goes on, and the touch is characteristic, “when not looking through the glass or at the map, stood in a curious musing attitude, with his right hand to the side of his face, the elbow resting on the left hand crossed towards his hip.” A picture of Von Moltke, which, taken with what another observer calls his “refined and wrinkled face,” deserves to live in the memory. Count Bismarck, we are told, “in his white cuirassier flat cap with the yellow band and uniform, stood rather apart, smoking a good deal, and chatting occasionally with a short, thick-set, soldierly-looking man in the undress uniform of a United States’ Lieutenant-General.” It was Sheridan. And near these were many less famous personages, but representative of “all Germany,” as one writer puts it. On another hill a little further west, whither Dr. Russell transferred himself, was a second and notable group, which he sketches. “The Crown Prince with his arms folded, and his flat cap, uniform frock, and jack boots; Blumenthal so spruce and trim; half-a-dozen princes and many aides-de-camp” were all sharply and well-defined on the sky-line. Thus these two groups, “from morn to dewy eve,” looked down, on, and into a scene which nature and man had combined to make at once beautiful and sublime. It was towards the King’s hill that General Reille turned when he rode out of the Torcy gate. Walking his horse up the steep, he dismounted, and taking off his cap, presented a letter to his Majesty. King William, breaking the Imperial seal, read these phrases, which, if somewhat dramatic, are striking in their brevity:—[1] Monsieur mon Frère, N’ayant pu mourir au milieu de mes troupes, il ne me reste qu’ à remettre mon epée entre les mains de Votre Majesté. Je suis de Votre Majesté, le bon Frère, NAPOLÉON. Sédan, le 1^{er} Septembre, 1870. Only one half hour earlier had Colonel Bronsart brought the startling information that the Emperor was in Sedan! The King conferred with his son, who had been hastily summoned, and with others of his trusty servants, all deeply moved by complex emotions at the grandeur of their victory. What should be done? The Emperor spoke for himself only, and his surrender would not settle the great issue. It was necessary to obtain something definite, and the result of a short conference was that Count Hatzfeldt, instructed by the Chancellor, retired to draft a reply. “After some minutes he brought it,” writes Dr. Busch, “and the King wrote it out, sitting on one chair, while the seat of a second was held up by Major von Alten, who knelt on one knee and supported the chair on the other.” The King’s letter, brief and business-like, began and ended with the customary royal forms, and ran as follows: