The United States has always been admirably represented at the
Court of St. James. I consider it as a rare privilege and a
delightful memory that I have known well these distinguished
ambassadors and ministers who served during my time. I was not
in England while Charles Francis Adams was a minister, but his
work during the Civil War created intense interest in America.
It is admitted that he prevented Great Britain from taking such
action as would have prolonged the war and endangered the purpose
which Mr. Lincoln was trying to accomplish, namely, the preservation
of the Union. His curt answer to Lord John Russell, "This means
war," changed the policy of the British Government.
James Russell Lowell met every requirement of the position, but,
more than that, his works had been read and admired in England
before his appointment. Literary England welcomed him with open
arms, and official England soon became impressed with his diplomatic
ability. He was one of the finest after-dinner speakers, and that
brought him in contact with the best of English public life. He
told me an amusing instance. As soon as he was appointed, everybody
who expected to meet him sent to the book stores and purchased
his works. Among them, of course, was the "Biglow Papers." One
lady asked him if he had brought Mrs. Biglow with him.
The secretary of the embassy, William J. Hoppin, was a very
accomplished gentleman. He had been president of the Union
League Club, and I knew him very well. I called one day at
the embassy with an American living in Europe to ask for a favor
for this fellow countryman. The embassy was overwhelmed with
Americans asking favors, so Hoppin, without looking at me or
waiting for the request, at once brought out his formula for sliding
his visitors on an inclined plane into the street. He said: "Every
American--and there are thousands of them--who comes to London
visits the embassy. They all want to be invited to Buckingham
Palace or to have cards to the House of Lords or the House of
Commons. Our privileges in that respect are very few, so few that
we can satisfy hardly anybody. Why Americans, when there is so
much to see in this old country from which our ancestry came, and
with whose literature we are so familiar, should want to try to get
into Buckingham Palace or the Houses of Parliament is incomprehensible.
There is a very admirable cattle show at Reading. I have a few
tickets and will give them to you, gentlemen, gladly. You will
find the show exceedingly interesting."
I took the tickets, but if there is anything of which I am not a
qualified judge, it is prize cattle. That night, at a large dinner
given by a well-known English host, my friend Hoppin was present,
and at once greeted me with warm cordiality. Of course, he had
no recollections of the morning meeting. Our host, as usual when
a new American is present, wanted to know if I had any fresh
American stories, and I told with some exaggeration and embroidery
the story of the Reading cattle show. Dear old Hoppin was
considerably embarrassed at the chafing he received, but took it
in good part, and thereafter the embassy was entirely at my service.
Mr. Edward J. Phelps was an extraordinary success. He was a great
lawyer, and the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court of the
United States told me that there was no one who appeared before
that Court whose arguments were more satisfactory and convincing
than those of Mr. Phelps. He had the rare distinction of being a
frequent guest at the Benchers' dinners in London. One of the
English judges told me that at a Benchers' dinner the judges were
discussing a novel point which had arisen in one of the cases
recently before them. He said that in the discussion in which
Mr. Phelps was asked to participate, the view which the United States
minister presented was so forcible that the decision, which had
been practically agreed upon, was changed to meet Mr. Phelps's
view. I was at several of Mr. Phelps's dinners. They were
remarkable gatherings of the best in almost every department of
English life.
At one of his dinners I had a delightful talk with Browning,
the poet. Browning told me that as a young man he was several
times a guest at the famous breakfasts of the poet and banker,
Samuel Rogers. Rogers, he said, was most arbitrary at these
breakfasts with his guests, and rebuked him severely for venturing
beyond the limits within which he thought a young poet should
be confined.
Mr. Browning said that nothing gratified him so much as the
popularity of his works in the United States. He was especially
pleased and also embarrassed by our Browning societies, of which
there seemed to be a great many over here. They sent him papers
which were read by members of the societies, interpreting his poems.
These American friends discovered meanings which had never occurred
to him, and were to him an entirely novel view of his own
productions. He also mentioned that every one sent him presents
and souvenirs, all of them as appreciations and some as suggestions
and help. Among these were several cases of American wine. He
appreciated the purpose of the gifts, but the fluid did not
appeal to him.
He told me he was a guest at one time at the dinners given to
the Shah of Persia. This monarch was a barbarian, but the
British Foreign Office had asked and extended to him every possible
courtesy, because of the struggle then going on as to whether
Great Britain or France or Russia should have the better part of
Persia. France and Russia had entertained him with lavish
military displays and other governmental functions, which a
democratic country like Great Britain could not duplicate. So
the Foreign Office asked all who had great houses in London or
in the country, and were lavish entertainers, to do everything they
could for the Shah.
Browning was present at a great dinner given for the Shah at
Stafford House, the home of the Duke of Sutherland, and the finest
palace in London. Every guest was asked, in order to impress
the Shah, to come in all the decorations to which they were entitled.
The result was that the peers came in their robes, which they
otherwise would not have thought of wearing on such an occasion,
and all others in the costumes of honor significant of their rank.
Browning said he had received a degree at Oxford and that entitled
him to a scarlet cloak. He was so outranked, because the guests
were placed according to rank, that he sat at the foot of the
table. The Shah said to his host: "Who is that distinguished
gentleman in the scarlet cloak at the other end of the table?"
The host answered: "That is one of our greatest poets." "That
is no place for a poet," remarked the Shah; "bring him up here
and let him sit next to me." So at the royal command the poet
took the seat of honor. The Shah said to Browning: "I am mighty
glad to have you near me, for I am a poet myself."
It was at this dinner that Browning heard the Shah say to the
Prince of Wales, who sat at the right of the Shah: "This is a
wonderful palace. Is it royal?" The Prince answered: "No, it
belongs to one of our great noblemen, the Duke of Sutherland."
"Well," said the Shah, "let me give you a point. When one of my
noblemen or subjects gets rich enough to own a palace like this,
I cut off his head and take his fortune."
A very beautiful English lady told me that she was at
Ferdinand Rothschild's, where the Shah was being entertained.
In order to minimize his acquisitive talents, the wonderful treasures
of Mr. Rothschild's house had been hidden. The Shah asked for
an introduction to this lady and said to her: "You are the most
beautiful woman I have seen since I have been in England. I must
take you home with me." "But," she said, "Your Majesty, I am
married." "Well," he replied, "bring your husband along. When
we get to Teheran, my capital, I will take care of him."
Mr. Phelps's talent as a speaker was quite unknown to his countrymen
before he went abroad. While he was a minister he made several
notable addresses, which aroused a great deal of interest and
admiration in Great Britain. He was equally happy in formal
orations and in the field of after-dinner speeches. Mrs. Phelps
had such a phenomenal success socially that, when her husband
was recalled and they left England, the ladies of both the great
parties united, and through Lady Rosebery, the leader of the
Liberal, and Lady Salisbury, of the Conservative, women, paid her
a very unusual and complimentary tribute.
During John Hay's term as United States minister to Great Britain
my visits to England were very delightful. Hay was one of the
most charming men in public life of his period. He had won great
success in journalism, as an author, and in public service. At
his house in London one would meet almost everybody worth while
in English literary, public, and social life.
In the hours of conversation with him, when I was posting him on
the latest developments in America, his comments upon the leading
characters of the time were most racy and witty. Many of them
would have embalmed a statesman, if the epigram had been preserved,
like a fly in amber. He had officially a very difficult task
during the Spanish War. The sympathies of all European governments
were with Spain. This was especially true of the Kaiser and the
German Government. It was Mr. Hay's task to keep Great Britain
neutral and prevent her joining the general alliance to help Spain,
which some of the continental governments were fomenting.
Happily, Mr. Balfour, the British foreign minister, was cordially
and openly our friend. He prevented this combination against
the United States.
During part of my term as a senator John Hay was secretary of state.
To visit his office and have a discussion on current affairs was
an event to be remembered. He made a prediction, which was the
result of his own difficulties with the Senate, that on account of
the two-thirds majority necessary for the ratification of a treaty,
no important treaty sent to the Senate by the president would ever
again be ratified. Happily this gloomy view has not turned out
to be entirely correct.
Mr. Hay saved China, in the settlement of the indemnities arising
out of the Boxer trouble, from the greed of the great powers of
Europe. One of his greatest achievements was in proclaiming the
open door for China and securing the acquiescence of the great
powers. It was a bluff on his part, because he never could have
had the active support of the United States, but he made his
proposition with a confidence which carried the belief that he
had no doubt on that subject. He was fortunately dealing with
governments who did not understand the United States and do not
now. With them, when a foreign minister makes a serious statement
of policy, it is understood that he has behind him the whole
military, naval, and financial support of his government. But with
us it is a long road and a very rocky one, before action so serious,
with consequences so great, can receive the approval of the
war-making power in Congress.
I called on Hay one morning just as Cassini, the Russian ambassador,
was leaving. Cassini was one of the shrewdest and ablest of
diplomats in the Russian service. It was said that for twelve
years he had got the better of all the delegations at Pekin and
controlled that extraordinary ruler of China, the dowager queen.
Cassini told me that from his intimate associations with her he
had formed the opinion that she was quite equal to Catherine of
Russia, whom he regarded as the greatest woman sovereign who
ever lived.
Hay said to me: "I have just had a very long and very remarkable
discussion with Cassini. He is a revelation in the way of secret
diplomacy. He brought to me the voluminous instructions to him
of his government on our open-door policy. After we had gone
over them carefully, he closed his portfolio and, pushing it aside,
said: 'Now, Mr. Secretary, listen to Cassini.' He immediately
presented an exactly opposite policy from the one in the
instructions, and a policy entirely favorable to us, and said:
'That is what my government will do.'" It was a great loss to
Russian diplomacy when he died so early.
As senator I did all in my power to bring about the appointment
of Whitelaw Reid as ambassador to Great Britain. He and I had
been friends ever since his beginning in journalism in New York
many years before. Reid was then the owner and editor of the
New York Tribune, and one of the most brilliant journalists in the
country. He was also an excellent public speaker. His long and
intimate contact with public affairs and intimacy with public men
ideally fitted him for the appointment. He had already served
with great credit as ambassador to France.
The compensation of our representatives abroad always has been
and still is entirely inadequate to enable them to maintain, in
comparison with the representatives of other governments, the
dignity of their own country. All the other great powers at
the principal capitals maintain fine residences for their ambassadors,
which also is the embassy. Our Congress, except within the last
few years, has always refused to make this provision. The salary
which we pay is scarcely ever more than one-third the amount paid
by European governments in similar service.
I worked hard while in the Senate to improve this situation because
of my intimate knowledge of the question. When I first began
the effort I found there was very strong belief that the whole
foreign service was an unnecessary expense. When Mr. Roosevelt
first became president, and I had to see him frequently about
diplomatic appointments, I learned that this was his view. He said
to me: "This foreign business of the government, now that the
cable is perfected, can be carried on between our State Department
and the chancellery of any government in the world. Nevertheless,
I am in favor of keeping up the diplomatic service. All the old
nations have various methods of rewarding distinguished public
servants. The only one we have is the diplomatic service. So when
I appoint a man ambassador or minister, I believe that I am giving
him a decoration, and the reason I change ambassadors and ministers
is that I want as many as possible to possess it."
The longer Mr. Roosevelt remained president, and the closer he
came to our foreign relations, the more he appreciated the value
of the personal contact and intimate knowledge on the spot of
an American ambassador or minister.
Mr. Reid entertained more lavishly and hospitably than any
ambassador in England ever had, both at his London house and at
his estate in the country. He appreciated the growing necessity
to the peace of the world and the progress of civilization of
closer union of English-speaking peoples. At his beautiful and
delightful entertainments Americans came in contact with Englishmen
under conditions most favorable for the appreciation by each of
the other. The charm of Mr. and Mrs. Whitelaw Reid's hospitality
was so genuine, so cordial, and so universal, that to be their
guest was an event for Americans visiting England. There is no
capital in the world where hospitality counts for so much as in
London, and no country where the house-party brings people together
under such favorable conditions. Both the city and the country
homes of Mr. and Mrs. Reid were universities of international
good-feeling. Mr. Reid, on the official side, admirably represented
his country and had the most intimate relations with the governing
powers of Great Britain.
I recall with the keenest pleasure how much my old friend,
Joseph H. Choate, did to make each one of my visits to London
during his term full of the most charming and valuable recollections.
His dinners felt the magnetism of his presence, and he showed
especial skill in having, to meet his American guests, just the
famous men in London life whom the American desired to know.
Choate was a fine conversationalist, a wit and a humorist of
a high order. His audacity won great triumphs, but if exercised
by a man less endowed would have brought him continuously into
trouble. He had the faculty, the art, of so directing conversation
that at his entertainments everybody had a good time, and an
invitation always was highly prized. He was appreciated most
highly by the English bench and bar. They recognized him as the
leader of his profession in the United States. They elected him
a Bencher of the Middle Temple, the first American to receive that
honor after an interval of one hundred and fifty years. Choate's
witticisms and repartees became the social currency of dinner-tables
in London and week-end parties in the country.
Choate paid little attention to conventionalities, which count for
so much and are so rigidly enforced, especially in royal circles.
I had frequently been at receptions, garden-parties, and other
entertainments at Buckingham Palace in the time of Queen Victoria
and also of King Edward. At an evening reception the diplomats
representing all the countries in the world stand in a solemn row,
according to rank and length of service. They are covered with
decorations and gold lace. The weight of the gold lace on some
of the uniforms of the minor powers is as great as if it were a
coat of armor. Mr. Choate, under regulations of our diplomatic
service, could only appear in an ordinary dress suit.
While the diplomats stand in solemn array, the king and queen
go along the line and greet each one with appropriate remarks.
Nobody but an ambassador and minister gets into that brilliant
circle. On one occasion Mr. Choate saw me standing with the other
guests outside the charmed circle and immediately left the diplomats,
came to me, and said: "I am sure you would like to have a talk
with the queen." He went up to Her Majesty, stated the case and
who I was, and the proposition was most graciously received.
I think the royalties were pleased to have a break in the formal
etiquette. Mr. Choate treated the occasion, so far as I was
concerned, as if it had been a reception in New York or Salem,
and a distinguished guest wanted to meet the hosts. The gold-laced
and bejewelled and highly decorated diplomatic circle was paralyzed.
Mr. Choate's delightful personality and original conversational
powers made him a favorite guest everywhere, but he also carried
to the platform the distinction which had won for him the reputation
of being one of the finest orators in the United States.
Choate asked at one time when I was almost nightly making speeches
at some entertainment: "How do you do it?" I told him I was
risking whatever reputation I had on account of very limited
preparation, that I did not let these speeches interfere at all
with my business, but that they were all prepared after I had
arrived home from my office late in the afternoon. Sometimes
they came easy, and I reached the dinner in time; at other times
they were more difficult, and I did not arrive till the speaking
had begun. Then he said: "I enjoy making these after-dinner
addresses more than any other work. It is a perfect delight for
me to speak to such an audience, but I have not the gift of quick
and easy preparation. I accept comparatively few of the constant
invitations I receive, because when I have to make such a speech
I take a corner in the car in the morning going to my office,
exclude all the intruding public with a newspaper and think all
the way down. I continue the same process on my way home in
the evening, and it takes about three days of this absorption and
exclusiveness, with some time in the evenings, to get an address
with which I am satisfied."
The delicious humor of these efforts of Mr. Choate and the wonderful
way in which he could expose a current delusion, or what he thought
was one, and produce an impression not only on his audience but
on the whole community, when his speech was printed in the
newspapers, was a kind of effort which necessarily required
preparation. In all the many times I heard him, both at home and
abroad, he never had a failure and sometimes made a sensation.
Among the many interesting characters whom I met on shipboard
was Emory Storrs, a famous Chicago lawyer. Storrs was a genius
of rare talent as an advocator. He also on occasions would make
a most successful speech, but his efforts were unequal. At one
session of the National Bar Association he carried off all honors
at their banquet. Of course, they wanted him the next year, but
then he failed entirely to meet their expectations.. Storrs was
one of the most successful advocates at the criminal bar, especially
in murder cases. He rarely failed to get an acquittal for his
client. He told me many interesting stories of his experiences.
He had a wide circuit, owing to his reputation, and tried cases
far distant from home.
I remember one of his experiences in an out-of-the-way county of
Arkansas. The hotel where they all stopped was very primitive,
and he had the same table with the judge. The most attractive
offer for breakfast by the landlady was buckwheat-cakes. She
appeared with a jug of molasses and said to the judge: "Will you
have a trickle or a dab?" The judge answered: "A dab." She then
ran her fingers around the jug and slapped a huge amount of molasses
on the judge's cakes. Storrs said: "I think I prefer a trickle."
Whereupon she dipped her fingers again in the jug and let the
drops fall from them on Storrs's cakes. The landlady was
disappointed because her cakes were unpopular with such
distinguished gentlemen.
Once Storrs was going abroad on the same ship with me on a sort
of semi-diplomatic mission. He was deeply read in English literature
and, as far as a stranger could be, familiar with the places made
famous in English and foreign classics.
He was one of the factors, as chairman of the Illinois delegation,
of the conditions which made possible the nomination of Garfield
and Arthur. In the following presidential campaign he took an
active and very useful part. Then he brought all the influences
that he could use, and they were many, to bear upon President Arthur
to make him attorney-general. Arthur was a strict formalist and
could not tolerate the thought of having such an eccentric genius
in his Cabinet. Storrs was not only disappointed but hurt that
Arthur declined to appoint him.
To make him happy his rich clients--and he had many of them--raised
a handsome purse and urged him to make a European trip. Then
the president added to the pleasure of his journey by giving him
an appointment as a sort of roving diplomat, with special duties
relating to the acute trouble then existing in regard to the
admission of American cattle into Great Britain. They were barred
because of a supposed infectious disease.
Storrs's weakness was neckties. He told me that he had three
hundred and sixty-five, a new one for every day. He would come
on deck every morning, display his fresh necktie, and receive
a compliment upon its color and appropriateness, and then take
from his pocket a huge water-proof envelope. From this he would
unroll his parchment appointment as a diplomat, and the letters
he had to almost every one of distinction in Europe. On the last
day, going through the same ceremony, he said to me: "I am not
showing you these things out of vanity, but to impress upon you
the one thing I most want to accomplish in London. I desire to
compel James Russell Lowell, our minister, to give me a dinner."
Probably no man in the world could be selected so antipathetic
to Lowell as Emory Storrs. Mr. Lowell told me that he was annoyed
that the president should have sent an interloper to meddle with
negotiations which he had in successful progress to a satisfactory
conclusion. So he invited Storrs to dinner, and then Storrs took
no further interest in his diplomatic mission.
Mr. Lowell told me that he asked Storrs to name whoever he wanted
to invite. He supposed from his general analysis of the man that
Storrs would want the entire royal family. He was delighted to
find that the selection was confined entirely to authors, artists,
and scientists.
On my return trip Mr. Storrs was again a fellow passenger. He
was very enthusiastic over the places of historic interest he had
visited, and eloquent and graphic in descriptions of them and of
his own intense feelings when he came in contact with things he
had dreamed of most of his life.
"But," he said, "I will tell you of my greatest adventure. I was
in the picture-gallery at Dresden, and in that small room where
hangs Raphael's 'Madonna.' I was standing before this wonderful
masterpiece of divine inspiration when I felt the room crowded.
I discovered that the visitors were all Americans and all looking
at me. I said to them: 'Ladies and gentlemen, you are here in
the presence of the most wonderful picture ever painted. If you
study it, you can see that there is little doubt but with all his
genius Raphael in this work had inspiration from above, and yet
you, as Americans, instead of availing yourselves of the rarest
of opportunities, have your eyes bent on me. I am only a Chicago
lawyer wearing a Chicago-made suit of clothes.'
"A gentleman stepped forward and said: 'Mr. Storrs, on behalf
of your countrymen and countrywomen present, I wish to say that
you are of more interest to us than all the works of Raphael put
together, because we understand that James Russell Lowell,
United States Minister to Great Britain, gave you a dinner.'"
One other incident in my acquaintance with Mr. Storrs was original.
I heard the story of it both from him and Lord Coleridge, and they
did not differ materially. Lord Coleridge, Chief Justice of England,
was a most welcome visitor when he came to the United States.
He received invitations from the State Bar Associations everywhere
to accept their hospitality. I conducted him on part of his trip
and found him one of the most able and delightful of men. He was
a very fine speaker, more in our way than the English, and made
a first-class impression upon all the audiences he addressed.
At Chicago Lord Coleridge was entertained by the Bar Association
of the State of Illinois. Storrs, who was an eminent member of
the bar of that State, came to him and said: "Now, Lord Coleridge,
you have been entertained by the Bar Association. I want you
to know the real men of the West, the captains of industry who
have created this city, built our railroads, and made the Great West
what it is." Coleridge replied that he did not want to go outside
bar associations, and he could not think of making another speech
in Chicago. Storrs assured him it would be purely a private affair
and no speeches permitted.
The dinner was very late, but when they sat down Lord Coleridge
noticed a distinguished-looking gentleman, instead of eating his
dinner, correcting a manuscript. He said: "Mr. Storrs, I understood
there was to be no speaking." "Well," said Storrs, "you can't get
Americans together unless some one takes the floor. That man
with the manuscript is General and Senator John A. Logan, one of
our most distinguished citizens." Just then a reporter came up
to Storrs and said: "Mr. Storrs, we have the slips of your speech
in our office, and it is now set up with the laughter and applause
in their proper places. The editor sent me up to see if you wanted
to add anything." Of course Lord Coleridge was in for it and had
to make another speech.
The cause of the lateness of the dinner is the most original
incident that I know of in historic banquets. Storrs received
great fees and had a large income, but was very careless about
his business matters. One of his creditors obtained a judgment
against him. The lawyer for this creditor was a guest at this
dinner and asked the landlord of the hotel if the dinner had been
paid for in advance. The landlord answered in the affirmative,
and so the lawyer telephoned to the sheriff, and had the dinner
levied upon. The sheriff refused to allow it to be served until
the judgment was satisfied. There were at least a hundred millions
of dollars represented among the guests, packers, elevator men,
real-estate operators, and grain operators, but millionaires
and multimillionaires in dress suits at a banquet never have any
money on their persons. So it was an hour or more before the
sheriff was satisfied. Lord Coleridge was intensely amused and
related the adventure with great glee.
Several years afterwards Lord Coleridge had some difficulty in
his family which came into the courts of England. I do not remember
just what it was all about, but Storrs, in reading the gossip which
came across the cable, decided against the chief justice.
Lord Coleridge told me he received from Storrs a cable reading
something like this: "I have seen in our papers about your attitude
in the suit now pending. I therefore inform you that as far as
possible I withdraw the courtesies which I extended to you in
Chicago." In this unique way Storrs cancelled the dinner which
was given and seized by the sheriff years ago.
I met Storrs many times, and he was always not only charming but
fascinating. He was very witty, full of anecdotes, and told a
story with dramatic effect. Except for his eccentricities he might
have taken the highest place in his profession. As it was, he
acquired such fame that an admirer has written a very good
biography of him.