Lord Lyons: A Record of British Diplomacy, Vol. 2 of 2

by Baron Thomas Wodehouse Legh Newton

Sir Henry Layard had incurred even greater execration than Lord Lytton in the eyes of the Liberal Party, because he was considered to have been deeply committed to what was described as the Pro-Turkish policy of the Conservative Government, although his inexpiable offence seems to have consisted chiefly in strenuous and unavailing efforts to induce the Turks to put their house in order. During his stay at Constantinople he had been greatly hampered by the consistent opposition of his French colleague, M. Fournier, whose great object it appeared to be to thwart English action whenever opportunity occurred. The French Government, which professed great anxiety to act in harmony with England, upon ascertaining that Sir Henry Layard was to be replaced by Mr. Goschen,[29] withdrew Fournier and appointed M. Tissot in his place.

A change in the French Embassy in London was also imminent, and the circumstances attending the appointment of a new Ambassador were not devoid of humour.

Admiral Pothuau, the Ambassador under the Waddington régime, had been forced to retire, probably much against his inclination, and it was considered that M. Léon Say would make an excellent representative, more especially as he passed as that rara avis, a French Free Trader; but M. Say shortly after accepting the appointment was elected President of the Senate, and therefore forced to resign. To find a satisfactory successor was apparently not so simple a matter as might have been assumed. Nothing could have been more correct than M. de Freycinet's ideal of a French Ambassador in London: 'a man possessing the full confidence and sharing the sentiments of his Government; not so much of a politician as to be thinking more of establishing his own political position at home than of following his instructions: a man who would stay long at the post, and desire to stay there; who would form personal friendships with English Statesmen, and improve good relations and soften asperities by personal influence. A man calculated to take a part in a society like that of London, and who would not be out of place at a Court—a man who would have a wife with the same qualities—finally, a man not unaccustomed to diplomatic business and diligent and accurate in transacting it.' When, however, the question passed from the abstract to the concrete, M. de Freycinet's ideas ceased to flow so freely, and he seemed utterly at a loss to find the ideal being which his imagination had sketched, although he mentioned M. Challemel Lacour—as a man who would not do. In spite, however, of M. Challemel Lacour being in M. de Freycinet's opinion a man 'who would not do,' it was evident that he had a powerful backing, for an emissary from the French Foreign Office shortly made his appearance at the Embassy and intimated in so many words that the appointment of M. Challemel Lacour would be agreeable to Gambetta. That no doubt was a considerable advantage, but M. Challemel Lacour by no means corresponded to M. de Freycinet's ideal representative, being a man of unconciliatory character and particularly notorious on account of a speech which he had once made, in which, alluding to political opponents, he had used the words Fusillez moi ces gens là! an expression which was continually being quoted against him. In the meanwhile, however, M. de Freycinet had had an inspiration, and sent for Lord Lyons to tell him that he had discovered just the right man for the place. Unfortunately, this personage was married to a lady whose antecedents were not considered to be satisfactory, and it became necessary to intimate that under the circumstances the appointment would not be favourably received in England.

'Freycinet was dreadfully put out,' wrote Lord Lyons, 'when he found that the appointment was impossible. He complained chiefly of Léon Say for having brought him into the difficulty, by first accepting the London Embassy and then standing for the Presidency of the Senate.

'Léon Say's picture of the lady is about as much like what she was when I last saw her a few years ago, as Challemel Lacour is like Freycinet's ideal of a French Ambassador in London.'

The appointment of M. Challemel Lacour was persisted in, and gave rise to some very disagreeable discussions in the House of Commons. Doubtless much of the abuse of M. Challemel Lacour was undeserved, but whatever his political capacity, he was not remarkable for urbanity.

On the occasion of a big official dinner at the Paris Embassy, when requested to take in the absolutely unexceptionable and agreeable wife of one of his principal ministerial colleagues, he replied with an emphatic 'Jamais!' which precluded any further discussion.

The question of diplomatic appointments recalls the fact that it was about this time that my connection with Lord Lyons first began, through becoming a member of his staff, and that it may be appropriate to say something about his habits and personal characteristics.

Lord Lyons, who was then more than sixty years of age, was a big, heavily built man, whose appearance in no respect suggested the diplomatist of fiction, and who rather resembled the conventional British squire as depicted by Leech; and the chief characteristic of his somewhat homely features was a small piercing eye which nothing seemed to escape, from the most unimportant clerical error to a minute detail in a lady's dress. As compared with the ordinary English diplomatist, his knowledge of foreign languages, without being exceptional, was thoroughly adequate. He, of course, spoke French with perfect facility, and it is probable that he wrote it with greater correctness than many Frenchmen, having a complete mastery both of the grammar and of all the complicated expressions which are made use of in correspondence. He was also equally at home in Italian; had a knowledge of German, and was well acquainted with modern Greek. In addition, he was a fair classical scholar, and a peculiarly retentive memory enabled him, unlike most people, to remember much of what he had read. His manner, at first sight, seemed somewhat alarming, and he was altogether a person with whom no one would have felt disposed to take a liberty, but the alarming impression, which was solely due to shyness, wore off with closer acquaintance as the natural kindliness of his disposition revealed itself, and one of the excellent traits in his character was, that he never formed a favourable or unfavourable opinion of any one in a hurry, but invariably waited for the test of time. The result was, in almost every case, that the more he saw of people the more he liked them and the more reluctant he became to part with men who had been associated with him for any length of time. The position which he occupied in British diplomacy during the twenty years which he spent at Paris may, without exaggeration be described as unique. No other man stood on quite the same footing, though it would be idle to deny that there were some who were perhaps more brilliant. But the implicit confidence which successive Foreign Secretaries placed in Lord Lyons's judgment was based upon the knowledge that his opinions were sound, unprejudiced, disinterested, and only formed after the most conscientious investigations. 'I never volunteer advice,' he used to remark, and it was perhaps for that very reason that his opinion was so frequently sought by the Foreign Office. In fact so much importance was attached to his views that he was occasionally asked to give his opinion upon subjects of which he had no knowledge whatever, ranging from the defence of Canada to the minimum dress allowance required by the wife of a British Ambassador at Paris. As he had no intention of seeking a consort himself, and as he had no intention, either, of resigning his post, the latter inquiry (which was made in 1870) appears somewhat superfluous; but, it may be worth noting, that as the result of conscientious researches, he reported that £1000 a year was considered to be necessary.

As to his merits as a chief, every one who had ever been associated with him was of the same opinion, and it was generally held at the Foreign Office that service under him at the Paris Embassy was a liberal education in itself. It may be doubted, however, whether his capacity and love of work were not to some extent a disadvantage to his subordinates, since his industry was so great that it left them comparatively little responsible work to do. At the Paris Embassy the ordinary routine work is probably greater than at any other Embassy with the exception of Constantinople, but there was scarcely anything, however trivial, which he did not attend to himself. It is believed in some quarters that an Ambassador leads a dignified, luxurious and comparatively unoccupied life, but that was emphatically not the case with Lord Lyons. He rose early and began the day by carefully studying the more serious French newspapers; the whole of the time up to luncheon was spent in writing or reading despatches, or attending to the various small questions which were continually occurring. In the afternoon he worked again until about 3 or 4 p.m., and then usually went to see the French Foreign Minister or paid official calls in connection with current business. Upon his return he worked again until dinner unless interrupted by visitors, who were often of a tedious and uninteresting type, and it not infrequently happened that telegrams would arrive at a comparatively late hour of the night which it was necessary to deal with immediately. All correspondence which arrived at the Embassy, no matter from how insignificant a source, was attended to by him personally, and elaborate directions given with regard to the replies, which were invariably sent with the least possible delay. His industry was only equalled by an almost preternatural caution, which showed itself in a variety of ways. The reluctance to give advice has already been noticed, but his excessive caution showed itself not only in writing, but in conversation, and even amongst intimates he rarely expressed opinions on men or things which it would have been unsafe to quote in public, although his conversation was marked by much dry and original humour of that elusive character which cannot be described on paper. It was practically impossible to catch him napping. 'The Juarez (Mexican Revolutionary) Minister having left his card upon me without any official designation, I have returned a card also without an official designation,' he wrote from Washington in 1859. His reticence during the prolonged Trent crisis has already been commented upon. 'I received by the last mail,' he wrote to Sir Henry Elliot in 1867, 'a letter from Hussein Khan, containing nothing but complimentary expressions. Not wishing to be outdone in civility, I have written a reply in the same strain. It has, however, occurred to me as just possible that Hussein Khan may desire to appear to be in correspondence with me for some particular object, and that there may be something which has occurred since I saw him, which might render it advisable that he should not be in correspondence with me. Accordingly I send my letter herewith open to you. If you see any reason, however slight, for not forwarding it, please destroy it, and take an opportunity of telling Hussein Khan that I asked you to thank him for his letter to me.' It will be remembered that even Queen Victoria was unable to draw him successfully on the subject of the Treaty of Berlin. Similar instances might be quoted indefinitely, and as an illustration of his caution in private life it may be mentioned that he never stirred a yard outside the house without a passport. A man of this temperament was not likely to make mistakes, and it is a remarkable fact that throughout a correspondence extending over something like forty years, there is not to be found a single expression in any official communication addressed to him which could by any stretch of the imagination be described as a censure or even as a criticism of his proceedings.