"Minister, might I ask that you cease regarding me with such a gaze? It was the British who initially persuaded Italy to join the Entente, not us. Furthermore, you yourselves consented to it at the time; we never forced the issue. Therefore, we cannot be blamed for this matter," remarked Théophile Delcassé, the French Foreign Minister.
At the onset of the meeting between Delcassé and Paolo Boselli, the Italian minister's eyes reflected a mixture of emotions—anger, helplessness, but most predominantly, regret.
Delcassé understood the meaning behind the Italian's complex expression. Italy, once a member of the Central Powers, had been coaxed into betraying its allies and joining the Entente, following the persuasion of both him and British Foreign Minister Sir Edward Grey. They had made numerous promises to win Italy over, promises that had ultimately led to Italy's betrayal of the Central Powers. This had, undoubtedly, been a diplomatic victory for the Entente.
Yet, despite joining the Entente, Italy had failed to secure victory and had instead lost the war, now facing the ruthless demands of the Germans.
It was understandable, then, that the Italians harbored resentment toward France and Britain. After all, if not for their persuasion, Italy would never have committed its treachery, nor would it now be suffering such a grim fate.
Théophile Delcassé, however, felt no guilt in the matter. On the contrary, he felt a certain satisfaction. Misfortune is rarely as enjoyable unless others share in the suffering. Now that Italy was experiencing its downfall, France could take a little solace in their shared misfortune.
"Minister, had it not been for us, the Kingdom of Italy would not have found itself in such a dire state. Perhaps the Italians might even have joined us at the table in negotiations with France!" Paolo Boselli snarled through clenched teeth.
"No, Minister," Delcassé replied, "this cannot be blamed on us. It was your own lack of resolve. Besides, did we not all wish for victory? Who could have anticipated that the Germans would prove so formidable? Had they not been so relentless, we might have won. Now, it is the French who beg for mercy at our feet!"
"Yet now, it is we who kneel before the Germans!" Boselli countered.
"Indeed, now we beg for mercy," Delcassé acknowledged. "But given the circumstances, there is little we can do. We are powerless to alter this outcome."
Boselli's face fell, disheartened. Indeed, as Delcassé had pointed out, it was no use lamenting. The situation had reached a point where nothing more could be said.
Delcassé cast a disdainful glance at Boselli, silently scorning him. The Entente's defeat was in no small part due to Italy's disastrous performance on the battlefield. Millions of Italian soldiers had failed to even cross the Alps and suffered grievous losses under the German-Austrian offensive. Italy had scarcely contributed to the war effort. Even had they not betrayed their allies, the Entente's plight would not have been much better.
"Enough of this," said Boselli. "What is it you propose, Minister?"
"Minister," Delcassé began, his tone serious, "our nations now face a similar fate. We stand on the brink of German retribution. I suggest we stand together in these talks, united in our resolve. We must adopt a firm stance. This will be in the best interest of both our nations. The Germans' demands will no doubt be steep; even a small reduction in what we owe them could be a significant victory."
Boselli nodded. Italy, like France, wished to avoid paying too high a price for this war. Naturally, the smaller the cost, the better.
"I agree with you, Minister," Boselli said. "But will the Germans even allow us the chance? Do not forget, the Germans now hold overwhelming power. If their attitude is as unyielding as we fear, we will have no recourse. We may end up provoking them further."
"Yes, there is certainly that possibility," Delcassé admitted. "If the Germans are truly as uncompromising as we expect, we may be powerless. But we must try. After all, success in these negotiations could be immensely beneficial for us."
"Indeed, we can at least attempt it. Let us hope the Germans are not as harsh as we fear," Boselli said, though his voice betrayed his uncertainty.
Soon enough, they would find that their hopes were in vain. The Germans' stance was far more inflexible than they had imagined. The talks would not be conducted simultaneously; first, the French would negotiate, and only after those talks concluded would the Italians be called to the table.
Both the French and Italians were deeply displeased with this arrangement, but what choice did they have? German Foreign Minister von Kidderlin-Wachter had made it very clear: if they objected to the terms, they were welcome to leave. Germany would not stop them.
But the consequences of leaving would be grave. If the negotiations collapsed, German forces might resume their offensive. Neither France nor Italy could withstand the might of the German army. Thus, negotiating for peace and preserving their nations had become their only option.
Reluctantly, the French and Italian delegations had no choice but to accept the Germans' terms. After all, they were at a disadvantage; whatever demands the Germans made, they had no means of resisting.
On the morning of May 24, 1915, the peace negotiations between Germany and France began, held at the German Ministry of Foreign Affairs. Foreign Minister von Kidderlin-Wachter was fully in charge of the talks.
"Good morning, Minister," von Kidderlin-Wachter greeted with a warm smile, though there was a glint of triumph in his eyes that Delcassé could not miss. Despite his cordial demeanor, it was clear to Delcassé that the German minister reveled in his victory. Yet, what could he do? They had lost the war, and Delcassé was left to pretend he saw nothing.