We frequently met French officers of all ranks, and formed acquaintance with many gentlemanly, well-informed men. At the Lion d’Or and Hôtel de Flandre we found there was a table-d’hôte every night at 8 o’clock, and, by way of passing the evening, usually resorted to one or the other for supper. Here we were sure of meeting many Frenchmen, and as the same people were generally constant attendants, we became intimate, and discussed the merits of our national troops respectively over our wine or _ponche_. It was the first time most of them had had an opportunity of inspecting British troops closely, though many had often met them in the field; and they were very curious in their inquiries into the organisation, government, and equipment of our army. Although allowing all due credit to the bravery displayed by our troops in the Peninsula, and the talents of our General (the Duke), yet were they unanimous in their belief that neither would avail in the approaching conflict, and that we must succumb before their idol and his grand army; for though these gentlemen had deserted Napoleon to follow the fortunes of Louis XVIII., it was evident they still revered the former. Their admiration of our troops, particularly of the cavalry, was very great; but they expressed astonishment at seeing so few decorations. It was in vain we asserted that medals were rarely given in the British army, and then only to commanding officers, &c. They shook their heads, appeared incredulous, and asked, “Where are the troops that fought in Spain?” There might have been something more than mere curiosity in all this. There might have been an anxiety to ascertain whether their countrymen were about to cope with veterans or young soldiers. It might have been thrown out as a lure, to provoke information relative to the present employment of those veteran bands. Moreover, I shrewdly suspected many of these gentlemen were actually spies. Amongst others who had followed Louis XVIII. was Marmont. I think it was the day after our arrival, passing over the open space near the Place d’Armes, by the river, I saw a French general officer exercising a horse in the _manège_, and learnt with astonishment that this was Marmont; for the man in question had _two_ good arms--whereas, for years past, I had, in common with most people in England, looked upon it as a fact that he had left one at Salamanca. French deserters, both officers and privates, were daily coming in; it was said they deserted by hundreds. Be that as it may, I one day saw a column of thirty march up to the Bureau des Logements. They were in a most miserable plight--all in rags--and apparently half-starved. All these deserters, as well as the rest, were forwarded without delay to Alost. The Commissaire des Logements told me that, after the departure of the French troops to Alost, there still remained more than 300 of his Majesty’s immediate followers for whom it was necessary to provide in Ghent.