and entirely neglected. The Prussians, who were in bivouac near us,
amused themselves by doing as much damage as they could, without any
useful aim or object: they cut down the finest trees, and set the wood
on fire at several points. There were about three thousand of the Guards
then encamped in the wood, and I should think about ten thousand Prussians.
Our camp was not remarkable for its courtesy towards them; in fact,
our intercourse was confined to the most ordinary demands of duty, as
allies in an enemy's country.

I believe I was one of the first of the British army who penetrated
into the heart of Paris after Waterloo. I entered by the Porte Maillot,
and passed the Arc de Triomphe, which was then building. In those days
the Champs Elysees only contained a few scattered houses, and the roads
and pathways were ancle deep in mud. The only attempt at lighting was
the suspension of a few lamps on cords, which crossed the roads. Here
I found the Scotch regiments bivouacking; their peculiar uniform created
a considerable sensation amongst the Parisian women, who did not hesitate
to declare that the want of culottes was most indecent. I passed through
the camp, and proceeded on towards the gardens of the Tuilleries. This
ancient palace of the Kings of France presented, so far as the old front
is concerned, the same aspect that it does at the present day; but there
were then no flower-gardens, although the same stately rows of trees
which now ornament the grounds were then in their midsummer verdure.

Being in uniform, I created an immense amount of curiosity amongst the
Parisians; who, by the way, I fancied regarded me with no loving looks.
The first house I entered was a cafe in the garden of the Tuilleries,
called Legac's. I there met a man who told me he was by descent an
Englishman; though he had been born in Paris, and had really never quitted
France. He approached me, saying, "Sir, I am delighted to see an English