y for seeing the final conflict preceding the
surrender. Presently up out of the little valley where Floing is
located came the Germans, deploying just on the rim of the plateau a
very heavy skirmish-line, supported by a line of battle at close
distance. When these skirmishers appeared, the French infantry had
withdrawn within its intrenched lines, but a strong body of their
cavalry, already formed in a depression to the right of the Floing
road, now rode at the Germans in gallant style, going clear through
the dispersed skirmishers to the main line of battle. Here the
slaughter of the French was awful, for in addition to the deadly
volleys from the solid battalions of their enemies, the skirmishers,
who had rallied in knots at advantageous places, were now delivering
a severe and effective fire. The gallant horsemen, therefore, had to
retire precipitately, but re-forming in the depression, they again
undertook the hopeless task of breaking the German infantry, making
in all four successive charges. Their ardor and pluck were of no
avail, however, for the Germans, growing stronger every minute by the
accession of troops from Floing, met the fourth attack in such large
force that, even before coming in contact with their adversaries, the
French broke and retreated to the protection of the intrenchments,
where, from the beginning of the combat, had been lying plenty of
idle infantry, some of which at least, it seemed plain to me, ought
to have been thrown into the fight. This action was the last one of
consequence around Sedan, for, though with the contraction of the
German lines their batteries kept cannonading more or less, and the
rattle of musketry continued to be heard here and there, yet the hard
fighting of the day practically ended on the plateau of Floing.

By 3 o'clock, the French being in a desperate and hopeless situation,
the King ordered the firing to be stopped, and at once despatched one
of his staff--Colonel von Bronsart--with a demand for a surrender.
Just as this officer was starting off, I remarked to Bismarck that
Napoleon himself would likely be one of the prizes, but the Count,
incredulous, replied, "Oh no; the old fox is too cunning to be caught
in such a trap; he has doubtless slipped off to Paris"--a belief
which I found to prevail pretty generally about headquarters.

In the lull that succeeded, the King invited many of those about him
to luncheon, a caterer having provided from some sour