From the first day of my arrival, it was clear to me that the good people of Austria were with us in their hearts and were praying for our success—but that was all. Our Ambassador, who was to present me to the Imperial Chancellor, did not leave me in ignorance that the Imperial Court had made its decision, and that I could obtain nothing from the Austrian Cabinet. The latter was firmly resolved not to depart from the most strict and absolute neutrality.

I was not long in convincing myself that this information was perfectly accurate and, at my first interview with M. de Beust, at that time Imperial Chancellor, I became assured that Austria was not in a condition to accord the effective intervention necessary to carry weight with Germany. I have purposely said that Austria was not in a condition to, that she could not intervene effectively, because this was the truth and because if I said that she would not do so, it would perhaps be doing her an injustice. It was not the goodwill that was lacking, but the power.

That was exactly the great misfortune of our situation; not a single power in Europe was prepared for any kind of action: none was in a position for action.

In 1870 Europe was not expecting war. Among all the living and active nations, from the Ocean to the Ural Mountains, from the Mediterranean to the North Pole, only one Power was on the watch and getting ready. Only one Power was prepared at the moment of shock, and that Power was exactly the one which France, herself unready, had chosen for an enemy. Outside Prussia no one in Europe had foreseen war, and no one was armed or in condition for a campaign.

The declaration of war in 1870 had burst unexpectedly in the midst of peaceable Europe like a thunder-clap which shakes the earth in the middle of a calm spring day.

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.”

I did not hide from him that France had not yet reached the extremity of concluding peace at any cost or under any conditions which the conqueror would impose on us.

“It is quite true we have lost our last army at Metz; but Paris, the great city, can hold out for a long time yet. Paris will stop the enemy and give the provinces a chance of forming new troops.”

He shook his head and said simply: “You can no longer stop the invasion, and it is better for you to surrender to-day than to-morrow.”

I then told him that the Powers also were interested in the result of this war, because the equilibrium of Europe and their own security was menaced by the weakening of France and the undue aggrandisement of Prussia. “Is it not true that Europe has need of France, and of an unlessened, unmutilated France, in its own interests and in order to establish the balance of power in face of the menacing superiority of Prussia?

“In their own interests the Powers ought to cast aside their apathy and leave their rÔle of quiet spectator in order to raise their voices and signify to Prussia that all Europe wishes this war terminated by a durable peace, by a peace which France can whole-heartedly accept. I find it difficult to assume that Prussia, victorious as she is, can disregard such intervention.”

M. de Beust answered me, smiling delicately and almost bitterly. “Is that what you think?” said he. “Well, you are mistaken; Prussia will listen to no one in Europe. She will be influenced by nothing except the number of soldiers whom Europe can send to the theatre of war, and Europe has none to send.”

The conversation had arrived at this point, and the Chancellor was speaking to me so openly and frankly, in language so free from reticence and reserve,—that I answered him in the same open manner.

I told him that I had just traversed a large part of Germany and that I was perfectly informed as to the situation. “With one hundred thousand men,” I said, “you could take Berlin.” “Perhaps that is true,” he answered, “but Russia would then send two hundred thousand men into Austria.”

That was the situation in Europe.

As regards our attitude towards Prussia, he found that we were lacking in cleverness. He was convinced that we were uselessly stimulating the appetite of our enemy by our attitude and that we ought to have said exactly the contrary to what was the gist of our language to Prussia. “You make yourselves out too rich,” he added. “You repeat to M. de Bismarck: money, as much money as you like, but no provinces. These are bad tactics! You do not know your enemy. He will take both your money and your provinces.

“Tell him, on the contrary, that you are poor, that the war has exhausted your resources and that you are no longer capable of paying a large indemnity. Give up Alsace. It is an inevitable necessity and you cannot escape from this calamity. Who can say what the future has not in store for us? A province lost is not necessarily a province lost for ever, while as to your millions, you will never see them again.”

He then went on to examine the resources of Germany in their turn—and he knew them well—and admitting for a moment the most favourable chances that could still befall us, M. de Beust, after having weighed and calculated everything, concluded as he had commenced. He thought it impossible to resist the forces that had invaded France. Any continuation of the conflict was a useless sacrifice. We should only exhaust the country without being able to hope for any result. And he sincerely advised us to stop the struggle and conclude peace as quickly as possible, because the more we delayed, the greater would be the demands of the conqueror. “To-day rather than to-morrow,” said he. We had already shrunk too long from facing the facts.

He would have liked to see an assembly of the Representatives of the Nation, but he freely admitted that in order to have elections we should have need of an armistice and the revictualling of Paris, which appeared difficult to obtain.

I took the opportunity offered by this remark to revert to my former demand for an effective intervention on the part of Austria in concert with the other Powers. Commencing with the desirability of convoking a National Assembly, I went on to say that an armistice and the revictualling of Paris, which would have allowed us to hold elections, were exactly the things that Prussia had refused. “Perhaps,” said I, “Prussia may change her mind on this question and perhaps also allow of more tolerable conditions of peace if she sees that France is not isolated.” And I added that, if my information was accurate, the populace of the Austrian Empire was disposed to intervene, and that public opinion would see in helping France an opportunity of avenging Austria’s own defeat of 1866.

The Hungarians in particular had been reported to me as fervent admirers of France. They would rise in a body to help us if the Government did not prevent them.

But this was far from being M. de Beust’s view.

There was certainly great and sincere sympathy for the French cause everywhere in the Austrian monarchy. But one must not exaggerate. To conclude from this that a war against Germany would be a popular war in Austria would be a great exaggeration and a great mistake. “Besides,” said he, lowering his voice, “we are absolutely lacking in the material means for a campaign.” And he frankly explained the whole situation that I have previously described and everywhere insisted that: “We are not armed, and it is too late and too dangerous to mobilise now.”

Before leaving M. de Beust I confessed to him that my mission did not stop short with Vienna, but that I was also going to England. I asked him if he had no message for me to carry to the English Cabinet, and if Austria, under certain conditions, would not take part in common action.

“I authorise you to say to Lord Granville that, if England wished effectively to intervene with the object of obtaining honourable conditions of peace for France, England would not be alone and Austria would go with her.”

This answer, which might appear to be full of promise, did not signify very much and did not greatly compromise him who made it, in good faith I admit, but with the certainty that England would not put him to the necessity of keeping his word. The situation, therefore, was one of frightful simplicity. It was this:— If the Powers—I do not of course refer to Russia, who was in a situation by herself—if the Powers had been able to intervene for France without exposing themselves to a war with Prussia, intervention would have taken place and France would not have remained alone to face Germany in negotiating for conditions of peace.

France was, in fact, at this moment in the position of having regained the sympathies of those who had turned away from her at the beginning of the war. Moreover, the question was being asked with a certain amount of anxiety whether the crushing of France would not become a permanent danger to the general peace. If there had been any possibility of influencing Prussia’s determination without the mobilisation of soldiers, intervention would not have failed us, and M. de Beust’s answer would not have been an evasive promise but the sincere pledge of a friend willing to give all that circumstances permitted him. I am inwardly convinced that M. de Beust intended keeping his word should England have been able to decide to take a similar initiative. But, as we shall see hereafter, England absolutely refused, and always for the master reason that she did not wish to be exposed to a rebuff from Prussia, who in the last instance would only have heeded the voice of a general at the head of an army.

The “quos ego’s” of the conqueror held back Europe—for, “if Prussia would not listen, what was then to be done?”

It was thus the fate of France to remain alone from the beginning of the war to its close, and Prussia was well aware of it. She therefore proclaimed, most energetically and with disdainful pride, to the whole of Europe that she would not allow anyone to interfere in her affairs, or to interpose as mediator between her and France; peace would be concluded on conditions which she alone would settle with France, and Europe had nothing to say to this arrangement which only concerned the two principal parties.

And Europe allowed this thing because she had no means of checking it. She knew well that words were not enough for Prussia, and she was not armed so as to throw her sword if necessary into the balance in order to give her words weight.

From Vienna I went direct to London, where I arrived in the first days of December.