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They placed but few, insolently. These conquered men remained there ten
days, the wounded almost without care, the able-bodied almost without
nourishment. The German army sneered around them. The heavens took part
against them. The weather was fearful. Neither huts nor tents. Not a
fire, not a truss of straw. For ten days and ten nights these 83,000
prisoners bivouacked with their heads beneath the rain, their feet in
the mud. Many died of fever, regretting the hail of bullets.
At length ox-wagons came and took them away.
The King placed the Emperor in some place or other. Wilhelmshöhe.
What a thing of rags and tatters, an Emperor "drawn" like a fowl!
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