Castlereagh: Enlightenment, War and Tyranny

by John Bew

No British statesman of the nineteenth century reached the same level of international fame as Lord Castlereagh, or won as much respect from the great powers of Europe or America. Yet no British statesman has been so maligned by his contemporaries or hated by the public. His career took him from the brutal suppression of a bloody rebellion in Ireland to the splendour of Vienna and Paris. He imprisoned his former friends, abolished the Irish parliament, created the biggest British army in history, and redrew the map of Europe. At a time when the West turns from idealism to realism in its foreign policy, Castlereagh's reputation is being revived. Yet neither his detractors nor his defenders have truly understood this shy, inarticulate but sometimes passionate man. In this book, John Bew tells the story of Castlereagh from the French Revolution through the Irish rebellion, the Napoleonic Wars, the diplomatic power struggles of 1814-5 and the mental breakdown that ended his life. John Bew paints a magisterial portrait not only of his subject but the tumultuous times in which he acted. Rather than the tyrant of legend, Castlereagh was a man whose mind captured the complexity of the European Enlightenment as much as any other. His mind was conservative and enlightened at the same time - and no less the one for being the other.

Genres: History, Biography, Ireland, British Literature, Nonfiction, Politics, 19th Century

722 pages, Hardcover

First published September 22, 2011

About the author

Librarian Note: There is more than one author in the Goodreads database with this name.

John Bew is Reader in History and Foreign Policy at the War Studies Department at King's College London and Director of the International Centre for the Study of Radicalisation and Political Violence. In 2013 he became the Henry A. Kissinger Chair in Foreign Policy and International Relations at the Library of Congress. From 2007-10, Bew was Lecturer in Modern British History at Cambridge University, where he was also educated. He has published several books and papers, writes for the New Statesman, Irish Times, London Review of Books and Spectator, among others and appears regularly on television and radio including Newsnight, The Review Show, the Today Programme and Sky News. He is currently filming a documentary for the BBC on Lord Castlereagh. He lives in London, and lectures in political institutions around the world.

Reviews

[Anthony · Rating 5 out of 5]

From Ecstasy to Agony

Robert Stewart, 2nd Marquess of Londonderry was known for the majority of his adult life and throughout his political career by his courtesy title, Viscount Castlereagh. A man now buried in Westminster Abbey, who was brilliant and controversial in equal measure. What is undeniable he was at the forefront of British and Irish politics from 1790 when he entered the House of Commons to when he tragically committed suicide by cutting his throat at the age of 53 in 1823. As such he is extremely important in understanding British and Irish history but is also a huge figure during the Napoleonic Wars. John Bew has written the ultimate and complete biography of this important man.

We start the journey with a history of Ireland and the history of the Stewart of Mount Stewart, the ancestral seat of this Scottish Presbyterian family who were part of the ascendancy, as much of his key contemporaries in British political and military systems were. The Duke of Wellington and George Canning were also part of this class. He became Chief Secretary of Ireland in 1798, an almost thankless job, his first task from Dublin Castle was to quell the Irish rebellion of 1798 and was at the forefront of the Act of Union in 1800 which followed as a result. The rebels were hanged and Castlereagh had tried to gain clemency for some of them, however this has been overlooked as Bew shows. In Irish history as a result he has become a hated figure.

In 1807 he became Secretary of State for War and the Colonies during the long struggle of the Napoleonic Wars and was instrumental in the promotion of Arthur Wellesley, the future Iron Duke, who would stop the Corsican at Waterloo. Castlereagh also implemented essential reforms in the army and ensured that Wellington was able to stay in Spain during the Peninsula War and gain support from London. Where he really hit the world stage was as foreign secretary, in the twilight of the wars and its aftermath at the Congress of Vienna. Here navigating titans such as Prince Klemens von Metternich and Tsar Alexander I of Russia Castlereagh was able orchestrate the Concert of Europe, where no major European war was fought until 99 years later with the outbreak of the First World War. Was this system successful or not? The reactionaries after the war tightened on censorship and police states, only broken with the revolutions of 1848 and minor wars were fought across Europe, for example the Crimean War and the Franco-Prussian War, however I would suggest it was a successful peace in the wake of the upside down world Napoleon left.

Castlereagh was one of the lost influential foreign secretaries in British history, and was considered at the time to be a successor to the Earl of Liverpool as prime minister. It could have happened. Castlereagh performed well at the Congress of Vienna and managed to place Britain where it needed to be. Britain’s aims were to maintain the balance of power and not become involved in the conservative Holy Alliance devolved by Alexander. He also ensured France wasn’t completely crushed by sanctions, important in checking the powers in the east. Bew is an admirer of Castlereagh and this is a refreshing re-look at this important man. However, Bew does show some of his weaker elements. For example, he was a poor speaker, which in Georgian politics, was useless in the House of Commons. There has often been a criticism of Castlereagh’s lack of intellectual knowledge, but this can be linked to his lack of ability as a speaker. He was pragmatic, going against the romantic outlooks of the age. It is probably this poor performance as a speaker, he was no Winston Churchill after all, which contributed to this view.

Castlereagh: Enlightenment, Tyranny and War is an excellent biography by a talented and thoughtful writer. It takes us not only on the full journey from the days of Chief Secretary for Ireland and the Act of Union, the rivalry with Canning, the friendship and support of Wellington, the diplomatic type rope of the Congress of Vienna to his tragic mental ill health and suicide. But also of a private man, who although had no children was close to his wife Amelia and younger half brother Charles Vane-Stewart. One of the most talented and important men in British politics and the Napoleonic Wars. A great read.

[Mark · Rating 4 out of 5]

When Robert Stewart, the second Marquess of Londonderry, who until recently had been known by his courtesy title Lord Castlereagh, committed suicide on 12 August 1822, many people greeted the news with an unseemly amount of glee. Though his funeral did not spark the rioting feared by the government, some onlookers jeered the hearse as it took his body for burial at Westminster Abbey and cheered when the coffin was unloaded from it. Yet among those who reveled in his death, none could surpass the wit of the poet Lord Byron, who composed a verse celebrating the event that ended with the epigram: “Posterity will ne’er survey/A nobler grave than this/Here lie the bones of Castlereagh/Stop, traveller, and piss!”

While such sentiments were at odds with the feelings of most who knew Castlereagh well, they were a fair barometer of his standing among the public in both Britain and Ireland. Many in his homeland condemned him for his leading role in the passage of the Act of Union in 1801, which they saw as a fatal sacrifice of Irish sovereignty to British rule. Radicals criticized him for his support as Foreign Secretary for the illiberal regimes that dominated Europe in the aftermath of Napoleon Bonaparte’s defeat, and for his role in suppressing movements for reform at home. In John Bew’s estimation, however, such criticisms are grossly unfair, and have resulted in a historical image of the man that is at odds with many of the details of his actions and views. His biography offers a powerful corrective to this image, one in which he makes the case for a more sympathetic appreciation of one of the most polarizing and consequential statesmen in British history.

Among the greatest of these misconceptions that Bew seeks to address is that of Castlereagh as a hidebound reactionary. As he notes, Castlereagh was born into an upwardly mobile Irish Presbyterian family at a time when the denomination was experiencing a theological and political awakening influenced by the ongoing Scottish Enlightenment. Bew sees within Castlereagh’s career a tension between the ideas of this movement, with notions of improvement and civic virtue playing out against the need to acknowledge the existing socioeconomic order. These ideas placed young Castlereagh amongst the Whigs in Ireland’s politics, yet their hopes for his contribution to their goals were disappointed by the polarizing events of the 1790s. Dismayed by the ongoing revolution in France, Castlereagh opposed the radical United Irishmen movement, and even led militia in arresting some of its members. It was this participation in the government crackdown which contributed to the coalescence of the perception of him as a reactionary.

Nevertheless, as Bew notes, Castlereagh remained committed to a variety of reforms, most notably the political emancipation of Ireland’s Catholic majority. To that end, he began lobbying for a political union between Ireland and Great Britain that might enable such a measure to circumvent the strongly anti-Catholic majority in the Irish Parliament. Named Chief Secretary for Ireland in 1799, he used his position as the head of the island’s administration to push through a measure dissolving the Irish Parliament and incorporating its representation within an expanded British Parliament. Though he achieved this through a mixture of promises and bribes, the promised measure for Catholic emancipation that was to follow union foundered on King George III’s adamant refusal to approve any bill containing it. Not only did this result fatally poison the Union in the minds of Irish Catholics, but it also unfairly saddled Castlereagh with the blame of having sold out Ireland’s sovereignty for false promises, which damaged his image permanently among many in the Anglo-Irish Establishment.

Castlereagh’s failure to win emancipation did little to damage his career, however. Now a member of the Parliament in Westminster, he soon joined the Cabinet as the President of the Board of Trade. As one of the few members of the government in the House of Commons, Castlereagh quickly emerged as one of William Pitt’s key deputies, with his importance only growing after the prime minister’s death in 1806. With most of Pitt’s successors presiding from the House of Lords, Castlereagh played a key role in shepherding vital legislation through the lower House, and often defended government policies before the body. Bew also credits Castlereagh for building up the British army during this period, when as Secretary of State for War he championed reforms that aided its transformation into the effective force that would soon be employed successfully by Castlereagh’s friend, Arthur Wellesley, against the French in the Peninsular War.

Starting in 1812, Castlereagh was able to provide the British campaign there with additional support from his new position as Foreign Secretary, an office he would occupy until his death a decade later. Bew’s examination of this phase of Castlereagh’s career takes up nearly half of the book, which gives the author substantial space in which to detail the development of his policies at a vital moment in European history. Throughout these pages Bew presents Castlereagh’s foreign policy as driven foremost by realpolitik, with his political sensitivities often subordinated in pursuit of whatever arrangements might best achieve the nation’s goals. Foremost among them at the start of his term was the need to assemble a new coalition to take on Napoleon’s empire, which at that time had established an unprecedented dominance over the Continent. While aided by the turn in the Napoleon’s fortunes following his invasion of Russia, Bew credits Castlereagh with making the most of the diplomatic opportunities created by the battlefield victories, which worked in tandem to bring about the emperor’s downfall.

In the aftermath of Napoleon’s exile to Elba, Castlereagh traveled to Vienna to participate in the resettlement of Europe. There he participated in extensive negotiations with some of the most powerful men on the Continent, all of whom pursued their own separate and contrasting agendas. Lacking a territorial agenda, and enjoying a boost in bargaining strength won by British forces at the battle of Waterloo, Castlereagh used it to ensure that the eventual peace settlement was not a punitive one, but one that restored France to the ranks of the Great Powers. Though Napoleon marveled from his second exile in far-off St. Helena the Foreign Secretary’s failure to impose a “victor’s peace,” Bew sees Castlereagh’s generous treatment of France as wholly in keeping with his goal to restore long-term political stability in Europe. That he did so in conjunction with the autocratic monarchies in Russia, Austria, and Prussia and restored the Bourbons to the French throne only fueled further the image back home of Castlereagh as a reactionary, which proved more enduring than the brief outburst of popular support in the heady glow of Britain’s triumph.

For all of Castlereagh’s unpopularity with the British public, he survived in office thanks to the support of the Prince Regent and the prime minister, Lord Liverpool, both of whom came greatly to value Castlereagh’s labors on their behalf. Their backing allowed Castlereagh to survive public and parliamentary hostility towards his polices, which focused on maintaining British influence in the service of what was still regarded as a fragile peace. This he believed was best accomplished by avoiding direct intervention, and serving instead as an impartial arbiter between the various powers as they sought to maintain what seemed a fragile peace in the aftermath of decades of revolution and war. This fear of a resurgent revolution also influenced the Liverpool government’s domestic policies, and in the wake of rioting, an assassination attempt on the Regent, and a failed plot to murder the entire government, Castlereagh spearheaded the passage of repressive legislation through the House of Commons. This contributed greatly to the strain Bew chronicles during this period, and by 1821 Castlereagh repeatedly described himself to friends and family as “worn out” from the many burdens he shouldered.

More troubling in retrospect was the increasing paranoia that Castlereagh exhibited in the final months of his life. While Bew speculates as to its possible causes – ranging from a possible venereal disease contracted in his youth to a long-festering case of rabies resulting from a dog bite – he oddly downplays the role the enormous and unremitting stress Castlereagh endured in the final years of his life. This is especially surprising considering how well it fits with the portrait he paints of a sensitive man too harshly judged by many of his contemporaries. Bew’s biography makes enormous strides in rehabilitating his subject by showing the nuance in his policies and highlighting his considerable legacy for both Britain and Europe more generally. Yet Bew never addresses the germ of the criticisms directed towards Castlereagh by his contemporaries – namely that when faced with the choice between pressing for reform or deferring to the desire for the traditionally-oriented status quo, Castlereagh consistently opted for the latter. Given the times in which he lived, such a choice may have been understandable, but exploring it may have helped shed light into why such an accomplished figure still requires rehabilitation two centuries after his death.

[The American Conservative]

'There is nothing worse for the reputation of a major historical figure than to be reduced to the status of a cartoon villain. That is the fate to which the memory of Robert Stewart, Viscount Castlereagh (1769-1822), has often been consigned. Instead of simply rehabilitating his subject, John Bew’s generally sympathetic Castlereagh aims to understand his thinking and motives more completely than previous studies have done.'

Read the full review, "The Man Who Put Europe in Order," on our website:
http://www.theamericanconservative.co...

[Lauren Albert · Rating 3 out of 5]

Put it down to a tragic personality flaw, I just can't do it. 2/3 of the way through and I feel like I'm watching paint dry. I tried. I really tried. I read the good reviews. I contemplated my mental health. But alas, I give into my lack of moral strength and give up. In deference to my own insufficiencies and all the good reviews (and my relief at not having to read any more) I allow it a "3."

[Mason · Rating 4 out of 5]

Either my taste or the quality of the fodder has evolved. After reading Castlereagh I can say with no equivocation that biographies don't suck. Sure, they can be dense. Sure, the biographer can wax hagiographer. When the work is complete, however, biographies can offer an unexpected windows into complex periods.

In this book, Bew presents not only a flattering picture of the successes and utter failures of Lord Castlereagh's life. He also shows how the immediate aftermath of the Napoleonic wars maintained structures that governed the relative peace of nineteenth century Europe and pointed the way to an utterly unpeaceful twentieth century.

Mercifully, Bew tackles the complexities of this career foreign servant and his times in small bites. With a little patience, the reader is rewarded with a new understanding of history, as well as a carefully lit historical figure to ponder.

[Dr G · Rating 5 out of 5]

In his Preface, Professor Bew refers to some of the varying opinions about Robert Stewart (subsequently to become Lord Castlereagh), and about comparisons between him and his rival George Canning: “about realism versus idealism, intervention versus non-intervention, and unilateralism versus multilateralism”. He quotes some impassioned critics of Castlereagh: he “bolstered imperial reactionaries for 100 years” and was “the loathed manipulator of that conservative car-boot sale that was the Congress of Vienna, which resulted in the denial of the Enlightenment and put most of the freedom won in the French and American revolutions on hold for a century.” He also quotes the poet, Byron’s, unrelenting vituperative obloquy.
However, Bew states that “This book is not intended as an intervention into these recent debates. It aims to consider Castlereagh on his own terms, in the time in which he lived, and to understand his foreign policy within the broader context of his career. The book is predicated on the belief that neither Castlereagh’s admirers nor his detractors have fully understood this enigmatic man.”
In my view, one of the achievements of Bew is to offer a fair and comprehensive assessment of this early philosophical conservative. And I think the value of that accomplishment goes beyond the benefits of historical accuracy and beyond the benefits of fairness to the memory of a historical figure. I see the sort of all-encompassing derision, of which Bew shows Castlereagh to have been a victim, as still present in the twenty-first century political landscape. There are still individuals who are demonised and vilified in such a way as to suggest they are hypocritical and self-seeking, ludicrously irrelevant and worthy of no serious consideration. And all this is based on the stance they have adopted.
There are probably four main elements to Castlereagh’s early life which must be understood. (1) His family was part of the non-Catholic ruling class in Ireland; (2) they were not of the Church of England establishment, but were non-conformists, Presbyterians; (3) as a young adult, he supported home-rule for Ireland, and associated with groups which were active in pursuing that goal; (4) when the French Revolution was underway, he decided he needed to see for himself how this cataclysmic movement was working, and so he spent some months observing in France and the Low Countries; the consequence of this first-hand observation was to decide that revolution was too dangerous a way to achieve change, and that change must be brought about through legal and careful steps.
The third of these points probably is the reason so many of his critics were so viciously passionate in their denunciations of him. The fourth provides the reason for many of the decisions he subsequently made and for his change from an all-embracing home-rule posture to a more nuanced posture. He had opposed the Ancien Regime and supported the fall of the Bastille, and never supported British – or other European – intervention to seek the restoration of the Bourbons. He was horrified by the excesses of the revolution and he was sceptical about the capacity of the philosophes to understand the realities of the bigotry of hoi polloi.
At this stage he made the first of many wise observations about revolutionary activity: “When the people substitute the will of a despot with the will of their own, arbitrary Government appears in its most finished form; there it admits of no correction, no palliation; its power is as unlimited as the will on which it depends absolute; it is physically as well as politically supreme, and not being under any necessity of attending to those principles which are binding upon individual man, it exercises almost the omnipotence of a God.” By now, in the twenty-first century we have had the opportunity to see many, many revolutions which have led to the succession into powerful positions of unreconstructed psychopaths. There has been much evidence to validate Castlereagh’s position.
On this basis, he repudiated the separatist attempts to enlist Britain’s enemy, the French, to land their navy in Ireland in support of insurrection. His stand on this – consistent with his view on the dangers of any revolutionary actions – led to the impassioned, implacable hatred of him of separatists who had formerly seen him as an ally.
He was, at the same time, a pragmatic viewer of the whole picture and considered Catholic emancipation was principled, logical and an essential foundation to future Irish peace. Unfortunately, King George and a number of recalcitrant English MPs resolutely refused to look at Catholicism without lenses coloured with the prejudices of Guido Fawkes and Queen Mary or, for that matter, King James and Queen Elizabeth. One certainty of the human condition is the durability of impassioned tribal hatred. Interestingly, many of the Catholic activists also rejected his emancipation attempts; they did not want any dilution to their victimhood.
When his proposals for emancipation were shown to be impracticable because of the imbroglio of prejudices, he accepted that reality and focused on other matters which had some chance of resolution – although he repeatedly returned to emancipation in subsequent years when he thought the climate might have changed.
As War Secretary from 1805, his interactions with Nelson and his friendship with Arthur Wellesley, and enthusiastic championing of Wellesley as a military leader, he was to have enormous influence. His reformation of the army was vital and he kept a steady hand on the campaign against Napoleon in Spain.
Castlereagh generally opposed colonial expansion if it required expensive military support, His involvement in negotiations during and after the Napoleonic Wars were marked by fairness without bellicose posturing or vindictiveness. In fact, after Napoleon was defeated, he resisted the drive to punish France, believing that that nation’s stability would be of great importance in stabilising the future Europe. Interestingly, Bew quotes Napoleon’s view at the time that Castlereagh’s peace was lunatic, “after all the wealth which she has expended”. “I could scarcely have treated him worse, the poor wretch, if it had been I who had proved victorious.”
Rather than lunatic, however, his position was wisely pragmatic: Britain’s moral authority would be lost ‘by an injudicious use of our influence. If we intermeddled in the affairs of other states without sufficient reason – if we assumed a power of deciding upon the measures that it was proper for them in all cases to pursue – if we inveighed against the deviation that we disapproved – or if we endeavoured to direct their domestic policy, and interposed between the sovereign and his subjects on the ground of mal-administration – if we acted in this manner, the parliament of Great Britain would be no longer instrumental in communicating a right turn into the world.’ ‘If we begin to assume a dictatorial function towards other powers, we should become an object of deserved hatred. The mind of man could not devise a mode of interference more calculated utterly to ruin the unfortunate persons on whose behalf it was intended.’ He was perceptive enough to see that Europe had ‘a general disposition to impute to us an overbearing pride, and unwarrantable arrogance, and a haughty direction in political matters.’
It is manifestly evident from these situations why those who regarded him highly referred to his reasonableness, his patience, and his firmness. Further, he showed an unusual degree of modesty and self-effacement for the times, arriving at one treaty discussion as the only participant without a chest full of medals. (He had continued to provide lucrative appointments for his brother who showed no similar restraint of self-promotion and venality and received, apparently, little fraternal censoring.) Fascinatingly, in 1809 Castlereagh insisted on a duel with his old adversary Canning. Canning had never fired a gun and, on the second round of shots, Castlereagh shot him in the thigh. His honour satisfied, Castlereagh carried the wounded Canning to receive medical attention.
Bew does not pretend that Castlereagh was a paragon of all the highest qualities. His oratorical powers were apparently decidedly limited, with increasing use of malapropisms and grammatical solecisms. “One of the themes of this book is that Castlereagh had few opportunities to distil his political thought, and that, when he did – such as in France in 1791 or after the crisis over Catholic emancipation in 1800 – one can see more of the quality and clarity of his mind. A politician with more time, and perhaps more inclination to publicise his personal views, may have been regarded very differently by history. While Castlereagh’s understanding of economics was unimpressive, he continued to read widely in other fields.” Bew is consistently critical of Castlereagh’s cautiously gradualist approach to the abolition of slavery.
Castlereagh suffered frequent attacks by Whig and radical writers, many of them bitterly personal, including for his and his wife’s childlessness; there was regular stone-throwing at the windows of their home, and in February 1820 a plot was foiled to invade a Cabinet dinner, kill all, with Castlereagh’s and Wellington’s heads to be displayed on Westminster Bridge.
I was tempted to say that this incident demonstrated that the West has made significant progress in two hundred years in the ethics of its political machinations. But then I remembered January, 2021.
While I am greatly impressed by almost every aspect of this fine, balanced and wise book, I must again complain about an author’s overuse of the wretched Latin adverb “sic” which, these days is a pedant’s badge of honour. There are four immediate problems with this overuse: (1) it interferes with the text flow; (2) it requires an often random decision which non-current usages involve sicness (why is it not used for “politicks” on p426?) (3) It inevitably has a tinge of the author considering herself or himself superior to the source being quoted – especially when that source is contemporaneous; (4) it adds to the onus on the author and editor to be scrupulously correct (“comprising of the eight leading powers” on p 394: “comprising of”? Really?)
Finally, I was fascinated by one piece of information of which I was entirely ignorant until reading Bew’s book: In 1814 America declared war on Britain, mainly for trade reasons, and conflict over Canada. Britain occupied Washington DC, burning down the White House, the Capitol and some government buildings.
Lord Castlereagh is a figure from nineteenth century England whose actions and influence deserve to be well known. Professor Bew’s book provides an outstanding portrait.

[Peter · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book can be cut in two: Castlereagh in Ireland, and Castlereagh in London. The Irish section raises more questions than it answers. I did not have a clear picture of Castlereagh's role in the darker side of dealing with the 1798 rebellion or the act of union that followed. The act passed with the help of a massive amount of bribery. The author provides a weak defense of this, but never ties down Castlereagh's involvement. Castlereagh's critics would have had him as the bagman, handing out stacks of the public's money to buy a union they weren't in favour of. The author doesn't convince here.

Its a pretty good read otherwise. The author is on more solid ground when covering Castlereagh's time in london, possibly because he has more material to work with, possibly because the deeds are a bit less dastardy.

[Daniel · Rating 3 out of 5]

This biography of Viscount Castlereagh, the main architect of the Act of Union of 1801 and much else besides, is a significant piece of work. John Bew is also a very good writer, though the book is far too long - it really should have been 50% shorter in order to stop the argument getting lost in the detail. I think had he published with a more upmarket publisher, then this problem would have been ironed out. Historians always need to remember this principle: less is more. Nevertheless, the book is a significant contribution to Irish history and British foreign relations.

[Richard Ripamonti · Rating 5 out of 5]

A very long volume is necessary to capture the mystery of this taciturn Politician. Bew delivers a strong apology in defense of the Byronic criticism which has so long hurt Castlereagh's legacy. A profound exploration of his diplomacy during the closing stages of the Napoleonic Wars illustrates that although his ideas were not of timeless value, at the time they were crucial to the Peace which Europe enjoyed for decades.

Bew is an informative and stimulating read. Although I would not recommend to the casual reader, but for those who have a sustained academic interest in Castlereagh's diplomacy, character and historiography, this book is a must read.

Castlereagh's legacy is partially restored to its rightful place as THE greatest statesman Great Britain has ever produced.

[Alison · Rating 3 out of 5]

A little repetitive in the beginning about Castlereagh's early life, and not so well balanced about the politics and the man.

Overall a good read.

[Dave Appleby · Rating 3 out of 5]

A huge and exhaustive scholarly biography of one of Britain's most influential politicians never to become Prime Minister.

Castlereagh was born into the protestant landed elite of Ireland; his father soon became Lord Londonderry. After a year in Cambridge, the young Viscount became an MP in the Irish parliament; his career there ended when he fostered the Act of Union which abolished it on which he transferred to the UK parliament. As a protege of Pitt he soon rose through the Tory ranks and eventually became Foreign Secretary during the last few years of the Napoleonic Wars and, crucially, at the Congress of Vienna that determined the shape of much of Europe from 1815 until the end of the First World War. Seven years after that triumph he suddenly (in about a fortnight, it seems) became weary, paranoid and he finally committed suicide by cutting his throat.

His reputation, which is probably unfair, then and still, is of a right-wing reactionary. Bew spends a lot of time and amasses what I feel is significant evidence to counter this.

To be honest, the biography that would have had me riveted was that of Castlereagh's younger brother Charles who, as well as being an aide to Wellington in the Peninsula campaign and sending letters to his brother undermining his boss, was a bit of a ladies man for whom the Congress of Vienna was the perfect opportunity for, well, congress. His conquests included one of Wellington's nieces, a Russian princess and the former mistress of Metternich; he also paid multiple visits to the local brothels, Later, while investigating the infidelities of Princess Caroline so that the Prince Regent could get a divorce (set a thief to catch a thief?) he bought a fake Titian for £1200 and suffered the humiliation of having the small son of his mistress tell him that the man they had met in the street "comes to Mama when you go away". The fact that one of his amours turned out to be a spy was almost incidental. Later, back in England, he was ejected from the bedroom of an 18-year-old heiress (he was 38) by her governess, though, to be fair, he did go on to marry her. So much more colourful than his monochrome brother.

As usual I have quibbles about the use of foreign expressions without translation. Castlereagh is more than once described as having "mauvaise honte": it is French for bashfulness. Chapter 15 is entitled "A Lavaterian Eye": this relates to Johann Lavater (1741 - 1801) a Swiss theologian and physiognomist who popularised the belief that a person's character could be read from their face. If I, as a Doctor of Philosophy, need Google to understand a book, then it seems safe to conclude that it is not written for the general reader. The biography of Robert Peel, a younger contemporary of Castlereagh, by Douglas Hurd that I read recently was rather better written.

There seem to me to be a few mistakes. In Chapter 2.19 Bew says that Spenser Perceval was "gunned down in the chamber of the Commons" when all other sources say it was in the lobby. In Chapter 2.20 he describes the ruler of the Prussians as an Emperor rather than a King. In Chapter 3.10 Castlereagh wears a "Whig".

Authoritative but lengthy and rather heavy going. For the scholar rather than the general reader.

[Toby · Rating 4 out of 5]

Wendy Hinde's biography of Castlereagh was the first book recorded on my boos read list when I began it in sixth form and it's been 27 years since I did my undergraduate dissertation on the Congress of Vienna so that's plenty of time to forget everything I once knew about him.

The high point of his career, 1812-15, was still familiar to me. I can't quite forget the hours spent in the university library pouring over his despatches, but I had forgotten (or never quite appreciated) the significant role that he played as Minister for War in the years 1809-12 as he built up and resourced the British army to make it a fighting force capable of winning the peninsula war.

Bew spends a considerable amount of time focussing on Castlereagh's role in the Act of Union between Ireland and Great Britain and does well in expressing the complexities of that troubled period. He also does well not to leave Ireland behind once Castlereagh moves on to the wider European scene. His committed support for Catholic emancipation reminds us that he was not the wholehearted reactionary that contemporaries took him for.

Even so, and notwithstanding Bew's sympathetic portrait of Castlereagh, it's hard to escape the notion that public opinion was not wholly out of kilter in their opinion of him. He was one of the very few who voted against the abolition of the slave trade in 1807 and opposed the wholesale abolition of slavery in the colonies in the 1820s. Nor at Vienna or later did he push the case for European abolition. His conservatism was very much in the Burkean mould - and as an observer in Paris in the early 1790s he knew whereof he spoke - and defending him as a gradualist is understandable but still (in the present execrable phrase) put him "on the wrong side of history." His reserved and cold manner allied with unusually poor public speaking abilities did not help him.

His suicide in 1822 is covered but not morbidly so. Bew goes through the various theories as to why his mind collapsed so suddenly and concludes (most likely correctly) that the severe pressure of over work probably tipped him. This was an age when mental health crises were dealt with by bleeding and when suicide was not unusual in public life (Castlereagh was one of three prominent politicians to cut their throats the space of 8 years). Possibly his own introversion and poor public persona added psychologically to pressures that were not well understood at the time.

[Claire Binkley · Rating 5 out of 5]

Right now I find it best to read about such matters from a considerable distance. It sounds uncomfortable for hapless visitors.

My cat Matilda and I observed as much information as we could absorb as possible within a single library renewal period.

Overnight, I decided I had several options with this book.
I could: a) just abandon ship with this enterprise
b) try to give it a long, thoughtful review
or
c) change plans with what I wanted to do at Cambridge to involve what happened around the time period of Castleraugh's life

C seems most costly of the above options. The book said he lived around the early 19th century, and personally, from when I was in high school I remember researching the most around the late 19th century... (Because I did a huge Victorian England project at that time which my mother had absolutely adored!) I think I am settling with about as much of B as I can manage with my consciousness level since I don't think A or C are proper.

So. I particularly liked it, even though once or twice I spotted a misprint. That is logical enough, since 5689 km are nothing to sneeze at, after all. (The distance between here and there.)

If you are curious about this diplomat, look into the index of this book, since it is a bit on the long side to comfortably read all the way through in one library run even with a renewal!

[Frumenty · Rating 5 out of 5]

I've wanted to know more about Castlereagh since spending a semester, a couple of years ago, immersed in the history of the so called 'long 19th century.' British influence in Europe was at its height in the aftermath of the Napoleonic Wars, and Robert Stewart, Lord Castlereagh, was one of the chief architects of the European peace which survived more or less (if we discount the Crimean War) till 1914. I was not aware, before reading this, that Castlereagh, as Wellington's chief parliamentary sponsor, had also played a significant role in Napoleon's eventual downfall. Bew's biography is a substantial read, not to be undertaken lightly. The author's judicious and meticulous treatment of his subject matter is no less, for his wisdom, his courtesy, his gravity, and his humanity, than Castlereagh's due. The balance of power diplomacy that he practiced was pragmatic and it got results, but for much of his career he was reviled by the public and the press. The poets Byron and Shelley, for their vicious sniping, have sunk considerably in my estimation since I have come to know the real Castlereagh via this fine biography. Castlereagh, I think, is the most consequential statesman that, until quite recently, I had never heard of.

[Andrew Pratley · Rating 5 out of 5]

Lord Castlereagh is one of those figures in British who has been harshly treated by most especially Whig Historians. In this revisionist biography John Bew sets matters straight. I remember studying Castlereagh & the Congress of Vienna at University. I thought at that time that Castlereagh was a very effective Foreign Secretary. I didn't know about all the good work he had done as Secretary for War nor how he was instrumental in promoting his good friend Arthur Wellesley (The Duke of Wellington) into becoming commander in the Peninsula & how he had supported him in every way. Nor did I know about his Northern Irish background & his early struggles in Ireland which had rather unfairly damaged his reputation. For those interested in this fascinating period will certainly gain much from reading a really good biography of one of its central figures.

[Jeremy · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is a massive and interesting book - an intimate and exhaustive biography of Robert Stewart, Lord Castlereagh, and the role he played in the union of Ireland and England, the war against Napoleon and the successful establishment of the Congress of Vienna. Unfortunately the book presents more as a chronological collection of facts than as an integrated biography. Reading it was more a chore than a delight, despite the author's undoubted knowledge and expertise on his subject. In the final chapter the author weaves all the strands together in a masterful fashion - a pity he didn't do this throughout!

[Hugo Collingridge · Rating 5 out of 5]

An excellent biography. Before reading this, all I had known about Castlereagh were the poems by Byron and Shelley and I had assumed that he was some sort of pantomime villain, if l had thought about him at all. This book does a great job of describing a brilliant but flawed man, who made great contributions to Britain and Europe but also made plenty of mistakes. And a human, who did not deserve the tragic way he died. A bit of a doorstopper but well worth sticking with. John Bew's biography of Clement Attlee is great as well.

[Eve · Rating 5 out of 5]

While I read Wellington’s biography, I found Castlereagh name. It made me curious about his life and especially his death, so I purchased this book. I’d say I am satisfied despite the fact that this book didn’t quite answer the mystery of his death.

My verdict, this is a good book and well sourced. The author elucidate the politics and problems of the time well. However, I had a hard time following its extensive 18-19th century English quotes.


Edit: I just realized that Castlereagh (Robert Steward) was the second which happened to be british prominent figure who died in this manner. The first one was Robert Clive, arguably the man who paved the way of British Raj in India. Both men had attained highest level on their chosen paths and similarly hated by public and in the end cut their jugular veins.

[Leon O'Flynn · Rating 5 out of 5]

What a life!!! A really sad and gruesome ending to a man who played a part in many foundational events of the modern European system- especially the UK and Ireland. Well worth spending the time working away at this text, and I like the way the author writes.

[Rob Markley · Rating 4 out of 5]

Probably the best biography of Castlereagh so far, but while reading I felt there were some glaring weaknesses (which I don't recall specifics).

[meowti · Rating 5 out of 5]

My first book about Castlereagh :3 — very detailed and I really liked it

[Frank Kelly · Rating 5 out of 5]

FInally finished reading this magisterial biography of one of the greatest diplomats of modern times. Author John Bew really captures the man and his times superbly. It was complicated, violent time in Europe and Castlereagh navigated it better than anyone. The tragedy of his desperate, paranoid end is a stunning end to such a tough, seasoned politician. A great read and I highly recommend it to anyone interested in diplomatic history.

[Pat · Rating 4 out of 5]

A cautionary story on the price one may have to pay for not drinking from the frothy cup of democracy. Castle reach sought to do what he believed to be right in spite of the opprobrium it earned him. I do think the author could have cut some bits, but all in all, a good read and should get one to think about power politics and the limitations that have to be squarely faced in order to formulate good, sound policy.

[Kathy Cohen · Rating 2 out of 5]

My copy of this, by Oxford University Press, is title "Castlereagh, A Life." It is very much a political biography, beginning the narrative almost twenty-five years after the subject's birth. Robert Stewart, Viscount Castlereagh, participated in all the events of the late Georgian, Regency era--Irish revolts, civil unrest, the Napoleonic War, Congress of Vienna, and peacetime England. Very detailed.

[James Spencer · Rating 4 out of 5]

Excellent life and times of a little known (at least in the US) but important British statesman. I'm not sure Bew convinced me that Castlereagh doesn't deserve the condemnations he gets from everyone except very conservative thinkers but it nevertheless deserves to be read for the origins of real politic.

[Adi Dembak · Rating 4 out of 5]

The two English statesmen most responsible for shaping Europe in the Napolenic era were actually born six weeks apart in Dublin. The first is a household name, the second mostly forgotten.

This is a long-overdue biography of the second.