r the Princess, she was as beautiful as love; but she was
heedless and giddy; in fact, she was a spoiled child. She adored her
husband, and during several years their union proved happy. I had the
honour of knowing them at the period when the Duke of Mecklenburg, with
his family, sought refuge at Altona. Before leaving that town the
Duchess of Mecklenburg, a Princess of Saxony, paid a visit to Madame de
Bourrienne and loaded her with civilities. This Princess was perfectly
amiable, and was therefore generally regretted when, two years
afterwards, death snatched her from her family. Before leaving Altona
the Duke of Mecklenburg gave some parties by way of bidding adieu to
Holstein, where he had been so kindly received; and I can never forget
the distinguished reception and many kindnesses Madame de Bourrienne and
myself received from that illustrious family.

It consisted of the hereditary Prince, so distinguished by his talents
and acquirements (he was at that time the widower of a Grand Duchess of
Russia, a sister of the Emperor Alexander), of Prince Gustavus, so
amiable and graceful, and of Princess Charlotte and her husband, the
Prince Royal of Denmark.

This happy couple were far from foreseeing that in two years they would
be separated for ever. The Princess was at this period in all the
splendour of her beauty; several fetes were given on her account on the
banks of the Elbe, at which the Prince always opened the ball with Madame
de Bourrienne. Notwithstanding her amiability the Princess Charlotte was
no favourite at the Danish Court. Intrigues were formed against her. I
know not whether any foundation existed for the calumnies spread to her
disadvantage, but the Court dames accused her of great levity of conduct,
which, true or false, obliged her husband to separate from her; and at
the commencement of 1809 he sent her to Altona, attended by a chamberlain
and a maid of honour. On her arrival she was in despair; hers was not a
silent grief, for she related her story to every one. This unfortunate
woman really attracted pity, as she shed tears for her son, three years
of age, whom she was doomed never again to behold. But her natural
levity returned; she did not always maintain the reserve suitable to her
rank, and some months afterwards was sent into Jutland, where I believe
she still lives.

The enemies of the French Government did not confine themselves to
writing and publishing invectives against it. More tha