Vulpine

Vulpine (pronounced vuhl-pahyn or vuhl-pin)

(1) Of or resembling a fox.

(2) Possessing or being thought to posses the characteristics often attributed to foxes; crafty, clever, cunning etc.

1620-1630: From the Latin vulpīnus (foxy, fox-like, of or pertaining to a fox), the construct being vulp(ēs) (fox) + -īnus.  Vulpēs was from the earlier volpes (genitive vulpis, volpis) of unknown origin, though though probably from the  primitive Indo-European wl(o)p and cognate with the Welsh llywarn (fox), the Classical Greek ἀλώπηξ (alṓpēx) (fox), the Armenian աղուէս (ałuēs), the Albanian dhelpër, the Lithuanian vilpišỹs (wildcat) and the Sanskrit लोपाश (lopāśa) (jackal, fox).  The Latin suffix -inus was from the Proto-Italic -īnos, from the primitive Indo-European -iHnos and cognate with the Ancient Greek -ινος (-inos) and the Proto-Germanic -īnaz.  It was used to indicate "of or pertaining to, usually a relationship of position, possession, or origin.

The Holy Fox: Lord Halifax

The Rt Hon Edward Frederick Lindley Wood, First Earl of Halifax, KG, OM, GCSI, GCMG, GCIE, TD, PC, was a leading Tory politician of the inter-war and wartime years.  Among other appointments, he was Viceroy of India, Foreign Secretary and Ambassador to the United States.  He was known as the Holy Fox because of his devotion to church, the hunt and Tory politics.  More holy than foxy and perhaps too punctilious ever to be truly vulpine, he was born too late.  Had he lived a century earlier, he’d likely be remembered as a leading statesman of the Victorian era but even before 1945, he seemed a relic of the past.

A fox and other beasts.  Count Galeazzo Ciano (1903–1944; Italian Foreign Minister 1936-1943), Edward Wood, Lord Halifax (1881–1959; UK Foreign Secretary 1938-1940), Neville Chamberlain (1869–1940; UK Prime Minister 1937-1940) and Benito Mussolini (1883–1945; Duce & Prime Minister of Italy 1922-1943), Rome, January 1939.

Some three months after signing the infamous Munich Agreement that permitted Hitler’s occupation of Czechoslovakia, the UK's  prime minister Neville Chamberlain and foreign secretary Lord Halifax visited Rome to confer with the Italian Duce & prime-minister premier Benito Mussolini.  Although it had long been obvious the Duce had been drawn into the German orbit, British foreign policy was still based on the hope war could be avoided and, having seen appeasement prevent immediate conflict over Berlin's demands about Czechoslovakia, the  hope was to find a way to appease Rome, goal no more ambitious than the maintenance of the status quo in the Mediterranean.  Pointless in retrospect, the meeting, held between 11-14 January 1939, was the last attempt through official channels to tempt the Duce away from the entanglement with Hitler to which, in reality, he was already committed although, he certainly didn't expect war to be declared quite so soon.

The spirit of the meeting was well captured in Count Ciano's diary.  Ciano's entries are not wholly reliable but he was one of the century's great diarists, an astute observer and too clever to be much bothered by principles, he painted vivid pictures of some of the great events of those troubled years.  Mussolini, already seeing himself as a Roman emperor, after his meetings with Hitler, must have though he was being visited by the ghosts of the past, Chamberlain looking like the provincial lord-mayor he'd once been and Halifax the archbishop he probably wished he'd become.  “In substance, the visit was kept on a minor tone, since both the Duce and myself are scarcely convinced of its utility. . . . How far apart we are from these people!" Ciano noted in his diary.  "It is another world."

After dinner with Mussolini he recorded the Duce's feelings: "These men are not made of the same stuff as the Francis Drakes and the other magnificent adventurers who created the British Empire.  These, after all, are the tired sons of a long line of rich men, and they will lose their Empire,... The British do not want to fight. They try to draw back as slowly as possible, but they do not want to fight."  Whatever other mistakes he may have made, on that night in Rome, Mussolini made no error in his summary of the state of thought in Downing Street and the Foreign Office.  "Our conversations with the British have ended" Ciano concluded and "Nothing was accomplished."  He closed the diary that evening with the note "I have telephoned Ribbentrop (Joachim von Ribbentrop (1893–1946; Nazi Foreign Minister 1938-1945) that the visit was a big lemonade [ie a farce].”