Here at last we have reached the date that must be described as Austria's black year; since neither Custozza nor Lissa were able to outweigh the disaster of Königgrätz. A date too at which for the last time, until further notice, the entire Austrian army has been seen under arms.

What chiefly strikes one when talking to combatants of then, is how infinitely simpler a thing war was in those days than it can ever again be, and with how light a heart it was entered upon. The politicising officer had not yet come into existence, nor had the study of newspapers become a sine qua non of civilised life. It has been said with some truth that nowadays every shoemaker's apprentice knows as much about politics as fifty years ago the ministers of many a small state, and the saying applies particularly well to the Austrian officer of the sixties.

“Of course we knew that the Prussians had been impudent,” said one of these veterans to me lately, “and of course we wanted to punish them for it; but the truth is that we didn't particularly care what it was all about, so long as we were allowed to fight.”

There was, in fact, no “fuss” about it. Like a well-trained bulldog when “at him!” is commanded, the army was prepared to spring at whatever enemy was designated.