One of the most singular and remarkable of the leading statesmen of the first half of the nineteenth century, Canning, who was the only serving prime minister to sit in the Commons in this period, possessed undoubted and enviable talents, not least of which was the rich and varied oratorical eloquence which gave him an absolute ascendancy in the House. Yet, if his extraordinary powers had raised him from the most unlikely of circumstances to the most exalted of positions of political pre-eminence (first minister in all but name by 1825) and had several times rescued his straggling career from the effects of undeserved bad luck and unwarranted personal misjudgements, they also lay at the root of the deep mistrust which long inhibited his promotion and finally wrecked the formation of his administration in 1827. For although within his own small circle he inspired sincere devotion and in the public mind epitomized the popular patriot, he was irrevocably tainted in the eyes of politicians at home and abroad. His undisguised ambition, his insatiable love of intrigue, his insufferable arrogance and, perhaps above all, his outrageous wit and sometimes vulgar conduct, aroused the unshakable suspicion of his professional colleagues and the savage hatreds of his bitter adversaries on both sides of the party divide. Damned at various times as a ‘jester’ (by William Cobbett†), an ‘actor’ (by Henry Brougham*) and a ‘charlatan’ (by the duke of Wellington), even as sympathetic an observer as John Wilson Croker* could joke that Canning ‘never took tea without a stratagem’, or could remark, in a perception that captured a not always articulated sense of unease about him, that his ‘mind’s eye squinted’.
Canning, who later remarked that ‘though I was accidentally born in London, I consider myself an Irishman’, was the son of a disinherited Anglo-Irish gentleman turned barrister and poet, who died on his first birthday, and an Irish beauty, who subsequently abandoned herself to the stage and two disreputable and fertile liaisons.
Yet his friend William Wilberforce*, who was not alone in the assessment, ranked him nearly as high as Pitt and Fox as a speaker and it was Canning’s dominance in the Commons which, not for the last time, preserved his career.
as to politics, never shall son of mine be by me plunged into that labyrinth. For seven years passed, I have thought of nothing but how to find my way out of it - and I cannot ... Politics have now nothing to offer, which I would cross my threshold to seize and enjoy. Nothing ... I toil on, like a horse in a mill, because I see not the opening by which I can escape from my thraldom.
But turning to his standing in the Commons, he continued:
I hear from many quarters, and from some with Mackintosh as their authority, that never was there such a display of power and brilliancy ... and that he (M) is convinced from what I did on that occasion that I have never yet done the half of what I can do. I know it (forgive the vanity, for it is indulged in spleen and disgust - not in exultation).
Add. 48221, f. 52.
Despond as he might, therefore (for despond he did), he could never relinquish his ambitions; almost in spite of himself, for in a sense he genuinely wished to withdraw from Westminster politics, he was yet to achieve his greatest triumphs in Parliament.
Writing at the turn of the decade to his wife, who was then residing abroad, Canning used classical characters as thinly disguised ciphers (Mars for the prince regent, the Magdalen for Liverpool, Endymion for Castlereagh), and it was significant that he began by referring to himself as Manfred, a wretched outcast, but soon substituted Marcus (Aurelius), an exile waiting to be recalled to a post of honour.
Thinking that he would soon be taking his departure, Canning was reluctant to involve his Liverpool sponsors in the trouble and expense of a contest that would soon have to be followed by a by-election.
Canning, who countered opposition attacks on the civil list, 5, 8 May 1820, complained to his wife on the 9th that the ‘ordinary worries’ of the session were augmented by his having to be in constant attendance in the Commons in place of the indisposed Castlereagh. He denied that government regularly employed spies as agents provocateurs, 9 May, when a riled Burdett took exception to being described with his Westminster colleague John Cam Hobhouse as the ‘honourable baronet and his man’ and accused Canning of being ‘drunk with insolence’; he did not hear this epithet, but was privately grateful for his Whig friend Sir Robert Wilson’s calming intervention.
With his wife, Canning travelled in the Low Countries, Germany, Switzerland, Italy and Austria that summer, returning to Paris in the autumn to await the end of the queen’s trial, as he was determined to avoid any Commons proceedings on the subject. Partly to this end, and so as to promote the administration’s best chance of surviving with some degree of strength and dignity intact, in October 1820 he urged Liverpool to bow to the inevitable fate of the bill in the Commons, if indeed it got through the Lords, and to withdraw it.
Canning left the India board, where he was widely reckoned to have performed well, and returned to Paris in January 1821, when his friend John William Ward* gave this assessment of him:
I hope he will return as soon as possible. Nothing ought to keep him long out of his natural element, the House of Commons. The position that awaits him there is so commanding, that I shall wonder if he is not in haste to occupy it. The greatest speaker in Parliament - generally owned, universally felt to be so, even by his enemies - standing well with the public, unshackled by office and by party, is indeed a formidable person. I doubt whether to such a man any place, except the highest, is not a loss of power and consideration.
TNA, 30/29/6/7/47.
Although William Huskisson again deputized for him on constituency business, his absence abroad was criticized in Liverpool, where a requisition was got up calling on him to resign his seat; it was also noticed in the House, where his friends Charles Ellis and Lord Binning had to come to his defence, 26 Jan., 9 Feb.
Dissatisfied with his prominence in the House when it seemed to bring him no prospect of office and disdainful of again essaying the leadership of a separate party, he wrote gloomily to his wife, 3 Apr. 1821, that, now aged over 50, he faced soon having to make an irrevocable decision about his future:
These thoughts come upon me at all times and seasons and often most unseasonably, even in the middle of the debate in the House of Commons I ask myself what is all this good for? Luckily I have yet enough of vigour and of the taste for applause in me, to forget everything, while I am actually speaking, except the subject and the glory of success. But that may not last.
In the course of further long letters, 13, 16 and 24 Apr., he weighed up the political and financial implications of accepting the home office, another department (probably the India board, possibly the admiralty), the governor-generalship, a retirement pension of £3,000 a year (which would be unpopular) and remaining as he was; or a combination of these, perhaps in conjunction with a peerage, which would at least relieve him from the heavy obligation to his constituency. What he described as his desperate state of affairs was caused by significant debts, amounting to over £30,000; an annual income of only £2,200, which was barely adequate to meet his necessary outgoings; the impossibility of reducing his already straitened household budget, unless Gloucester Lodge were sold; and the prospect of the additional expenditure to be incurred in bringing out his daughter Harriet when his wife returned to London, and in entertaining lavishly beyond his salary on regaining office. Another consideration, which could hardly be answered by employment at home, was his earnest desire to recoup her fortune for the future benefit of their children; in an undated letter to her he related that, of an original £75,000, £33,000 had been laid out on an unprofitable estate at Deeping in Lincolnshire, £12,000 remained in the stocks and £30,000 had been spent, including on electoral costs. Despite her strong opposition to going to India, over the course of the following year it must have become increasingly clear that taking the annual salary of at least £25,000 was the only practical alternative available to him.
Having discussed his options with Liverpool and taken six weeks’ leave, 30 Apr. 1821, Canning returned to Paris and so missed Russell’s reform motion in early May.
Ellis and Huskisson were dismayed that this apparently inexplicable refusal allowed the door to further advancement to be shut against him by the king, who made no offer to Canning during the ministerial negotiations in December 1821, and because it exposed him to half-justified misinterpretations.
Canning, who missed the opening of the session through illness, voted against more extensive tax reductions to relieve distress, 21 Feb., and the abolition of one of the joint-postmasterships, 13 Mar. 1822. He presumably divided in the government minority against suppressing one of the junior lordships of the admiralty, 1 Mar., when Mackintosh noticed that he ‘sat through the debate smiling at the misery of his late colleagues’.
far surpassed everything I had expected of him. It was all that can be imagined agreeable in oratory; nothing certainly profound, or generalizing, or grand, or electric, but for good taste, for beauty of language, for grace, playfulness and all that regards manner and display, it was perfect.
Moore Jnl. ii. 557, 559.
Determined and confident, despite the fears of his pro-Catholic allies that it would endanger the main question, he displayed what Mackintosh termed ‘extraordinary ingenuity and resource’ in introducing his bill to permit Catholic peers to resume their seats in the Upper House, 30 Apr., when leave was granted by 249-244.
As fate would have it (for to him it was fate not luck),
In fact, in the first days of September 1822 Canning was indignant at hearing nothing beyond popular conjectures about the certainty of an advantageous promotion.
What is provoking enough to drive one mad, while I am thus making the greatest sacrifice that ever man made, I shall be accused of having intrigued for an office and a station which will harass and impoverish me and which I am no more fit for; but let us not anticipate evil. It will come time enough. As to health, India is nothing to the House of Commons, such as now, for the first time in my life and after 29 years surfeit of it, the House of Commons must be to me.
Canning to wife, 3, 6, 8 Sept. 1822.
Once again, it was his standing in the chamber which induced the cabinet, with the notable exception of Lord Eldon, the lord chancellor, who threatened to resign, to urge his appointment.
To general surprise, he entered office almost alone, which to Brougham indicated how desperate he had been to avoid exile in India. He stipulated principally for the advancement of Huskisson, whom he rated highly for his financial expertise, although Greville dismissed him as Canning’s stooge.
Canning’s present position is unique. The opposition hates him; the king loathes him; the ministers distrust him; those who want him do not like him. His personal following is a mere drop in the ocean and, with that exception, there is not a soul in the United Kingdom who has the slightest respect for him. In spite of all these reasons for keeping him out, public opinion demands him and he will receive the most important post in the government.
Private Letters of Princess Lieven, 206.
In sum, as Wellesley, the lord lieutenant of Ireland, was informed in December 1822, it was now admitted that Canning was ‘in a situation of great peril and that his success will be glorious or his failure signal’.
His appointment as foreign secretary, a position rarely held by a commoner until the twentieth century, was hailed in one of the many pamphlets about (or addressed to) him in the 1820s as the triumph of ‘intellect over aristocratical bashawry’ and a portent for the adoption of more enlightened attitudes.
Of his arrival at the foreign office in 1822, Canning, who admitted to being daunted by the difficulties he faced, opined to Bagot that
ten years have made a world of difference and have prepared a very different sort of ‘world to bustle in’ from that which I should have found in 1812. For fame, it is ‘a squeezed orange’, but for public good, there is something to do, and I will try, but it must be cautiously, to do it. You know my politics well enough to know what I mean when I say that for ‘Europe’ I shall be desirous now and then to read ‘England’.
Dorset RO, Bankes mss D/BKL, Canning to Bankes, 28 Sept. 1822; Bagot, ii. 138.
Given that the king’s prerogative severely restricted his freedom of action in foreign affairs, it was not supposed that he would be able to break Britain’s alliances.
Although several of their colleagues would have preferred Peel, who had dispassionately bowed to his fellow secretary of state’s seniority, most Tories were agreed that the leadership of the Commons was an office which only Canning could fill.
certainly he presents more sore places to the eye of the amateur than most men. Moreover his coin is now about cried down, at least hardly current. He is stampt as a joker, and therefore dares not joke: not to mention that hard figures of arithmetic are too hard to be got over by figures of rhetoric. All these things, and his gout and irritability, I try to console myself withal.
Creevey’s Life and Times, 162-3, 166; Creevey Pprs. ii. 49-50.
He had then thought that ‘every kind of furious attack should be made from this moment to the meeting of Parliament’, when he predicted that, having come a cropper, he ‘will sooner or later be flung overboard, if he is not killed by his irritable habit, his government, and the "wear and tear" of the House, as now conducted’.
He spoke against government intervention to relieve distress, 14 Feb. 1823, privately admitting that giving up his own plan to assist agricultural mortgages would ‘spare me many a wearisome debate’.
Canning was apparently ‘feeble’ in helping to rally support for Plunket, the Irish attorney-general, against Brownlow’s censure motion, 15 Apr., but was reported to have spoken ‘very well’ against repeal of the Foreign Enlistment Act, 16 Apr. 1823, when Lord Folkestone accused him of ‘truckling’ to the French.
In mid-July 1823 Canning wrote to Bagot that the session had been tedious, though relatively short:
But yet ten hours a day for five days in the week for seven weeks consecutively is hard work, and such has been the nature of our campaign since Whitsuntide [18 May]. It is no relief to the physical suffering that the matters whereon we were engaged were matters of comparatively little interest. I have, however, gone through it pretty well, and by dint of extreme abstinence (which I find the best rule) without any detriment to health, though worn both in mind and body.
Referring to the year’s one significant parliamentary battle, he continued boastfully that
I wish you could have seen the ultrageous faces - ultra in either extreme - at the first interview I had with them after the 30th of April. Since that time I have had pretty much my own way, and I believe you may now consider my politics as those of the government, as well as of the country.
Bagot, ii. 178-80.
In a long letter to his school friend John Hookham Frere† that summer, Canning reflected wistfully on the possibility of retirement and of how, in resigning India, he had given up ‘the solid for the shining, ease, wealth and a second public life in the House of peers, for toil, inconvenience and total retreat after a few, a very few years of splendid trouble’. Reiterating his feeling of exhaustion, he also emphasized that
you can have no conception of the labour which I undergo. The two functions of foreign secretary and leader of the House of Commons are too much for any man, and ought not to be united; though I of course would rather die under them than separate them ... My business has been rather to defeat prophecies and to disappoint calculations of evil, than to seek occasions for what I do not want - additional kudoz in debate. I have been very forbearing in combat, using the scalping-knife never above once or twice, and almost disusing keener and brighter weapons, till I am in danger of being thought exceedingly dull. This, because it was prophesied I would ‘lay about’ me. As to the conduct of business, I have studiously and anxiously put Peel and Robinson as forward as possible, never taking concerns out of their hands ... and only supporting them en second ligne where necessary.
G. Festing, Frere and Friends, 256-63.
This self-effacement was criticized by some as weakness, and Henry Hobhouse, referring particularly to his silence on the narrowly defeated motion criticizing the conduct of the lord advocate relative to the Borthwick case on 3 June 1823, summarized that ‘it was felt that he did not fill the same space in the House Lord Londonderry had done and it appeared to many that he was shy of defending his friends when in a difficulty’.
In spite of Canning’s efforts to woo the Americans, one of whose envoys he took with him to attend a dinner in Liverpool in August 1823, his negotiations with Rush over the future of Latin America broke down amid mutual distrust the following month.
I think Canning and I tried which could speak worst, and that I beat him by a trifle; but their side was so infinitely flat, and even dead, that it had the appearance of his having made the worse figure of the two. Accordingly people are crying out in all quarters on this. It was really singular to see one in his situation never get even a cheer, except one or two from us.
Brougham, Life and Times, ii. 465-6.
This set the tone for an unsatisfactory session.
After government had been defeated by two votes in a small House on Curwen’s motion on the criminal jurisdiction of the Isle of Man, 18 Feb. 1824, Canning apologized to Peel for his accidental absence and instructed Stephen Rumbold Lushington, the patronage secretary, to introduce a new style for the notes requiring ministerialists’ attendance.
In April 1824, when Wellington was convinced that Liverpool meant to nominate Canning as his successor in the event of his retirement, he almost provoked his own dismissal by attending, against George IV’s wishes, the City of London dinner hosted by the radical and former Queenite lord mayor, Robert Waithman*. Mrs. Arbuthnot observed that ‘Canning thinks himself so popular now because the Whigs cry him up that he fancies the king cannot get rid of him and defies him’, but Canning retorted to the prime minister, who successfully intervened in his defence, that he considered his presence to be an official duty and that ‘I have as good a right as any public man of the present day not to be suspected of courting popularity by a compromise with Jacobinism’.
Commenting on the likely break-up of parties in the event of Liverpool’s demise, Buckingham speculated to Wellesley in June 1824 that the ‘High Church party and Tories are loud in their expression of dislike to Mr. Canning’, who ‘puts the opposition in his front, as the rebels in Ireland used to do oxen, cows, sheep and jack asses, in order by them to open a passage for himself, leaving them to be slaughtered’; thus, although he would ‘command a strong body, by his talents and the liberality of his views’, any government he formed would be ‘a very weak one’.
Buckingham, who in December 1824 discovered that Canning had insisted that the Irish unlawful societies bill should specifically name the Catholic Association but not the Orange Order, rightly suspected that he
had made up his mind to kick the Catholic question out of his own way, and that he would endeavour to throw it into ours, by holding us up as supporting the violent opinion of the Catholic question while he, although agreeing with us in principle, would hold himself up as the moderate man applying his principle to the test of time, etc.
Fremantle mss 46/11/115.
But rumours of a complete sell-out seem to be belied by Williams Wynn’s statement early the following year that Canning had spoken ‘in cabinet of the near approach of the time when it might no longer be possible to keep this question in abeyance’.
Canning accepted that he had a difficult task ahead of him on the introduction of the unlawful societies bill, and he reported to his wife that ‘they run so entirely at me, partly with compliments and partly with reproaches, that I hardly know if I shall be able to keep my counsel and hold my tongue’.
Oh ho! thought I, here is one good at least. Here is an end to all our trouble about the bill. As to [the] Catholic question, a debate on that can do nobody any harm but the Catholics, and as I am not responsible for the time of bringing it on, I care not a straw for the issue. All this I thought: but I only said that the removal of the bill removed one objection, and that I would see what I could do with my Catholic friends.
Although he judged such a discussion ill-timed and mischievous, he considered that he had now gained ‘an assured and intelligible position upon a ground hitherto doubtful and slippery’ and that ‘I may perhaps hereafter, but at my own time and in my own way, be enabled to do some good to Ireland, and to bring this most intractable question to a pause, if not a final settlement’.
Called out of a diplomatic dinner to attend an unexpectedly difficult sitting of the House, 22 Feb. 1825, he later gave this account of the outcome of wearing inappropriate clothing: ‘I go down, get blasted through and through in the cold passages, and wake the next morning with a pain in every bone and a throat full of tumours and rawnesses’. Unwilling by his absence to provide a scapegoat for a possible defeat, he was suffering from gout on returning to the chamber for Burdett’s motion, 1 Mar., when he was excused for defaulting on the previous day’s call. He spoke early and only for about 20 minutes, but, as he reported to his wife, ‘I put at least two hours’ worth of speakable matter into that space and tried quite a new genre of speaking, which had prodigious success, such as becomes an elderly gentleman with a stick’; he then went home, having secured Nicholl as a pair.
The cabinet crisis which was nearly provoked by Peel’s threatened resignation on this issue took a new twist on Canning’s taking offence at Liverpool’s decisive intervention against the relief bill in the Lords, 17 May 1825.
the Catholic question should no longer remain upon its existing footing (viz. one on which ministers were not to communicate with the king or with each [other] in cabinet), but that henceforth he and every other member of the cabinet should be at liberty to bring it forward for discussion in cabinet and Parliament when and how he pleased, and should be at equal liberty to communicate upon it, if he should so think fit, with the king.
This was agreed unanimously, Eldon being unavoidably absent, by the cabinet, 20 May, and as such marked a significant alteration in the nature of the ‘open’ question. However, his proposal for a compromise on the issue was rejected by the ‘Protestants’ at further meetings, 24, 25 May, after which, despite being sorely tempted to resign, he decided to remain in order to try his hand again in the new Parliament.
It was at Canning’s insistence that the intended dissolution was postponed in the autumn of 1825: according to Wellington, when the cabinet considered letters from the grandees Lonsdale and Rutland in favour of delaying the general election on financial grounds, Canning retorted, ‘I don’t care ... for their expense. I am glad of it. All I am anxious for is to obtain a favourable Parliament for the Catholics’.
if in the first session of a new House of Commons, the vote of the last House of Commons shall be affirmed, I do not say that the House of Lords will yield, but I say they may. It will be in that case a new question; and such an expression of opinion by a House of Commons fresh from the people would enable the House of Lords to reconsider their former votes without dishonour.
D. Plunket, Life, Letters and Speeches of Plunket, ii. 213-17; S. Lane-Poole, Life of Stratford Canning, i. 386.
Acting individually, on 19 Oct. 1825 Canning cautiously transmitted a copy of this letter to the king, who merely returned his ‘thanks’ for what he termed an ‘admirable’ document; at least, as Canning confided to Granville, ‘it is a great thing to have begun with His Majesty upon a subject which hitherto has been considered as interdicted ground’.
In January 1826 Joseph Jekyll† recorded that Canning ‘looks shockingly and twenty years older than last year. The campaign of fatigue and anxiety, too, will soon be upon him’.
in a very bold and uncompromising tone, that if the House chose to adopt the proposed measure they must also be prepared to find ministers to execute it, for that they would not; and this he repeated very steadily and, to the ears of some of the country gentlemen, offensively.
Croker Pprs. i. 314-16.
Only the negligence of the opposition prevented a defeat, which as Canning wryly remarked, ‘would have been a mighty foolish kind of death’.
Canning dealt patiently with Buxton’s attempt to revitalize the anti-slavery issue, 1 Mar. 1826, and rebuffed Denman’s motion condemning the Jamaican slave trials the following day. He commented privately that Wilson’s question about France’s continued occupation of Spain, 10 Mar., ‘could not have come from a quarter less likely to do mischief’, and, although he as usual dispatched Hume’s quibbles about unavoidably increased diplomatic expenses, 17, 22 Mar., he could not resist ‘quizzing’ Granville about the parliamentary notice taken of the inflated cost of the new ambassador’s residence in Paris. By the Easter recess he considered that ‘our difficulties are beginning to disperse’, and recorded that
I do not know any session in which three departments of the government have been so ably and satisfactorily represented in the House of Commons as by Huskisson, Peel and Robinson, on their three respective days of exhibition. As for mine, it gives me no trouble, nor opportunity in the House of Commons though plenty, God knows, within the walls of Downing Street.
TNA 30/29/8/8/438, 439.
According to Tierney, Canning ‘made a very dextrous speech but did not seem to me to be in earnest or to like what he was doing’, in defending the ministerial salaries of the treasurer of the navy and the president of the board of trade, 10 Apr., when, as Creevey noted, Hobhouse’s supportive and ‘affectionate address was received with a very marked titter ... from the Old Tories at the expense of both Hobhouse and Canning’.
Having given notice, 1 May 1826, next day Canning introduced a measure for allowing the release of bonded corn in order to relieve agricultural distress, and indicated that government intended to take powers to permit the importation of foreign corn if the autumn harvest failed. These proposals, which despite his insistence that ministers would stand by their pledge to make no general alteration of the corn laws that session, threw the country gentlemen into furious consternation.
In October 1826 Tierney apparently stated that ‘there is no opposition ... the parties now are the government and the Canningites’, but neither Wellington, who smothered the effect of York’s demand that George IV should dismiss his foreign secretary, nor Canning, who rebuffed Buckingham’s suggestion of a union with the Grenvillites, was yet willing to resort to open conflict.
Having caught a chill while attending the funeral on 20 Jan. 1827 of his old enemy York, who was thus posthumously responsible for his lengthy last illness, Canning joined Liverpool in Bath, but nothing came of his expectations that the ailing prime minister would take this opportunity to resign in his favour. Succumbing to lumbago, inflammation and headaches, he retreated to Brighton, where the Cannings had recently bought a house at 100 Marine Parade; it was later supposed that he used a curious octagonal study close to the sea as a soundproofed room in which to practice his speeches, but in fact his convalescence in February was the only time he stayed there.
In a letter of 21 Feb. 1827, in which he rebuked Huskisson for risking the postponement of two crucial debates, Canning insisted that it was ‘of vital importance to launch the corn question under the shadow of Liverpool’s authority though in abeyance’, and that the ‘single solitary chance of an amicable arrangement of the government lies in a vote of the House of Commons on the Catholic question taking place while the government is in abeyance’. After a flurry of correspondence with Peel and Burdett, these unavoidably delayed motions were eventually fixed for 1 and 5 Mar.
Lady Liverpool having signalled her husband’s resignation, Canning was at Windsor on 28 Mar. 1827, when Princess Lieven described him as ‘quite ready for an explosion’ at the king’s mischievous procrastination, especially in his appearing to favour Wellington.
how should he be able to show his face to those to whom, in and out of Parliament, he had always asserted ... that the Catholic question was an open question ... if he should allow it to be proved in his person, that those whose sentiments were favourable to the Roman Catholics were to be excluded solely on account of those sentiments ... from the highest elevations in the state?
The following day the king asked Canning to request the cabinet to select a leader, but, on Peel’s intervention, this was rescinded and nothing was decided when ministers met on the 31st.
On 10 Apr. 1827 George IV commissioned Canning to form a government, in which Catholic emancipation was still to be treated as a neutral issue. The immediate consequence, through a combination of wilful misunderstanding and splenetic indiscretion on both his and Canning’s part, was that Wellington resigned from the cabinet and the command of the army.
Canning was elected in absentia for Seaford’s eponymous pocket borough, 20 Apr. 1827, when he officially became chancellor of the exchequer and prime minister.
As the contemporary pamphlet war demonstrated, the defining issue facing Canning’s administration was the intractable religious one.
a divided government under Lord Liverpool is a very different thing from one under Mr. Canning. With Lord Liverpool’s conscientious and early established feelings on the Catholic question the smallest introduction of Catholic matter was autant de gagné. In Mr. Canning’s government, the professed friend of the Catholics, the innoculation of the smallest quantity of Protestant virus is autant de perdu. What then are the Catholics to gain by his government?
Fremantle mss 46/12/108.
Furthermore, even if Canning had been able to raise emancipation as a government question without the king dissolving his ministry, the passage of any relief bill through the Commons had been shown to be precarious, and as for the Lords, Croker calculated that the majority against government, which generally stood at about 90, would still have been 41 on any Catholic measure.
Although Bagot could confidently assert that ‘for the Commons Canning is himself all sufficient’ as a speaker, he was hard pressed by a series of rancorous and debilitating debates about his ministry after the Easter recess.
On 22 May 1827 Canning wrote that ‘the government is, I really believe, established’, and later that month his cabinet was given greater authority by the addition of Lansdowne (without portfolio), Carlisle (woods and forests) and Tierney (master of the mint). Although he claimed that in the Commons ‘our majority would be immense’, he did not expect there to be any divisions of confidence that session in either House, but only the continuation of the campaign of futile harassment kept up by a ‘wretched, disgraceful and disgusting opposition’.
it is a great misfortune that the Lords take so narrow a view of their present situation, that they cannot see that we are on the brink of a great struggle between property and population; that such a struggle is only to be averted by the mildest and most liberal legislation.
Canning’s Ministry, 391, 394, 397; Canning Official Corresp. ii. 321.
Having justified the expense of maintaining British forces in Portugal, 8 June, and dealt with another anti-slavery debate, 12 June, he introduced his temporary bill to permit the release of warehoused corn for sale at a price of 60s. a quarter, 18 June, and again repeated his belief in the basic soundness of his proposals in opposing Knatchbull’s amendment, 21 June 1827.
Describing himself as excessively busy from the ‘necessity of attending the House of Commons daily at 5 o’clock and the multitude of morning consultations which the business of Parliament brings with it’, he gave his last extra-parliamentary speech at the dinner for Sir John Malcolm*, the newly appointed governor-general of Bombay, 13 June, and made his last intervention in the House, answering a question about a Scottish sinecure, 29 June 1827.
Canning died at 3.50 am on 8 Aug. 1827, in the same house, but not the same room, as Fox 21 years earlier, so ending the shortest premiership (110 days) in British history.
if Canning had had a fair field, he would have done great things, for his lofty and ambitious genius took an immense sweep, and the vigour of his intellect, his penetration and sagacity, enabled him to form mighty plans and work them with success; but it is impossible to believe that he was a high-minded man, that he spurned everything that was dishonest, uncandid and ungentlemanlike; he was not above trick and intrigue, and this was the fault of his character, which was unequal to his genius and understanding. However, notwithstanding his failings he was the greatest man we have had for a long time, and if life had been spared to him, and opposition had not been too much for him, he would have raised our character abroad and perhaps found remedies for our difficulties at home.
Greville Mems. i. 361-2.
His popularity was shown by the crowds attending his private funeral in Westminster Abbey, 16 Aug. 1827, when he was buried, fittingly enough, near the foot of Pitt; statues to his memory were erected there and in Palace Yard, as well as in Liverpool.
By his last will, which was the one he had drawn up on 20 Sept. 1809 prior to his duel, Canning bequeathed all his property to his wife. His personalty was proved under £20,000, but it was claimed that his residual estate amounted to less than £4,000.
Canning hardly matched the beau idéal of the character of Wentworth, for which he was supposedly the model, in Robert Ward’s De Vere (1827), but there was something noble about his appearance.
Tall, over six feet in height, he had an upright, rather thin and singularly manly figure; the head well set above the shoulders. He dressed as became a gentleman - as far removed from slovenliness as from foppishness. The head was grandly fine, very bald; small whiskers; the features strongly marked, yet approaching delicacy of cut and firmly outlined; the forehead high and broad, giving proof of large creative power and indomitable energy and determination, yet combined with a grace and gentleness of manner that would hardly be miscalled if called womanly.
Hall, i. 155-6.
Amiable in his private life, Canning’s penchant for elaborate jokes, his immense articulacy and quicksilver brilliance in public debate were well known, if not always admired.
his talents were astonishing, his compositions admirable, that he possessed the art of saying exactly what was necessary and passing over those topics on which it was not advisable to touch, his fertility and resources inexhaustible.
But he also averted to Canning’s tenacity in argument:
Any difference of opinion or dissent from his views threw him into ungovernable rage, and on such occasions he flew out with a violence which, the duke said, had often compelled him to be silent that he might not be involved in bitter personal altercation.
Greville Mems. i. 183-4.
Although Brougham was jaundiced in his assessment of ‘the distinguishing error of his life ... that no one can usefully serve his country, or effectually further his principles, unless he possesses the power which place bestows’, it was Holland who provided the most telling judgment on Canning’s overweening ambition:
He was not ill-tempered, but wrong-headed and had ‘la main malheureuse’, always contriving to turn the worst view of his conduct towards the public, that this arose very much from over-refinement and from aiming at high delicacy of sentiment.
Brougham, Hist. Sketches, i. 278-9, 288; Moore Jnl. ii. 462.
For Byron, Canning was ‘a genius - almost a universal one; an orator, a wit, a poet, a statesman’, while Croker dubbed him ‘our last, our best, our only orator’.
it is scarcely an exaggeration to affirm that in his single person were united all the highest gifts of eloquence which nature had distributed among the most eminent of his parliamentary competitors: a lucid, close and forcible logic, effective alike for the establishment of truth and the exposure of absurdity, hypocrisy and pretension; an elevated tone of declamation, appealing not so much to passion as to what was noblest in thought and sentiment; a stream of imagery and quotation, rich, various and yet never overflowing the main subject; a light ‘artillery of wit’, so disciplined that not a shot of it flashed without telling upon the issue of the conflict; an unfailing, yet constantly diversified, harmony of period and a magical command of those lightning words and phrases which burn themselves, at once and for ever, into the hearer’s mind.
Twiss, Eldon, iii. 5-9.
This predominance in debate made him an adept, if unusually lively, leader of the House, and Littleton later compared the stolid Althorp unfavourably with Canning, who had ‘an air of quickness and intelligence greater than ever distinguished man’.
Peel, his distinguished rival, told me one day, in speaking of Mr. Canning, as to this particular, that he would often before rising in his place, make a sort of lounging tour of the House, listening to the tone of the observations which the previous debates had excited, so that at last, when he himself spoke, he seemed to a large part of the audience to be merely giving a striking form to their own thoughts.
Sir H.L. Bulwer, Hist. Characters, ii. 428.
He was, in the words of Liverpool’s nineteenth-century biographer, ‘the last among us who has been at once a statesman and an orator’.
Canning, whom contemporaries sometimes found it hard to categorize either as a Tory or a Whig, was one of the most energetic of the moderate Evangelicals, who in the mid-1820s drew forth a new liberal strain within the upper ranks of the Tories’ political hegemony.
there has been but one man for many years past able to arrest this torrent, and that was Canning; and him the Tories, idiots that they were and never discovering that he was their best friend, hunted to death with their besotted and ignorant hostility.
Greville Mems. ii. 41, 45, 182, 200.
But, ironically, the very spirit of liberalism that Canning had nurtured and the fractured party system left in his wake perhaps contributed to the eventual success of the Grey ministry’s reform bill in 1832.
Canning has been linked facetiously with Darwin’s theory of evolution and more solemnly with Neville Chamberlain’s† diplomacy in the late 1930s, but his real legacy ultimately lies on each side of the Victorian two-party system.
I certainly hope that Canning may succeed, for though at one time ambition sullied his conduct, he has recently stemmed the torrent of evil from the Holy Alliance and recalled the English government to noble and better principles. At the present moment his ambition and patriotism are identified, for he owes his present rise to the voice of the public, and the voice of the public to his liberal principles.
NLW, Ormathwaite mss G29.
