A World on Fire_ Britain's Crucial Role in the American Civil War - Amanda Foreman [17]
The British legation was established in Rush House at 1710 H Street, only a block from Lafayette Square, where the White House, the State Department, and many of Washington’s grandest mansions were clustered. Rush House was large enough to accommodate the chancery, the business end of the legation, and was sufficiently imposing to impart an air of consequence to diplomatic functions. Lord Lyons’s arrival created a stir similar to the excitement described by Jane Austen after the leasing of Netherfield Hall. “The gossips at once set about predicting that the newcomer would capitulate to the charms of some American woman, and speculation was already rife as to who would be the probable bride,” wrote Mrs. Clay, the wife of Senator Clement C. Clay of Alabama.24
It was soon discovered, however, that Lyons, with his little round face and droopy eyes, was neither a Mr. Bingley nor a Mr. Darcy. Mrs. Clay received a “formidable card to the first Senatorial dinner given by the newly arrived diplomat” and decided this was her chance to collar him for a Southern belle. “I soon became emboldened to the point of suggesting to him the possibility of some lovely American consenting to become ‘Lyonised.’ His Lordship’s prompt rejoinder and quizzical look quite abashed me, and brought me swiftly to the conclusion that I would best let this old lion alone.”25 Lyons had quoted Tristram Shandy at Mrs. Clay, but his arcane reference to Uncle Toby’s habit of sleeping “slantindicularly” not only passed over her head but made her wonder whether the new British minister was quite sane.
Mrs. Clay’s encounter with Lyons confirmed the general impression in Washington that he had replaced the Napiers but would never supplant them in the capital’s affections. Varina Davis, the wife of Senator Jefferson Davis of Mississippi, wrote that people thought Lyons “very taciturn and very stupid.”26 Lord Napier gave his final speech in the United States on April 15, 1859. “I can never forget or requite the incessant kindness … offered to me by the American people,” he told an emotional audience at Astor House in New York. The following day, the press commented on the coincidence that Britain’s two most popular exports should make their farewells to America on the same night. The fifteenth also marked the last performance of the comedy Our American Cousin. It had run for 140 nights, a feat never before achieved in the history of American theater.
Lord Napier’s popularity had proved his undoing at the Foreign Office. “Napier is much too frank and too yielding to the Yankees,” the then prime minister, Lord Derby, had complained, “and they take advantage of him in every way.”27 Napier’s friendship with Senator Seward was considered symptomatic of his mistaken priorities. The Foreign Office was not interested in having a minister who understood the Americans’ point of view. The choice of Lord Lyons to replace the adored Lord Napier—a decision that seemed incomprehensible to Washington—made perfect sense to London. Lyons’s views on America were generally in keeping with those of the Foreign Office: he was well disposed to its people, but he thought that democracy made the government weak and handed too much power to the violent and ignorant elements of society. If Lord Lyons were to feel concern over whether the Americans liked him, his superiors in London were confident such insecurities would be sublimated by his renowned sense of duty.
Lord Lyons soon realized that Napier had not been exaggerating when he described America as the “Castle Dangerous” of British diplomacy. His first request to the Foreign Office was for more staff; “considering … the very great importance of not giving offence and the extreme readiness of people here to take it, I think that few ministers abroad have so much need of a private secretary’s help as I have.”28 Already it was apparent to him that the taking and giving of offense had become a reflexive habit in Anglo-American relations since the separation of 1775–83. For prudence’s sake, he had decided to “gratify their vanity