“This time the brave grenadiers have saved us,” said Roon.  It was true; but for the army which he and the King had made, all the genius of Moltke and Bismarck would have been unavailing.

“Our men deserve to be kissed,” wrote Bismarck to his wife.  “Every man is brave to the death, quiet, obedient; with empty stomachs, wet clothes, little sleep, the soles of their boots falling off, they are friendly towards everyone; there is no plundering and burning; they pay what they are able, though they have mouldy bread to eat.  There must exist a depth of piety in our common soldier or all this could not be.”

Bismarck might well be proud of this practical illustration which was given of that which he so often in older days maintained.  This was a true comment on the pictures of the loyalty of the Prussian people and the simple faith of the German peasants, which from his place in Parliament he had opposed to the new sceptical teaching of the Liberals.  As soon as he was able he went about among the wounded; as he once said, the King of Prussia was accustomed to look into the eyes of wounded men on the field of battle and therefore would never venture on an unjust or unnecessary war, and in this Bismarck felt as the King.  He writes home for cigars for distributing among the wounded.  Personally he endured something of the hardships of campaigning, for in the miserable Bohemian villages there was little food and shelter to be had.  He composed himself to sleep, as best he could, on a dung-heap by the roadside, until he was roused by the Prince of Mecklenburg, who had found more acceptable quarters.

It was not for long that this life, which was to him almost a welcome reminiscence of his sporting days, could continue.  Diplomatic cares soon fell upon him.

Not two days had passed since the great battle, when a telegram from Napoleon was placed in the King’s hands informing him that Austria had requested France’s mediation, that Venetia had been surrendered to France, and inviting the King to conclude an armistice.  Immediately afterwards came the news that the surrender of Venetia to France had been published in the Moniteur.

If this meant anything, it meant that Napoleon intended to stop the further progress of the Prussian army, to rescue Austria, and to dictate the terms of peace; it could not be doubted that he would be prepared to support his mediation by arms, and in a few days they might expect to hear that the French corps were being stationed on the frontier.  What was to be done?  Bismarck neither doubted nor hesitated; it was impossible to refuse French mediation.  West Germany was almost undefended, the whole of the southern States were still unconquered; however imperfect the French military preparations might be, it was impossible to run such a risk.  At his advice the King at once sent a courteous answer accepting the French proposal.  He was more disposed to this because in doing so he