Victory everywhere favoured the French arms.  Prince Hohenlohe, who commanded a corps of the Prussian army, was forced to capitulate at Prentzlau.  After this capitulation General Blucher took the command of the remains of the corps, to which he joined the troops whose absence from Prentzlau exempted them from the capitulation.  These corps, added to those which Blucher had at Auerstadt, were then almost the only ramparts of the Prussian monarchy.  Soult and Bernadotte received orders from Murat to pursue Blucher, who was using all his efforts to draw from Berlin the forces of those two generals.  Blucher marched in the direction of Lubeck.

General Murat pursued the wreck of the Prussian army which had escaped from Saxony by Magdeburg.  Blucher was driven upon Lubeck.  It was very important to the army at Berlin that this numerous corps should be destroyed, commanded as it was by a skillful and brave general, who drew from the centre of the military operations numerous troops, with which he might throw himself into Hanover, or Hesse, or even Holland, and by joining the English troops harass the rear of the Grand Army.  The Grand Duke of Berg explained to me his plans and expectations, and soon after announced their fulfilment in several letters which contained, among other things, the particulars of the taking of Lubeck.

In two of these letters Murat, who was probably deceived by his agents, or by some intriguer, informed me that General Moreau had passed through Paris on the 12th of October, and had arrived in Hamburg on the 28th of October.  The proof which Murat possessed of this circumstance was a letter of Fauche-Borel, which he had intercepted.  I recollect a curious circumstance which serves to show the necessity of mistrusting the vague intelligence furnished to persons in authority.  A fortnight before I received Murat’s first letter a person informed me that General Moreau was in Hamburg.  I gave no credit to this intelligence, yet I endeavoured to ascertain whether it had any foundation, but without effect.  Two days later I was assured that an individual had met General Moreau, that he had spoken to him, that he knew him well from having served under him—­together with various other circumstances, the truth of which there appeared no reason to doubt.  I immediately sent for the individual in question, who told me that he knew Moreau, that he had met him, that the General had inquired of him the way to the Jungfersteige (a promenade at Hamburg), that he had pointed it out to him, and then said, “Have I not the honour to speak to General Moreau?” upon which the General answered, “Yes, but say nothing about having seen me; I am here incognito.”  All this appeared to me so absurd that, pretending not to know Moreau, I asked the person to describe him to me.  He described a person bearing little resemblance to Moreau, and added that he wore a braided French coat and the national cockade in his hat.  I instantly perceived the whole was a mere scheme