurst, had accepted the Great Seal. The other appointments immediately made known were those of Mr. Sturges Bourne (a friend of Mr. Canning) as Minister for Home Affairs; of Lord Dudley, a Tory who often voted with Whigs, as Minister of Foreign Affairs; of Mr. William Lamb (after Lord Melbourne), a Whig who often voted with the Tories, as Secretary for Ireland; and of Mr. Scarlett, a Whig, as Attorney-General. The Duke of Portland had accepted the Privy Seal, the Duke of Devonshire the highest court office, Mr. Robinson, resigning the Chancellorship of the Exchequer to Mr. Canning, became Lord Goderich, and Leader in the House of Lords. Lord Palmerston acquired a seat in the Cabinet. Lord Harrowby, Mr. Wynn, and Mr. Huskisson retained their former offices.

A private arrangement was also made for admitting into the Cabinet, at the end of the session, Lord Lansdowne (who was to take the place of Mr. Sturges Bourne), as well as Lord Carlisle and Mr. Tierney.

VII

In this way commenced that new period in our history, which finally led to the forming of a large Liberal party, capable of conducting the affairs of the country, and to a series of divisions in that Tory party which had so long governed it. I have said that this party was already divided before the death of Lord Castlereagh; for it then contained some influential, well-educated men of Whig opinions, though of Tory alliances, who, whilst opposed to democratic innovations, were dissatisfied with the unpopular resistance to all changes, which was the peculiar characteristic of the Lord Chancellor.

Mr. Canning’s junction with this section of politicians brought to it a great additional force.

Nor was this all. His brilliant genius rallied round him all those in Parliament and the country who had enlightened ideas and generous feelings, and were desirous to see England at the head of civilization, and, whether in her conduct towards foreign nations or at home, exhibiting an interest in the well-being and improvement of mankind. Mr. Canning’s feelings on this subject were in no wise disguised by his language.

“Is it not,” said he on one occasion, when defending Mr. Huskisson’s Free Trade policy – “is it not the same doctrine and spirit now persecuting my right honourable friend which in former times stirred up persecution against the best benefactors of mankind? Is it not the same doctrine and spirit which embittered the life of Turgot? Is it not a doctrine and a spirit such as those which have at all times been at work to stay public advancement and roll back the tide of civilization? A doctrine and a spirit actuating the minds of little men who, incapable of reaching the heights from which alone extended views of human nature can be taken, console and revenge themselves by calumniating and misrepresenting those who have toiled to such heights for the advantage of mankind. Sir, I have not to learn that there is a faction in this country – I mean, not a political faction; I should rather perhaps have said a sect, small in numbers and powerless in might, who think that all advances towards improvement are retrogradations towards Jacobinism. These persons seem to imagine that under no possible circumstances can an honest man endeavour to keep his country upon a line with the progress of political knowledge, and to adapt its course to the varying circumstances of the world. Such an attempt is branded as an indication of mischievous intentions, as evidence of a design to sap the foundations of the greatness of the country.”

Again, whilst avowing himself the pupil and disciple of Mr. Pitt, he thus beautifully expresses himself:

“It is singular to observe how ready some people are to admire in a great man the exceptions to the general rule of his conduct rather than the rule itself. Such perverse worship is like the idolatry of barbarous nations, who can see the noonday splendour of the sun without emotion, but who, when he is in eclipse, come forward with hymns and cymbals to adore him. Thus there are those who venerate Mr. Pitt less in the brightness of his meridian glory, than under his partial obscurity, and who gaze on him with the fondest admiration when he has ceased to shine.”

In this manner, by his spirit, eloquence, and abilities, he brought public opinion round in such a manner that it even accommodated itself to his personal position, bringing forward into the light his personal views as the popular ones, and throwing those which had formerly been popular, but which he did not support, into the shade. The great constitutional questions hitherto debated were for a time lost sight of, and party spirit, as Mr. Baring stated, leaving its other and more accustomed topics, seemed for the first time to display itself on subjects simply relating to the commerce and mercantile policy of the country.

VIII

At first the adherents of the Duke of Wellington were like the Royal emigrants from the old French army at the period of the great Revolution. They thought no officers could be found fitted to take their places. But when they saw another government formed, and formed of materials which, if they could be gradually moulded together, would constitute a composition of solid and perhaps permanent endurance, their feelings were marked by all that violence and injustice which are invariably displayed by men who unexpectedly lose power. Mr. Canning was a renegade for quitting his old political friends to join the Whigs; the Whigs were renegades for abandoning their old political principles to join Mr. Canning. Party rancour had not the candour to acknowledge that if the opinions of Mr. Canning on Catholic Emancipation were sufficient to alienate from him the great bulk of the Conservatives, it was natural that those opinions should attach to him the great bulk of the Liberals. To the attacks of his own party, which he called “the barking of his own turnspits,” Mr. Canning was sufficiently indifferent; but there was one voice lifted up against him, the irony of which pierced his proud heart deeply. Alone and stately, Lord Grey, who had long considered himself the great Whig leader, now stood stripped of his followers, and with little disposition to acknowledge the ascendency of another chieftain. Contempt was the terrible weapon with which he assailed his brilliant rival, whom from the height of a great aristocratic position and a long and consistent public career, he affected to look down upon as a sort of political adventurer; now carrying out measures the most oppressive to the civil liberties of the people; now spouting liberal phrases which he had no intention to realise; now advocating the claims of the Catholics in glowing words; and now abandoning them when called upon for practical deeds; and finally dressing himself up in borrowed plumes and strutting before the public as the author of a foreign policy the errors of which he cast off upon his colleagues, the merits of which, with equal meanness and unfairness, he took wholly to himself.

If all that Lord Grey said could have been completely justified (which it could not); if all that Lord Grey said, I repeat, had been entirely just (which it was not), the speech which contained it would still have been ill-timed, and impolitic. Mr. Canning represented at that moment those liberal ideas which the public were prepared to entertain. He was encircled by the general popular sympathy, and was therefore in his day, and at the hour I am speaking of, the natural head of the Liberal party. The great necessity of the moment was to save that party from defeat, and give it an advanced position, from which it might march further forward in the natural course of events. If Mr. Canning’s party had not obtained power, Lord Grey would never have had a party capable of inheriting it. If Mr. Canning had not become Prime Minister when he did, Lord Grey would not have become Prime Minister three years afterwards.

The public, with that plain common sense which distinguishes most of its judgments, made allowances for the haughty nobleman’s anger, but condemned its exhibition. Moreover, the formal charge of Lord Londonderry, who, as his brother’s representative, accused Mr. Canning of having forsaken that brother’s policy, was more than a counterpoise to Lord Grey’s accusation that one Foreign Secretary was no better than the other. Nor did people stop to examine with minute criticism every act of a statesman who had lived in changeful times, and who was then supporting a policy at home favourable to our trade, and carrying out a policy abroad which inspired affection for our name and reverence for our power.

I have as yet purposely confined my observations to those events which were connected with Spain and Portugal, and the struggle we had entered into against the Holy Alliance in regard to those countries; because it was there that Mr. Canning’s talents had been most displayed, and that their consequences had been most important. But we are not to limit our review of his conduct merely to these questions.

It was not merely in Spain or in Portugal that England justified her statesman’s proud pretension to hold over nations the umpire’s sceptre, and to maintain, as the mediatrix between extremes, the peace of the world. Such was the reputation which this statesman had obtained, even amongst those against whom his policy had been directed, that the Emperor Alexander, disgusted with the irresolution of all his other long, credited allies, turned at last to Mr. Canning, as the only one capable of taking a manly and decided part in the settlement of a question in which his power was to be guarded against on the one hand, and the feelings of his subjects, and the traditions of his empire, were to be considered on the other.

IX

The affairs in the East during the last few years require a narrative which, though rapid, may suffice to account for the alliance into which at this time we entered.

In 1821 broke out the Greek insurrection. Suppressed in Moldavia and Wallachia, where it originated, it soon acquired strength in the Greek islands and the Morea. Excesses were natural on both sides, and committed by the conquering race, determined to maintain its power, and by the subjugated one, struggling to throw off its chains. The Greek Patriarch was murdered at Constantinople, and a series of savage butcheries succeeded and accompanied this act of slaughter.

By these events Russia was placed in a peculiar and embarrassing position. She could not countenance insurrection; her system of policy just displayed in Italy could not be reversed in Greece. But the sympathies of religion, and the policy she had long pursued (that of placing herself at the head of the Christian subjects of the Porte by always assuming the air of their protectress), demanded some manifestation of interest in the cause of the rebels. She came forward, then, denouncing the attempt at revolution on the one hand, but protesting on the other against the feelings which this attempt had excited, and the means which had been taken to suppress it. The re-establishment of the Greek Church, the safe exercise of the Christian religion, were insisted upon. The indiscriminate massacre of Christians, and the occupation of Moldavia and Wallachia by Turkish troops, were loudly condemned. A reply within the time fixed not having been given to the note in which these remonstrances were expressed the Russian Ambassador quitted Constantinople, and war seemed imminent.

But it was the desire of Austria and England especially to prevent war, and their joint representations finally succeeded in persuading the Sultan to satisfy the Russian demands; consequently, shortly after Mr. Canning’s accession to office, the Greek churches were rebuilt, and the Principalities evacuated, while wanton outrages against the Rayah population were punished with due justice and severity.

Russia, however, now made new requests; even these, through the negotiations of the British ambassador at Constantinople, were complied with; and, finally, after some hesitations and prevarications, the cabinet of St. Petersburg renewed its diplomatic relations with the Porte.

Still it was not difficult to perceive that all the differences hitherto arranged were slight in comparison with those which must arise if the Greek struggle long continued unsettled. In ordinary times, indeed, we shrink before the possibility of a power (whose empire, however wide, conquest would long keep cemented) establishing itself across the whole of Europe, and holding on either side, here at the Straits of the Baltic, there on those of the Mediterranean, the means of carrying on war, or securing safety and peace as it might seem easy to obtain victory, or advisable to avoid defeat; a power which, placed in this position, would demand the constant vigilance of our fleets, establish an enormous and perpetual drain upon our resources, and which appeared not unlikely to carry through Persia (the governor of which would be merely one of her satraps) disorder and destruction to our Indian empire. In ordinary times this gigantic vision, when seen but dimly and at a distance, has more than once alarmed our government and excited our nation. But the tardy struggle of that race for independence, to whose genius and spirit we owe our earliest dreams of freedom – a struggle in which we were called upon to side with Greeks fighting for Liberty, with Christians contending for Christianity, had awakened feelings which overwhelmed all customary considerations. A paramount enthusiasm, to which a variety of causes, and especially the verses of our great and fashionable poet, were contributing, had seized upon the public mind, and was destined for a while to be omnipotent. Guarded by that enthusiasm, Russia might have planted her eagles upon the walls of Constantinople, if she had appeared as the champion of that land which had at last “exchanged the slavish sickle for the sword,” and it is doubtful whether an English Minister could have found a Parliament that would at that moment have sanctioned his defence of the Mahometan power.

– “of gods, and godlike men,”X

Mr. Canning, then, had either to allow the Russian cabinet to pursue its unavowed policy uncontrolled, or to limit its action by connecting himself with the policy which it professed. The contest, it was evident, after the first successes that had attended the Porte’s revolted subjects, would not be allowed to terminate in their subjugation. With the co-operation, or without the co-operation of Great Britain, the Morea was certain to be wrested from the Turks. To stand by neutral, calm spectators of what was certain to take place was to lose our consideration equally with the Ottoman empire and with Christian Europe, and to give to the Government which acted alone in this emergency, as the representative of an universal feeling, an almost universal prestige. But if our interference was expedient, the only question that could arise was as to the time and manner of our interfering.

As early as 1824 Count Nesselrode had had a plan for placing Greece in the situation of the Principalities of the Danube, and the great powers of Europe were invited to consider the subject. Mr. Canning was not averse to this project; but he hoped little from the discordant counsels of the five or six governments called upon to accept it; more especially as both Greece and Turkey, to whom it had become accidentally known, were equally dissatisfied; and he was therefore very properly unwilling to bind his government by a share in conferences which he foresaw were doomed to be fruitless. In short, the negotiators met and separated, and the negotiation failed.

But, in the meantime, affairs had been becoming every day more and more interesting and critical. On the one hand the sympathy for the Greeks had been increased by the unexpected resolution they had displayed; they had a loan, a government, and able and enterprising foreigners had entered into their service. So much was encouraging for their cause. But on the other hand the Egyptian army of Ibrahim Pasha had achieved cruel triumphs, and a great part of the Morea, devastated and depopulated, had submitted to his arms.