Scapegoat
Robert Blake
Castlereagh Wendy Hinde (Collins pp. 320, £16) Viscount Castlereagh, as the second Marquess of Londonderry is usually called (he succeeded his father only 16 months before his own death), has not, in general, had a good press. One can discount Shelley's lines in The Mask of Anarchy, famous though they are: I met Murder on the way — He had a mask like Castlereagh — Very smooth he looked, yet grim; Seven blood-hounds followed him.
It was not likely that the poet who was keen on liberty and republicanism would be fair to the leading figure of a high Tory administration in the immediate aftermath of Peterloo. But there was something about Castlereagh which inspired dislike. Lord Bathurst, writing to the Duke of Richmond, referred to `his general unpopularity (I know not why)'. It was said of his father that he had 'a toadish coldness and a haughty distance of deportment'. Perhaps the son inherited these traits, or perhaps he was merely shy. Then there was his conduct towards Canning who had certainly treated him badly in the political crisis of 1809. But many people thought it a bit much to issue, after considerable delay, a challenge which looked cold-bloodedly vindictive and, in the ensuing duel, to insist on a second exchange of shots which wounded Canning, after both men had missed each other on the first.
Part of Castlereagh's unpopularity stemmed from a period of his career which tends to be overlooked. Posterity thinks of him primarily as a famous Foreign Secretary and this, of course, was the theme of Professor C. K. Webster's two great volumes, The Foreign Policy of Castlereagh (1925 and 1931). But he also played a major part in the passing of the Act of Union with Ireland in 1800. He held the key post of Chief Secretary under Pitt and it was his task to persuade the Irish Parliament — 'Grattan's Parliament', as it is sometimes called, after the name of its greatest orator — to vote itself out of existence. Persuasion largely took the form of bribery, whether in cash, pensions or honours. It was, of course, the only method, but Grattan himself, old and ill, made a two hour speech of invective, and ended by shaking his finger at the Chief Secretary saying: 'The thing which he proposes to buy is what cannot be sold — liberty . . .' Castlereagh became the most hated man in Dublin and was burned in effigy outside his house in Merrion Street.
He confidently expected that the union would be followed by Catholic emancipa tion, the commutation of titles and the endowment of Catholic and Dissenting clergy. There had been no formal promise, however, and George III, inflamed by one of the shadiest Lord Chancellors ever to hold the Great Seal, Lord Loughborough, persuaded himself that he would be violating his coronation oath if he allowed political equality to Catholics. At his levee on 28 January 1801 he pointed at Castlereagh saying: 'What is this that this young lord has brought over, that they are going to throw at my head? . . . . I shall reckon any man my personal enemy who proposes any such measure — the most Jacobinical thing I ever heard of.' Castlereagh resigned, along with the rest of Pitt's government. Catholic emancipation was postponed for nearly 30 years and when it did come it was too late to create the goodwill which might have been produced by an immediate concession.
Wendy Hinde, author of an admirable life of Canning, treats the 'Irish Dimension' more fully than most previous biographers apart from Montgomery Hyde. It is an interesting story told with clarity and scholarship, and it goes a long way to explain why Castlereagh came to be so disliked. She points out that his motives were far from ignoble. He believed that Ireland could not exist as a separate state, and that union with England was the natural way of guaranteeing prosperity, but, as she writes: 'Castlereagh made the mistake of underestimating the strength of national feeling in Ireland, and refused to recognise that union could be opposed on perfectly respectable public grounds, just as the Irish nationalists refused to recognise that it could be supported from anything but sordid and corrupt motives. He also failed to recognise that unworthy means can fatally tarnish a worthy end. .
From 1802 till 1805 Castlereagh, as President of the Board of Control, was responsible for the affairs of India. Then he became Secretary for War for four years — a post in which it was almost impossible to shine, given the problem of conducting a global campaign from Whitehall in an era of infinitely slow communications. Castlereagh did not shine. The Prince Regent thought him the worst war minister England had ever had and his general unpopularity made him something of a scapegoat. He came into his own in 1812, after three years out of office when Spencer Perceval offered him the Foreign Secretaryship. He remained in that post till his tragic suicide, the result of a mental breakdown, ten years later, and he undoubtedly goes down in history, along with Palmerston, Salisbury and Grey as one of the great holders of that office.
The author's learning, scholarship and readability are shown at their best in dealing with the earlier part of Castlereagh's career. She has less to say of interest about his period in the Foreign Office. This may be because the field has already been fully explored. In addition to Webster's detailed volumes, there is also a notable book by Henry Kissinger, A World Restored. First published in 1957 it is a study of Metternich and Castlereagh from the point of view of a thoughtful conservative. Kissinger rightly saw that after 1815 Castlereagh was not a blind upholder of the restored monarchical system. Metternich may have sought to preserve a social order which would prevent revolution. Castlereagh's goal was a European equilibrium in which war would be unlikely because no one could be sure of winning it. He was not necessarily opposed to constitutional reforms. Ironically, it is from his death and replacement by Canning that the doctrinaire adherence, at almost any price, of Austria, Prussia and Russia to the status quo really dates, though most historians attribute it to the whole post-1815 period. The very insularity of Canning's policies drove Metternich into an absolute dependence on Russia, which had not existed while Castlereagh was at the Foreign Office.
The trouble with Castlereagh's posthumous reputation is that, though extremely handsome, he was dull. 'It was said of him,' writes Kissinger, 'that he was like a splendid summit of polished frost, icy, beautiful, aloof, of a stature that nobody could reach and few would care to do it'. Canning, who was in many ways a lesser figure, goes down better because he was a great wit and a great orator. Castlereagh's leaden circumlocutionary utterances are forgotten, but this does not mean that he was the inferior statesman, any more than Gladstone was inferior to Disraeli.
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