ere we met
a curious assemblage. By the first Gate were stationed a guard of
Prussians with the British Lions on their caps, John Bull having
supplied some Prussian Regiments with Uniforms. At the next gate a band
of white Austrians, with their caps shaded with boughs of Acacia (you
will remember that their custom of wearing green boughs in their Hats
was interpreted by the French into a premeditated insult). These, with
Saxons in red, Bavarians in light blue, and Russians in green, made out
the remainder of the motley crew. We found an excellent Inn, and dined
at a Table d'Hote with about 30 people. The striking contrast we already
perceived between the French and Austrians was very amusing, the former
all bustle and loquacity with dark hair, the latter grave and sedate
with light hair; the Inns, accommodation, eating, &c., much cleaner; a
band played to us during dinner, and I was pleased to see the Austrian
moustachios recede with a smile of satisfaction as they listened to the
"Chasse de Henri Quatre."

There is little to be seen in the town. I found a most intelligent
bookseller, and was tantalised with the number of fine Engravings, &c.,
I might have purchased for a trifle....

I have heard a curious political report repeated here, which is current
all over the Continent--that Austria has sold the Netherlands and
Brabant to England; the report gains credit probably because the towns
in that part of the country are still garrisoned with British troops.
Poor England is certainly not much beloved; we are admired, feared,
respected, and courted; but these people will have, and perhaps with
some reason, that upon all occasions our own Interest is the sole object
of consideration; that our Treaties have the good of ourselves and not
the peace of Europe at heart; and so far they carry this opinion, that I
was very near getting into a quarrel with a fat man in the Diligence who
spoke it as a common idea that we fought with our money and not with our
blood, for that we were too rich to risk our lives, and had there been a
bridge that Napoleon would have been in London long ago. I told him he
knew nothing at all about the matter (to which, by the bye, he
afterwards virtually assented), and as a Frenchman's choler does not
last long, we were good friends the rest of the journey, and he
apologised for his behaviour, saying, it was a failing of his--"de
s'echauffer bientot." Upon one point we agreed, too, in politics, viz.,