Diplomatic Security in Victorian Fiction

A couple of the Sherlock Holmes stories are about diplomacy - you know, spy stuff.

"The Adventure of the Naval Treaty," first published in 1893, is one. Percy Phelps, an upper-class friend of Dr. Watson's, has a position in the British Foreign Office through his uncle, the Foreign Minister. Unfortunately, Percy allows a top secret document to be stolen by leaving it out on his desk in an unlocked office when he goes downstairs to see about a cup of coffee. Should a hostile power gain access to the document, according to the plot line, it would be disastrous to British national interests and, it goes without saying, to Percy's career. As he informs Holmes, "No allowance is made for accidents where diplomatic interests are at stake."

Holmes and Watson meet with the Foreign Minister:

"Ah, my unfortunate nephew! You can understand that our kinship makes it the more impossible for me to screen him in any way. I fear that the incident must have a very prejudicial effect upon his career."

"But if the document is found?"

"Ah, that, of course, would be different."

Of course, the story ends with the Great Detective foiling the bad guy and recovering the document, and Percy presumably goes on to a successful diplomatic career. So apparently there is an allowance made for "accidents" in maintaining the security of classified materials, as long as they don't get all the way into the enemy's hands. Contrast this with 21st-century real life, where I suspect anyone who did a Percy Phelps would lose his security clearance if not his job pretty much right away.

Of course, things were pretty casual back then in general, at least according to fiction. Another difference between most diplomatic services today and the F.O. then is the process of getting the job: now, passing a rigorous written test and interview process followed by an in-depth background investigation; then, being Lord Holdhurst's nephew.

You can read The Naval Treaty on Wikisource.