a knoll in the descent from Mont Valérien, we came upon the French
reserves, massed by regiments behind the artillery and mitrailleuses
which lined the crest of the hill we were on. Just behind them
were Trochu and his staff. An aide-de-camp galloped toward us as we
approached, and told us to take down our flags, shouting that we would
draw fire. He had to tell us that only once: our flags came down like
a shot. The fight was going on in the valley just beneath us. The sun
was setting, the windows of Mont Valérien shimmered with its slanting
rays, the green woods grew darker, and the blue smoke curled lazily
over the combatants. Away in the distance the aqueduct of Marly ran in
gray relief against the red of the evening sky. From this aqueduct,
as we learned afterward, King William, the crown prince, Moltke and
Bismarck were watching the struggle. Our little red-legged liners had
pushed the Germans across the open space and were pressing them in the
wood. We grew excited, and the boys began making for the crest of the
hill among the artillery, when one of our party, a well-known American
here in Paris, cried out, "Gentlemen, as a clergyman and father of a
family, I forbid you to go any farther forward and risk your lives."
Whereupon Mr. William Bowles, aroused, but in his usual manner in
moments of excitement--namely, with his hands in his vest pockets and
his eyes beaming through his gold spectacles--observed, "Gentlemen,
oh that be d----d! As an American and your captain, I command you to
follow me." And we followed him, singing at the tops of our voices,
"While we were marching through Georgia."

What would have become of us, carried away as we were, no one knows,
if we had not been marched back again by higher orders. We were
straightway sent down to the right, toward Malmaison, to gather the
wounded. We passed Trochu and staff, who saluted us, and we wound
down the hill, with the infantry before us, and the cannon and