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 1er 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:

“Regretting the circumstances in which we meet, I accept your Majesty’s sword, and beg that you will be good enough to name an officer furnished with full powers to treat for the capitulation of the Army which has fought so bravely under your orders. On my side I have designated General von Moltke for that purpose.”

General Reille returned to his master, and as he rode down the hill the astounding purport of his visit flew from lip to lip through the exulting Army which now hoped that, after this colossal success, the days of ceaseless marching and fighting would soon end. As a contrast to this natural outburst of joy and hope we may note the provident Moltke, who was always resolved to “mak siker.” His general order, issued at once, suspending hostilities during the night, declared that they would begin again in the morning should the negotiations produce no result. In that case, he said, the signal for battle would be the reopening of fire by the batteries on the heights east of Frénois. The return of peace, so fervently desired by the Army, was still far off in the distance when the tired victors bivouacked in quiet, and dreamed of home through the short summer night.

[1] “Not having been able to die in the midst of my troops, nothing remains for me but to place my sword in the hands of your Majesty.”