"Who should that one be?": George Canning's Colleague-Rating System, 1807

by Jacqueline Reiter


The British political scene in 1807 seemed to be stagnating. Two big names had passed away in the past year: Pitt the Younger, prime minister for most of the last twenty years of the eighteenth century, had died in January 1806, followed by his celebrated opponent, Charles James Fox, in September. Both their parties seemed aimless and confused. The "Foxites", under Charles Grey, Lord Howick, were in a foundering coalition government with Pitt's cousin Lord Grenville. The "Pittites" were riven by internal disagreements and could not find a common ground from which to agree on a leader, let alone mount an effective opposition.

William Wyndham, Lord Grenville (Wikimedia Commons)

In February 1807, Lord Grenville, the prime minister, decided the time had come to strengthen his government. Fox's death had left a gaping big hole, and Lord Howick, the government's main orator in the House of Commons, was expected to succeed to the peerage as 2nd Earl Grey at any moment. Grenville's solution was to split the Pittites further by making an individual offer of office to their most talented man: George Canning.

Canning and Grenville had been colleagues before, when Canning had been an under-secretary in Grenville's Foreign Office in the 1790s. Canning was well known as a brilliant debater and speech-maker, and his vivid intelligence made him a desirable catch for the beleaguered government. Although Canning had been almost pathologically devoted to Pitt, with whom he had formed a close and somewhat obsessive friendship, he had started out in life as a Foxite, and had long considered Grenville -- Pitt's cousin and former Foreign Secretary -- as the natural leader of the "true" Pittites.

George Canning (Wikimedia Commons)

At the end of February, therefore, Grenville's nephew Lord Temple carried an official offer to Canning. Would he consider joining the government in a high capacity, as an unconnected individual? There would be no room for any other Pittites, but Canning might bring one colleague with him in an unspecified role.

Canning was half-convinced to accept the offer -- he had long been dissatisfied with the way things were going among the Pittites -- but he wanted to join the Grenville government in a way that made it clear he was there on his own merits. His own course was clear: he was resolved to hold out for one of the three Secretaryships of State (Home, Foreign, or War) or, failing that, the post of First Lord of the Admiralty. The major question, therefore, was which Pittite colleague to bring with him.

The three most talented men in the Pittite party, apart from Canning himself, were Lord Hawkesbury (later Lord Liverpool), Lord Castlereagh, and Spencer Perceval. Of those three, Perceval was the best orator, and by February 1807 was not yet considered to be a front-runner for the Pittite leadership, although he would later become prime minister. In any case, Canning wanted an ally who would not be a rival. He did not even consider Perceval. Hawkesbury and Castlereagh both had experience of high office, but neither was an impressive orator and Canning had a poor opinion of both. Apart from these three, talent was thin on the ground, but Canning was willing to consider other assets.

Canning discussed the issue with his wife, Joan, who was away in Hinckley with their three young children. (Interestingly, Canning seems never to have held back in any political matters with his wife, with whom he was deeply in love and whom he treated as his intellectual equal.) "If I can have but one brought into Cabinet with me, who should that one be?"

Canning's solution was to draw up a table rating the seven most likely candidates based on eight criteria. Five were positive: three were negative, but "more than counterbalance[d]" the positives. The result was the following table:

1. "Who would carry most of Pitt?"
2. "Who would bring or satisfy most people?"
3. "Who would feel most obliged to me?"
4. "Whom would the K[ing] like best?"
5. "Who would L[or]d G[renville] [like best]?"
6. Inefficiency
7. Unpopularity
8. "Mischievous Intrigue"

The table is fascinating, and not just because of the novel expedient of rating Canning's colleagues in such a blatant way. Eldon had been Lord Chancellor under Henry Addington (prime minister 1801-4) and Pitt, and was one of the leading organisational influences in the Pittites. Castlereagh had been Secretary of State for War under Pitt. Mulgrave had been Pitt's last Foreign Secretary. Sir William Grant was one of the only ones on the list who had not held high office, but he was Master of the Rolls (a prominent legal position) and owed personal allegiance to Canning. Charles Yorke had been Home Secretary in the past and had much political influence. Lord Chatham, as the table shows, had a reputation for "inefficiency", but he was Pitt's elder brother, and in Canning's eyes that counted for much.

Lord Bathurst seems to have been a sudden inspiration on Canning's part: he was added last and in different ink. Like Grant, he had not held Cabinet office, but he had been friendly with both Pitt and Grenville and had much influence. He was the only person who did not score in any of the three negative categories. As a result Canning concluded: "Perhaps L[or]d Bath[urs]t is the best of all".

Bathurst, then, may well have been the man Canning chose to bring with him. Certainly it would not have been Castlereagh -- poor Castlereagh, who only ticked the "Pitt" box for positives, and was considered both too "unpopular" and too prone to "mischievous intrigue" (whatever that meant). Sir William Grant would probably have been Canning's second choice, but he seems to have been a political lightweight. "Ld. Chat.?" Canning dithered. "Ld. Eld.? Castlerg.? Ld Mulg.? Sir W. Grant? Yorke?"

He was saved from making up his mind (and from having to come clean to his colleagues that he actually had a rating system for them) by circumstances. At the beginning of March, Grenville's government brought in a Bill relieving Catholics and Dissenters in the armed forces from some discrimination. The King, who felt such concessions trespassed on his Coronation Oath, balked, and the government fell. Before the end of March 1807, Canning was in office as Foreign Secretary in a Pittite government headed by the Duke of Portland anyway.

Cartoon by James Gillray depicting the fall of the Grenville government (Wikimedia Commons)

Unsurprisingly, given his poor opinion of most of his colleagues, Canning would be one of the men primarily responsible for the fall of the Portland ministry in 1809. He clashed with Castlereagh -- that unpopular mischievous intriguer -- and ended up fighting a duel with him. But that is very much another story.


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References

Canning's letter to his wife, 27 February 1807, containing the table reproduced above is in the Canning Papers at the British Library (formerly West Yorkshire Record Office), currently catalogued as WYL 250/8/22

I have also consulted Wendy Hinde's biography, George Canning (NY, 1975) and Peter Dixon's Canning: Politician and Statesman (London, 1976)


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Jacqueline Reiter has a Phd in 18th century political history. She is currently working on the first ever biography of John Pitt, 2nd Earl of Chatham, due to be released by Pen & Sword Books in September 2016. When she finds time she blogs about her historical discoveries at http://alwayswantedtobeareiter.wordpress.com/, and can be found on Twitter as https://twitter.com/latelordchatham.

  

The Duel that Shocked the Nation

by M.M. Bennetts

On the 21st of September 1809, just after the dawn of a sunny and clear morning, Viscount Castlereagh made his way with his cousin, Lord Yarmouth, toward Yarmouth's cottage, discussing as he went the fashionable soprano, Angelica Catalani, and even humming the tunes of her arias.  Awaiting them at the cottage were George Canning and Charles Ellis, Canning's second.  

After Ellis made one final attempt at reconciliation between the two principals, at shortly after six, Lord Castlereagh and Mr. Canning took the ten required paces, turned and took aim, both missing their first shot. After which, Castlereagh declared himself unsatisfied and the pair resumed their positions.

This second time Castlereagh's aim proved more accurate and Canning collapsed on the grass with a bullet in his thigh. Castlereagh, honour now satisfied, rushed to his fallen adversary's side, and taking him by the arm, carried him to a neighbouring cottage to receive medical attention.    

However, within weeks, The Battle of the Blocks, a satire mocking the profligacy and arrogance of the duellists, was published to the delight of the jeering classes.  And it was only the first of many such poems and satires.

  

But what can have occurred to have brought a man like Castlereagh, about whom one of his fellow diplomats would later write, "the suavity and dignity of his manners, his habitual patience and self-command, his considerate tolerance of difference of opinion in others...his firmness, when he knew he was right, in no degree detracted from the influence of his conciliatory demeanour..." to be involved in such a scandalous activity as a duel?  

Look no further than his opponent and rival, George Canning.  

Under the aegis of the aging and somewhat sickly Duke of Portland as Prime Minister, a government had been formed in March 1807 with Spencer Perceval as the Chancellor of the Exchequer and leader of the House, Canning at the Foreign Office, and Castlereagh at the War Office.  

Castlereagh, with customary diligence, threw himself into his work reorganising the Volunteers and the militia to bolster Britain's expeditionary forces, as well as commissioning a series of reports from intelligence agents across Europe in an attempt to find the weak points in Napoleon's empire.

In the Lower House, he was also frequently called upon to stand firm against the attacks from the Opposition on the conduct of the war, in particular defending the actions and honour of Sir Arthur Wellesley, first in regard to his action in Denmark and latterly over events in the Peninsula which had culminated in the disastrous Treaty of Cintra.  

(In a nutshell:  Wellesley had trounced the French at the Battle of Vimeiro on 21 August 1808.  All well and good.  Within a day however, Wellesley was superseded by two older armchair generals, Sir Harry Burrard and Sir Hew Darymple, who negotiated a completely ruinous treaty with the French General Junot, in which Britain was required to transport all the defeated French troops back to France carrying with them their 'personal' items, which happened to be all they'd looted from the Portuguese.  When news of the treaty got out in London, there was a huge outcry--and Wellesley was blamed, though he had not been a signatory to the Treaty.)

By late September, as the news of the Battle of Vimeiro was published and the details of the dishonourable treaty leaked out, Canning, in private, grew strident in blaming both Castlereagh and Wellesley for the debacle.  

Though a new Commander-in-Chief, Sir John Moore, was given command of the Peninsular Campaign, by the end of January 1809 he was dead, and the surviving British troops had been evacuated following the Retreat to Corunna.  (No, things weren't looking great on the war front...)  Nevertheless, by April, heartily supported and endorsed in Parliament by Castlereagh, Wellesley was on his way back to the Peninsula as Commander-in-Chief, to aid the beleaguered Portuguese and Spanish in ridding themselves of the Napoleonic yoke. 

At the same time, Castlereagh proposed within the Cabinet attempting to open up another front in the war against Napoleon, this time in northern Germany near Flushing--later this would be known as the Walcheren Campaign.

And it is at this time, around Easter 1809, that Canning's campaign to discredit and undermine Castlereagh got going.  Thus as the months of meetings with his fellow Cabinet-members moved forward, as Castlereagh relied on their support and expertise and trust for his pursuit of the country's war aims, Canning was pursuing a secret campaign to have him removed from office even as in public he made a show of friendship and support.  A letter here, a comment there, it was a perpetual drip-feed of undermining criticism, and although the Prime Minister was unwilling to act on Canning's advice and remove Castlereagh, Canning's duplicitous backstabbing and insidious whispering campaign continued unabated.

And no one, not even his uncle, said a word, leaving Castlereagh completely and utterly in the dark.  

In early September, as the sick troops began to return home from the disastrous Walcheren Expedition and Castlereagh felt that the weight of responsibility for the debacle lay upon his shoulders, he also learned of Canning's efforts to unseat him and his fellow Cabinet members' silence on the subject.  Shocked and demoralised, on 8 September he resigned from the Government.  

Over the next few weeks, as more and more details emerged of Canning's ambitious plotting, including his letter to George III suggesting himself as a new Prime Minister (an unprecedented act) and the deal he had struck with Portland to replace Castlereagh or he himself would resign, Castlereagh felt more and more keenly the humiliation of his position.  Thus on 19 September, he wrote to Canning that he had acted, "in breach of every Principle of good Faith, both public and private...It was therefore your act, and your conduct, which deceived me, and it is impossible for me to acquiesce in being placed in a situation by you which no man of honour could knowingly submit to, nor patiently suffer himself to be betrayed into without forfeiting that character." 

Castlereagh's letter left Canning--who had never fired a shot in his life--with little alternative but to agree to the duel which had previously been suggested.  (Castlereagh was known to be a crack shot...)

Following the duel and the news of it leaking to the press and every scandal-monger in Britain, both Castlereagh and Canning remained on the backbenches of the House of Commons and outside the Cabinet for some time. 

Castlereagh's reputation recovered first and he was soon offered the position of Foreign Secretary by Spencer Perceval, now the Prime Minister, a position which he held from February 1812 until his death in 1822, becoming over the course of those ten years one of the most renowned diplomats of the 19th century and possibly the greatest of Foreign Secretaries for his work at the Congress of Vienna in 1814.  

It wasn't until after Castlereagh's death that George Canning held office again--a high price for his ambitious machinations against a fellow Cabinet member.  (And he limped.)

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M.M. Bennetts is a specialist in early 19th century British and European history and the Napoleonic wars and is the author of two novels, May 18122 and Of Honest Fame set during the period.  A third novel, Or Fear of Peace, is due out in 2014.

For further information, please visit the website and historical blog at www.mmbennetts.com

Regency Redundancy: The Walcheren Expedition

by Regina Jeffers

In engineering terms, "redundancy" refers to the duplication of critical components of functions of a system with the intention of increasing reliability of the system, usually in the case of a backup or fail safe. In linguistics, "redundancy" refers to the construction of a phrase that presents some idea using more information, often via multiple means, than is necessary for one to be able to understand the idea. In military operations, "redundancy" could easily refer to the British expedition known as the Walcheren Expedition.

During the War of the Fifth Coalition (fought between Britain and the Austrian Empire and France and Bavaria in 1809), Britain sent an expedition, consisting of 40,000 soldiers, 15,000 horses, two siege trains, and field artillery, across the North Sea to open another front in support of Austria's struggle against France. The campaign was meant to destroy the French fleet thought to be in Flushing, whilst providing a diversion for the hard-pressed Austrians. Unfortunately, it was an effort in futility. Napoleon had already defeated the Austrians at the Battle of Wagram only a month prior, on the 5th and 6th of July.

Viscount Castlereagh had first proposed the scheme to take the island of Walcheren to Prime Minister William Pitt in 1797. Castlereagh saw the island as the key to controlling the Scheldt and the port of Flushing, a potential launching point for an attack on England. He reopened discussions on the scheme when he joined the British cabinet in April 1807 as Secretary of State for War and the Colonies.

By 1809, the Scheldt estuary had become the second largest French naval arsenal after Toulon. Castlereagh had the right of it: Napoleon meant to Antwerp into an arsenal, opposite the Thames estuary. Two squadrons were kept off the coast of the Netherlands. One was to prevent a surprise attack, while the second was to keep new ships passing to other ports. From as early as 1808, Napoleon had spent a small fortune fortifying the port of Antwerp.

In early 1809, spies informed the British that there were 10 French ships in the port of Flushing and 9 ships of line under construction in Antwerp. Originally Sir David Dundas, newly appointed chief of the British army, was summoned to appear before Castlereagh on 9 March 1809, but Dundas pleaded he could not muster the required army because of the recent retreat from Corunna in Spain.

Dundas was summoned again in May, but the military consultants dampened Castlereagh's plans with reports of the difficulty of the operation, saying speed of execution would determine success or failure. Finally, the news of Austrian success at Aspern-Essling eliminated any governmental doubts. Spies also reported that the garrison at Flushing was poorly manned by untested Dutch, German, Irish, and Spanish soldiers. It was estimated at the time that only about 8,500 French troops remained in the area. On 22 June, Castlereagh received permission from George III for the expedition.

From the beginning, the expedition was doomed. The senior military and naval staff were less than effective. The Commander in Chief of the operations was General Lord Chatham (John Pitt, 2nd Earl of Chatham, the eldest son of William Pitt the Elder and an elder brother of William Pitt the Younger), who was nicknamed "the late earl" because of his love of sleeping in, and while more competent than Chatham, Rear-Admiral Sir Richard Strachan knew little success in the shallow waters of the Scheldt.

Chatham had served in both the American War of Independence and the Russian/British expedition to the Helder in 1799, but he was very much a "desk jockey," having spent the previous 7 years in such a position. In 1794, the Younger Pitt had removed his elder brother from his position as First Lord of the Admiralty because of complaints regarding his laziness.

From Napoleon.org, we find:   "On the same day [22 June 1809], Dundas communicated the total numbers of troops ready for embarkation - 35,000 infantrymen and 1,900 cavalry. As for the direction of the naval side of the affair, this had been given to Rear Adm. Sir Richard Strachan. He was appointed on 9 June, and he was the exact opposite in temperament to Chatham, 'an irregular and impetuous fellow, possessing [...] an uncommon share of sagacity and strong sense.' Strachan was also affectionately known to his men as 'Mad Dick' because he would occasionally lose his temper and swear fiercely. And so these two completely incompatible leaders were to lead the largest ever British expeditionary force to leave the British isles, numbering 618 vessels in total, comprising 352 transports and 266 ships of war."

Jean-Baptiste Bernadotte commanded the French forces. Bernadotte had been stripped of his command for disobeying orders at the Battle of Wagram. He had returned to Paris in shame after being dismissed from Napoleon's Grande Armée, but was sent to defend the Netherlands by the Council of Ministers. Bernadotte lost Flushing to the British, but he competently ordered the French fleet to Antwerp and heavily fortified the city, leaving the British's main objective out of reach.

Even if Chatham and Strachan had had been more strategically minded, their eventual downfall had nothing to do with the French forces and everything to do with the onset of malaria. Over 4,000 British troops perished between 30 July and 9 December 1809, but only 106 died in combat.

Initially, success was known. The British army met little French resistance and quickly set up encampments on the neighboring islands of Walcheren and South Beveland, both in present-day the Netherlands. The British had stifled the attempts of the French to flood the islands by breaching the dykes, but by late August (according to several accounts of the soldiers involved) an epidemic had overtaken the encampments.

From the National Center for Biotechnology Information website, we find the following descriptions of Walcheren: "When the troops first landed, they saw a 'flat fen turned into a garden.' William Keep of the 77th Regiment wrote home, 'The more I see of this country the better I am pleased with it.... Here we frequently spread our table under the shade of luxuriant fruit trees, and enjoy all the pleasures of rustic life.' Another officer thought the capital, Middleburg, one of the most delightful towns he had ever seen. However, a British expedition to the region in 1747 had been largely destroyed by an illness well described by the respected military surgeon John Pringle."

Early August had reports of 700 men suffering from what was termed "Walcheren Fever." By 3 September, 8000 were hospitalized. Even those who were evacuated to England could find little relief. The English hospitals were unable to handle the large influx of patients. Even six months after the campaign ended in February 1810, 11,513 officers and men remained upon the sick lists. Less than two years later, many of these troops were still so weakened by the disease, Wellington requested that no unit which had served in the Walcheren Campaign be sent to him.

"This disease comes on with a cold shivering, so great that the patient feels no benefit from the clothes piled upon him in bed, but continues to shiver still, as if enclosed in ice, the teeth chattering and cheeks blanched. This lasts some time, and is followed by the opposite extremes of heat, so that the pulse rises to 100 in a small space. The face is then flushed and eyes dilated, but with little thirst. It subsides, and then is succeeded by another paroxysm, and so on until the patient's strength is quite reduced, and he sinks into the arms of death."

Obviously, malaria was one of the sources of "Walcheren Fever," as the soldiers described the large number of mosquitoes upon the island and the numerous bites they suffered. Dysentery was also a likely culprit.

Needless to say, this debacle received little attention, with British historians focusing more on the successes of Wellington's armies in the Peninsular Wars and at the Battle of Waterloo. However, in early 1810, Charles Philip Yorke insisted on the exclusion of strangers from the House of Commons during the debates on the Walcheren expedition. That debate resulted in the arrest of the radical orator, John Gale Jones, which resulted in the arrest of Sir Franis Burdett, 5th Baronet, who questioned the House of Commons' authority to arrest Jones. Burdett issued a revised edition of his plea to have Jones. William Cobbett in the Weekly Register published Burdett's speech, which caused the House to vote this action a breach of privileges and to issue a warrant for Burdett's arrest. (Oh, what a tangled web we weave...).

The Times called the expedition a national disaster and blamed Chatham's incompetence for the debacle. Caricatures and lampoons peppered the press, with the most popular one being a caricature published in the Ghent Journal du commerce, which showed Chatham driving a chariot pulled by two turtles and six snails and shouting "Not so fast!"

The medical board and the Cabinet also heard the "voices" of dissent. At the time, Foreign Secretary George Canning had been maneuvering for Castlereagh's removal from the Cabinet. In the midst the chaos surrounding the debate and Portland's  paralytic stroke on 11 August and his resignation on 6 September, Canning (who reportedly wanted Chatham as prime minister and Wellesley to replace Castlereagh) resigned on 7 September, with Castlereagh following on 8 September.

"The famous duel between the two men [Canning and Castlereagh] took place on 19 September, during which Canning was wounded in the thigh. The new administration led by [Spencer] Perceval, but which included Wellington's arrogant elder brother, the Marquess of Wellesley, was to be forced to face an inquiry into the failure of the Walcheren Expedition after a close vote in the House of Commons (195 against 186)."

During the February-March 1810 enquiry, Castlereagh defended the plan's necessity and disclaimed all responsibility for Chatham's incompetence. Chatham was found to have breached constitutional convention by submitting his report on Walcheren directly to the King. Chatham was forced by the Marquess of Wellesley to resign. Castlereagh was no longer a member of the government but was taking his seat on the back benches and therefore received no further censure. Parliament did not find any of those involved in the fiasco as responsible for the failure.

In response, The Times said, "If the Walcheren expedition is to pass unmarked by the general censure, then can no calamity happen on which the British nation will deserve to be heard?"

Again according to the NCBI:  "Remarkably, the army medical department had not been informed of the expedition's destination before its departure.... The medical arrangements were complacent. There were too few doctors, inadequate hospital provision, not enough transport for the sick, and a shortage of vital drugs and supplies. Peruvian bark, one of the few drugs with real efficacy, had to be commandeered from a passing American vessel. The physician general, Sir Lucas Pepys, seemed as much a caricature as his military peers. When asked why he had not attended the sick in Walcheren, he arrogantly replied that he had no personal experience of military medicine. The surgeon general, Thomas Keate, was quick to point out that he was not the appropriate person to visit Walcheren as the matter was 'entirely medical.' The old army medical board had proved itself incompetent, divided, and overly preoccupied with private practice. Its demise and replacement by an improved 'new medical board' was predictable after the disaster of Walcheren...."

The British did destroy the port of Flushing, costing 50 million francs in damage, but it spent some 8 million pounds to know defeat.

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Regina Jeffers loves all things Austen and is the author of several novels, including Darcy’s Temptation, Captain Wentworth’s Persuasion, The Disappearance of Georgiana Darcy and Second Chances: The Courtship Wars .
Her website is: www.rjeffers.com