Dear Sir—­In common with all your countrymen, I want to let you know that I am not only gratified but proud of your management and success.  So far as I can make out, you have been modest, graceful, and dignified in all you have done to illustrate the history of civilization on this continent during the past century.  I am especially pleased with the compliment paid you by the Prince of Wales, who rode with you in the Deadwood coach while it was attacked by Indians and rescued by cowboys.  Such things did occur in our days, but they never will again.

As nearly as I can estimate, there were in 1865 about nine and one-half million of buffaloes on the Plains between the Missouri River and the Rocky Mountains; all are now gone, killed for their meat, their skins, and their bones.  This seems like desecration, cruelty, and murder, yet they have been replaced by twice as many cattle.  At that date there were about 165,000 Pawnees, Sioux, Cheyennes, and Arapahoes, who depended upon these buffaloes for their yearly food.  They, too, have gone, but they have been replaced by twice or thrice as many white men and women, who have made the earth to blossom as the rose, and who can be counted, taxed, and governed by the laws of Nature and civilization.  This change has been salutary, and will go on to the end.  You have caught one epoch of this country’s history, and have illustrated it in the very heart of the modern world—­London—­and I want you to feel that on this side of the water we appreciate it.

This drama must end; days, years, and centuries follow fast; even the drama of civilization must have an end.  All I aim to accomplish on this sheet of paper is to assure you that I fully recognize your work.  The presence of the Queen, the beautiful Princess of Wales, the Prince, and the British public are marks of favor which reflect back on America sparks of light which illuminate many a house and cabin in the land where once you guided me honestly and faithfully, in 1865-66, from Fort Riley to Kearney, in Kansas and Nebraska.

    Sincerely your friend,

    W.T.  SHERMAN.

Our next descent on Europe was made in the steamer Persian Monarch, which was again chartered.  This time our destination was France.  The Parisians received the show with as much favor as had the Londoners.

Everything American became the fad during our stay.  Fashionable young men bought American and Mexican saddles for their rides in the Bois.  Cowboy hats appeared everywhere on the street.  There was a great cry for stories of the Plains and all the books that could be found that dealt with the West were translated into the French language.  Relics from the Plains and mountains, bows, moccasins, and Indian baskets, sold like hot cakes in the souvenir stores.

While in the city I accepted an invitation from Rosa Bonheur to visit her at her superb chateau.  In return I extended her the freedom of the show, and she made many studies from life of the fine animals I had brought over with me.  She also painted a portrait of me on my favorite horse—­a picture which I immediately sent home to my wife.