I drove with the Councillors. Count Bohlen gave us numerous details of the events of yesterday. Napoleon had left Sedan at such an early hour it must have been before or shortly after daybreak--because he felt it was unsafe to remain in the midst of the furious soldiery, who were packed into the fortress like herrings in a barrel, and who burst into paroxysms of rage, breaking their rifles and swords on hearing of the capitulation. During the first interview at Donchery the Minister had, amongst other things, told Wimpffen he must be well aware that the arrogance and quarrelsomeness of the French, and their jealousy at the success of neighbouring peoples, did not originate with the working and industrial classes, but with the journalists and the mob. These elements, however, swayed public opinion, constraining it to their will. For that reason the moral guarantees to which the general had referred would be of no value. We must have material guarantees, at present by the capitulation of the army in Sedan, and then by the cession of the great fortresses in the East. The surrender of the French troops took place on a kind of peninsula formed by a bend of the Meuse. Moltke had ridden out some distance from Vendresse to meet the King. The interview between the two Sovereigns took place in the drawing-room of the château of Bellevue. They were alone together for about ten minutes. Subsequently the King summoned the officers of his suite, ordered the capitulation to be read to him, and, with tears in his eyes, thanked them for their assistance. The Crown Prince is understood to have informed the Hessian regiments that the King had selected Cassel for the internment of the Emperor Napoleon, in recognition of their gallantry. The Minister dined with the King at Vendresse, where we once more put up for the night, but he nevertheless took some refreshment with us afterwards. He read over to us a portion of a letter from his wife, energetically expressing in biblical terms her hope that the French would be destroyed. He then added meditatively, “Well, in 1866--seven days. This time possibly seven times seven. Yes--when did we cross the frontier? On the 4th? No, on the 10th of August. Five weeks ago. Seven times seven--it may be possible.” I again send off a couple of articles to Germany, amongst them being one on the results of the battle of the 1st September. We are to start for Reims to-morrow, our first halt to be at Rethel.