Another common rumour, current in 1842, was that Metternich sent a poisoned lemon by Prokesch, which had done its work, and even this highly improbable story is not without reason believed, because Metternich was known to be the most heartless cunning Judas in politics at that time.  He had betrayed the father of the Prince while he was declaring the most loyal friendship.  He admits this, nay, even boasts of it, in his memoirs, and his shameful conduct has its reward by having won for him the stigma of wishing for, and hastening on, the death of an unfortunate young man for whom ordinary manliness should have claimed compassion.  This moral assassin of father and son declared that he had “used all the means in his power to second the hand of God” by trapping Napoleon into the clutches of the combined moralists of Europe.  The Usurper was to be ruined, then peace proclaimed for evermore.  That was their pretence, though it could not have been their conviction.  If it was, they were soon disillusioned.

I made a long journey in company with a Danish statesman a few years ago, and amongst other things that we conversed about was the reign and fall of Napoleon.  This gentleman held up his hands and said to me, “Oh! what a blunder the criminal affair was.  Had the Powers beheld the mission of this man aright, what a blessing it would have been to the world!”—­and there is not much difficulty in supporting the view of this Danish gentleman.  The more one probes into the history of the period, the more vivid the blunder appears.

Metternich 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.