Photogravure from a Painting by Anton Von Werner.

The surrender, at Sedan, in 1870, of the French army of 84,000 under Napoleon III., MacMahon and Wimpffen, to the Germans, 250,000 strong, under William I., was the signal for the downfall of the French empire and the establishment of the republic.  In the accompanying picture, the figure seated at the extreme left is GENERAL FAURE; the middle figure of the group of three, standing, is GENERAL CASTELNAU.  GENERAL WIMPFFEN, who succeeded MacMahon as commander Sept. 1 and signed the capitulation Sept. 2, stands in a stooping posture, leaning upon his chair and the table.  Across the table, his right hand resting upon it, and standing erect, is GENERAL MOLTKE, The seated figure in the foreground is BISMARCK; behind whom, writing, stands COUNT NOSTIZ.

     [Illustration]

It is an event of great weight in the world’s history, a victory for which we will humbly thank the Almighty, and which decides the war, even if we have to carry it on against France shorn of her Emperor.

I must conclude.  With heartfelt joy I learnt from your and Maria’s letters that Herbert has arrived among you.  Bill I spoke to yesterday, as already telegraphed, and embraced him from horseback in his Majesty’s presence, while he stood motionless in the ranks.  He is very healthy and happy.  I saw Hans and Fritz Carl, both Billows, in the Second dragoon guards, well and cheerful.

     Good-by, my heart; love to the children.

     Your

     V.B.

     TO HIS WIFE

     OFEN, June 23d, 1852.

I have just come from the steamer, and do not know how better to employ the moment I have at my disposal before Hildebrand follows with my things, than by sending you a little sign of life from this very easterly but very beautiful world.  The Emperor has been graciously pleased to assign me quarters in his castle; and here I am in a large vaulted hall, sitting at an open window through which the evening bells of Pesth are pealing.  The outlook is charming.  The castle stands high; beneath me, first, the Danube, spanned by the suspension bridge; across it, Pesth; and further off the endless plain beyond Pesth, fading away into the purple haze of evening.  To the left of Pesth I look up the Danube; far, very far away on my left,—­that is, on its right bank,—­it is first bordered by the town of Ofen; back of that are hills, blue and still bluer, and then comes the brown-red in the evening sky that glows behind them.  Between the two towns lies the broad mirror of water, like that at Linz, broken by the suspension bridge and a wooded island.  The journey here, too, at least from Gran to Pesth, would have delighted you.  Imagine the Odenwald and the Taunus pushed near to each other, and the space between filled with the waters of the Danube.  The shady side of the trip was its sunny side;