When we finally arrived at Brussels, late at night, we could hardly find a lodging. All the hotels were crowded to the doors, and only with difficulty, and by the aid of a very liberal tip, was I enabled to procure a back room on the third storey. I took my wife to the elevator, to be carried to the room, gave orders for her supper, etc., and went down to the café to drink a glass of hot punch.
The place was crowded to suffocation, in spite of the lateness of the hour. Every newspaper was being read by five or six readers at once. Something very important seemed to have happened, but the noise was so deafening that it was utterly impossible to catch a word of the news.
I begged the waiter to let me have one of the papers.
"Never mind, sir," he said, smilingly; "these are all afternoon editions. If you will wait till your punch is ready, I will manage to get you a fresh paper moist from the press."
I rewarded his good offices with the expected money gratification, and some minutes later the hot punch and a moist copy of the morning Indépendance were before me. The price of the copy was five francs.
As an experienced reader of Continental newspapers, I began my reading on the last page, devoted to the telegrams. I found one from Arlon, stating that MacMahon's position was very good. He was posted behind fortifications, which were stored with provisions for three hundred thousand men. Yesterday's engagement had ended in a triumph for the French.
Another telegram came from Mézières, according to which yesterday's battle had ended fatally for the French, who had been forced to the Belgian frontier by the Prussians. The Emperor was with MacMahon. The line of battle extended from Bazille to La Chapelle. Three thousand French soldiers, with five hundred horses, had been driven across the Belgian frontier, and had there surrendered.
A gentleman sitting near me, evidently a Frenchman, politely begged me to show him the telegrams. "Oh," said he, "these are old ones, brought over from the evening papers. Let us look at the front page," and, turning the leaves, he pointed to a few lines printed in large letters, "Sedan, September 2, 8 p.m. MacMahon's army has surrendered and laid down its arms. MacMahon is severely wounded, and General Wimpffen has taken command in his place. The capitulation was signed by him. Napoleon has personally surrendered to the Prussian King."
The French gentleman had fallen from his chair in a swoon. He was carried out into the fresh air to recover. This incident caused a sensation in the room; everybody inquired for the cause of the swoon, and I gave them the newspaper, which was eagerly devoured, until one gentleman leaped upon a billiard-table and read the news aloud to all.
I went up to my wife. She had thrown herself on the bed, without undressing, for, as we had only this single apartment for both of us, she could not undress before the stranger who was—her husband. I begged her pardon for disturbing her, but I thought she would be interested in the important news. Of course she was! All the sleep was gone from her eyes in a moment. She sprang from the bed and came to me. "See how kind Providence has been!" she said. "If you had not been dismissed, you also would be a prisoner now. So what seemed an evil has been converted into a benefit."