General Dorsenne wrote to the princess, complaining of this condition of affairs; and in consequence she no doubt gave orders, but the general’s letter remained unanswered, and several days passed with no change of affairs.  They had had no change of napkins for a month, when the general took a fancy to give a grand supper, at which Rhenish and Hungarian wine were freely indulged in, followed by punch.  The host was highly complimented; but with these praises were mingled energetic reproaches on the doubtful whiteness of the napery, General Dorsenne excusing himself on the score of the ill-humor and sordid economy of the concierge, who was a fit exponent of the scant courtesy shown by the princess.  “That is unendurable!” cried the joyous guests in chorus.  “This hostess who so completely ignores us must be called to order.  Come, M——­, take pen and paper and write her some strong epigrams; we must teach this princess of Germany how to live.  French officers and conquerors sleeping in rumpled sheets, and using soiled napkins!  What an outrage!” M. M was only too faithful an interpreter of the unanimous sentiments of these gentlemen; and under the excitement of the fumes of these Hungarian wines wrote the Princess of Lichtenstein a letter such as during the Carnival itself one would not dare to write even to public women.  How can I express what must have been Madame Lichtenstein’s horror on reading this production,—­an incomprehensible collection of all the low expressions that army slang could furnish!  The evidence of a third person was necessary to convince her that the signature, M——­, Surgeon-major of the Imperial French Guard, was not the forgery of some miserable drunkard.  In her profound indignation the princess hastened to General Andreossy, his Majesty’s Governor of Vienna, showed him this letter, and demanded vengeance.  Whereupon the general, even more incensed than she, entered his carriage, and, proceeding to Schoenbrunn, laid the wonderful production before the Emperor.  The Emperor read it, recoiled three paces, his cheeks reddened with anger, his whole countenance was disturbed, and in a terrible tone ordered the grand marshal to summon M. M——­, while every one waited in trembling suspense.

“Did you write this disgusting letter?”—­“Sire.”—­“Reply, I order you; was it you?”—­“Yes, Sire, in a moment of forgetfulness, after a supper.”  —­“Wretch!” cried his Majesty, in such a manner as to terrify all who heard him.  “You deserve to be instantly shot!  Insult a woman so basely!  And an old woman too.  Have you no mother?  I respect and honor every old woman because she reminds me of my mother!”—­“Sire, I am guilty, I admit, but my repentance is great.  Deign to remember my services.  I have followed you through eighteen campaigns; I am the father of a family.”  These last words only increased the anger of his Majesty.  “Let him be arrested!  Tear off his decorations; he is unworthy to wear them.  Let him be tried in twenty-four hours.”  Then turning to the generals, who stood stupefied and immovable around him, he exclaimed, “Look, gentlemen! read this!  See how this blackguard addresses a princess, and at the very moment when her husband is negotiating a peace with me.”