“This refusal,” said he, mechanically lowering his eyes, “was not reasonable. An armistice would have prevented many inconveniences to Prussia and considerable difficulties to France, and the Government could, at any rate, have profited by it to form a legal representation of the country.” I was astonished at these words which appeared to me absolutely unfair.
“What?” said I. “You consider it a reasonable thing to offer a twenty-five days’ armistice, without re-victualling, to a town of two millions which has been besieged for three months?
“Why, that would be taking away exactly so many days from the resistance of this courageous town, which has shown in its days of misfortune that it was something more than a city of pleasure. Prussia’s acceptance of negotiations for an armistice could have had no meaning without at least the re-victualling of the city. By her refusal she has made the armistice impossible, and on her must fall the responsibility of breaking off the negotiations. It is she who has refused an armistice desired by the whole world.”
“No, it was not unreasonable,” he again answered me. “Prussia would have lost much too much during a twenty-five days’ armistice.” And he went on to give the most detailed reasons why the refusal was not an “unreasonable” one.
This was his principal argument:—
If the armistice had not been successful in producing peace, Prussia would have lost precious time which she would have been obliged to pass in inaction. She would thus herself have prolonged the term of sacrifices and of sufferings which the war necessarily imposed on her, and she would have lost this precious time without any kind of compensation.
“Your Government,” added the noble lord, “formally instructed M. Thiers to reject the armistice, so it is not Prussia that has to be considered responsible.”
It is difficult for two persons to come to an understanding if they start from such different points of view that one says to the other “This is just” where the other only sees a manifest injustice.
It was easy for me to see that Lord Granville would depart from none of his views, and would answer all my arguments by contrary ones. So it seemed useless to discuss the point any longer. I contented myself with saying that the actual Government of France would have been glad to convoke a National Assembly to share its heavy burdens, had they been allowed to do so.
“The devoted men,” I said, “at the head of our nation have picked up the fallen reins of power solely to arm the nation and organise national defence against the invasion. They are not ambitious of honours. They have arrogated to themselves only the duties of power, and they have done so with the sole idea of national defence.