Ministers, including himself. He spoke of the Duke of Norfolk and Lords
Hardwicke, Erskine, and Egremont as four others on whom he (Lord Moira)
could rely for active co-operation.[146] Few hours elapsed before Mr.
Canning learnt that three of the above-mentioned Lords had declined every
offer; and that Lord Egremont had never been consulted by Lord Moira,
but only quoted by the Prince Regent as a man whose reluctance to take
office he could, in case of great emergency, overrule. After sundry
other meetings, which seemed devised for no practical purpose whatever,
Lord Moira presented at Carlton House the meagre list of names suggested
rather than procured by Mr. Canning.[147] The Prince Regent, glancing his
eye carelessly over them, exclaimed: “You see, my dear Moira, they are
chiefly Pittites; so the best way is to make up with the present men, and
you may settle it all with Eldon and Liverpool, _who are waiting in the
adjoining room_.” Lord Moira took his leave. The matter was as easily
settled without him by the statesmen in waiting, and in ten minutes Lord
Liverpool kissed hands as First Lord of the Treasury.
It was understood, on this revival of the old Ministry, that Government,
as such, was to take no part on the Catholic question: that a subject,
which had agitated the public for years, was to be considered by those
who directed the councils of the nation as matter of indifference, on
which they were not to concert any line of conduct whatever. Persons
in office were to give their votes on that question, without paying or
exacting any deference or compliance from their colleagues or subordinate
officers. The only accession to the Ministry consisted of Lord Sidmouth
and some few of his friends.[148]
Thus an address moved by a partisan of Mr. Canning,[149] and carried
by the assistance of the Whigs, for the purpose of forcing either or
both into the Cabinet, terminated by riveting those against whom it was
directed more securely than ever in power, and procuring a share of
it to the only faction in Parliament which had concurred in resisting
the motion. Lord Liverpool assured me that he had been on the point of
setting off on a tour on the Wye, and that from the period of the vote in
[the] Commons to the failure of Lord Moira’s negotiations with Lord Grey,
he had never directly nor indirectly obstructed the formation of a new,
or endeavoured to preserve, the old Administration. I gave and give full
credit to his assertion, and, with the exception of Lord Eldon, I believe
the same might be said of most of his colleagues. Strong disinclination
to office in the two Whig Lords; perhaps some little tincture of pride,
mingled with manners unconciliatory to strangers; the unsurmountable
barrier of opinion on the Catholic question between many of the parties
concerned; the secret contrivances of Sheridan to make his power felt;
the generous but somewhat unintelligible endeavour of Lord Moira to
screen the Regent from all odium; and above all the private determination
of the latter, steadily pursued through many byways and winding paths, to
exclude the Whigs and Lord Grey in particular—were the real causes which
defeated the formation of a new Ministry.
The Regent, to mark his satisfaction with Lord Moira, threw the Collar
of St. George round his neck and embraced him with tears; which, it
is whispered, His Royal Highness has the prerogative of shedding at
pleasure. Lord Moira was soon afterwards named Governor-General of
India.[150] Though the tool of others’ duplicity, and, in some measure,
the dupe of his own refinements in loyalty, his motives were friendly to
the Whigs, honest to the country, kind to the Prince, and creditable to
his own character on the score of generosity but not of sagacity.
I have been minute in relating the above transactions. The secret
motives of the parties were not obvious to distant observers, and much
misunderstood at the time. The statements made in the House of Lords
never reached the public. Even if they had, little would have been learnt
from them. On one occasion, Lord Grey having characterised Lord Moira’s
character as chivalrous, Moira understood the phrase as a reflection on
his understanding. A debate ensued, which their respective, or rather
common, friends were better pleased to leave without intelligible comment
than to prolong at the hazard of a quarrel. The negotiations expose the
hostility of the Prince Regent to the Whigs. They thereby furnish a clue
to his previous proceedings and an explanation of his subsequent conduct.
They discover the relations in which parties stood to one another; and
thereby exhibit a picture of the politics of the time, and portraits of
those most prominent in them.
Writers have often represented such negotiations as little more or
less than a barefaced scramble for places, a contest of ambition in
some few, and of avarice in more. In those I have witnessed there has
been generally among leading statesmen much less appetite for office,
much less ambition and avarice, than more respectable passions. In
that here related, not only Lord Grey and Lord Grenville, but Lord
Wellesley, Mr. Canning, and even Lord Liverpool, seem throughout to have
foregone the prospect of place and power for a creditable and sometimes
an overstrained and fastidious regard to character and consistency.
Every one of them might have obtained office by the sacrifice either
of connections or opinions. Possibly they were reprehensible for some
portion of pride, vanity, or resentment; but nobody with an appearance
of reason could impute to any one of them, on this occasion, either an
inordinate desire of power or a grovelling passion for place or emolument.
The adulation bestowed on living Princes is disgusting; the admiration
for high station and rank, common to most, and especially to professional
men, is adverse to the cause of truth and often ridiculous. The habit
of ascribing great designs and elevated motives to all the actions of
public characters, so prevalent in courtly writers, is not only false and
foolish but mischievous. On the other hand, the passion in which vulgar
minds indulge of levelling all public characters to their own standard,
and branding indiscriminately the leaders and followers of all parties
with the meanest selfishness, is equally false, nearly as foolish, and
much more mischievous. Far from showing sagacity, it betrays an ignorance
of mankind as well as malignity of disposition. Instead of deterring
men from corruption by the exposure of vice, it extinguishes one of the
strongest incentives to virtue, posthumous fame; and it reconciles the
world to the practice of iniquity by representing it to be universal and
unavoidable.
The re-establishment of the old Ministry under Lord Liverpool was a new
epoch. I defer the relation of the remaining events of the year and the
Session of 1812 to another chapter.
INTRODUCTION TO BOOK THE THIRD
It seemed unlikely that Lord Liverpool’s Administration, composed almost
entirely of men of second-rate ability and slender talent, would have a
long existence when pitted against the full strength of the Whig Party.
The Cabinet was divided on more than one of the leading questions of the
day, and though they could now rely with certainty on the steady support
of the Prince Regent, it seemed doubtful whether they would long remain
in power.
Lord Holland states that the Government obtained some popularity from
the successes of the British armies in the Peninsula; and certainly
Wellington’s victories were a forcible argument against the petitions
and motions in Parliament urging the re-establishment of peace. That
General decisively defeated Marmont in July, 1812, at Salamanca, and
advanced to Madrid. Though the result of this step politically was most
opportune, he was unable to maintain his position in the Spanish capital,
and was forced to retire to Portugal before the advance of the French
armies. Appointed Commander-in-Chief during the winter he took the field
with renewed vigour in 1813. The French, dismayed at the news of their
Emperor’s disastrous retreat from Moscow, were concentrated early in
the spring, and commenced their retreat behind the Ebro. Wellington
hurried in pursuit, defeated Joseph in a pitched battle at Vittoria, and
continued his advance with such success that he entered France at the
head of the Allied armies early in October.
Napoleon’s preparations for the campaign which he determined should
finally bring the whole Continent under his sway were on a scale up to
that time unknown in the history of the world. It will be remembered that
Austria and Prussia were bound by treaty to assist him, should he require
their aid. He forced them to fulfil their contract, and exacted both men
and money to assist him in the furtherance of his schemes. The French
armies crossed the Russian frontiers in June, 1812. Alexander, who had
hurriedly made peace with the Porte, could collect but half the number of
troops required to oppose the invader on even terms. Chance rather than
any settled plan of action governed the fortunes of the Russian forces,
which retreated before the advance of Napoleon. So far everything was
successful; but the organisation of the French transport had been found
wanting early in the campaign, and after the obstinately contested battle
of Borodino and the occupation of Moscow, Napoleon realised that it would
be an impossibility to maintain his troops in winter near that town.
Orders for retreat were given; hunger and cold did their worst; every
step was closely dogged by the Russian armies; and of the 480,000 men who
entered Russia, little more than 20,000 returned.
Intelligence of the French disasters was sent by the Russians to General
von York, who commanded the Prussian troops under French orders at
Riga. After some hesitation, divining the inclinations of the nation,
he threw in his lot with the Russians, though King Frederick William
had up to that time given no sign of any rupture with Napoleon. He was
encouraged, however, by Alexander’s successful pursuit of the French, and
declared war against France in March, 1813. Napoleon, who had left the
disordered remnant of his army early in December, made superhuman efforts
in France to raise fresh troops for service in Germany. His endeavours
were crowned with success; but the young levy, unused to the exigencies
of warfare, were in no way to be compared to the veterans whose lives he
had ruthlessly sacrificed in the previous campaign. The opening phases of
the conflict were favourable to the French, and had Napoleon seized his
opportunity after the battle of Bautzen, he could have obtained peace on
sufficiently advantageous terms. But his ever-increasing ambition proved
his ruin, and a conviction that the Austrian Court would remain faithful
to him blinded him to the true facts of the case. That nation was indeed
wavering, and Metternich, the guiding star of its foreign policy, had
already perceived that Napoleon was insatiable in his demands, and that
a fresh appeal to arms was inevitable. Austria joined the Allies early
in August, and a series of battles took place, culminating in the defeat
of Napoleon at Leipsic and his retirement to France. After the decisive
result of this campaign, conditions of peace were again offered by the
Allies, but no definite answer was received, and the offer was withdrawn
early in December.
The invasion of France commenced early in January, 1814, before Napoleon,
who had lost the services of a numerous body of men left in Germany to
garrison the fortresses, had gained time to collect fresh troops. It is
probable that he might still have retained the throne of France, had
he frankly accepted the terms offered at Chatillon in February; but
Caulaincourt, the French plenipotentiary, was afraid of signing a treaty
which he knew would be disavowed in the event of a French success, and
the opportunity was lost for ever.
The Congress of Chatillon broke up without arriving at any decided
agreement as to the future settlement of France. The Allies resolved to
advance to Paris, and they entered that city on March 31. Napoleon made
several skilful attempts to bar their progress; but the disgust of the
French nation at the continuance of war, the treachery of his generals,
and the hopeless numerical inferiority of his forces, made any permanent
success an impossibility. A provisional Government was proclaimed in
Paris under Talleyrand, Napoleon was dethroned and sent to Elba, and the
Bourbons were recalled to the throne in the person of Louis XVIII.
Wellington, in the south, paused for some months after reaching the
frontiers of France in October, 1813, till the senseless intrigues of
King Ferdinand, whom Napoleon had allowed to return to Spain, made the
British commander’s position somewhat insecure. He resumed operations
early in February. Soult was unable to withstand his advance, and the
continued British successes closed with the hard-earned battle of
Toulouse—a useless sacrifice of 8,000 lives, for Napoleon had abdicated
six days before. Wellington, who had accepted the post of British
Ambassador in Paris, reached that city early in May, in time to be
present at the conclusion of the definitive treaty.
By this treaty, briefly, France retained what was practically her
frontier in 1792, without the exaction of any indemnity; Switzerland
became a republic; Holland, Spain, Westphalia, Tuscany, and Piedmont
were restored to their respective sovereigns; while other outstanding
questions of importance were deferred for discussion at a Congress to be
held at Vienna within two months.
On the completion of their task, the Emperor of Russia and the King
of Prussia proceeded to England to pay a visit of congratulation to
the Prince Regent; but the Emperor of Austria was obliged to return to
his own dominions. London was _en fête_, and great crowds received the
monarchs enthusiastically, and everywhere accompanied their progress
during their stay in the country. It was about this time that rumours
were heard of the approaching marriage of the Princess Charlotte of
Wales, then in her seventeenth year, to the Prince of Orange, eldest son
of the newly made King of Holland. The probability of the arrangement
was universally believed; but the negotiations were broken off, and she
married within two years Prince Leopold of Saxe-Coburg.
War broke out between England and the United States, in the summer of
1812, over the question of the British Orders in Council. The struggle
lasted with varying success for two years and a half. By sea the
Americans more than held their own; but their attempted invasions of
Canada met with no success. Peace was concluded by the Treaty of Ghent
early in 1815, much to the delight of both countries.
BOOK THE THIRD
1812-1815
N.B.—Written in 1821, 1822, and subsequent years. Transcribed in 1825.
Lord Liverpool’s new Administration, huddled up from the cast rags and
tatters of the old, and consisting of pieces neither costly in themselves
nor well assorted to one another, seemed of no very lasting texture or
composition. On the great question of domestic policy—commonly called
Catholic Emancipation, they could only avoid disunion and dismemberment
by renouncing all opinion and action as a Government. The Prime Minister
in the Lords, as well as a majority in the Cabinet, was hostile to the
measure; yet the Leader in the Commons, Lord Castlereagh, a man of
judgment, temper, and courage, but destitute of all eloquence, wit,
taste, or knowledge, and at that period alike unpopular in England and
Ireland, had avowed that one great purpose of his public life was to
carry it.
Of the parliamentary statesmen not actually in the ranks of their
opponents, none had any strong predilections and many had personal
enmities to the Ministers. Mr. Wilberforce[151] and the party called
“Saints” could not view with very great complacency an Administration
formed almost exclusively of the ancient and inveterate enemies of their
favourite measure “the Abolition.” If Mr. Canning was somewhat less
disposed than he had been to ridicule the incapacity of Lord Liverpool,
his resentment to Lord Castlereagh for his Ministerial opposition and
personal hostility in 1809 had scarcely abated. Lord Wellesley did not
conceal his private aversion and public scorn of his late colleagues;
and even the Prince Regent himself, though united cordially with them
in hatred of the Whigs, had no strong ties of personal attachment or
political gratitude to cement his connection with them. A war with
America was impending, and the Orders in Council could not be maintained
without ruin to the country, and, on the other hand, could hardly be
abandoned without disgusting the only warm supporters the Ministry
had, _viz._, the adherents of Mr. Perceval. They relinquished them,
however, and to all appearance at the instance or from a dread of Mr.
Brougham.[152]
Such an acknowledgment of weakness seemed an inauspicious commencement
of an Administration. From all these premises it was foreboded that the
Ministry would be inglorious and short-lived. But though philosophy
never would teach us to discard all foresight, prudence, or calculation,
she has been often compelled to acknowledge that in political affairs
what is probable seldom happens. Time and accident enabled this rickety
Ministry to disappoint the expectation of their opponents; and though
their adherents scarcely pretend to attribute their success to any
extraordinary merit in them, yet the splendour of victories abroad
and the undisturbed possession of power at home, which have failed to
procure them contemporary applause even from the vulgar much more any
approbation from the wise, will not improbably obtain for them the
encomiums and possibly the admiration of more remote historians and
posterity. It must be acknowledged that, with the exception of Wellington
in the field and Eldon on the Bench, any reverence they inspire must be
from a distance[153]—from those who never transacted business in their
offices, never heard their harangues in Parliament, nor approached their
persons in private. With all such, mediocrity is their characteristic.
The perseverance of Mr. Brougham in exposing the Orders in Council before
any new Administration was formed had made an impression both on the
House and the country. The Ministers, though with some hesitation and
much bad grace, began by announcing an intention to rescind them. That
resolution, or rather concession, though too late to prevent a war with
America,[154] disarmed the Opposition at home on the occurrence of that
event, and satisfied the country that the hostile disposition to the
United States and the narrow spirit of Mr. Perceval’s policy had died
with that Minister. The persuasion was strengthened by his personal
and political friend, Mr. Stephen,[155] the real instigator of those
impolitic measures, withdrawing himself from public discussions.
The Catholic question seemed, at first, to have gained by the death
of its chief Ministerial opponent and the sort of interregnum which
intervened. Mr. Canning, in June, moved a resolution to take it into
consideration in the ensuing Session, and the motion was carried by 235
to 106. The main question had been lost two months before by 300 to 215!
Such is the difference which a partial change of Ministry can make in
a House of Commons! In the Lords, the alteration was not so sensible,
for though Lord Wellesley lost a similar question only by the trifling
majority of one, the numbers who voted for his motion and those who
supported that of Lord Donoughmore on the preceding April differed only
by 24.
I presented two bills on the subject of _ex officio_ informations.[156]
They were both rejected on the second reading, upon the opposition of
Lord Chief Justice Ellenborough and Lord Chancellor Eldon. The object
of one of them I have since had the good fortune to obtain.[157] The
Attorney-General has it no longer in his power to keep an _ex officio_
information hanging _in terrorem_ over the head of an accused person for
an indefinite period. The other mischief which I attempted to remove
by these bills is, on the contrary, greatly extended in practice. It
is now not only recognised as law, but actually considered as a matter
of course, to hold to bail on an _ex officio_ information any person
accused of libel or other misdemeanour tending to a breach of the
peace, though admitted not to amount to one. Subjects of this nature
seldom excite much interest in the public, without exciting too much to
render it practicable or perhaps prudent to legislate about them. It is
part of the duty of a public man, and one which I have endeavoured to
perform, to keep in view the abuses of which at any one time he has felt
the inconvenience without being able to rectify it, and to seize the
opportunity of quickly and silently correcting them, when there is less
prejudice or passion likely to be offered to him and less commendation or
notice likely to attend his success.
All such considerations, and others of yet greater delicacy and
importance, were soon afterwards overwhelmed by a marvellous tide
of good fortune in our foreign wars. Lord Wellington displayed the
promptitude and decision of a great general in the battle of Salamanca.
General Marmont (whose elevation to command, by the favour or caprice of
Napoleon, was destined to be fatal to the interests of that extraordinary
man) exposed his army to disadvantage.[158] Lord Wellington seized the
moment; his movements were rapid, judicious, and fortunate, and his
victory decisive.[159] The battle is considered by military men, and,
I believe, by the General himself, as the greatest action of his life.
In its consequences it was scarcely less important than his subsequent
more brilliant and celebrated, though perhaps not better deserved,
victories. Madrid was entered by the English, our army advanced into Old
Castile, and the siege of Cadiz was raised in the course of a month.
Some of the fruits of this success were indeed lost by Lord Wellington’s
rash and obstinate attack on Burgos, and by the prudent manœuvres of
General Clausel[160] on his flank. Yet the south of Spain was permanently
relieved, and a prospect of liberation from the French held out to all
Spaniards, which was ultimately realised in their favour. At home our
hopes revived. Ministers wisely judged the moment propitious for the
election of a new House of Commons, and they dissolved Parliament.
The event justified their policy. The Parliament of 1812 was not less
subservient to the Ministry than the one which had preceded it.