Lord Salisbury soon discovered that underneath a bluntness that was sometimes a little disconcerting, there was a man of honour and conviction. The British plenipotentiary was a just man who recognised that he had to deal with one who was too fearless to be diplomatically suave.
Soon the two men came to appreciate each other's qualities. Ignatieff told Lord Salisbury not to believe anything he told him until he had first assured himself of its truth. There is one quality in an Englishman that no one appeals to in vain, and that is his sportsmanship. Whether by accident or design, Ignatieff had struck the right note, and henceforth Lord Salisbury and he worked loyally together for peace.
The Turks were far from pleased with the course events were taking, and Lord Salisbury became extremely unpopular. Sir Edwin Pears in his fascinating book, Forty Years in Constantinople, has written that "Lord Salisbury may even be said to have been hooted out of the city."
He could not, however, succeed in the face of Disraeli's policy of antagonism, and the sending of a plenipotentiary to Constantinople was little more than a farce,—a sop to British public opinion.
After he left Constantinople, General (or to give him his full title Count Nicholas) Ignatieff, became Minister of the Interior, and at one time President of the Slavonic Society.
On the day of the Slavonic Saints, Cyril and Methodius, this Society generally holds its Annual Meeting, attended by from 1000 to 2000 members. On one such occasion the Ignatieffs invited me to dine at their house and to go to the meeting with them. The Countess, by the way, was as good a Slavophil as her husband. At the conclusion of the meeting, the Count made a very enthusiastic and eloquent speech, to which we both listened attentively. Suddenly, to my great dismay and annoyance, I heard him say in a loud voice: "And here is a Russian lady who is serving our patriotic cause abroad," etc. etc.
Taken aback by this unexpected demonstration, I heartily wished myself at the Antipodes, and this wish increased when almost the entire audience surrounded me to express their effusive gratitude. It really was a terrible moment, though of course it was kindly meant....
But to return to 1876. The Conference at Constantinople had broken up, I was then in Russia, and Lord Salisbury had left the city conscious of his own unpopularity. He had endeavoured to impress upon the Turks that against Russia they stood alone, that is as far as Great Britain was concerned. Abdul Hamid knew Great Britain's suspicions of Russia, and upon this he relied. The awakening came on April 24 (1877) when Russia declared war against Turkey and Great Britain remained neutral, holding a watching brief.
The public attitude towards myself at this period was one of very obvious hostility. The frank and open friendship existing between Mr. Gladstone and the "notorious agent of the Russian Embassy in London," did not pass without comment, and certain busybodies became very active. Mr. Gladstone was said to have "compromised" himself politically by writing letters to the "agent" of a foreign Power which was at the very time being threatened with war by Great Britain. It all seems very absurd now, but in those days, when public opinion was at boiling point, it was not a matter to be treated lightly. We were accused by the Press of conspiracy.
We in Russia were constantly asking each other what would be the attitude of England. On the eve of war our newspapers ascribed to England the following plans: (1) To occupy Athens and Crete, preventing Greece by all means from rising and helping us; (2) refusal to permit Russian vessels to pass Gibraltar; (3) and occupy Constantinople if Turkey gets too great a thrashing. I confess that I was at a loss as all these suggestions were tantamount to a declaration of war against Russia. Those were days of terrible anxiety.