contributed very successfully to the formation of "United Italy" and the
suppression of the Pope's temporal power, and was naturally not exactly
persona grata to the Catholics in France. Prince and Princess Hohenlohe
had succeeded Arnim at the German embassy. Their beginnings were
difficult, as their predecessor had done nothing to make the Germans
popular in France, but their strong personality, tact, and understanding
of the very delicate position helped them enormously. They were
Catholics (the Princess born a Russian--her brother, Prince
Wittgenstein, military attache at the Russian embassy) and very big
people in their own country, so absolutely sure of themselves and their
position that it was very difficult to slight them in any way. They
would never have perceived it unless some extraordinary rudeness were
shown. The Princess was very striking-looking, tall, with a good figure,
and splendid jewels. When she was in full dress for a ball, or official
reception, she wore three necklaces, one on top of the other, and a big
handsome, high tiara, which added to her height. She was the only lady
of the diplomatic corps whom Madame Grevy ever recognised in the first
weeks of her husband's presidency. Madame Grevy was thrown suddenly not
very young into such an absolutely new milieu, that she was quite
bewildered and couldn't be expected to recognise half the women of the
diplomatic corps, but the German ambassadress impressed her and she knew
her always. The princess was not very mondaine, didn't care about
society and life in a city--preferred the country, with riding and
shooting and any sort of sport.

We had a very handsome dinner at the German embassy the winter of
1878--given to the Marshal and Madame de MacMahon. After dinner, with
coffee, a bear made its appearance in the drawing-room, a "baby bear"
they said, but I didn't think it looked very small. The princess patted
it, and talked to it just as if it were a dog, and I must say the little