A World on Fire_ Britain's Crucial Role in the American Civil War - Amanda Foreman [14]
Ill.1 The Napier Ball at Willard’s Hotel, Washington, D.C., February 17, 1859.
“Lord Napier has exerted himself very much to assist me in every way,” wrote Lyons gratefully in mid-April, “and has done all that was possible to start me well both socially and politically.”6 Privately, he was relieved that his education in the complexities and nuances of American politics had begun during the quiet season. Lyons had never previously heard of the term “Mason-Dixon Line,” yet every person he met described himself as living either above or below this boundary. Napier explained to him that it was the cultural as well as geographical divide between the North and South.pr.3 Although America was one country, Lyons would discover that it was two distinct regions whose ties were straining over the question of slavery. Above all else, warned Napier, a British minister must not become embroiled or be thought to take sides in this fractious debate.
Napier used the term “minister” because there were no ambassadors or embassies in Washington. In the mid-nineteenth century there were only three British embassies abroad: Paris, Vienna, and Constantinople. The rest of the world had to make do with second-tier “legations,” which functioned in the same way, only with less pomp and a smaller budget. These were headed by a representative with the longwinded title of “British envoy extraordinary and minister plenipotentiary,” or “minister” for short. Naturally, there was a hierarchy; the British minister to the United States ranked lower than his colleagues in Russia and Spain, but above those in Greece, Denmark, and Bavaria. Languishing below the legations were general consulates, which were reserved for countries of unproven stability in places like South America.7
The British legation was the largest and most important of the diplomatic missions in Washington. With the exception of the French legation, the other twenty-one were insignificant establishments. The nine Latin American ministers were too impoverished to receive visitors; the Austrian legation consisted of one minister living in a hotel, and the Italian minister loathed the capital so much that he lived in New York.8 The burdens placed on the British minister were also greater than those faced by his foreign counterparts. Lyons was not only the conduit between London and Washington but also Her Majesty’s guardian over the two and a half million British expatriates living in America.9
The tumultuous history between the two countries made every British minister a soft target for American politicians. Lyons was sent to Washington with the same set of instructions and warnings that had accompanied each of his predecessors. He was to improve relations between the two countries and must be prepared to accept that the kindness bestowed on him in private would be matched by untrammeled hostility in public. Lyons was also to expect a regular whipping from the White House and Congress.10
Lyons was used to loneliness. “A trained diplomatist is reserved while appearing open,” wrote a nineteenth-century journalist; “one who has the air of telling you everything, and yet tells you nothing; who seems to go with you all the way, yet advances never an inch beyond the line he has drawn for himself.”11 This described Lyons perfectly. He was tactful and discreet to the point of parody; outside his work he had few interests that could not be met by a comfortable chair and a warm fire. Many years later the Paris police compiled an intelligence report on Lyons that consisted of one line: On ne lui connait pas de vice (“He has no known vices”).12 His most regular female correspondents were his two sisters, particularly his youngest and favorite, Minna, who was married to the Duke of Norfolk. Lyons’s horror of “scenes” made him so reticent that for years he put up with the same breakfast every morning rather than risk upsetting his