presented to their Majesties. The toilet of her Highness announced an
immense progress in the elegance of civilization beyond the Rhine; for,
renouncing the Gothic hoops, the princess had adopted the very latest
fashions, and, though nearly seventy years of age, wore a dress of black
lace over red satin, and her coiffure consisted of a white muslin veil,
fastened by a wreath of roses, in the style of the vestals of the opera.
She had with her a granddaughter, brilliant with the charm of youth, and
admired by the whole court, although her costume was less stylish than
that of her grandmother.

I heard her Majesty, the Empress Josephine, relate one day that she had
much difficulty in repressing a smile when, among a number of German
princesses presented to her, one was announced under the name of
Cunegonde [Cunegonde was the mistress of Candide in Voltaire's novel of
Candide.] Her Majesty added that, when she saw the princess take her
seat, she imagined she saw her lean to one side. Assuredly the Empress
had read the adventures of Candide and the daughter of the very noble
baron of Thunder-Ten-Trunck.

At Paris, in the spring of 1806, I saw almost as many members of the
Confederation as I had seen in the capitals of Bavaria and Wurtemburg.
A French name had the precedence among these names of foreign princes.
It was that of Prince Murat, who in the month of March was made Grand-
duke of Berg and Cleves. After Prince Louis of Bavaria, arrived the
hereditary prince of Baden, who came to Paris to marry a niece of the
Empress.

At the beginning this union was not happy. The Princess Stephanie (de
Beauharnais) was a very pretty woman, graceful and witty; and the Emperor
had wished to make a great lady of her, and had married her without