The duke afterwards prepared for and entered the Polytechnic, which is said to demand more hard study than any other school in the world.  He made his first campaign in Africa in 1835, and afterwards served with distinction in the early part of that one which resulted in the retreat from Constantine; but before Constantine was reached, a severe illness invalided him.  He was a liberal in politics, the sincere friend of the working-classes, and was on intimate terms with men of letters, even with Victor Hugo, in spite of his advanced opinions.  He was a patron of art and artists.  Some beautiful table-pieces that he had ordered, by Barye, are now in the gallery of Mr. W. S. Walters, of Baltimore, they not having been completed when he died.  His wife charmed every one by her good sense, grace, and goodness.  They had had four years of happy married life, and had two little sons, when, in July, 1842, the duchess went for her health to the baths of Plombieres, in the mountains of the Vosges.  Her husband escorted her thither, and then returned to Paris, on his way to attend some military manoeuvres near Boulogne.

As he was driving out to Neuilly to make his adieux to his family, the horses of his carriage were startled by an organ-grinder on the Avenue de Neuilly.  The duke, who was alone, tried apparently to jump out of the carriage.  Had he remained seated, all would have been well.  He fell on his head on the pave of the broad avenue, breaking the vertebral column.

He was carried into a small grocer’s shop by the way-side, where afterwards a little chapel was erected by his family.  Messengers were sent to the Chateau de Neuilly, and his father, mother, and sisters, without bonnets or hats, came rushing to the spot.  He lived, unconscious, for four hours.  A messenger was despatched at once to bring his wife from Plombieres.  She had just finished dressing for dinner, in full toilet, when the news reached her.  Without changing her dress, she started instantly for Paris, but when she reached it, her husband was in his coffin.

When his will was opened, it was found to contain an earnest exhortation to his son that, whether he proved “one of those tools that Heaven fits for work, but does not use,” or ascended the French throne, he “should always hold in his heart, above all things, love to France, and fidelity to the principles of the French Revolution.”

Here is the poor Queen Amelie’s account of the death of her son, written to a dear friend four days after:—­

“My Chartres,[1] my beloved son, he whose birth made all my happiness, whose infancy and growing years were all my occupation, whose youth was my pride and consolation, and who would, as I hoped, be the prop of my old age, no longer lives.  He has been taken from us in the midst of completed happiness, and of the happiest prospects of the future, whilst each day he gained in virtue, in understanding, in wisdom, following the footsteps of his noble and excellent