All the Powers of Europe were enjoying a complete rest. Their armies scarcely existed, their soldiers were on furlough and working quietly in fields and workshops. Contingents had been reduced. All lived in peace and security. Prussia herself had diminished her standing army, and it was only due to her prodigious military organisation that she was able to assemble her forces with hitherto unknown rapidity.
So France was alone in presence of her enemy. She was isolated in Europe, not only from the diplomatic but also from the military point of view. When the combat turned into defeat for the armies which Europe had always regarded as legions of victory, panic seized the minds of all. Europe, which had not armed before the declaration of war, because there was no cloud on the political horizon to menace general peace, now, after the sanguinary battles and great successes of Prussia, did not dare to arm, because she did not want to provoke France’s conqueror, now become the all-powerful arbiter of Europe.
How often during this painful journey did I not hear the characteristic remark: “We cannot mobilize a single soldier without exposing ourselves....” The quos ego of the conqueror paralysed Europe.
Austria was no better prepared than other nations. Consequently she was not in a condition to intervene in the conflict more effectively than by diplomatic intervention. And diplomatic intervention was bound to be useless, since Prussia had formally declared that she would not accept the mediation of any Power, and that she would deal direct with France for the conclusion of peace.
I was excellently received by M. le Comte de Beust. He welcomed me frankly and cordially, and did not attempt to conceal his views. His first words convinced me that I was speaking to a sincere friend of France—but to an impotent friend.
The interview, therefore, which lasted more than an hour, resembled a familiar conversation rather than a diplomatic conference, and I shall never forget the eagerness and, shall we say, the “laisser aller” of the Imperial Chancellor, who seemed to seize with pleasure an opportunity which allowed him to say what he thought of the war, of the Imperial Government that had provoked it, and of the situation in France since the surrender of Metz.
He was sincerely sorry for the defeat of France, but it did not astonish him, for he knew well that Prussia had long been prepared for this war, and he had never ceased, while there was still time, from warning those who then ruled France. But his good advice had found no hearing.
He was full of admiration for the resistance of Paris and the splendid spirit of the provinces, but he was afraid that all these prodigious efforts would have no success. “The best thing you can do,” said he, “would be to conclude peace as promptly as possible.” And he repeatedly cited the example of his own country and reminded me of what Austria had done after the disastrous Battle of Sadowa.
I find it difficult to describe the insistence and animation with which he showed that all further efforts must be hopeless, and that there was nothing left but to accept the evidence and conclude peace without prolonging our resistance.
“The more you delay the more you are weakening yourselves—without speaking of the irritation you are causing the enemy, who will augment his demands as he advances his troops further and further into the heart of the country. Take the advice of a sincere friend of France; surrender and make peace.”