nich has the distinction of being eulogised by M. Taine, who was
neither fair nor accurate, and there is not much glory in being
championed by a man whose book is made up of libels. Metternich may
here be dismissed as being only one of many whose highest ambition was
to destroy the man whom the French nation had made their monarch.
Their aim was accomplished, but the spirit that evolved from the wreck
of the Revolution still lives on, and may rise again to be avenged for
the great crime that was committed.

Whether the gifted and amiable son of the Emperor Napoleon was
despatched by the cruellest of all assassinations or came by his
premature death by neglect, or by natural and constitutional causes,
is a matter that may never be cleared up, though the actions of the
high commissioners in the nauseous drama cause lingering doubts to
prevail as to their innocence. It is certain that several determined
attempts were made to take the Prince's life, and large sums were
offered to desperadoes to carry out this murderous deed. Then the
Court of Vienna were in constant fear of his abduction. His
invitations to come to France were perpetual.

A lady cousin--the Countess Napoleone Camerata, daughter of Elisa
Bacciochi, a sister of the Emperor, easily obtained a passport from
the Pope's Secretary of State, and coquetted so successfully with the
Austrian Ambassador, that he gave it a double guarantee of good faith
by signing it. This impetuous and eccentric female made her way
uninterruptedly to Vienna, found her cousin on the doorstep, made a
rush for him and seized his hand, then shouted, "Who can prevent my
kissing my sovereign's hand?" She also found means to convey letters
to him. There is not much said about this Napoleonic dash, but from
the records that are available the incident set the heroes--comprising
the allied Courts (including France)--into a flutter of excitement.
The fuss created by the enterprise of the pretty little Countess gives
a lurid insight into the wave of comic derangement which must have
taken possession of men's minds.

This lady received a pension during the Third Empire, and in eighteen
years it mounted to over six million francs. She died in Brittany,
1869, and left her fortune to the Prince Imperial.

That there was a determined and well-conceived plot to carry the Duke
off is undoubted, but the counter-plots prevailed against the more
ardent Bonapartists who were thirsting for a resurrection