with
reluctance, however--and went back toward Rezonville. I waited for
Count Bismarck, who did not go immediately with the King, but
remained at Gravelotte, looking after some of the escort who had been
wounded. When he had arranged for their care, we set out to rejoin
the King, and before going far, overtook his Majesty, who had stopped
on the Chalons road, and was surrounded by a throng of fugitives,
whom he was berating in German so energetic as to remind me forcibly
of the "Dutch" swearing that I used to hear in my boyhood in Ohio.
The dressing down finished to his satisfaction, the King resumed his
course toward Re'zonville, halting, however, to rebuke in the same
emphatic style every group of runaways he overtook.

Passing through Rezonville, we halted just beyond the village; there
a fire was built, and the King, his brother, Prince Frederick
Charles, and Von Roon were provided with rather uncomfortable seats
about it, made by resting the ends of a short ladder on a couple of
boxes. With much anxiety and not a little depression of spirits news
from the battle-field was now awaited, but the suspense did not last
long, for presently came the cheering intelligence that the French
were retiring, being forced back by the Pomeranian corps, and some of
the lately broken right wing organizations, that had been rallied on
the heights of Gravelotte. The lost ground being thus regained, and
the French having been beaten on their right, it was not long before
word came that Bazaine's army was falling back to Metz, leaving the
entire battle-field in possession of the Germans.

During the excitement of the day I had not much felt the want of
either food or water, but now that all was over I was nearly
exhausted, having had neither since early morning. Indeed, all of
the party were in like straits; the immense armies had not only eaten
up nearly everything in the country, but had drunk all the wells dry,
too, and there seemed no relief for us till, luckily, a squad of
soldiers came along the road with a small cask of wine in a cart.
One of the staff-officers instantly appropriated the keg, and
proceeded to share his prize most generously. Never had I tasted
anything so refreshing and delicious, but as the wine was the
ordinary sour stuff drunk by the peasantry of northern France, my
appreciation must be ascribed to my famished condition rather than to
any virtues of the beverage itself.

After I had thus quenched my