For the last ten years of his life Castlereagh, Pitt’s leading disciple, was the most influential politician in Britain. He was the principal architect of the European post-war settlement, which he sought to safeguard with a flexible, pragmatic foreign policy of circumspect involvement and co-operation with the leading continental powers, executed partly through the network of personal contacts which he had built up. The rise of new issues in Europe, on which British interests were at odds with those of the Holy Alliance, made this line increasingly difficult to hold. Domestically, he was the most powerful member of the cabinet, close at times to being de facto prime minister, as Lord Liverpool’s relationship with George IV deteriorated. Despite his glaring defects as an orator, he had become a combative and generally effective government leader in the Commons. Yet the Whig James Macdonald* wrote just after his tragic death:
His character will not be very easily defined in the page of history in which it must stand so conspicuously from the great events with which it has been connected. No man certainly ever traded so largely on so small a capital, but presence of mind, some sagacity, a good temper and good manners supplied the place of knowledge and eloquence.
Lansdowne mss, Macdonald to Lansdowne, 18 Aug. [1822].
Over 20 years later Sir George Philips*, another political opponent, recalled that
[Sir James] Mackintosh* used to say of Castlereagh that he had all the inferior qualities of a leader in an extraordinary degree. Though his language was often ungrammatical, his metaphors and figures so strangely perplexed and confused as to set the House a laughing, yet I have heard him speak in such a powerful, impressive and eloquent style as would have done honour to any man. The more he was pressed ... the better he spoke, both in matter and manner. He was a handsome, fine looking man, good natured, high bred, and his courage was so undoubted that he could allow people to take liberties with him, or disregard them, as unworthy of his notice, which other men might have lost reputation by not resenting.
Warws. RO, MI 247, Philips mems. i. 377.
William Wilberforce* wrote that when Castlereagh
was in his ordinary mood, he was very tiresome, so slow and heavy, his sentences only half formed, his matter so confined, like what is said of the French army in the Moscow retreat, when horse, foot and carriages of all sorts were huddled together, helter-skelter; yet, when he was thoroughly warmed and excited, he was often very fine, very statesmanlike ... and seemed to rise quite into another man.
Life of Wilberforce, v. 259.
In a mature assessment, Lord John Russell* observed:
Castlereagh, who had been often pointed out as the successor of Pitt, wanted the large views of that great man ... [He] was an obscure orator, garnishing his speeches with confused metaphors ... He had no classical quotations, no happy illustration, no historical examples ... Yet his influence with his party was very great, and he was, till near the close of his life, a successful leader of the House of Commons. For this end he possessed ... very considerable advantages. He was, as a man of business, clear, diligent, and decided. His temper was admirable - bold and calm, good humoured and dispassionate. He was a thorough gentlemen; courteous, jealous of his own honour, but full of regard for the feelings of others. No one doubted his personal integrity, however much they might dislike his policy.
Russell, Recollections, 26-27.
His greatest asset and most attractive feature was his ‘cool and determined courage’, which, as Greville noted, ‘commanded universal respect and ... gave an appearance of resolution and confidence to all his actions, inspired his friends with admiration and excessive devotion to him, and caused him to be respected by his most violent opponents’.
In mid-January 1820 Castlereagh, on his way to a shooting party in Norfolk for ‘a fortnight’s relaxation, which, after our short but active session, I in some measure require’, informed Prince Hardenberg:
As far as we can judge, our measures have operated very favourably on the internal state of the country. Radical stock is very low indeed at the present moment, and the loyal have resumed their superiority and confidence. The provisions of the laws which have been enacted will, no doubt, do a great deal to repress the mischief; but ... whatever our reformers may choose to say, the voice of Parliament is in itself still all-powerful in this country, when clearly pronounced.
Castlereagh Letters, xii. 174
Three weeks into the new reign he told his half-brother Lord Stewart, ambassador to Austria, that in view of ‘the magic trance into which the country has been thrown by the late bills’, the government had decided on an early dissolution, so as ‘not to give our opponents time to agitate anew the public mind’.
Although he had privately welcomed the Carlsbad decrees of December 1819, by which Metternich sought to tighten his control over German liberalism, he was obliged to take another line in public, maintaining and emphasizing the cardinal tenet of British non-interference in the internal affairs of other states unless European peace or national interests were seriously threatened. He set out this position in his state paper of 5 May 1820, which deprecated the Russian plan for the mutual guarantee by the Powers of their respective governments. It was approved by his colleagues and sent to the Allies; and he instructed his brother to urge these views at the subsequent Congresses of Troppau and Laibach.
At the beginning of the session he had written to Metternich:
Much will depend on the course Her Majesty shall think fit to pursue. If she is wise enough to accept the pont d’or which we have tendered her, the calamities and scandal of a public investigation will be avoided. If she is mad enough or so ill-advised as to put her foot upon English ground, I shall, from that moment, regard Pandora’s box as opened.
Castlereagh Letters, xii. 259.
As it turned out, it fell to him to bear almost single handed the burden of handling the business in the Commons, as a result of which even more popular opprobrium was heaped on him. On 6 June he laid the king’s message concerning Caroline and the ‘green bag’ documents on the table, ‘prudently’, as Bankes thought, ignoring provocative remarks from Brougham. The following day, after Brougham had formally notified the House of the queen’s intention to return and fight her corner, Castlereagh moved, in what John Croker* heard was a ‘long and vague’ speech, for the appointment of a secret committee to inquire into her conduct, concluding with a hit at Brougham and her other advisers who would ‘tempt her into crooked, and thorny, and dangerous paths’. Princess Lieven perceived his ‘obvious aversion’ to the whole business, and Bankes too saw that ‘the embarrassment and reluctance which he felt were not counterfeited’. He was ‘obliged to consent’ when opinion in the House, prompted by Wilberforce, showed itself to be strongly in favour of adjournment.
upon the whole, I do not think matters, up to the present point, could have worked more favourably ... His Majesty has had all the forbearance without conceding anything; and the mind of Parliament has been gradually brought to settle to the calamity of a public trial of the queen as an inevitable evil, from which no prudential effort could relieve them’.
Arbuthnot Jnl. i. 23; Hobhouse Diary, 25; J.E. Cookson, Lord Liverpool’s Administration, 242.
On Wilberforce’s compromise resolution, 22 June, when his admirer Mrs. Arbuthnot thought he ‘spoke remarkably well’, but Littleton felt that he ‘talked in his usual vague manner’, he ‘stoutly upheld the king’s right to regulate the liturgy’ and angrily accused opposition of trying to ‘prevent all accommodation’. Like Liverpool and lord chancellor Eldon, he did not wish the bill of pains and penalties, by which ministers decided to proceed in the Lords, to go as far as divorce.
It has been much enlarged; but what taste in furnishing! The story of Don Quixote carpets his study, and Sancho is being tossed in a blanket just in front of his desk. He says that gives him a pleasant sensation, and he thinks its position is excellent. Join me in laughing!
Lieven Letters, 53.
He was reckoned to have given Dr. Lushington ‘a most handsome and proper dressing’ when quashing his motion for papers concerning the queen’s plate, 17 July.
Castlereagh, whom Creevey encountered at the Lords trial of the queen in mid-August ‘smiling as usual, though I think awkwardly’, was additionally exercised by continental developments, particularly the military rising in Portugal and the Austrian moves to crush the liberal regime in Naples. Others were concerned at the prospect of his having to fight the queen’s battle in the Commons, if the bill of pains and penalties reached there, virtually unaided; and Wellington asked Mrs. Arbuthnot to consider what would happen ‘if he should be taken ill’.
He lamented very much the king’s indiscretion in talking of those who he still retained as his ministers in so indecorous a manner, and said that such conduct and feelings entirely destroyed any pleasure there might be in serving him. He did not, however, seem to believe that the king had any fixed plan for getting rid of us, but only thought he was uneasy about the progress of the bill and vented his ill humour in abuse of his ministers.
When he attributed much of this spleen to the intrigues of the king’s mistress Lady Conyngham, ‘who was indignant because the ministers’ wives had not invited her to their houses’, Mrs. Arbuthnot told him that his own wife was the ‘chief offender’; but he sprang fiercely to her defence.
Meanwhile, Castlereagh had been grappling with problems of foreign affairs, notably the developments in Portugal and Naples. He pressed the Portuguese king to return to settle with the liberals, and eventually succeeded. Regarding Naples, he considered Austria entitled to intervene against the new regime, the tenor of which alarmed him; but he was keen to prevent a joint operation by the Allies, and particularly anxious to keep Russia out of it. He sent Stewart to the October conference at Troppau as an observer, while letting it be known through his usual channels that he would only remain there if the tsar stopped making declarations which were repugnant to British public opinion. He deplored the Allied protocol affirming their determination to intervene against unacceptable governments. Although it was abandoned, it was replaced with an almost equally objectionable paper which tried to involve Britain and France in the collective decisions of Troppau. In January 1821 Castlereagh issued a riposte, endorsed by his colleagues, which nettled Metternich and earned its author much credit, but did not prevent the decisive Austrian invasion of Naples.
Castlereagh and Liverpool found the king amenable enough on an eve of session visit to Brighton to discuss the speech from the throne.
a couple of phrases which created much laughter. Wishing to justify the government in having given instructions to the embassies abroad that they should arrange for the queen not to be received by foreign courts, he said that had they acted otherwise she would have returned to this country with a weapon in her hand which would have served as a pretext for being treated in the same way here. In speaking of Mr. Brougham, despatched to St. Omer to negotiate with the queen, he said that he should have kept himself open, and the queen open, to consider other propositions.
For his own part, Castlereagh considered that the crushing defeat of the motion ‘seems to leave the issue no longer doubtful, and will, I trust, in conjunction with the display of loyalty which has shown itself both in addresses and upon His Majesty’s late visit to the theatre, restore confidence and abate the popular fermentation’. However, it was thought that his public remonstrance with Lady Conyngham’s son Lord Mount Charles* for threatening to vote to reduce the queen’s allowance would only continue his and his wife’s ‘open war’ with the royal favourites.
Questioned by Gooch, 5 Feb. 1821, as to what ministers intended to do about agricultural distress, Castlereagh said that nothing ‘specific’ was in contemplation, as distress was created by ‘causes beyond the control of the legislature’; but he expressed willingness to sanction another inquiry if required. (It was appointed on 7 Mar.) On 12 Mar. he opposed Hume’s motion for a return to the 1792 military establishment and defended the army estimates:
He would not be understood as opposing retrenchment ... but he did protest against the language of exaggeration and inflammation. He did not see that the distress of the country could be removed or alleviated by painting that distress in glaring and unwarrantable colours; and, that any such reduction could be effected in the military expenditure as would sensibly lighten the burdens of the people, was an assertion which no honest man who saw his way to the end of the proposition could be justified in making.
As proceedings dragged on until four in the morning, with the House in a ‘disorderly’ state, he ‘kept his temper all the time, spoke not, and seemed to sleep with the greatest complacency’.
While he could be pleased with his performance and the strength of the ministry in the first two months of the session, he still conspicuously lacked able support on the front bench, and told his brother, 21 Mar., that his parliamentary labours were ‘difficult to endure’. Yet when he was offered assistance he rejected it, putting up unexpected opposition to the proposal to replace Nicholas Vansittart as chancellor of the exchequer with Peel. As he explained to Charles Arbuthnot*, who passed it on to his wife, he
objected to this, stating that in his position as leader of the House of Commons it was certainly not desirable that there should be a chancellor of the exchequer who, from the nature of his office, ought in time of peace to be the most powerful member of the government and who, if he were ambitious, might make a party against him in the House of Commons; that it would be very unfair upon Mr. Vansittart, and that Mr. Peel had never done anything to entitle him to so high a place.
None of this was very convincing, or fair to Peel: it is not clear whether Castlereagh genuinely feared an enhancement of the anti-Catholic party, lacked confidence in his own ability to keep Peel in his place, or was betraying early symptoms of the paranoia which eventually destroyed his reason. At this time he frankly asked Liverpool whether he intended to retire, and the premier told him that although he was anxious to do so on personal grounds, he would remain while he had the support of his colleagues and their party, but that in the event of his going, he looked to Castlereagh as his successor, perhaps with Canning at the foreign office. (The previous month Wellington had posited such an arrangement to Mrs. Arbuthnot, with the additional proviso that Liverpool should become president of the council to lead the Lords, which would help to neutralize the drawbacks of Castlereagh’s unpopularity and support for Catholic relief.)
In the House, he opposed efforts to reduce the army estimates, 30 Apr., 2 May, and on the ordnance estimates, 18, 21 May, objected to Members making ‘bold and exaggerated assertions’ which bore no relationship to the facts and accused opposition of trying to fan ‘the dead embers’ of the Queen Caroline affair by carping about the approaching coronation. He upheld the principle of British non-interference in the internal affairs of European states, 4 May; said that the Russian army currently marching south would not pass beyond her boundaries and defended Russia and Austria against charges of tyranny, 7 May; declined to prejudice on-going negotiations over the Austrian loan, 31 May and 22 June;
rejoiced to observe the good humour which now prevailed on the other side of the House, but to which the gentlemen opposite appeared, at times, to be entirely strangers ... They appeared to have receded in a considerable degree from that political and constitutional Utopia which they had originally set up.
He reported that since January, the Commons had sat for an average of over eight and a half hours on each working day.
At the end of May 1821 Londonderry, ‘suspicious’ of Liverpool’s motives in inviting Peel to join the ministry without specifying an office, had been ‘excessively discontented’ on learning of the business, but, according to Arbuthnot, was ‘pacified’ by assurances that ‘nothing would induce Lord Liverpool to admit Mr. Peel into the treasury, and that he would consult Lord Castlereagh’s wishes and feelings in preference to any one else’.
very boutonne, very low and very cold. He referred everything to the [king’s] return from Ireland, and told me that until that took place the government was paralysed in all its parts, and nothing of any sort could be done till then. He said he did not apprehend any fatal result, as the king did not seem at all inclined to change his system as to foreign powers or domestic economy.
Hobhouse Diary, 61, 62, 64, 66; Buckingham, i. 164-5, 169; Arbuthnot Corresp. 19; Arbuthnot Jnl. i. 102; Croker Pprs. i. 198-9; Add. 38370, ff. 25, 57; Bucks. RO, Fremantle mss D/FR/46/11/52; 51/5/15.
At the coronation he was, in the words of Lady Lyttelton, ‘stately and conscious of it’ in his garter regalia.
In addition to these domestic vexations, he had on his mind the Greek revolt against Turkey and the threat of Russian intervention on behalf of the former, which would threaten European stabilty and British interests. He had already made a personal appeal to the tsar not to take unilateral action, while affirming his confidence in the value and importance of the Alliance. He was anxious to concert measure with Metternich, who shared his alarm, and arranged to meet him in Hanover for private talks. They agreed on a course of action designed to effect a diplomatic solution to the problem.
‘The result of my negotiation is good in fact; and it will be good as experience; for the king will learn that it is not so easy to dismiss a minister, and the prime minister will learn that it must be remembered that the king is master’. In short, he seems absolutely convinced that the government is now immovable. He gives you [Metternich] a great deal of credit for the reconciliation, because you mollified the king.
Geo. IV Letters, ii. 966; Arbuthnot Jnl. i. 124-5; Hobhouse Diary, 77; Buckingham, i. 227; Lieven Letters, 142-3.
He and Liverpool had a cordial reception from the king when they saw him at Brighton to explain their plans for the reconstruction of the ministry, which involved putting Peel in the home office, sending Lord Wellesley and Henry Goulburn* to Ireland and taking in the Grenvillites, with Canning being excluded and earmarked for India. Londonderry conducted direct negotiations with the Grenvillites: he had little time or respect for them, but thought it important to secure their adhesion in order to ‘destroy the intrigue of a third party in the House of Commons’, and sought to soften the asperities which courting them created in some quarters. He told his brother that with himself, Peel and Williams Wynn on the front bench, ‘I think we could carry on the government in the Commons with efficiency’.
Our parliamentary campaign, perhaps our moral influence to carry the country through its difficulties, depends on having good ground to stand on in our military reductions. It can afford any temporary effort, which internal safety and tranquillity may require, if you take it on grounds of temporary policy and upon a case made out ... Were we upon the present Irish alarm ... to rescind our decision of July ... we should shake all confidence and be supposed to have been looking out for an excuse to mobilize a feeling which is already imputed to the Horse Guards, of wishing to keep up cavalry beyond the wants of the country, at least beyond its means.
Cookson, 342-3.
The following day Croker told a friend:
Londonderry goes on as usual, and ... like Mont Blanc continues to gather all the sunshine upon his icy head. He is better than ever; that is, colder, steadier, more pococurante, and withal more amiable and respected. It is a splendid summit of bright and polished frost which, like the travellers in Switerland, we all admire; but no one can hope, and few would wish to reach.
Croker Pprs. i. 219.
Londonderry, who was pleased with Wellesley’s initial proceedings in Ireland, pressed for an attendance of Members from there for the opening of the 1822 session, when he expected opposition to ‘try our strength as early as possible upon some question which will give them the chance of shaking our landed support’.
Such hash was never delivered by man. The folly of him - his speech as a composition in its attempt at style and ornament and figures, and in its real vulgarity, bombast and folly, was such as, coming from a man of his order, with 30 years parliamentary experience and with an audience quite at his devotion, amounted to a perfect miracle ... Brougham ... played the devil with him.
The duke of Bedford commented that Londonderry had been ‘more than usually ridiculous, but the Tory country gentlemen will nevertheless carry him through thick and thin to his journey’s end at the close of the session’. Mackintosh was told that he had ‘outdone himself in his peculiar eloquence ... when he said that the repeal of taxes would be to contradict the causes of nature’.
so good natured that I dare say he will not ... He says they only give these votes occasionally to make a figure in the columns of the opposition papers and please their constituents and they trust to our good luck that their votes will only lessen not overturn our majority.
Arbuthnot Jnl. i. 146-7.
He quashed the rumour that government intended to reduce the army half-pay and condemned the disturbances at the queen’s funeral as an ‘atrocious’ attempt to disturb the peace and obstruct the law, 6 Mar.
when he meets me he fastens on to me; we spend whole evenings sitting together and he never leaves me ... He knows very few people in society ... It is strange how timid he is in society, as if he were just beginning ... I find him thoroughly entertaining ... His phrases are always unexpected.
Lieven Letters, 157, 166.
Londonderry was instrumental in persuading Plunket not to bring on the general Catholic question that session,
At this time he was again infuriated by the meddlesome Lady Conyngham, who, unknown to him, sought to exclude Lady Londonderry from the dinner in honour of the prince and princess of Denmark. At the king’s instigation, Princess Lieven successfully intervened with Lady Conyngham and, as she flattered herself, ended the ‘quarrel of two years standing’. However, she was astonished by Londonderry’s reaction when she told him what had occurred, for he ‘suddenly flew into a positive rage’ and talked wildly of resigning if matters did not improve. He also said that he would wash his hands of the proposed journey to the autumn conference of the Allies in Vienna, on which the king was insisting on going himself, with his mistress in tow. His brother, whom he sent to the Princess to tell her that his mind was made up, said that he was ‘disgusted with everything’, that ‘this women’s quarrel’ was the last straw, that he was suspicious of Peel and believed that all his colleagues, including Wellington, were conspiring against him: ‘He told me that Lord Londonderry was broken-hearted, and that he had never seen a man in such a state’. Certainly he was under a terrible strain and showing symptoms of mental and physical exhaustion, for at this time he buttonholed the Whig Lord Tavistock*, with whom he had only a slight acquaintance, in Hyde Park, and
lost no time in unbosoming himself upon the state of public affairs. He described the torment of carrying on the government under the general circumstances of the country as beyond endurance, and said if he could once get out of it, no power on earth should induce him into it again.
On 10 June 1822 Princess Lieven, who wondered if his brother was feeding his paranoia about Wellington, noted that he ‘looks ghastly. He has aged five years in the last week; one can see that he is a broken man’. A week later, however, she found him ‘radiant’, having received assurances from the king concerning the visit to the Allied Congress.
In the House, 3 June 1822, he opposed reception of the Greenhoe reform petition because it was couched in the language of ‘insult’. That day he said that the new corn bill was not intended to create a perfect law and that ‘if Parliament waits until the agriculturists were agreed upon a remedy, they might wait till doomsday, and to no purpose, for ... they did not always understand their own interests’.
Londonderry and Metternich had succeeded in averting Russian intervention in support of the Greeks, and persuaded the tsar to submit the Eastern question to the Vienna conference. However, the Russian scheme for an Allied invasion of Spain to rescue King Ferdinand from the liberals posed another threat to peace, and Metternich was anxious that Londonderry, who was also exercised by the problem of the Spanish South American republics, should attend the Vienna meeting, if not that scheduled for later in Verona to discuss Italian affairs. Given all his difficulties with the king, who eventually opted to visit Scotland, and Lady Conyngham, it was not until late July 1822 that Londonderry could be sure of going to Vienna. He planned to leave England with his wife in mid-August and to arrive three weeks later for preliminary talks with Metternich.
several people who had all assumed an air of melancholy, a visage de circumstance, which provoked me inexpressibly, because it was certain that they did not care; indeed, if they felt at all, it was probably rather satisfaction at an event happening than sorrow at the death of the person.
The king, his cabinet colleagues, especially Wellington, Mrs. Arbuthnot, Princess Lieven and others close to him were devastated; but, naturally, working politicians of all persuasions were not slow in beginning to calculate the immense consequences of his death for domestic and foreign affairs.
Creevey defied
any human being to discover a single feature of his character that can stand a moment’s criticism. By experience, good manners and great courage, he managed a corrupt House of Commons pretty well, with some address. This is the whole of his intellectual merit. He had a limited understanding and no knowledge, and his whole life was spent in an avowed, cold-blooded contempt of every honest public principle. A worse, or if he had had talent and ambition for it, a more dangerous public man never existed.
Creevey Pprs. ii. 42.
Sir Robert Wilson, another political opponent, believed that there had never been ‘a greater enemy to civil liberty or a baser slave’.
In discussing matters of business I used to remark that he was slow at finding words and had an involved way of explaining a subject, but it was always plain that the idea was right and clear in his mind, and nothing could exceed his strong good sense ... He had a natural slowness of constitution of which he was himself quite aware ... Nothing ... could exceed his tact and judgement in dwelling on the strong points of his own arguments or the weak ones of his antagonists; and his management was so good, and he was himself so gentlemanlike and so high minded, that he was one of the most popular leaders the government ever had.
Agar Ellis diary, 21 Sept. [1822]; Arbuthnot Jnl. i. 181-2.
Croker observed that ‘absence of all vanity and perfect simplicity of mind always characterized him’.
Amid these defects, he rose by dint of a noble person, an heroic mind, an undaunted soul, strong power of argument, personal courage, and the manners and demeanour of a most polished gentlemen, which never deserted him in the hottest and bitterest debate. It has been often remarked that he always spoke best when most severely attacked. He has been likened to a top, which spins best when it is most whipped.
Hobhouse Diary, 91-92.
Lord John Russell summed him up as ‘a man of business, endowed with common sense and discretion, but bound by traditional Toryism’.
He was a man of a strong and cool head and a resolute judgement, considerable abilities and much application. His speaking in Parliament was for the most part confused and bad ... [but] he sometimes spoke well ... In temper he was unmatched as a leader of the ... Commons ... In private life he was most amiable ... His conversation was occasionally agreeable, rarely though - it was generally too drawling in manner, and with an air too little interested in what was going on. A steady friend, and a forgiving enemy. I doubt whether he cared much for the constitution; he had been too long in the mire of politics for that.
Agar Ellis diary, 16 Aug. [1822].
Unfailing courage and, until it betrayed him at the end, a clear head raised Londonderry above many men of greater natural gifts. He was a political giant, at the centre of momentous events; and his reputation has been rescued by the perspective of posterity and by cool appraisal from the infamy visited on him by his contemporary critics.
