maintained by Mr. Pitt; that is the point on which his authority is
truly valuable. The principles upon which this right was affirmed
and exercised are true for all times and all occasions. If they were
the principles of the Constitution in 1788, they are equally so in
1811; the lapse of twenty-two years had not impaired, the lapse of
centuries could not impair them. But the mode in which the right so
asserted should be exercised, the precise provisions to be framed
for the temporary substitution of the executive power--these were
necessarily then, as they must be now, matters not of eternal and
invariable principle, but of prudence and expediency. In regard to
these, therefore, the authority of the opinion of any individual,
however great and wise and venerable, can be taken only with reference
to the circumstances of the time in which he has to act, and are
not to be applied without change or modification to other times and
circumstances.”[117]
II.
Thus, all that partisanship could demand in favour of an abstract
principle, was religiously accorded to the _manes_ of the defunct
statesman; and a difference as wide as the living Prince of Wales could
desire, established between the theory that no one any longer disputed,
and the policy which was the present subject of contention. Here Mr.
Canning acted with tact and foresight if he merely acted as a political
schemer. The Royal personage on whom power was about to devolve
had always expressed the strongest dislike, not to say disgust,
at any abridgment of the Regal authority. He was likely to form a
new Administration. The Whigs, it is true, were then considered the
probable successors to power; but the Whigs would want assistance; and
subsequent events showed that a general feeling had begun to prevail
in favour of some new combination of men less exclusive than could be
found in the ranks of either of the extreme and opposing parties. But
it is fair to add that the course which Mr. Canning might have taken
for his private interest, he had every motive to take for the public
welfare.
Beyond the personal argument of the sick King’s convenience--an
argument which should hardly guide the policy or affect the destinies
of a mighty kingdom--Mr. Perceval had not, for the restrictions he
proposed, one reasonable pretext. It might, indeed, be agreeable to
George III., if he recovered from his sad condition, to find things and
persons as he had left them; and to recognise that all the functions
of Government had been palsied since the suspension of his own power.
But if ever the hands of a sovereign required to be strongly armed, it
was most assuredly in those times. They were no times of ease or peace
in which a civilized people may be said to govern themselves; neither
were we merely at war. The war we were waging was of life or death;
the enemy with whom we were contending concentrated in his own mind,
and wielded with his own hand, all the force of Europe. This was not a
moment for enfeebling the Government that had to contend against him.
The power given to the King or Regent in our country is not, let it be
remembered, an individual and irresponsible power. It is a National
power devolving on responsible Ministers, who have to account to the
nation for the use they make of it.
“What,” said Mr. Canning (having assumed and asserted the right
of the two Houses of Parliament to supply the incapacity of the
sovereign)--“what is the nature of the business which through
incapacity stands still, and which we are to find the means of carrying
on? It is the business of a mighty state. It consists in the exercise
o£ functions as large as the mind can conceive--in the regulation and
direction of the affairs of a great, a free, and a powerful people:
in the care of their internal security and external interests; in
the conduct, of foreign negotiations; in the decision of the vital
questions of peace and war; and in the administration of the Government
throughout all the parts, provinces, and dependencies of an empire
extending itself into every quarter of the globe. This is the awful
office of a king; the temporary execution of which we are now about to
devolve upon the Regent. What is it, considering the irresponsibility
of the Sovereign as an essential part of the Constitution,--what is
it that affords a security to the people for the faithful exercise of
these all-important functions? The responsibility of Ministers. What
are the means by which these functions operate? They are those which,
according to the inherent imperfection of human nature, have at all
times been the only motives to human actions, the only control upon
them of certain and permanent operation, viz., the punishment of evil,
and the reward of merit. Such, then, being the functions of monarchical
government, and such being the means of rendering them efficient to the
purposes of good government, are we to be told that in providing for
its delegation, while it is not possible to curtail those powers which
are in their nature harsh and unpopular, it is necessary to abridge
those milder, more amiable and endearing prerogatives which bear an
aspect of grace and favour towards the subject?”
III.
There was no answer to Mr. Canning, but a very practical one. Mr.
Perceval thought that the King would shortly recover and keep him in
office--and that the Regent, if his Royal Highness had but the power,
would forthwith turn him out of it. Such an argument might satisfy a
more scrupulous minister. In vain, therefore, was it urged, “If the
powers of a monarch are not necessary now, they are never necessary. In
consulting the possible feelings of the sick King, you are injuring the
certain interests of kingly authority.”
The passions or interests of a faction will ever ride high over its
principles; and for a second time within half a century the theory
of monarchy received the greatest practical insult from a high Tory
minister. That the House of Commons thought a new era at hand was seen
by its divisions. On the motion of Mr. Lamb (afterwards Lord Melbourne)
against the “Restrictions,” the majority in favour of Government was
but 224 to 200.
A variety of circumstances, however, to which allusion will presently
be made, prevented the general expectation from being realized. The
Government remained, but it was not a Government that seemed likely
to be of long duration. On one important question Mr. Canning almost
immediately opposed it.
IV.
The report of a committee, distinguished for its ability, had
attributed the depreciation in the value of bank-notes to their
excessive issue, and recommended a return, within two years, to cash
payments. Mr. Canning had belonged to this committee, and had given the
subject, however foreign to his customary studies, much attention. The
view which he took upon the sixteen resolutions moved by Mr. Horner,
May 8, 1811, was, perhaps, the best. To all those resolutions, which
went to fix as a principle that a real value in metal should be the
proper basis for a currency--a general landmark, by which legislation
should, as far as it was practicable, be guided--he assented; that
particular resolution, which, under the critical circumstances of
the country, went to fetter and prescribe the moment at which this
principle should be resumed, he opposed.
Such opposition was unavailing; and History instructs us, by the
resolution which Mr. Vansittart then proposed, that no absurdity is so
glaring as to shock the eye of prejudiced credulity.
“May 13, 1811.
“Resolution III.--‘_That it is the opinion of this committee_
(a committee of the whole House) _that the promissory notes of
the company_ (the Bank) _have hitherto been, and are at this
time, held in public estimation to be equivalent to the legal
coin of the realm, and generally accepted as such._’”
The Chancellor of the Exchequer thus called upon the House of Commons
to assert, that the public esteemed, a twenty shilling bank-note as
much as twenty shillings; and it had just been necessary to frame a law
to prevent persons giving more than £1 and 1 shilling for a guinea, and
all the guineas had disappeared from England. It had just been found
expedient to raise the value of crown-pieces from 5_s._ to 5_s._ 6_d._
(which was, in fact, to reduce £1 in paper to the value of 18_s._), in
order to prevent crown-pieces from disappearing also. Persons were in
prison for buying guineas at a premium; whilst pamphlets and papers
were universally and daily declaring that the notes of the company were
not at that time held in public estimation to be equivalent to the
legal coin of the realm.
“When Galileo,” said Mr. Canning, “first promulgated the doctrine that
the earth turned round the sun, and that the sun remained stationary
in the centre of the universe, the holy father of the Inquisition took
alarm at so daring an innovation, and forthwith declared the first
of these propositions to be false and heretical, and the other to be
erroneous in point of faith. The holy office pledged itself to believe
that the earth was stationary and the sun movable. But this pledge had
little effect in changing the natural course of things: the sun and the
earth continued, in spite of it, to preserve their accustomed relations
to each other, just as the coin and the bank-note will, in spite of
the right honourable gentleman’s resolution.”--[Report of Bullion
Committee.]
But if the opposition had the best of the debate, the minister
triumphed in the division; nevertheless so equivocal a success, whilst
lowering the character of Parliament, did not heighten that of the
Ministry.
Mr. Perceval, indeed, though possessing the quick, sharp mind of a
lawyer, and the small ready talent of a debater, was without any of
those superior qualities which enable statesmen to take large views.
Great as an advocate, he was small as a statesman. Lord Wellesley at
last revolted at his supremacy, and, quitting the government, observed
that “he might serve _with_ Mr. Perceval, but could never serve _under_
him again.”
V.
About this time expired the period during which the Regency
restrictions had been imposed; and not long after, the Premier (being
confirmed in office by new and unsuccessful attempts to remodel the
Administration) was assassinated by a madman (11 May, 1812).
The cabinet, which with Mr. Perceval was weak, without Mr. Perceval
seemed impossible; and all persons at the moment were favourable to
such a fusion of parties as would allow of the formation of a Cabinet,
powerful and efficient.
Lord Wellesley, a man who hardly filled the space in these times for
which his great abilities qualified him (co-operating with Mr. Canning,
who was to be leader in the House of Commons), was selected as the
statesman through whom such a Cabinet was to be formed. But Lord
Liverpool, from personal reasons, at once declined all propositions
from Lord Wellesley. Another negotiation was then opened, the basis
proposed for a new ministry being that four persons should be returned
to the Cabinet by Lord Wellesley and Mr. Canning; four (of whom Lord
Erskine and Lord Moira were two) by the Prince Regent; and five by
Lords Grey and Grenville, whilst the principles agreed to by all,
were to be the vigorous prosecution of the war, and the immediate
conciliation of the Catholics. The vigorous prosecution of the war and
the conciliation of the Catholics were assented to; nor was it stated
that the other conditions were inadmissible, though it was suggested
that there would be a great inconvenience in making the Cabinet Council
a debating society, and entering it with hostile and rival parties.
Lord Wellesley returned to the Regent for further orders. But his
Royal Highness deemed it expedient to consider that Lord Wellesley’s
attempt had been a failure, and the task which had been given to him
was transferred to Lord Moira. This nobleman, vain, weak, and honest,
undertook the commission, and a new treaty was commenced with Lords
Grey and Grenville, whose conduct at this time, it must be added, seems
at first sight unintelligible; for they were granted every power they
could desire in political matters. But there were various personal
and private reasons which rendered all arrangements difficult. In the
first place, Lord Grey is said to have despised, and never to have
trusted the Prince, who, as he believed, was merely playing with the
Whig party. In the next, Lord Grenville could not make up his mind to
resign the auditorship of the exchequer, a certain salary for life, nor
to accept a lower office than that of First Lord of the Treasury, while
the union of the two offices, the one being a check upon the other,
was too evident a job to escape observation; indeed, Mr. Whitbread had
positively said that he could never support such a combination.
Thus, a variety of petty interests made any pretext sufficient to
interfere with the completion of a scheme which every one was eager
to counsel, no one ready to adopt. The most ungracious pretext, that
of dictating the Regent’s household, was chosen for a rupture; but it
happened to chime in with the popular cry, which was loud against the
influence of Hertford House; as may be seen by the speeches of the day,
and particularly by a speech from Lord Donoughmore, in which he talks
of the Marchioness of Hertford, to whose veteran seductions the Regent
was then supposed to have fallen a victim, as “a matured enchantress”
who had by “potent spells” destroyed all previous prepossessions, and
taken complete possession of the Royal understanding.
VI.
There was as much bad taste as impolicy in these attacks; and the
long-pending struggle terminated at last in favour of Lord Liverpool,
who on June 8, 1812, declared himself Prime Minister. Why did Mr.
Canning, who was solicited at the close of the session to join Lord
Liverpool’s Administration, decline to do so? Not because he was
personally hostile to Lord Liverpool: he was warmly attached to that
nobleman; not because the Administration was exclusive, and only
admitted those who were hostile to the Catholic Question; for he
subsequently says (May 18, 1819): “I speak with perfect confidence when
I assert that those who gave their support to the present Ministry
on its formation, did so on the understanding that every member of
it entered into office with the _express stipulation_ that he should
maintain his own opinion in Parliament on the Catholic Question.”
Mr. Stapleton says it was because his friends thought that to the
Foreign Office, which he was offered, ought to have been added the
lead in the House of Commons, which Lord Liverpool would not withdraw
from Lord Castlereagh. But Mr. Canning eventually became a member of
the Government whose fate he now declined to share, leaving to Lord
Castlereagh the lead in the House of Commons. How, then, are we to
account for this difference of conduct at two different epochs?
An explanation may thus be found: During the years 1810 and 1811, our
continental policy had still remained unfortunate. True it was that,
by the unexpected skill and unexampled energy of our new commander,
we gained, during 1811, the possession of Portugal, driving from that
country a general who had hitherto been equally conspicuous for his
talents and his fortune. But the whole of the Spanish frontier, and the
greatest part of Spain itself, was held by the French armies; while the
victory of Wagram, the revolution in Sweden, the marriage of Napoleon,
the birth of the King of Rome, had greatly added to the weight and
apparent stability of the French empire.
Our differences with the United States had also continually increased;
and in 1812, war, which had long been impending, was declared and
justified in an eloquent and able statement by Mr. Madison.
In the meantime Napoleon, surrounded by that luminous mystery which
gave a kind of magic to his actions, was marching in all the pomp of
anticipated triumph against the remote and solitary state which alone,
on the humbled and subjugated continent, had yet the means and the
courage to dispute his edicts and defy his power. Up to the 14th of
September, when he entered Moscow, his career was more marvellous, his
glory more dazzling than ever.
VII.
Such was the state of foreign affairs when Mr. Canning and his friends
refused to connect themselves with a feeble and self-mistrusting
administration. But the year following things were strangely altered.
The retreat from Russia had taken place; the battle of Leipsic had been
fought. Russians, Austrians, Saxons, Swedes, Bavarians, Spaniards,
Portuguese, the people of those various nations, who had formerly to
defend their own territory, were now pouring into France.
The first gleams of victory shone over the gloomy struggle of twenty
years. An accident yet unexplained--the burning of a city on the
farthest confines of the civilized world--had changed the whole face of
European affairs. “The mighty deluge,” to use Mr. Canning’s poetical
language, “by which the Continent had been so long overwhelmed, began
to subside. The limits of nations were again visible, and the spires
and turrets of ancient establishments began to re-appear from beneath
the subsiding wave.”[118]
From this moment Mr. Canning began to show confidence in a ministry
which he had hitherto more or less despised. The desire of sustaining
it in this crisis of the terrible conflict in which we were engaged,
had no doubt some influence over his conduct; but I venture to add that
there are natures which, without being instigated by low and vulgar
motives, have a propensity to harmonize with success. Mr. Canning’s
nature was of this description. It loved the light to shine on its
glittering surface; and he began to feel a sympathy for the Government,
bright with the rays of anticipated fortune, which in darker moments he
had shrunk from with antipathy and mistrust.
VIII.
Napoleon fell shortly afterwards, and Mr. Huskisson, the most
celebrated of Mr. Canning’s followers, was gazetted as Commissioner
of Woods and Forests; Mr. Canning himself (who at the last general
election had been honoured by the unsolicited representation of
Liverpool) accepting an embassy to Lisbon. His acceptance of this
office was one of the actions of his life for which he was most
attacked; it was considered a job; for an able minister (Mr. Sydenham),
on a moderate salary, was recalled, in order to give the eminent
orator, whose support the Government wished to obtain, the appointment
of ambassador on a much larger salary: and although, when Mr. Lambton
(afterwards Lord Durham) brought forward a motion on the subject,
Mr. Canning made a triumphant reply to the specific charges brought
against his nomination, and although he was altogether above the
accusation of accepting any post for the mere sake of its emoluments,
it was nevertheless clear that it was because he was going to Lisbon
for the health of his son, and that it was more agreeable to him to
go in an official position than as a simple individual, that he had
been employed, and his predecessor removed. It is needless to add he
would have acted more wisely had he not accepted a post in which little
credit was to be gained and much censure was to be risked.
On his return from Portugal he entered the Cabinet at the head of the
Board of Control.
During his absence many events had occurred to characterize the
Administration he joined. Peace finally established on the prostrate
armies of France, which at Waterloo had made their last struggle, left
the war which we had pursued with so lavish an expenditure, and so
desperate a determination, to be estimated by its results. Whatever the
necessity of this war at its commencement, the cause under which it had
been continued for the last fourteen years was sacred.
A military chief at the head of a valorous soldiery, had during this
time trampled on the rights and feelings of almost every people in
Europe. The long-established barriers of independent states had been
shifted or pulled down like hurdles, to make them fit the increasing or
diminishing drove of cattle which it suited the caprices of the French
ruler that they should contain. The inhabitants of such states, treated
little better than mere cattle, had been seized, sold, bartered,
given away. It was no marvel, then, that the conquerors became in the
end the conquered; for the struggle was one which commenced by all
the kings marching against one people, and concluded by every people
marching against one warrior. They invoked--these new assailants--what
is best in philosophy, morality, policy; they conquered, and what did
philosophy, morality, policy gain? Were rights and natural sympathies
respected? Were old landmarks restored?
The peace alluded to was said to be a peace founded on justice, and
justice never deserts the weak; yet Genoa was gone; Venice was no more;
Poland remained partitioned; Saxony had been plundered by Prussia with
as unsparing a hand as that by which she herself had been despoiled
during the conquests of France. Norway, by a treaty, which Mr. Canning
had said, in 1813, when still unshackled by office, “filled him with
shame, regret, and indignation,” was become the unwilling recompense
to Sweden for the loss of a province of which a mightier power had
taken possession. A struggle of the fiercest nature had been steadily
maintained merely for the sake of restoring things to their old
condition; and no nation not pre-eminent in power got back its own,
except Spain, which recovered the Inquisition.[119] Even Holland was
not re-invested with her ancient liberties, her old noble republican
name. Stripped of her glorious history, and weakened by the addition
of four millions of discontented subjects, the statesmen of the day
fancied her more august and more secure. The errors committed at this
time were those of a system; for there were two courses to pursue in
the re-settlement of Europe. Had it appeared that, after a conflict
of nearly thirty years, during which violence had held unlimited
sway, everything which was dear to the people it concerned, and which
still stood forth vivid in history, was endowed with a new reality;
that at the overthrow of wrongful power, the right of the meanest
was everywhere weighed, and the right of the weakest everywhere
established: had it appeared that the mightiest captain of modern times
had only been vanquished by a principle--which, if the general interest
could predominate, would regulate the destinies of the world--then
indeed a lesson, of which it is impossible to calculate the effects,
would have been given to all future ambitious disturbers of mankind:
while the lovers of peace and virtue in every portion of the globe,
even in France, would have seen something holy in the triumph which had
been gained, and gathered round the cause of the allies. But if this
was one policy, there was also another, and that other was adopted.
IX.
As Bonaparte had cut up and parcelled out nations for the purpose of
enlarging the boundaries and strengthening the dominions of France, so
the conquerors of Bonaparte spoiled and partitioned with equal zeal,
in order to control the boundaries and restrain the dominion of the
warlike people they had defeated. The limits imposed by right, justice,
antiquity, custom, were all disregarded, and an attempt, by preference,
made to throw up against all future schemes of conquest the patchwork
barrier of ill-united and discordant populations.
Such had been the termination of affairs in Europe; but our
contest with America was also over. We had made a treaty with that
Power--a treaty so contrived that it did not settle a single one
of those questions for which we had engaged in war. Nor were the
circumstances under which this singular arrangement was completed
such as compelled us to accede to it. The whole force of the British
empire was disengaged; we could no longer say that our fleets were
not invincible in one quarter of the world because their strength was
exerted in another; whilst, if we meant to keep the dominion of the
seas--more important to us than the whole of that continent we had been
subsidizing and contending upon--there was every peril to apprehend
from leaving unchecked the spirit of a rising rival, who had lately
fought and frequently vanquished us on our own element, and who
during a long peace would have the opportunity to mature that strength
of which she was already conscious and proud. In short, the peace of
Europe affected our character for morality, that of America weakened
the belief in our power.
Mr. Canning would hardly have joined an Administration which had so
mismanaged our foreign affairs, if the glory of our arms had not
gilded in some degree the faults of our diplomacy. But the part which
that diplomacy had played on the Continent was not without its effect
upon things at home. We had become each year more and more alienated
from our military allies, who having triumphed by the enthusiasm of
their people, seemed disposed to govern by the bayonets of their
troops. The Holy Alliance--that singular compact, invented partly by
the superstition, partly by the policy of the Emperor Alexander--an
alliance by which three sovereigns, at the head of conquering armies,
swore in very mystical language to govern according to the doctrines
of Christian charity, swearing also (which was more important) to
lend each other assistance on all occasions, and in all places--this
alliance, which no one could clearly understand, and which our
Government refused to join, excited all the suspicion and all the
apprehension which mystery never fails to produce, and made Englishmen,
while they were rejoicing at having subdued an overgrown and despotic
tyranny in one quarter of the world, doubt whether they might not have
created as dangerous a one in another.
X.
Nor was this all. They who begin to be dissatisfied with the fruits of
victory, soon grow more and more dissatisfied with what victory has
cost. Moreover, this period, from a variety of circumstances, some of
them inseparable from the sudden transition from active war to profound
peace, was one of great uncertainty and distress; whilst the public
mind, no longer excited by military conflict, was the more disposed to
political agitation. A demand for diminished imposts, and a demand for
political reform, are always to be expected at such moments. Our form
of government led more naturally to these demands, for the theory of
the constitution was at variance with its practice; the one saying that
Englishmen should be taxed by their representatives, the other proving
that they were in many instances taxed by persons who represented a
powerful patron or a petty constituency, and not the people of England.
The evils complained of were exaggerated; there were exaggerations
also as to the remedies for which the most violent of the clamorous
called. But the thoughts of the nation were directed to economy as
a relief from taxation, and to parliamentary reform as a means of
economy. Public meetings in favour of parliamentary reform were held;
resolutions in favour of parliamentary reform were passed; petitions
praying for it were presented; the energies of a free people, who
thought themselves wronged, were aroused: great excitement prevailed.
XI.
The vessel of the state in these sudden squalls requires that those at
the helm should govern it with a calm heart and a steady hand. Anger
and fear are equally to be avoided, for they lead equally to violent
measures, and the excitement of one party only feeds the excitement of
the other.
Lord Castlereagh, the leading spirit at this time in the Cabinet, vapid
and incorrect as an orator, inefficient as an administrator, was still,
as I have elsewhere said, not without qualities as a statesman--for
he was cool and he was courageous; and, therefore, if we now see him
acting as if under the influence of the most slavish apprehension, we
must look for some reasonable motive for his appearing to entertain
fears which he could not have really felt.
Now, the fact is, that he had but two things to do--to satisfy the
discontented as aggrieved, or to rally the majority of the country
against them as disaffected. The first policy would not keep his party
in power; the second, therefore, was the one he preferred. The terrors
of the timid were to be awakened; the passions of the haughty were to
be aroused; the designs of the malcontents were to be darkened--their
strength increased--in short, to save the Ministry, it was essential
that the State should be declared in danger. This is an old course; it
has been tried often: it was tried now.
Thus Government opened the Session of 1817 with a “green bag.”
This bag, a true Pandora’s box, contained threats of every
mischief--assassination, incendiarism, insurrection, in their most
formidable and infuriated shapes. One conspiracy, indeed, was a model
that deserves to be set apart for the use of future conspirators
or--statesmen. It comprehended the storming of the Bank and the Tower,
the firing the different barracks, the overthrow of everybody and
everything, even the great and massive bridges which cross the Thames,
and which were to be blown up as a matter of course; but the traitors
were pious and brave men, relying almost wholly on Providence and their
courage, so that only two hundred and fifty pikes and some powder
in an old stocking had been provided to secure the success of their
undertaking.
XII.
Many schemes equally plausible were attributed to, and perhaps
entertained by, a few unhappy men in the manufacturing districts; while
the well-known doctrines of an enthusiast named Spence[120]--doctrines
which inculcate the necessity of property being held in common, and
which under different names have been continually put forward at every
period of the world--found amongst the poor and starving, as they will
ever find in times of distress and difficulty, a ready reception.
“These doctrines,” said Lord Castlereagh, “contain in themselves a
principle of contradiction;” but he was not willing to trust to this
principle alone!
Various laws were passed, tending to limit the right of discussion: men
were forbidden to co-operate or correspond for the purpose of amending
the existing constitution. Public meetings were placed at the disposal
of a magistrate, who could prevent or disperse them as he thought
proper. Finally, the “Habeas Corpus” Act was suspended.
Nothing could be more wanton or absurd than this last outrage on public
freedom. The Ministers who were calling upon the country to defend our
institutions, were for sweeping away their very foundations. In vain
did Lord Grey, with even more than his usual eloquence, exclaim, “We
are warned not to let any anxiety for the security of liberty lead to a
compromise of the security of the State; for my part, I cannot separate
these two things; the safety of the State can only be found in the
protection of the liberties of the people.”
Having entered upon a career of terror, a new violence is daily
necessary in order to guard against the consequences of the last; nor
was the addition of 3,000,000_l._ of taxes, imposed at the close of
1819, well adapted to soothe popular irritation. In the meantime the
meeting at Manchester, foolishly got up, and foolishly and barbarously
put down, aroused a cry which only the utmost severity could hope
to quell. Such severity was adopted in the Acts which prevented
public and parish meetings; which punished offences of the press with
transportation; which exposed the houses of peaceable inhabitants to
midnight search, and deprived an Englishman of what was once considered
his birthright--the right of keeping arms for his own defence. At the
same time the bulk of the nation was declared to be sound and loyal,
the country prosperous; and as a note which may perhaps be considered
somewhat explanatory of these different declarations, came a demand for
10,000 additional troops. It was of no use to argue that the nation
was quiet, and resolved only on constitutional means of redress. “Yes,
sir,” said the figurative seconder of the Address (1819)--“yes, sir,
there has undoubtedly been an appearance of tranquillity, but it _is
the tranquillity of a lion waiting for his prey_. There has been the
apparent absence of danger, but it is that of a fire half-smothered
by the weight of its own combustible materials.” “The meeting at
Manchester,” argued Lord Lansdowne (Nov. 30, 1819), “if it had not
been disturbed by the magistrates, would have gone off quietly.”
“Perhaps,” replied an orator who defended the Government, “that might
have been the case; but why? in the contemplation of things to come,
the peaceable and quiet demeanour of the disaffected, instead of
lessening the danger, ought to aggravate the alarm--_ipsa silentia
terrent_.”
XIII.
So because people assembled at a meeting which was likely to disperse
peaceably might at some future time (and this was conjecture) act
less peaceably, they were to be charged and sabred; while their
constitutional conduct neither at this nor at any other period could be
of the least avail; heat of language was not even necessary to procure
them the treatment of rebels; for if men met and were _silent_, if they
met and never uttered a word, their very silence, under the classical
authority of three Latin words, was to be considered full of awful
treason. Jury after jury denounced the conduct of the Government by
returning verdicts which were accusations against it. Still the same
system was persevered in. Ministers went through the country with a
drag net, hauling up--not one or two influential persons (such, indeed,
they could not find)--but whole classes of men. Spies also, as it
appeared from the different trials, acted as incendiaries, contributing
in no small degree to the marvellous plots that they discovered. In one
instance, a fellow of the name of Oliver had gone about to all whom he
imagined ill disposed, presenting Sir Francis Burdett’s compliments;
a circumstance the more remarkable, since the only decent colour ever
attempted to be given to these notions of insurrection was, that the
names of respectable persons had been used in connection with them. In
another case a government creature, by the name of Edwards, actually
advanced money to a gentleman who may be considered the arch-traitor
of the epoch, since he was the author of that famous conspiracy which
included in its programme cutting off all the ministers’ heads.
This conspiracy--of which Mr. Thistlewood, supported by the aforesaid
Mr. Edwards, Mr. Davidson, a man of colour, and Messrs. Tidd and
Brunt, two shoemakers, were the leaders--closed the series of those
formidable plots for putting an end to King, Lords, and Commons, which
for three years disturbed the country; the Ministers affecting to
consider that the wisdom of the policy they pursued was proved by the
folly of those wretched men whom they delivered to the executioner.
Another circumstance is to be remarked in reviewing these times, and
attempting to portray their spirit. The Government had not only been
tyrannical at home, it had afforded all the assistance in its power
to foreign tyrants. First was passed the Alien Bill; a measure which
might have been defended in 1793, when France was sending out her
revolutionary apostles; which might, with a certain plausibility, have
been asked for in 1814, when, if the war were concluded, peace could
hardly be considered as established; but which in 1816 could have no
other pretext than that of enabling the minister of the day to refuse a
refuge to any unhappy exile from the despotism of the Continent.
Shortly afterwards (1819) came the Foreign Enlistment Bill. That which
Queen Elizabeth refused to Spain when Spain was in the height of her
power, was conceded to Spain, now fallen into the lowest state of
moral as well as political degradation. It was true that during the
Administration of Sir Robert Walpole, and under the natural fears
of Jacobite armies, formed on foreign shores, laws had been passed
prohibiting British subjects, except upon special permission, from
engaging in foreign service; and the pretext now put forward was
insomuch plausible, that it pretended to place service in the armies
of recognised and unrecognised states on the same footing--no law
existing in respect to the last. But the law in existence had not been
enforced. Spain, which had been hasty in recognising the independence
of the United States, could not ask us to defeat rebellion in her own
colonies. Those colonies had, in fact, been first instigated by us to
revolt. The regulation, professing to be impartial, would only operate
in reality against one of the parties; and with that party all our
commercial interests were connected.
XIV.
It is impossible to look back to these years, and to consider the
conduct of Mr. Canning without deep regret. The most eloquent and
plausible defences of the un-English policy which prevailed were
made by him. In his speech in favour of the Seditious Meetings Bill
(Feb. 24, 1817), may be seen wit supplying the place of argument;
argument rendered attractive by the graces of rhetoric, and forcible
by the appearance of passion. He had now, indeed, nearly attained the
perfection of his own style, a style which, as it has been said, united
the three excellences of--rapidity, polish, and ornament; and it was
the first of these qualities, let it be repeated, which, though perhaps
the least perceivable of his merits, was the greatest.
“What is the nature of this danger? Why, sir, the danger to be
apprehended is not to be defined in one word. It is rebellion; it
is treason, but not treason merely; it is confiscation, but not
confiscation within such bounds as have usually been applied to the
changes of dynasties, or the revolution of states; it is an aggregate
of all these evils; it is that dreadful variety of sorrow and suffering
which must invariably follow the extinction of loyalty, morality, and
religion; the subversion, not only of the constitution of England, but
of the whole frame of society. Such is the nature and extent of the
danger which would attend the success of the projects developed in the
report of the committee. But these projects would never have been of
importance, it is affirmed, had they not been brought into notice by
persecution. Persecution! Does this character belong to the proceedings
instituted against those who set out on their career in opposition
to all law; and who, in their secret cabals, and midnight counsels,
and mid-day harangues, have been voting for destruction of every
individual, and every class of individuals, which may stand in their
way? But the schemes of these persons are visionary. I admit it. They
have been laid by these twenty years without being found to produce
mischief. Be it so. Such doctrines when dormant may be harmless
enough, and their intrinsic absurdity may make it appear incredible
that they should ever be called up into action. But when the incredible
resurrection actually takes place, when the votaries of these doctrines
actually go forth armed to exert physical strength in furtherance of
them, then it is that I think it time to be on my guard--not against
the accomplishment of such plans (that is, I am willing to believe,
impracticable), but against the mischief which must attend the attempt
to accomplish them by force.”
Throughout the whole of this passage it can hardly be said that there
is a full stop. However studiously framed, not a period lingers;
a rush of sentences gives the audience no time to pause. Abruptly
framed, rapidly delivered, the phrases which may have been for hours
premeditated in the Cabinet, could not, in the moment of delivery,
have the least appearance of art. The oratory of Mr. Canning was also
remarkable for a kind of figurative way of stating common-places, which
good taste may not approve, but which, nevertheless, is well calculated
to strike and inflame a popular assembly.
“The honourable gentleman,” Mr. Canning says of Mr. Calcraft (March
14, 1817), “attempts to ridicule these proceedings. He is in truth
rather hard to be satisfied on the score of rebellion; to him it is not
sufficient that the town had been summoned [N.B. it had been summoned
by _one_ man], it ought to have been taken; the metropolis should not
merely have been attacked, but in flames. He is so difficult in regard
to proof that he would continue to doubt until all the mischief was not
only certain but irreparable. For my part, however, I am satisfied when
I hear the trumpet of rebellion sounded; I do not think it necessary
to wait the actual onset before I put myself on my guard. I am content
to take my precautions when I see the torch of the incendiary lighted,
without waiting till the Bank and the Mansion House are blazing to the
sky.”
XV.
But if there was much of eloquence, there was more of sophistry,
in these pointed and painted harangues. The designs on foot were
represented as so formidable that they required the utmost rigour to
suppress them; and yet they were the designs of a few, of a very few,
against whom millions were arrayed. These few were to be struck down at
all hazards and by all means, in order that the millions might be in
security. The anti-revolutionary statesman was simply borrowing from
the revolutionary apostle. “What are a few aristocrats,” would Danton
say, “to the safety of a nation? Strike! strike! It is only terror
that can save the Republic!” For such principles, destructive of all
liberty, peace, and order, every just man must entertain the deepest
horror; and the dark shadow of those days still hangs over the party
to whose excesses they are attributable, and obscures this part of the
career of the statesman who defended them.
I do not, however, think that Mr. Canning acted on the cool systematic
calculation by which I do think Lord Castlereagh might have been
guided. Looking at all affairs with the excitable disposition of the
poet and the orator, and having his attention more called by his office
to the affairs of India than to those at home, it is not improbable
that he allowed himself to be carried into the belief of dangers which
the Government he belonged to had in a certain degree created, and in
an enormous degree exaggerated; whilst the manner in which even calm
and sensible men had their heads confused and their judgment biassed
by the alarming reports put in circulation, and the constant arrests
that were taking place, reacted upon the Government itself, and
made it fancy that the fictions reflected from its fear were truths
established by facts. At all events, whatever were the real opinions
and convictions of Mr. Canning, as he was the most eloquent supporter
of the policy in vogue, he gathered round himself the greatest portion
of the unpopularity that attended it. Nor, though he assumed the air of
defying this unpopularity, was he pleased with it.
XVI.
The very bitterness, indeed, which he manifested towards his opponents
at this time, shows that he was ill at ease with himself. Linked
with a set of men whom in general he despised, and by whom he was
in a certain degree mistrusted, and accused, as he well knew, of
accepting this alliance merely for the love of “office,” which the
vulgar made to signify the mere “emoluments of place;”--possessing
a mind, which, elevated by education, was inclined to liberality;
careless of the praise of the fanatics of his own party, and careless
also of the applause of those timorous spirits amongst the nation
with whom he could feel no sympathy;--knowing he was detested by the
great masses of the people, whose applause he could not with his
temperament refrain from coveting;--knowing also that though supported
by the love and admiration of a few able friends, he was confided
in by no great political party, and that even if his duties imposed
on him the necessity of struggling against existing difficulties,
those difficulties might have been avoided or palliated by a more
conciliatory and prudent policy; writhing under all these circumstances
and agitated by all these feelings,--this able, ambitious, and
excitable man may now be seen listening with ears almost greedy of a
quarrel, for reproaches he could retort, and insults he could avenge.
Mr. Hume, not very cautious in these matters, was called to account:
Sir Francis Burdett, who had spoken disrespectfully, was made to
explain; while to the author of an anonymous libel, in which the style
and invectives of “Junius” were copied with doubtful success, was sent
a note, eminently characteristic of the galled feelings and gallant
spirit of the writer:
“SIR,
“I received early in the last week the copy of your pamphlet,
which you, I take for granted, had the attention to have
forwarded to me. Soon after I was informed, on the authority of
your publisher, that you have withdrawn the whole impression
from him, with the view (as was supposed) of suppressing
the publication. I since learn, however, that the pamphlet,
though not sold, is circulated under blank covers. I learn
this from (among others) the gentleman to whom the pamphlet
is industriously attributed, but who has voluntarily and
absolutely denied to me that he has any knowledge of it or its
author.
“To you, sir, whoever you may be, I address myself thus
directly for the purpose of expressing my opinion that _you
are a liar and a slanderer, and want courage only to be an
assassin_. I have only to add that no man knows of my writing
to you, and that I shall maintain the same reserve as long as I
have an expectation of hearing from you in your own name.”
To this letter there was no reply.
XVII.
During the eventful years over which this narrative has been rapidly
gliding, the Heiress to the crown, who had already possessed herself
of the affections of the British people, had expired (it was in Nov.
1817); and in 1820, as the Ministers, fatigued by their laborious
efforts to excite alarm, began to allow the nation to recover its
tranquillity, George III. (two years after his young and blooming
grandchild) died also. The new King’s hatred, and Queen Caroline’s
temper, rendering a more decent and moderate course impossible,
occasioned the unhappy trial which scandalized Europe.
Nor was the question at issue merely a question involving the Queen’s
innocence or guilt. The people, comparatively calm, as well on account
of the recent improvement in trade, as in consequence of the cessation
of that system of conspiracy-making or finding, which had so long
kept them in a state of harassed irritation, were still for the main
part thoroughly disgusted with the exhibition of fear, feebleness,
and violence which, under the name of Lord Liverpool, and through
the influence of Lord Castlereagh, had for the last three years been
displayed. They detested the ministers of the Crown, and they were
alienated from the Crown itself, which had been perpetually arrayed
against them in prosecutions and almost as often stigmatised by defeat.
It was thus that Queen Caroline appeared as a new victim--as another
person to be illegally assailed by the forms of law, and unjustly dealt
with in the name of justice. Besides, she was a woman, and the daughter
of a Royal house, and the mother of that ill-fated princess, whose
early death the nation still deeply mourned. The people, then, took up
her cause as their own, and rallied at once round a new banner against
their old enemies.
On the other hand, the Government, urged by the wounded pride and
uncontrollable anger of the Sovereign, consented to bring the
unfortunate lady he denounced before a public tribunal, and were thus
committed to a desperate career, of which it was impossible to predict
the result.
Mr. Canning had long been the unhappy Queen’s intimate friend; but in
adopting her cause, he must, as we have been showing, have adopted her
party--the party of discontent, the party of reform--a party against
which he had, during the last few years, been fiercely struggling.
Here, as far as the public can judge from the information before it,
lies the only excuse or explanation of his conduct; for it was hardly
sufficient to retire (as he did) from any share in the proceedings
against a friend and a woman, in whose innocence he said that he
believed, when her honour and life were assailed by the most powerful
adversaries, and by charges of the most degrading character.
He refused, it is true, to be her active accuser; but neither was he
her active defender. He remained silent at home or stayed abroad during
the time of the prosecution, and resigned office when, that prosecution
being dropped, the Cabinet had to justify its proceedings.
The following letter to a constituent contains the account he thought
it necessary to give of his conduct:
“Tuddenham, Norfolk, Dec. 22, 1820.
“MY DEAR SIR,
“I left town on Wednesday, a few minutes after I had written
to you, not thinking I should be quite so soon set at liberty
to make you the communication promised in my letter of that
morning. I had hitherto forborne to make the communication,
in order that I might not in any way embarrass others by a
premature disclosure; and I sincerely expected in return due
notice of the time when it might suit them that the disclosure
should be made. I have no doubt that the omission of such
notice has been a mere oversight. I regret it only as it has
prevented me from anticipating with you, and the rest of my
friends at Liverpool, the announcement in a newspaper of an
event in which I know your kind partiality will induce you to
feel a lively interest. The facts stated in the _Courier_ of
Wednesday evening, are stated in substance correctly. I have
resigned my office. My motive for separating myself from the
Government (however reluctantly at a conjuncture like the
present) is to be found solely in the proceedings and pending
discussions respecting the Queen. There is (as the _Courier_
justly assumes) but this one point of difference between
my colleagues and myself. Those who may have done me the
honour to observe my conduct in this unhappy affair from the
beginning, will recollect that on the first occasion on which
it was brought forward in the House of Commons, I declared
my determination to take as little part as possible in any
subsequent stage of the proceedings. The declaration was made
advisedly. It was made, not only after full communication
with my colleagues, but as an alternative suggested on their
part for my then retirement from the Administration. So long
as there was a hope of amicable adjustment, my continuance in
the Administration might possibly be advantageous; that hope
was finally extinguished by the failure of Mr. Wilberforce’s
address. On the same day on which the Queen’s answer to that
address was received by the House of Commons, I asked an
audience of the King, and at that audience (which I obtained
the following day) after respectfully repeating to his Majesty
the declaration which I had made a fortnight before in the
House of Commons, and stating the impossibility of my departing
from it, I felt it my duty humbly to lay at his Majesty’s feet
the tender of my resignation. The King, with a generosity which
I can never sufficiently acknowledge, commanded me to remain in
his service, abstaining as completely as I might think fit from
any share in the proceedings respecting the Queen, and gave
me full authority to plead his Majesty’s express command for
so continuing in office. No occasion subsequently occurred in
Parliament (at least no adequate occasion) for availing myself
of the use of this authority, and I should have thought myself
inexcusable in seeking an occasion for the purpose; but from
the moment of my receiving his Majesty’s gracious commands, I
abstained entirely from all interference on the subject of the
Queen’s affairs. I did not attend any meetings of the Cabinet
upon that subject; I had no share whatever in preparing or
approving the Bill of Pains and Penalties. I was (as you know)
absent from England during the whole progress of the bill, and
returned only after it had been withdrawn.
“The new state in which I found the proceedings upon my return
to England, required the most serious consideration; it was one
to which I could not conceive the King’s command in June to be
applicable. For a minister to absent himself altogether from
the expected discussions in the House of Commons, intermixed
as they were likely to be with the general business of the
session, appeared to me to be quite impossible. To be present
as a minister, taking no part in these discussions, could only
be productive of embarrassment to myself, and of perplexity to
my colleagues; to take any part in them was now, as always, out
of the question.
“From these difficulties I saw no remedy except in the humble
but earnest renewal to my Sovereign of the tender of my
resignation, which has been as graciously accepted, as it was
in the former instance indulgently declined.
“If some weeks have elapsed since my return to England, before
I could arrive at this practical result, the interval has been
chiefly employed in reconciling, or endeavouring to reconcile,
my colleagues to a step taken by me in a spirit of the most
perfect amity, and tending (in my judgment) as much to their
relief as to my own.
“It remains for me only to add that having purchased, by the
surrender of my office, the liberty of continuing to act
in consistency with my original declaration, it is now my
intention (but an intention perfectly gratuitous, and one which
I hold myself completely free to vary, if I shall at any time
see occasion for so doing) to be absent from England again
until the agitation of this calamitous affair shall be at an
end.
“I am, Sir, &c.,
“GEORGE CANNING.”
Thus in the years 1821-22, Mr. Canning took little part in the business
of the House of Commons, residing occasionally near Bordeaux or in
Paris.
He came to England, however, to speak on Mr. Plunkett’s motion for a
committee to consider the Catholic claims (February 28, 1821), and in
1822 also he made two memorable speeches--one on Lord John Russell’s
motion for Parliamentary Reform, and another in support of his own
proposition to admit Catholic peers into the House of Lords.
These last speeches were made in the expectancy of his speedy departure
from England; the Directors of the East India Company, in testimony
of their appreciation of the zeal and intelligence with which he had
discharged his duties as President of the Board of Control, having
selected him as Governor-General of India, a situation which he had
accepted.
PART III.
FROM DEATH OF LORD LONDONDERRY TO PORTUGUESE EXPEDITION.
Lord Castlereagh’s death.--Mr. Canning’s appointment as
Foreign Secretary.--State of affairs.--Opposition he
encountered.--Policy as to Spain and South America.--Commencing
popularity in the country, and in the House of
Commons.--Affairs of Portugal and Brazil.--Recognition of
Brazilian empire.--Constitution taken by Sir Charles Stuart to
Portugal,--Defence of Portugal against Spanish treachery and
aggression.--Review of policy pursued thus far as a whole.
I.
At this critical moment Lord Castlereagh, who had now succeeded to
the title of Lord Londonderry, worn out by a long-continued series
of struggles with the popular passions--placed in a false position
by the manner in which the great military powers had at Troppau
and Laybach announced principles which no English statesman could
ever sanction,--too high-spirited to endure defeat, and without the
ability requisite for forming and carrying on any policy that might be
triumphant,--irritated, overworked, and about to depart for Verona with
the intention of remonstrating against acts which he had been unable to
prevent,--having lost all that calm and firmness with which his proud
but cheerful nature was generally armed,--and overpowered at last by
an infamous conspiracy to extort money, with the threat that he should
otherwise be charged with a disgraceful and dishonouring offence--put
an end to his existence.
Fate looked darkly on the Tory party. Ever since 1817, it had excited
one half of the community by fear, as a means of governing the other
half by force. But the machinery of this system was now pretty well
used up. Moreover the result of Queen Caroline’s trial was a staggering
blow to those who had been its advisers; and though this unhappy and
foolish lady did all she could to destroy the prestige which had once
surrounded her--and it was only unexpected decease that rescued her
from approaching contempt--even her death gave the authorities a new
opportunity of injuring themselves by an idle and offensive conflict
with her hearse.
Meanwhile the affairs in the Peninsula were becoming more and more
obscured, whilst through the clouds which seemed everywhere gathering,
some thought they could perceive the fatal hour in which a terrible
despotism and an ignorant and equally terrible democracy were to
dispute for the mastery of the world. In France the Bourbons trembled
on their throne, and petty cabals and paltry conflicts amongst
themselves rendered their rule at once violent, feeble, and uncertain.
The volcanic soil of Italy was covered with ashes from a recent
conflagration--some embers might yet be seen alive. Over the whole of
Germany reigned a dreamy discontent which any accident might convert
into a practical revolution.
II.
What part could the baffled and unpopular Ministers of England take
amidst such a state of things as I have been describing? To the
advocacy of democratic principles they were of course opposed. With
the advocates of absolute power they dared not, and perhaps did not
feel disposed to, side. Neutrality was their natural wish, since to be
neutral required no effort and demanded no declaration of opinion. But
it is only the strong who can be really neutral; and the Government
of the day was too conscious of weakness to hold with confidence the
position which, if powerful, it could have preserved with dignity.
Such being the miserable condition of the British cabinet when Lord
Londonderry was alive, it became yet more contemptible on losing
that statesman’s energy and resolution. Mr. Canning was its evident
resource. Yet the wish to obtain Mr. Canning’s services was by no
means general amongst those in power, for the ministry was divided
into two sections: one, hostile to Catholic Emancipation, to any
change in, and almost any modification of, our long-standing system
of high duties and commercial protection, and hostile also to all
those efforts in favour of constitutional liberty which had lately
agitated the Continent; the other, which, though opposed to any
constitutional change that tended to increase the democratic element
in our institutions, was still favourable to Catholic Emancipation as
a means of conciliating the large majority of the Irish people--to the
development of the principles of Free Trade, as a means of augmenting
our national wealth--and to the spread of our political opinions, under
the idea that we should thus be extending our commercial, moral, and
political power.
These two parties, forced to combine under the common battle-cry of “no
parliamentary reform,”--a reform which both opposed (in order to get
a parliamentary majority for their united force)--were nevertheless
jealous of each other, and in constant struggle for the predominant
influence. Mr. Canning out of office, and away in India, there could
be no doubt that the more Conservative section of the Administration
would occupy the highest ground; Mr. Canning not going to India, and
coming into office, the more liberal party, of which he was universally
considered the chief, might overtop its rival. Lord Liverpool, however,
was himself in a peculiar position. He agreed with Mr. Canning’s
opponents as to the Catholic Emancipation question, but with Mr.
Canning on all other questions. His policy, therefore, was to rule a
pretty equally balanced cabinet, and not to have one half too strong
for the other. With this object he had lately given office to two or
three followers of Lord Grenville, who, though himself retired from
affairs, had still a party favourable to Catholic Emancipation, and
hostile to constitutional innovations. For the same reason he now
insisted on the necessity of offering the Secretaryship of Foreign
Affairs to Mr. Canning, and impressed his opinions on this subject so
strongly on the Duke of Wellington, that his Grace, though he had some
prejudices of his own to conquer, undertook to vanquish those of his
Majesty, against Mr. Canning’s appointment. A lady who was an intimate
friend of George IV., and at that moment of the Duke also, and who was
then staying at Brighton, told me that the Duke went down to Brighton,
and held an interview with the King, and she related to me parts of a
conversation which, according to her, took place on this occasion.
“Good God! Arthur, you don’t mean to propose that fellow to me as
Secretary for Foreign Affairs; it is impossible! I said, on my honour
as a gentleman, he should never be one of my ministers again. You hear,
Arthur, on my honour as a gentleman. I am sure you will agree with me,
that I can’t do what I said on my honour as a gentleman I would not do.”
“Pardon me, Sire, I don’t agree with you at all; your Majesty is not a
gentleman.”
The King started.
“Your Majesty, I say,” continued the imperturbable soldier, “is not a
gentleman, but the Sovereign of England, with duties to your people far
above any to yourself; and these duties render it imperative that you
should at this time employ the abilities of Mr. Canning.”
“Well!” drawing a long breath, “if I must, I must,” was finally the
King’s reply.[121]
III.
Mr. Canning thus entered the Cabinet; and under ordinary circumstances
his doing so at such a crisis would have been hailed with general
satisfaction. It so happened, however, that some time had elapsed
between the death of Lord Castlereagh and any offer to his successor;
and during this interval, Mr. Canning, then on the verge of departure
for the East, made a speech at Liverpool, which, from its remarkable
moderation, was considered by many as the manifestation of a wish to
purchase place by a sacrifice of opinion. The words most objected to
were these:
“Gentlemen, if I were remaining in this country, and continuing to take
my part in Parliament, I should continue, in respect to the Catholic
Question, to walk in the same direction that I have hitherto done. But
I think (and as I may not elsewhere have an opportunity of expressing
this opinion, I am desirous of expressing it here)--I think that
after the experience of a fruitless struggle for more than ten years,
I should, as an individual (speaking for none but myself, and not
knowing whether I carry any other person’s opinion with me) be induced
henceforth, or perhaps after one more general trial, to seek upon that
question a _liberal compromise_.” Thus, when instead of going to India
the Governor-General, already named, came into office at home, it was
said at once that he had done so on a _compromise_.
The accusation was false, but there was some appearance of its being
true, and those amongst the Opposition who believed it, were the
more enraged, since they thought that if the Ministry had not been
strengthened by the new Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs, it
could not have sustained itself, in which case they themselves would
have been called to power.
The speeches made against Mr. Canning were consequently of the
bitterest kind. One, by Lord Folkestone, on a motion for the repeal of
the Foreign Enlistment Bill, delivered with extraordinary vehemence,
accused him of truckling to France.
“Sir,” said Mr. Canning, in reply, “I will not follow the noble
lord through a speech of which it would be impossible to convey the
impression by a mere repetition of language. The Lacedæmonians,
with the desire of deterring their children from the vice of
intoxication, used occasionally to expose their slaves in a state
of disgusting inebriety. But, sir, there is a moral as well as a
physical intoxication; and never before did I behold so complete a
personification of the character which I have somewhere seen described
as _exhibiting the contortions of the sibyl without her inspiration_.
I will not on this occasion reply to the noble lord’s speech, being
of opinion that this is not a fit opportunity for entering into the
discussion it would provoke; but let it not be supposed that I shrink
from the noble lord; for he may believe me when I say that however I
may have truckled to France, I will never truckle to him.”
IV.
This speech was delivered April 16, 1823. On the 17th another important
discussion occurred in Parliament. Mr. Plunkett, who had joined the
Administration with Mr. Canning, bringing forward on that day the
claims of the Catholics, as a sort of token that he and those who
thought with him had not, on taking office, abandoned the question
of which they had so long been the most eminent supporters,--Sir
Francis Burdett accused both the Attorney-General for Ireland and the
Secretary for Foreign Affairs of seeking to make an idle parade of fine
sentiments, which they knew would be practically useless. Mr. Canning
defended himself, and, as he sat down, Mr. Brougham rose:
“If,” said he, “the other ministers had taken example by the
single-hearted, plain, manly, and upright conduct of the right
honourable Secretary for the Home Department (Mr. Peel), who has
always been on the same side on this question, never swerving from
his opinions, but standing uniformly up and stating them--who had
never taken office on a secret understanding to abandon the question
in substance while he contrived to sustain it in words--whose mouth,
heart, and conduct have always been in unison; if such had been the
conduct of all the friends of emancipation, I should not have found
myself in a state of despair with regard to the Catholic claims. Let
the conduct of the Attorney-General for Ireland (Mr. Plunkett) have
been what it might--let him have deviated from his former professions
or not--still, if the Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs had only
come forward at this critical moment, when the point was whether he
should go to India into honourable exile, or take office in England
and not submit to his sentence of transportation, but be condemned to
hard labour in his own country--doomed to the disquiet of a divided
council, sitting with his enemies, and pitied by his friends, with his
hands chained and tied down on all those lines of operation which his
own sentiments and wishes would have led him to adopt--if, at that
critical moment, when his fate depended on Lord Chancellor Eldon, and
on his sentiments with respect to the Catholic cause--if, at that
critical moment, he who said the other night that he would not truckle
to a noble lord, but who then exhibited the most incredible specimen of
monstrous truckling for the purpose of obtaining office that the whole
history of political tergiversation could furnish.…”
At these words, Mr. Canning, labouring to conceal emotion which his
countenance had long betrayed, started up, and, in a calm voice, with
his eye fixed on Mr. Brougham, said, “Sir, I rise to say that that is
false.” A dead silence of some minutes ensued; the Speaker interfered;
neither party would retract, and both gentlemen were ordered into
custody; but at last the matter was arranged through Sir R. Wilson’s
mediation.
V.
Without going into many details, I have thus said enough to show
that Mr. Canning had, in his new post, to contend--first, against
the disfavour of the Crown; secondly, against the dislike, jealousy,
and suspicion of a large portion of his colleagues; thirdly, against
the bitterest hostility of the most able and eloquent amongst his
parliamentary opponents.
It is necessary to take into consideration all these difficulties
in order to appreciate the rare abilities, the adroit adaptation of
means to ends, the clever profiting by times and occasions, the bold
bearing-up against powerful antagonists, the conquest over personal
antipathies, which in a few years placed England--humbled to the
lowest degree when Lord Castlereagh expired--in the highest position
she ever occupied since the days of Lord Chatham; and, at the same
time, ended by making the most unpopular man with the nation, and the
most distasteful minister to the Sovereign, the people’s idol and the
monarch’s favourite.
I have asserted that England was never in a more humbled position than
at the death of Lord Castlereagh. I had myself the opportunity of
seeing this illustrated in a private and confidential correspondence
between Prince Metternich and a distinguished person with whom he was
on terms of great intimacy, and to whom he wrote without reserve;--a
correspondence in which the Prince, when alluding to our great warrior,
who represented England at the Congress of Verona, spoke of him as
“the great Baby,” and alluded to the power and influence of England as
things past and gone.
It was, in fact, too true that all memory of the long efforts of twenty
years, eventually successful in liberating Europe, had wholly lapsed
from the minds of those military potentates, who having during war
experienced every variety of defeat, appeared at the conclusion of
peace to have recovered unbounded confidence in their arms.
The institutions which had nourished the pride and valour to which
we had owed our victories, were daily denounced by the sovereigns in
whose cause we had fought; and every new expression of opinion that
came to us from the Continent, manifested more and more that Waterloo
was forgotten by every nation but the French. Nothing, in short, was
wanting to complete our degradation after the false and impudent
conduct of M. de Villèle, but its disrespectful avowal; and painful and
humiliating must have been the sentiments of an English statesman, when
he read the speech of the French minister in the Chamber of Deputies,
and found him boast of having amused our Government by misrepresenting
the force on the Spanish frontier as merely a _cordon sanitaire_, until
it was made to act as _army of invasion_.
VI.
The ground, however, which the sovereigns forming the Holy Alliance had
now chosen for fighting the battle of principles, was not well selected
by them for the conflict.
During the despotism of Ferdinand, it was never forgotten in this
country, that those with whom he filled his prisons, those whose
blood he shed, those of whose hopeless exile he was the cause, had
fought side by side with our own gallant soldiers; were the zealous
and valiant patriots who had delivered the land from which they were
driven, and re-established the dynasty which their tyrant disgraced.
Many, then, who disapproved of the new Spanish constitution, were
disposed to excuse the excesses of freedom as the almost natural
reaction from the abuses of absolute power.
Nor was this all. There has always been a strong party in England
justly in favour of a good understanding with the French nation. On
such an understanding is based that policy of peace which Walpole
and Fox judiciously advocated--the first more fortunately and more
opportunely than the last. But as no policy should ever be carried
to the extreme, we have on the other hand to consider that the only
serious danger menacing to England is the undue aggrandisement of
France. Her proximity, her warlike spirit, her constant thirst for
glory and territory, the great military and naval armaments at her
disposal, the supremacy amongst nations which she is in the habit of
affecting, are all, at certain times, threatening to our interests and
wounding to our pride; and when the French nation, with the tendency
which she has always manifested to spread her opinions, professes
exaggerated doctrines, whether in favour of democracy or despotism,
the spirit of conquest and proselytism combined with power makes her
equally menacing to our institutions and to our independence. Her
predominance in Spain, moreover, which unites so many ports to those
of France--ports in which, as we learnt from Napoleon I., armaments
can be fitted out, and from which expeditions can be sent against our
possessions in the Mediterranean, or our empire in the Channel, or
against Egypt, on the high road to our Indian dominions, has always
been regarded by English statesmen with a rational disquietude, and on
various occasions resisted with boldness, perseverance, and success;
nor did it matter to us whether it was the white flag or the tricolour
which crossed the Bridassoa when either was to be considered the symbol
of ambition and injustice.
VII.
Thus, Spain became, not inauspiciously, the spot on which a liberal
English minister had to confront the despotic governments of the
Continent. But for war on account of Spain, England was not prepared;
and, indeed, the treachery which we knew existed in the Spanish
counsels, rendered war on account of that divided country out of the
question. The only remaining means of opposition was protestation,
and Mr. Canning at once protested against the act of aggression which
France was committing, and against the principles put forth in its
justification. The mode of doing this was rendered easy by the speech
from the French throne, which was inexplicable, except as a bold
assertion of the divine rights of kings; and for that slavish doctrine
Mr. Canning, who, whichever side he took, was not very guarded in his
expressions, roundly stated that “he felt disgust and abhorrence.”
The gauntlet of Legitimacy having been thus thrown down, and being in
this manner taken up, it only remained to conduct the contest.
Caution was necessary in the selection of an opportunity where a stand
should be made. Boldness was also necessary in order to make that stand
without fear or hesitation, when the fitting occasion arrived.
* * * * *
France, therefore, was permitted to overrun the Spanish territory
without resistance. But Mr. Canning declared that, whilst England
adopted, thus far, a passive attitude, she could not permit the
permanent occupation of Spain, or any act of aggression against
Portugal. At the same time he alluded to the recognition of the
revolted provinces in South America, which provinces France was
expecting to gain in compensation for her expenses, as an event merely
dependent upon time, and protested against any seizure by France, or
any cession by Spain of possessions which had _in fact_ established
their independence. In these expressions were shadowed out the whole
of that course subsequently developed. They were little noticed, it
is true, at the time, because they did not interfere with the plan of
the moment, viz., the destruction of a constitutional government at
Madrid; but they became a text to which our Minister could subsequently
refer as a proof of the frankness and consistency of the policy that
from the commencement of the French campaign he had been pursuing. No
one, however, understood better than the statesman who had resolved on
this policy, that to be powerful abroad you must be popular at home.
Thus at the close of the session in which he had denounced the absolute
doctrines of the French Legitimists, we see him passing through the
great mercantile and manufacturing towns, and endeavouring to excite
amidst the large and intelligent masses of those towns an enthusiasm
for his talents, and that attachment to his person, which genius, when
it comes into contact with the people, rarely fails to inspire.
VIII.
On one of these occasions it was that he delivered the memorable
speech, meant to resound throughout Europe, and spoken with exquisite
propriety in sight of the docks at Plymouth.
“Our ultimate object, no doubt, is the peace of the world, but let it
not be said that we cultivate it either because we fear, or because
we are unprepared for war. On the contrary, if eight months ago the
Government did not proclaim that this country was prepared for war,
this was from causes far other than those produced by fear; and if war
should at last unfortunately be necessary, every intervening month of
peace that has since passed has but made us so much the more capable
of warlike exertion. The resources created by peace are indeed the
means of war. In cherishing these resources, we but accumulate these
means. Our present repose is no more a proof of incapability to act,
than the state of inertness and inactivity in which I have seen those
mighty masses that float on the waters above your town, is a proof that
they are devoid of strength, and incapable of being fitted for action.
_You well know, gentlemen, how soon one of those stupendous masses,
now reposing on their shadows in perfect stillness--how soon upon any
call of patriotism, or of necessity, it would assume the likeness of
an animated thing, instinct with life and motion; how soon it would
ruffle, as it were, its swelling plumage; how quickly it would put
forth all its beauty and its bravery; collect its scattered elements
of strength, and awaken its dormant thunder! Such as is one of those
magnificent machines when springing from inaction into a display of
its might, such is England herself; while apparently passionless and
motionless, she silently concentrates the power to be put forth on an
adequate occasion._”
* * * * *
Luckily for Mr. Canning, the circumstances of the country in 1824
enabled him to maintain and increase that popularity which he was
desirous to acquire. Trade had begun to thrive, the revenue to
increase, taxation to diminish; nor were these facts merely valuable
in themselves, they were also valuable in affording a facility for
entering more freely upon that large and comprehensive system of
commerce which was the best adapted to a country that combined great
maritime power with great manufacturing capacity.
Besides, by entering frankly upon this system, Mr. Canning was giving
strength to one of those links which now began to unite him to the
Opposition, and thus to rally round him by degrees nearly the whole
liberal force of the House of Commons. Already, indeed, many of his
opponents had softened in their tone, and Sir James Mackintosh (June
25, 1824), referring to papers that had been laid before Parliament,
passed the highest eulogy on the conduct which the Foreign Secretary
was adopting in respect to the South American question.
IX.
The time is now arrived for speaking of that question. From the first
moment that the intentions of the French government towards Spain were
known, Mr. Canning, as it has been seen, hinted at the recognition of
the Spanish colonies, and protested against any proceeding which either
directly or indirectly should bring them under the authority of France.
A variety of projects,--amongst which that of holding a congress of
the Great Powers at Paris, for the purpose of considering how it might
be most expedient to assist Spain in adjusting her differences with
the revolted colonies, was the most significant,--all tended to show
the necessity of some immediate step for placing beyond dispute the
condition of those colonies.
By a series of measures, each in advance of the preceding one, none
going so far as to excite any burst of resentment, Mr. Canning went on
gradually towards the ultimate decision he had in view.
A warning to Spain that unless she forthwith effected an accommodation
with her former subjects, their independence would be recognised, was
given and repeated; a warning to France that the cession to any other
power of the Spanish possessions in America would not be allowed, had
also been once given, and was now formally renewed. The project of
interfering for their conquest with foreign troops, whatever might be
decided by any congress, was boldly forbidden. Consuls had already
been appointed to attend to the interests of British commerce in those
parts, and commissioners had been sent out to Columbia and Mexico
(the emancipation of Buenos Ayres was undisputed) to report on their
condition. The memorable declaration of the United States, frequently
referred to since--as the Munroe Doctrine,--and to which our foreign
minister, by his communications with the United States Envoy in London,
had in no small degree contributed;--a declaration to the effect that
the United States would not see with indifference the attempt of any
European power to establish itself on the American continent, was a
positive assurance of the only alliance that might be important,
should England have to contend by force of arms against a French and
Spanish expedition.
At last, strong in popularity at home, having by previous measures,
difficult to be opposed, lessened the shock that might have been
produced abroad, Mr. Canning put the seal to this portion of his plans,
and announced his recognition of three of the most powerful of the new
republics.
This recognition, however justifiable on its proper merits, is not
merely to be considered on such isolated grounds. It formed a part,
and an important part, of European policy; it altered the position
in which this country stood towards those powers who had declared
their principles to be in opposition to our own. Now it was the turn
of Austria, Prussia, and Russia to _remonstrate_, and to have their
_remonstrances_ treated as those of England had been by them on former
occasions. Thus, the part which Great Britain had hitherto played
was for the first time reversed; and her character, which at each
late congress had been sinking lower and lower in the scale of public
opinion, rose at once in the balance. This is the first important epoch
in Mr. Canning’s foreign administration.
X.
The affairs of Portugal next demand attention. That country, from the
commencement of the new conflict in the Peninsula, had been the scene
of French intrigues for the purpose of destroying English interests;
and of court cabals, with the object of favouring Don Miguel’s
pretensions. The Queen, a violent and profligate old woman, who had
never kept any terms with her passions, countenanced the most desperate
schemes; and King John VI., a weak but not unamiable monarch, was even
obliged on one occasion to seek safety on board a British frigate.
The defeat of the conspiracy which occasioned this alarm banished
Don Miguel; but M. Subserra, the King’s minister and favourite, and
a mere tool in the hands of France, still remained; so that although
the Portuguese government never took any open part against the Spanish
Cortes, the King would never concede a constitution to his people
(this being very strenuously opposed by the French Government and
its allies), nor unite himself cordially with England, by giving Lord
Beresford the command of his army, and conferring on M. Palmella the
chief influence in his cabinet. Our situation in respect to Portugal
was moreover complicated by the state of Brazil. Don Pedro, King
John’s eldest son, had been left Regent in that colony by his father,
when the latter returned to his more ancient dominions. The King’s
secret instructions were that the Prince should adopt any course that
circumstances might render necessary, rather than allow so important a
possession to pass from the family of Braganza. But the spirit of the
Brazilians, who from the long residence of their monarch amongst them
had for some time enjoyed the privileges of a Metropolitan State, would
not submit to a renewal of their old dependence on the mother country;
and the Regent was forced, in obedience to the injunctions just
mentioned, to place himself at the head of a revolt, and to become,
under the title of “Emperor,” sovereign of a new kingdom.
It may be doubtful whether Don Pedro’s father was quite pleased at
an act of which (whatever might be his commands in the case of a
supposed contingency) it might always have been difficult to prove the
necessity by formal and unpalatable explanations; but the Portuguese
in general were at all events far more violent than their monarch,
and would at once have attempted the conquest of their rebellious but
distant province if they had possessed any of the means requisite for
such an undertaking. Mr. Canning, on the other hand, not only saw
that Portugal, for her own sake, should endeavour to enter into some
arrangement, admitting a fact which it was impossible to alter; he
was also obliged, in consequence of the policy which he was elsewhere
pursuing, to endeavour to obtain for Brazil an independent position.
It became desirable, then, on every account, to settle as soon as
possible the differences between the colony and the mother country;
and, having vainly attempted to do this in other ways, it was resolved
at last, as the best and promptest course, to send some superior
Diplomatist to Lisbon, who, if he succeeded in obtaining the consent
of the Portuguese government to a moderate plan of accommodation,
might proceed at once to Rio Janeiro, and urge Don Pedro and his
government to accept it. Sir Charles Stuart (afterwards Lord Stuart de
Rothsay), was selected for the double mission, and succeeded, after
some difficulty, in accomplishing its object. He then, however, being
in Brazil, undertook the arrangement of a commercial treaty between the
newly emancipated colony and Great Britain, and some singular errors
into which he fell delaying the completion of his business, he was
still at Rio when King John died.
XI.
The Emperor of Brazil, Don Pedro, then became King of Portugal; and
having to decide on the relinquishment of one of these kingdoms, it
seeming impossible to keep them permanently united, he assumed that,
in abdicating the throne of Portugal, he had the right of dictating
the method and terms of his abdication. He proposed, then, first, to
take upon himself the crown to which he had succeeded; secondly, in
his capacity of sovereign of Portugal, to give a constitution to the
Portuguese; thirdly, if that constitution were accepted, and that Don
Miguel, his brother, were willing to espouse Donna Maria, his (Don
Pedro’s) daughter, to place the ancient sceptre of Portugal in that
daughter’s hands.
The apparent countenance of Great Britain, however obtained, was no
doubt of consequence to the success of this project, and Sir Charles
Stuart was prevailed upon to accept the title of Portuguese ambassador,
and in such capacity to be the bearer of the new constitutional
charter to Portugal. He thus, it is true, acted without Mr. Canning’s
authority, for the case was one which could hardly have been foreseen,
and it may be doubted whether his conduct was well advised; but still
no experienced Diplomatist would have taken upon himself so important
a part as Sir Charles Stuart assumed, unless he had pretty fair
reasons to suppose that he was doing that which would be agreeable to
his chief; and when Mr. Canning gave his subsequent sanction to Sir
Charles’s conduct, by declaring in a despatch, dated July 12, 1826,
that the King entirely approved of the ambassador’s having consented
(under the peculiar circumstances of his situation in Brazil) to be
the bearer of the Emperor’s decrees to Lisbon, the world in general
considered the whole affair, as in fact it had become, the arrangement
of Great Britain.
In this manner did we appear as having recognised the South American
Republics, as having arranged the separation and independence of the
great Portuguese colony; and, finally, as having carried a constitution
into Portugal itself. All the Powers leagued in favour of despotism,
protesting at this time against the recognition of any colony, and
France being then as their deputed missionary in Spain, for the express
purpose of putting down a constitution in that country.
This is the second memorable epoch in Mr. Canning’s foreign policy--the
second period in that diplomatic war which at Troppau and Verona
had been announced, and which when the Duc d’Angoulême crossed the
Pyrenees, had been undertaken against Liberal opinions.
XII.
If our government at last stood in a position worthy of the strength
and the intellect of the nation it represented, that position was,
nevertheless, one that required for its maintenance the nicest
tempering of dignity with forbearance; no offence was to be heedlessly
given, none timidly submitted to. Spain and Portugal, long jealous
and hostile, were marshalled under two hostile and jarring opinions.
The most powerful, backed by friendly and kindred armies, was likely
to invade the weaker; and that weaker we were bound to defend by an
indissoluble alliance.
The first step manifesting the feelings of King Ferdinand’s government
was a refusal to recognise the Portuguese Regency established at King
John’s death; but matters were certain not to stop here. Portuguese
deserters were soon received in Spain, and allowed to arm; nay, were
furnished with arms by Spanish authority, for the purpose of being sent
back as invaders into their native country. Even Spanish troops, in
more than one instance, hostilely entered Portugal, while the Spanish
ministry scrupled at no falsehoods that might stretch a flimsy covering
over their deceitful assurances and unfriendly designs.
Things were in this state, peace rested upon these hollow and uncertain
foundations, when Mr. Canning received at the same time the official
news that the rebel troops which had been organised in Spain were
marching upon Lisbon; and the most solemn declarations from Spain
herself that these very troops should be dispersed, and their chief
arrested. The crisis for action seemed now to have arrived; for England
was bound, as I have said, by treaty, to defend Portugal against a
foreign power, and a foreign power was in this instance clearly, though
meanly, indirectly, and treacherously assailing her. To shrink from
the dangerous obligation to which we stood pledged, or even to appear
so to shrink, was to relinquish that hold upon public opinion, both at
home and abroad, which hold we had at last obtained, and to abandon the
moral power which, if a contest did arise, would be the main portion
of our strength. On the other hand, to comply with the request of
the Portuguese government for succour (that request was now formally
made), and to send a British force to Portugal was, no doubt, an event
that might be the commencement of a general war. Of all policies, a
hesitating, shuffling policy would have been the worst. Had it been
adopted, Spain, or those who then governed Spain, would have proceeded
to more violent and irremediable acts--acts to which we must have
submitted with the grossest dishonour, or resented with the smallest
chances of success.
XIII.
At this moment, 12th December, 1826, Mr. Canning came down to the House
of Commons, his fine eye kindling with a sense of the magnitude of the
transactions in which he was called upon to play so important a part;
and having described the circumstances in which England was placed, and
the obligations to which she was pledged, stated the manner in which
the duty of the English government had been fulfilled:
“I understand, indeed, that in some quarters it has been imputed to
his Majesty’s ministers that an extraordinary delay intervened between
the taking up the determination to give assistance to Portugal and the
carrying of that determination into effect. But how stands the fact?
On Sunday, the 3rd of this month, we received from the Portuguese
ambassador a direct and formal demand of assistance against a hostile
aggression from Spain. Our answer was, that although rumours had
reached us through France of this event, his Majesty’s government had
not that accurate information--that official and precise intelligence
of facts on which it could properly found an application to Parliament.
It was only on last Friday night that this precise information
arrived--on Saturday his Majesty’s confidential servants came to a
decision. On Sunday that decision received the sanction of his Majesty;
on Monday it was communicated to both Houses of Parliament; and this
day, sir, at this hour in which I have the honour of addressing you,
the troops are on their march for embarkation.”
This passage possesses all the qualities of oratory, and could hardly
have been delivered without exciting a burst of applause. So again,
when the Minister, his voice swelling, his arm outstretched, and his
face turned towards the benches where sat the representatives of the
great monarchs who, but a short time before, derided our power and
denounced our principles, said, “We go to plant the standard of England
on the _well-known heights_ of Lisbon. Where that standard is planted,
foreign dominion _shall not come_,” a thrill ran through the assembly
at these simple but ominous words. My conviction, indeed, was that this
speech must throughout have produced as great an effect in delivery as
it does, even now, in reading; but I was talking the other day with a
friend who, then being a Westminster boy, was present at the debate;
and he told me I was mistaken, and that with the exception of one or
two passages such as those I have cited, there was a want of that
elasticity and flow which distinguished Mr. Canning’s happier efforts.
It is probable that not having had time, amidst the business which
the step he was taking had created, to prepare himself sufficiently,
he had the air of being over-prepared, and, according to my friend,
only rose to his full height as an orator, when he made that famous
allusion to the position which England then held between conflicting
principles, like Œolus between conflicting winds; and when again, in
reply, defending the course he had adopted during the recent French
expedition, he thus elevated his hearers to a conception of the
grandeur of his views, and the mingled prudence and audacity of his
conduct. “If France occupied Spain, was it necessary, in order to avoid
the consequences of that occupation, that we should blockade Cadiz? No:
I looked another way; I sought the materials of occupation in another
hemisphere. Contemplating Spain such as her ancestors had known her,
I resolved that, if France had Spain, it should not be Spain with the
Indies; I called the New World into existence to redress the balance of
the old.”
XIV.
But the Minister of Foreign Affairs displayed talents far beyond those
of the mere orator on this occasion. He took a step which was certain
to incur the displeasure and excite the open hostility of a powerful
party throughout Europe. Many who might have felt themselves obliged by
honour to take this step would have done so with a timid and downcast
air, endeavouring by an affectation of humanity to deprecate the
anger of the high personages they were offending. Such men, exciting
no sympathy, creating and maintaining no allies, encouraging the
attacks and justifying the insults of all enemies, would have placed
their country in a false and pitiful position, where, powerless and
compromised, she would have stood before her opponents, exposed by
her advance, tempting by her weakness. But the sagacious know that a
bold game must be played boldly, and that the great art of moderating
opponents consists in gaining friends.
* * * * *
Mr. Canning, then, neither flinched nor faltered. In venturing upon
a measure which aroused the anger of so many powerful foes, he made
those foes aware that if we were assailed because, in fulfilment of
treaties, we marched to the defence of a country which was attacked on
account of its liberal institutions, England would gather beneath her
standard all those who loved liberty throughout Europe. Our country was
on the verge of a contest with the most potent sovereigns. Our minister
neither provoked nor quailed before those sovereigns, but plainly told
them, that if such a contest did arise, it would be a contest in which
many of the governments eager to provoke it might expect to find, side
by side with our soldiers, not a few of their own people--a contest in
which, were Englishmen forced to take a part, they would not shrink
from taking the part that befitted the brave and free descendants of
men who had suffered for their religion at the stake, and adjudged
their monarch to the scaffold.
XV.
British troops, then, were at last sent in aid of Portugal; no other
troops opposed them; the expedition was successful; and from that
moment Mr. Canning was pointed to as the first statesman of his time;
and Great Britain--without having excited war or produced revolutions,
following a course conformable to her interests, her history, and her
character, backed by the sympathy of the free, and guarded by the
reverence and affection of the intelligent; having shed no blood,
having exhausted no treasure, having never uttered a word that our
nation did not echo, nor shrunk from supporting a word that had been
uttered--stood before the world in a yet more exalted and noble
situation than even at that moment when Napoleon fled from Waterloo,
and the British drum was beating in the streets of Paris.
This is the third epoch in Mr. Canning’s conflict with the crusaders
against constitutional principles. I have described the measures by
which that conflict had been supported. It would be difficult to
point out any stronger measures that a country, placed in similar
circumstances, could have taken. But Mr. Canning, acting with force and
spirit, had acted without exaggeration. He had not said, “I will wage
war with certain opinions;” he had not told the sovereigns of Troppau,
Laybach, and Verona, “Because you commit aggression and injustice,
I will do the same; because you enter into a war against Liberal
governments, I will forthwith arm the people of my country against all
governments of a despotic nature.”
Representing a state which did not wish to give the law, but which
would not receive it, he neither cringed nor threatened. “Publish what
doctrines and take what course you may,” was the language of England’s
great statesman, “I will shape my way according to the interests and
treaties of my country with equal independence.”
With such language the Spanish colonies were recognised, because
Spain could be no longer responsible for their conduct; because
France maintained herself in Spain under the hope that those
colonies would furnish an indemnity for the money she had spent in
re-establishing despotism in Spain itself; because England, at the head
of constitutional governments, found it necessary to check the moral
influence of the Holy Alliance, at the head of absolute governments.
Thus the separation of Brazil from Portugal was negotiated, since the
struggle between the mother country and her ancient but emancipated
possession, was unfavourable to British commerce, embarrassing to
British influence, and adverse to the general policy it was found
expedient, as I have said, to pursue in Spanish America.
Thus British troops were sent even ostentatiously to Lisbon, since Mr.
Canning would not for a moment countenance the belief that England
would shrink from her engagements to the weakest ally, although the
form of government adopted by that ally was contrary to the particular
opinions of the most powerful confederacy in the world.
And here it is especially to be remarked that a policy which, regarded
as a whole, bears so decided an appearance, and which was certain to
produce so considerable an effect, offers hardly a single point where
the success was doubtful, or the peril great. Developing itself, like
that game where the skilful winner advances gradually but surely, each
piece protected by another through a series of moves, our policy had
only become conspicuous by the last move which obtained its victory.
Our treaties with Buenos Ayres, with Mexico, and Columbia, guarded as
they were by our own previous declarations, and also by the important
declaration of the American President, could only expose us to a
useless and insignificant exhibition of displeasure.
The severance of Brazil from Portugal, as long as Portugal was a
consenting party, could with little decency be objected to by an
indifferent power; the concession of a charter to Portugal, coming
from the sovereign of Portugal himself, was an act which those who
contended for the divine right of kings to do what they thought
proper, could not well oppose: and finally, the expedition of British
troops to Lisbon--sent out at the time when the name of “Mr. Canning”
had become the rallying word of England, and “England” herself the
rallying word of the free and the intelligent throughout the world,
demanded also under circumstances too well known to be disputed, and
authorised by treaties which had always been acknowledged, and to
which, from the very commencement of his administration, Mr. Canning
had called attention--resolutely as it was announced, gallantly as it
was made, and important as its impression on the public mind was sure
to be--could hardly have been resented with propriety or advantage.
On each occasion the minister had made his stand at the happiest
opportunity and on the strongest grounds. Abandoning, it is true, all
direct resistance to France and to the principles she maintained--where
such resistance must have been made with great peril, and with but
small chance of success--he had adopted towards both France and her
principles a system of opposition which exhibited itself by a variety
of successive acts each by itself little likely to be dangerous, and
all in their combination certain to be effective. In the first place,
instead of meeting the enemy on a ground undermined by factions, and
where a large military force, inconsistent with the nature of our
means, would have been necessary, he carried the quarrel into a new
hemisphere, and placed it on a question which, mistress of the seas,
England had the undoubted power of deciding. Lastly, when a British
army was sent to the continent, it was sent not on grounds which might
merely be justifiable, but for reasons which were obligatory; while
the people to whose aid it marched--open to the ocean, animated by
hereditary jealousy against their neighbours, accustomed to British
command, and confident in British assistance--were the people whom
we were most likely to be allowed to succour with impunity, and most
certain, should war ensue, of triumphantly defending.
Something of chance and fortune, no doubt, was mingled in the happy
conduct of these events, as is the case in all human affairs; but
there is visible a steady and impressive will, tempering and ruling
them throughout; the mind and spirit of a man, who was capable of
forethought, governed by precaution, and prompt in decision.
PART IV.
FROM THE BEGINNING OF MR. CANNING’S POPULARITY AS FOREIGN MINISTER TO
HIS DEATH.
Mr. Canning’s position.--Altered tone of opposition.--Favour of
King.--Death of Duke of York and of Lord Liverpool.--Struggle
for the Premiership.--Nomination of Mr. Canning.--Secession
of Duke of Wellington and Anti-Catholic party.--Junction with
Whigs.--Formation of Cabinet.--Effect of Canning on the men
of his time, and their effect on a subsequent one.--Eastern
affairs.--Treaty concerning Greece with Russia and
France.--Sickness.--Death.
I.
It is needless to say that a policy which raised England so high in
the world’s consideration was popular with Englishmen; they were proud
of their country and of their minister. The Whig opposition, moreover,
which at first depreciated that minister and praised his colleagues,
soon began to depreciate his colleagues and to praise him. But Mr.
Canning’s most extraordinary and unexpected triumph was at court. From
being the man in the Cabinet the most odious to the King, he had become
the King’s pet minister, and one of the most intimate of his chosen
circle.
The leader of the House of Commons had one peculiar mode of obtaining
his Majesty’s confidence, and cultivating his intimacy. It was his
arduous duty to send to the Sovereign every night a written account of
that night’s proceedings in the assembly to which he belonged. It is
easy to see the advantage which this established custom may give to a
writer who expresses himself with tact and clearness. A minister of
foreign affairs has also more opportunities than any other minister of
captivating the Royal attention. Foreign politics, which constitute the
arena in which kings are pitted against kings, are the politics which
most interest royal personages. A monarch there represents before
other monarchs the fame, the power, the character of the nation he
rules; he rises as it rises, he falls as it falls.
George IV., whatever his faults, was not without talent or ambition.
In early life he wished to distinguish himself in military service
abroad, and when, on this being denied him, he entered more deeply than
discreetly into politics at home, it was the desire for popularity
which connected him with the Opposition. He still remembered the
high position which after the battle of Waterloo he held, as Regent
of England, amongst the great potentates of the earth; and though
personally attached to Lord Castlereagh, and unwilling to sever himself
altogether from the sovereigns who had formerly been his allies,
and who now in confounding Liberty with Anarchy came forward as the
champions of Royalty and order, still he was not insensible to the
fact that he had become, little by little, a nonentity in the councils
of his peers, and that his advice and opinions, even when expressed
by the great warrior who had vanquished Napoleon, were treated with
a disregard which was galling to his pride as a monarch, and painful
to his feelings as an Englishman. He experienced no small exultation,
then, when he saw this state of things reversed, and that the King of
England was once more a personage whose policy created hope and alarm.
He had, moreover, a singular propensity, which was in fact a sort of
madness, for conceiving that he had played a personal part in all the
events which had passed in his reign. Amongst other fancies of this
kind, he believed, or at least often spoke as if he believed, that he
had been on the great battle-field which had terminated the war in
1815; and I have been told by two persons who were present, that one
day at dinner, after relating his achievements on this occasion, he
turned round to the Iron Duke and said:
“Was it not so, Duke?”
“I have heard your Majesty often say so,” replied the Duke, drily.[122]
It was easy, then, for Mr. Canning to make George IV. consider Mr.
Canning’s policy his policy, Mr. Canning’s successes his successes, and
indeed Mr. Canning always spoke to his Majesty, when the popularity
of his administration became apparent, as if he had only followed the
inspiration of a prescient and intelligent master.
I should omit more trifling causes of favour, if I did not think them
necessary to illustrate the character of the parties, and of the times
of which I am speaking, and to show the attention which Mr. Canning,
once engaged in the task of recasting our foreign policy, gave to the
smallest circumstances which might facilitate it. In the ordinary
acceptation of the word, he was not a courtier, or a man of the world.
Living, as I have already stated, in the midst of a small clique of
admirers, and little with society at large, he confined his remarkable
powers of pleasing to his own set. He had determined, however, on
gaining George IV.’s goodwill, or, at all events, on vanquishing his
dislike, and he saw at once that this was to be done rather indirectly
than directly, and that it could best be done by gaining the favour
of those ladies of the court whom the King saw most frequently, and
spoke to most unreservedly. These were Lady Conyngham and Madame de
Lieven. For Lady Conyngham George IV. had a sort of chivalric devotion
or attachment; Madame de Lieven he liked and appreciated as the lady
who had the greatest knack of seizing and understanding his wishes,
and making his court agreeable. She was a musician, and he was fond of
music; she had correspondents at every capital in Europe, and knew all
the small gossip as well as the most important affairs that agitated
Paris, St. Petersburg, and Vienna, and he was amused by foreign gossip
and interested in foreign affairs. Her opinion, moreover, as to the
position of any one in the world of fashion was law, and George IV.
piqued himself especially on being the man of fashion. Mr. Canning
resolved, then, on pleasing this remarkable lady, and completely
succeeded. She became, as she afterwards often stated, subjugated by
the influence of his natural manner and brilliant talents; and the
favour of Madame de Lieven went the further in this instance with the
King, since he had previously a sort of prejudice against Canning,
as being too much the man of letters, and not sufficiently the fine
gentleman. This prejudice once removed, a man of wit, genius, and
information, had no inconsiderable hold on a prince whose youth had
been passed in the most brilliant society of his time, and who was
still alive to the memory of the sparkling wit of Sheridan and the easy
and copious eloquence of Fox. Lady Conyngham’s alliance was still more
important than that of Madame de Lieven, and one of Mr. Canning’s first
acts was to name Lord Francis Conyngham Under Secretary of State, it is
said at the King’s desire. At all events, Lord Francis’s appointment,
which was in every respect a good one, pleased the Marchioness, and
satisfied his Majesty, who saw in it the willingness of his Minister to
bring even the most private acts of his administration under the Royal
cognisance.
II.
An anecdote of the time is worth recording, since it connected itself
with the recognition of the Spanish colonies, and the subsequent
elevation of the minister to whom this important act was due.
Lady Conyngham had been supposed in early life to have greatly admired
(there was no scandal, I should say, attached to this admiration) Lord
Ponsonby, then the finest gentleman of his day. Lord Ponsonby, who
had long been absent from England, returned from the Ionian Islands,
where he had held a small office, not a little desirous to get a better
place than the one he had quitted. He met Lady Conyngham at Lady
Jersey’s, and (so went the story of the day) Lady Conyngham fainted. So
interesting a piece of gossip soon reached the ear of the monarch: the
friendship of old men is very often as romantic as the love of young
men. His Majesty took to his bed, declared himself ill, and would see
no one. All business was stopped. After waiting some time, Mr. Canning
at last obtained an interview. George IV. received him lying on a couch
in a darkened room, the light being barely sufficient to read a paper.
“What’s the matter? I am very ill, Mr. Canning.”
“I shall not occupy your Majesty for more than five minutes. It is very
desirable, as your Majesty knows, to send Envoys, without delay, to the
States of South America, that are about to be recognised.”
The King groaned, and moved impatiently.
“I have been thinking, Sire, it would be most desirable to select a
man of rank for one of these posts (another groan), and I thought of
proposing Lord Ponsonby to your Majesty for Buenos Ayres.”
“Ponsonby!” said the King, rising a little from his reclining
position--“a capital appointment! a clever fellow, though an idle one,
Mr. Canning. May I ask you to undraw that curtain a little? A very
good appointment: is there anything else, Canning, that you wish me to
attend to?”
From that moment, said the person who told me this story, Mr. Canning’s
favour rose more and more rapidly.[123]
But in mentioning Lady Conyngham and Madame de Lieven, as having been
of much use to Mr. Canning, I should also mention Doctor Sir Wm.
Knighton. Yet, I would not have it thought that I intend in any way to
take from Mr. Canning’s character as a great minister by showing that
he adopted the small means necessary to rule a court. George IV.’s
habits were such that without some aid of this kind no statesman could
have got current affairs carried on with due regularity, or initiated
any policy that required the Royal support.
III.
The moment was now at hand, when the extent of this Royal support was
to be tested; when, in short, it was to be decided whether the Canning
party or the Wellington and Eldon party was to be predominant in the
Cabinet. The difference in feeling and opinion between the two sections
was, as I have said, more or less general; but as the only question
on which the members of the same government were allowed to disagree
(according to the principle on which the Cabinet had been founded) was
Catholic Emancipation, so it was on the Catholic Emancipation question
that each tried its strength against the other. In the preceding year
the Emancipationists had obtained a majority in the House of Commons,
and would have had only a small majority against them in the House of
Lords, but for the speech of the Duke of York, heir-presumptive to
the throne, who declared that he was, and ever would be, a determined
supporter of the Protestant principles of exclusion, maintained by
his late father. There is reason to suppose that this declaration was
made on an understanding with the King, who thought that he would thus
fortify his own opinions, which had become for the last twenty years
hostile to the Catholics, and also deter Canning and his friends from
pushing forward too eagerly a matter on which they must expect to
encounter the opposition of two successive sovereigns.
On the 5th of January, 1827, however, the Duke of York died; and
though during his illness he strongly advised his brother to form
an anti-Catholic Administration--without which, he said, Catholic
Emancipation must ere long be granted--the counsel, though it had
distressed George IV. considerably, had not decided him; for his
Majesty preferred his ease, as long as he could enjoy it, to facing
difficulties which would disorder the ordinary routine of his social
life, as well as that of public affairs. The Duke of York’s influence
on George IV., moreover, was that of personal contact, of a living
man of honest and sterling character, over a living man of weaker
character; it expired, therefore, when he expired.
Another death soon afterwards occurred. Lord Liverpool was taken ill
in February, 1827, and he died in March. This left the first situation
in the Government vacant. The moderator between the two conflicting
parties was no more, and a struggle as to the Premiership became
inevitable.
Mr. Canning was at this crisis seriously ill at Brighton: and we
may conceive the agitation of his restless mind, since Sir Francis
Burdett’s annual motion on the Catholic claims was just then coming on.
His absence would, he knew, be misinterpreted; and literally rising
from his bed, and under sufferings which only ambition and duty could
have rendered supportable, he appeared to confront his enemies and
encourage his followers in his place in the House of Commons.
The debate was more than warm, and an encounter between the Master of
the Rolls, Sir J. Copley, afterwards Lord Lyndhurst, and the Secretary
of State for Foreign Affairs, was such as might rather be expected
from rival chiefs of hostile factions, than from men belonging to the
same government, and professing to entertain on most subjects the same
opinions. Finally, a majority of four decided against Sir Francis
Burdett.
After this trial of strength, it was difficult for the Minister of
Foreign Affairs to insist upon the first place in a balanced cabinet,
with a majority in both Houses of Parliament against the party which he
represented. When, therefore, the King consulted him subsequently as to
a new Administration, he said:
“I should recommend your Majesty to form an Administration wholly
composed of persons who entertain, in respect to the Roman Catholics,
your Majesty’s own opinions.”
This counsel could not be carried out; but it seemed disinterested,
and forced George IV. to allow, after making the attempt, that it was
impracticable. The formation of a Cabinet on the old terms of general
comprehension thus became a necessity, and to that Government Mr.
Canning was indispensable. But his Majesty naturally wished to retain
him in a position that would not offend the rest of his colleagues,
and to place some person opposed to the Catholics in Lord Liverpool’s
vacant situation. This Mr. Canning would not consent to. In serving
under Lord Liverpool, he had served under a man highly distinguished
from his youth, offered, as early as the death of Mr. Pitt, the first
situation in the State, and who, as the head of a government retaining
possession of power for many years, had enjoyed the good fortune of
holding it at one of the most glorious epochs in British history.
That nobleman left no one behind him entertaining his own opinions,
and on whom his own claims of precedency could be naturally supposed
to descend. Besides, he was Mr. Canning’s private friend, and agreed
with him on almost every question, except the solitary one of Catholic
Emancipation.
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.