Again, however, the military men seem to have pushed on the diplomatists.  The Archduke Albrecht and Count Vitzthum went to Paris charged with some promises of support to France in case of war.  Thereafter, Count Beust gave the assurance at Vienna that the Austrians would be “faithful to our engagements, as they have been recorded in the letters exchanged last year between the two sovereigns.  We consider the cause of France as ours, and we will contribute to the success of her arms to the utmost of our power[17].”

[Footnote 17:  Memoirs of Count Beust, vol. ii. p. 359. The Present Position of European Politics p. 366 (1887).  By the author of Greater Britain.]

In the midst of this maze of cross-purposes this much is clear:  that both Emperors had gone to work behind the backs of their Ministers, and that the military chiefs of France and Austria brought their States to the brink of war while their Ministers and diplomatists were unaware of the nearness of danger.

As we have seen, King Victor Emmanuel II. longed to draw the sword for Napoleon III., whose help to Italy in 1859-60 he so curiously overrated.  Fortunately for Italy, his Ministers took a more practical view of the situation; but probably they too would have made common cause with France had they received a definite promise of the withdrawal of French troops from Rome and the satisfaction of Italian desires for the Eternal City as the national capital.  This promise, even after the outbreak of war, the French Emperor declined to give, though his cousin, Prince Napoleon, urged him vehemently to give way on that point[18].

[Footnote 18:  See the Rev. des deux Mondes for April 1, 1878, and “Chronique” of the Revue d’Histoire diplomatique for 1905, p. 298; also W.H.  Stillman, The Union of Italy, 1815-1895, p. 348.]

In truth, the Emperor could not well give way.  An Oecumenical Council sat at Rome from December 1869 to July 1870; its Ultramontane tendencies were throughout strongly marked, as against the “Old Catholic” views; and it was a foregone conclusion that the Council would vote the dogma of the infallibility of the Pope in matters of religion—­as it did on the day before France declared war against Prussia.  How, then, could the Emperor, the “eldest son of the Church,” as French monarchs have proudly styled themselves, bargain away Rome to the Italian Government, already stained by sacrilege, when this crowning aureole of grace was about to encircle the visible Head of the Church?  There was no escape from the dilemma.  Either Napoleon must go into war with shouts of “Judas” hurled at him by all pious Roman Catholics; or he must try his fortunes without the much-coveted help of Austria and Italy.  He chose the latter alternative, largely, it would seem, owing to the influence of his vehemently Catholic Empress[19].  After the first defeats he sought to open negotiations, but then it was too late.  Prince Napoleon went to Florence and arrived there on August 20; but his utmost efforts failed to move the Italian Cabinet from neutrality.