To our right the ground ascended by a gentle slope to the village of Garges, whose numerous villas and summer-houses (_kiosks_), intermingled with shrubberies, yet illuminated by the warm mellow light of the western sky, crowned the summit; whilst the intervening space presented one vast bivouac alive with men and animals, and all busy with preparations for passing the night. This ground a day or two ago was covered with the most luxuriant crops of flowers, fruits, vegetables, and some corn--now all trampled under foot; in like manner the chaussée descending from the village had been bordered with fine trees--now lying prostrate in the form of an abatis a little to our left. In our front the dense foliage and rounded summits of the trees in the Park of Stains cut strongly against the yellow sky of the west. It was certainly an animating, interesting scene. Here at length was assembled the advanced-guard of our victorious army, in full view of the devoted, fickle, guilty city--of that city which, in the days of her prosperity, arrogated to herself the empire of the world; that city which for years--nay, for our whole life--had been the great centre of our most intense interest; that city which both historical and romantic reading had rendered perfectly classical, and over which the long exclusion of Englishmen from the Continent had drawn a veil of mystery, rendering her doubly interesting. There she lay, as it were, prostrate at our feet, awaiting in breathless anxiety the fiat of her conqueror.