and where so many great plans had their birth, I was received by the man
who had been my prisoner at Hamburg. The Prussian General immediately
reminded me of the circumstance. "Who could have foreseen," said he,
"that after being your prisoner I should become the protector of your
property? You treated me well at Hamburg, and I have now an opportunity
of repaying your kindness. Heaven knows what will be the result of all
this! One thing, however, is certain, and that is, that the Allies will
now make such conditions as will banish all possibility of danger for a
long time to come. The Emperor Alexander does not wish to make the
French people expiate too dearly the misfortunes they have caused us.
He attributes them to Napoleon, but Napoleon cannot pay the expenses of
the war, and they must be paid by some one. It was all very well for
once, but we cannot pay the expense of coming back a second time.
However," added he, "you will lose none of your territory; that is a
point on which I can give you positive assurance. The Emperor Alexander
has several times repeated in my presence to the King my master,
'I honour the French nation, and I am determined that it shall preserve
its old limits.'"

The above are the very words which Blucher addressed to me. Profiting by
the friendly sentiments he expressed towards me I took the opportunity of
mentioning the complaints that were everywhere made of the bad discipline
of the troops under his command. "What can I do?" said he. "I cannot
be present everywhere; but I assure you that in future and at your
recommendation I will severely punish any misconduct that may come to my
knowledge."

Such was the result of my visit to Blucher; but, in spite of his
promises, his troops continued to commit the most revolting excesses.
Thus the Prussian troops have left in the neighbourhood of Paris
recollections no less odious than those produced by the conduct of
Davoust's corps in Prussia.--Of this an instance now occurs to my
memory, which I will relate here. In the spring of 1816, as I was going
to Chevreuse, I stopped at the Petit Bicetre to water my horse. I seated
myself for a few minutes near the door of the inn, and a large dog
belonging to the innkeeper began to bark and growl at me. His master, a
respectable-looking old man, exclaimed, "Be quiet, Blucher!"--"How came
you to give your dog that name?" said I.--"Ah, sir! it is the name of a
villain who did a great deal of mischief here