Diplomatic Gambits in Warsaw
The Warsaw Conference had dragged on for a full month now.
Huebner and Bismarck met in a private chamber for talks.
“Do you want a German delegation?”
“I trust you're not asking out of ignorance.”
“The German Confederation hasn't been dissolved yet.”
“That's precisely why we're here discussing it together.”
Unable to find answers on the battlefield, Bismarck had already calculated his next theater of operations.
“No one would have answered without war.”
“Enough sophistry. State what you want.”
Bismarck lit a cigar.
“We've made our proposals clear repeatedly.”
“All I hear is that you want to exclude Austria.”
Bismarck's confederation reform wasn't dissolution—it was reorganization.
A complete overhaul of the existing German Confederation, save the name itself.
A Little German Confederation excluding Austria, a German National Assembly elected by universal suffrage, and federal military authority vested in Prussia.
Even the liberals were split on it, and the smaller and medium German states had opposed it fiercely.
“Austria has protected Germany since the days of the Holy Roman Empire.”
“Then let me ask: In the next war, can Austria bear responsibility for all of Germany?”
It was a question Huebner couldn't easily answer.
Austria was currently beset by nationalism, with internal issues demanding priority.
Bismarck declared it definitively to such a Huebner.
“Protecting in the past is not the same as being able to protect in the future.”
Huebner couldn't refute Bismarck's words and let it pass.
To buy time, Huebner played his confederation universal suffrage card.
“Very well, let's hold universal elections for the German Confederation. You wouldn't refuse, surely?”
“Refuse? Of course not. But you'll surely reject the other proposals.”
“That can be debated through the assembly after the elections.”
Bismarck clipped the cigar he held in his mouth.
Even faced with an unexpected response, his expression brimmed with leisure.
“Excellent. Let's make a treaty and resolve this peacefully.”
‘The more turmoil Prussia faces internally, the better.’
‘The more turmoil Austria faces internally, the better.’
Divergent ambitions.
Bismarck extended his hand with a satisfied smile.
“Austria has made a bold decision for Germany's future.”
“Prussia, in turn, deserves respect for the courage to relinquish its privileges.”
Huebner gripped that hand without yielding, smiling back.
“Ah, and what about the Italian alliance?”
“We only waged war among German ‘brothers.’”
Are you intending to seal this war as merely a ‘German matter’? Huebner asked, and Prussia affirmed it.
Bismarck had allied with Sardinia from the start to expel Austria from German affairs, then to check France.
‘Sardinia is weaker than expected.’
As long as Austria didn't lose Lombardy, he judged the south stable even if Prussia went to war with France.
‘They might even demand Nice and Savoy back. In this war, didn't they eye all of Lombardy and Veneto?’
“The peace treaty…”
“‘‘Let's hold it in Regensburg.’’”
The historic site of the Holy Roman Empire's Reichstag—a perfect venue to claim tradition for German accords.
Vienna and Berlin would both preserve neutrality, while minimizing French diplomatic interference.
They had already agreed on reparations.
All that remained was a formal accord in Regensburg.
Having sealed his secret deal with Bismarck, Huebner met with Sardinia's Benosta.
“…I heard this was individual negotiations.”
France sat beside Benosta.
“Merely a mediator,” he said.
‘They know full well…’
Huebner sat, masking his fatigue.
“It's time to settle the Italian front.”
“You first.”
“Sardinia gave its all in this war. Troops and treasury heavily depleted.”
Huebner glanced at Rüys, but got no reaction.
“We won't deny that.”
“Thus, commensurate compensation is needed.”
Huebner didn't reply immediately.
‘Compensation?’
He decided to hear what nonsense they had in mind.
Benosta took that silence as permission, not refusal.
“We don't demand all of Lombardy.”
“Veneto is off the table too, I presume.”
“We seek border adjustments and political voice in Italy.”
“Be specific. Don't be vague—we're still under truce.”
Seeing Huebner's prickly response, Benosta thought:
‘…Didn't go well with Prussia?’
“Border issues can be minor adjustments. A few fortresses, rail lines. Minimal measures for military balance.”
“I said specific.”
“Rome wasn't built in a day.”
First sip doesn't fill the belly.
Sardinia's suggestion to negotiate gradually from now infuriated Huebner.
“What do you mean by political voice?”
“Recognize Sardinia as the sole negotiating channel for Italian matters.”
“Have you annexed Tuscany and Modena? Invaded Rome, perhaps?”
‘Spouting nonsense from loose lips.’
Huebner shot back, unmasking his displeasure.
“Listen here, ambassador. This isn't a place for wishful thinking.”
As Huebner's words ended, Rüys began mediating.
“I've heard both sides. France views this dispute as one war.”
‘Here it comes.’
But Huebner gave no response.
“Sardinia completely isolated and pushed from the table isn't desirable for European stability either.”
Benosta nodded in agreement; Huebner maintained silence.
“If the Kingdom of Lombardy-Venetia is impossible, how about separate rail lines in Parma and Modena duchies?”
‘Kingdom of Lombardy-Venetia, not Austria… Napoleon still hasn't given up.’
Huebner was dumbfounded by France's shamelessness, even installing an Austrian archduke as puppet.
Ignoring Rüys's mediation, he changed the subject.
“The American Civil War has just ended.”
With France focused on North America, did they have bandwidth for Europe?
“France is indeed eyeing North America. But if Europe's stability shakes, no front is safe.”
Not a clear answer.
Neither commitment nor withdrawal.
Huebner merely nodded.
Neither agreement nor refutation.
“Sardinia is no mere defeated power. We actually fought in Italy—”
Huebner pounced on desperate Sardinia's slip.
“Who said defeated? Isn't that right, Minister Rüys?”
Huebner rose, thinking he'd endured enough drivel.
Rüys asked:
“Shall we end today's discussions here?”
“Ah, Austria must now prepare to return to Vienna.”
“…If you leave now, France has no choice but to abandon mediation.”
“Who knows, Minister Rüys. I guarantee one thing: If the Wiener Zeitung's front-page news from a week from now spreads… no one will stand beside Sardinia.”
And Sardinia couldn't defeat Austria alone.
Without France or Prussia, Sardinia could never win.
“What do you—”
Huebner headed for the door without hearing Rüys out.
“My apologies.”
As Huebner opened the door and exited, Gorchakov waited.
“Ah, Baron Huebner.”
“Count Gorchakov.”
“The Tsar heard of Her Majesty's pregnancy and sent sable furs.”
“Ha! For Their Majesties the Tsar and Tsarina to send such a token—Her Majesty will surely express her gratitude.”
Overhearing through the door crack, Rüys had one thing to say.
“I shall pray for His Majesty Emanuele.”
A threatened ‘Empress’ and a pregnant Empress under threat were entirely different matters.
*
Vittorio Emanuele II couldn't hide his hollow feeling upon hearing of Sisi's pregnancy.
“…Prime Minister.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“When did the Kaiser marry his Kaiserin…?”
“…About eleven and a half years ago.”
“Hasn't she borne six already…?”
“Yes…”
‘After that many, shouldn't she be done?’
“Are we in Queen Maria Theresa's reign?”
“Queen Victoria bore nine.”
“Ha, haha… right, her too.”
Vittorio clutched his head.
Six in twelve years.
Even with frequent travels, that birth rate meant a child nearly every encounter.
Pope Pius IX's excommunication loomed in Vittorio's mind.
‘It must really work…’
Vittorio could only explain this bizarre phenomenon as the excommunication's curse.
***
“Sisi.”
I'd heard it was menstrual irregularities from stress, for sure.
“Thanks to you, I'll catch hell from the Archduchess again.”
I wonder how much scolding awaits when I return to Vienna.